Unknown
Title: Unknown
Author: Un_derscores (aka Sarah)
Pairing: House/Wilson
Rating: R for themes and language. possible character death
Spoilers: None.
Summary: House and Wilson both decided to try to fix things. But before they can, something bad happens.
Disclaimer: I wish I was making money from this.
AN: I really don't have a lot to say about it, except that there's going to be at least two more parts.
Beta: principessahope
x-posted in: housefic house_heavenhouse_wilson
house_slash house_everyone
Unsaid
Unsure
Undone
Uncaring
That was it. He just couldn’t take it anymore. He just couldn't live with out Wilson any more. He was going to go to his office and beg for him to come back, plead with him, do anything he wanted. He just couldn't be without him.
He went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror only to be shocked by what he saw; he had lost weight from his existence of beer and vicodin, his eyes were sunken in and red, and his hair was very dirty looking. He decided he had enough time to take a quick shower, so he did. He got out, shaved so that he was back to his five o'clock shadow, and brushed his teeth. He looked like a new man.
He grabbed a clean shirt and a clean pair of jeans and was off. He was still sobering up from that morning, but he figured he could take the bike, so he did.
He went as fast as he could with out getting pulled over. He seemed to hit almost every single stop light he came to, making the 10 minute ride seem like years. Finally when he was about five minutes away from the hospital, he finally came to his first green light. He swerved around the car in front of him.
And that’s when it happened.
_____________
Wilson had finally packed up his briefcase and was going to head home. He mentally smacked himself, not home, the hotel room.
As the days had gone by, and his rage had died down, he really was starting to miss House. Maybe he should go and apologize. He just hoped House would take him back.
He got in his car and started the drive towards House's apartment. When he was about five minutes away the traffic got really slow. He rolled down his window and stuck his head out to try and see what was going on, but all he could see was a swarm of cop cars and an ambulance. He only could see one car, and it was in the middle of the street. He figured that maybe the tow truck that came could only take one of them.
As the traffic progressed slowly, he got closer and closer to the accident. He still couldn't see anything, but the feeling in the pit of his stomach told him something was wrong.
That’s when he saw it; a bright orange motorcycle lying on the ground in pieces. He got out of the car and ran toward the sight, trying to get a better look.
When the cop that was standing there told him that he needed to leave, he asked what had happened. The officer told him that a motorcyclist had been driving recklessly had been hit by a car, gotten thrown from the bike, had been injured very badly and was in critical condition. When Wilson asked for his name, the answer made his blood run cold. Greg House
He couldn’t breath. He screamed at the officer that he was wrong, that it couldn’t be him, that it was all a mistake. Greg House was perfectly fine; he knew he was, he had to be. One of the medics on the scene came over to Wilson and tried to calm him down, but it was to no use. He kept screaming that they were wrong.
But then he saw the bike out of the corner of his eye, and saw the license plate, and knew it was true. He started to cry uncontrollably; House was probably dying. The more Wilson thought about it, the more like shit he felt. House was dying, and from the looks of where he was going he was coming to see him. House was dying, and the last words he ever uttered to him were of hate.
House was dying, and he might never know that he was sorry.
____________
Yeah. Don't hate me. I didn't think this would happen. Blame them! *points at muses*
I already have the next part written up, but depending on this weekends event you might not see it until Saturday night or Sunday. Sry. =]]
Please feed the writer. If you took the time to read this, please leave me a cmnt.
Check out all my other fics in the right hand column of my profile, and feel free to friend me.
Author: Un_derscores (aka Sarah)
Pairing: House/Wilson
Rating: R for themes and language. possible character death
Spoilers: None.
Summary: House and Wilson both decided to try to fix things. But before they can, something bad happens.
Disclaimer: I wish I was making money from this.
AN: I really don't have a lot to say about it, except that there's going to be at least two more parts.
Beta: principessahope
x-posted in: housefic house_heavenhouse_wilson
house_slash house_everyone
Unsaid
Unsure
Undone
Uncaring
That was it. He just couldn’t take it anymore. He just couldn't live with out Wilson any more. He was going to go to his office and beg for him to come back, plead with him, do anything he wanted. He just couldn't be without him.
He went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror only to be shocked by what he saw; he had lost weight from his existence of beer and vicodin, his eyes were sunken in and red, and his hair was very dirty looking. He decided he had enough time to take a quick shower, so he did. He got out, shaved so that he was back to his five o'clock shadow, and brushed his teeth. He looked like a new man.
He grabbed a clean shirt and a clean pair of jeans and was off. He was still sobering up from that morning, but he figured he could take the bike, so he did.
He went as fast as he could with out getting pulled over. He seemed to hit almost every single stop light he came to, making the 10 minute ride seem like years. Finally when he was about five minutes away from the hospital, he finally came to his first green light. He swerved around the car in front of him.
And that’s when it happened.
_____________
Wilson had finally packed up his briefcase and was going to head home. He mentally smacked himself, not home, the hotel room.
As the days had gone by, and his rage had died down, he really was starting to miss House. Maybe he should go and apologize. He just hoped House would take him back.
He got in his car and started the drive towards House's apartment. When he was about five minutes away the traffic got really slow. He rolled down his window and stuck his head out to try and see what was going on, but all he could see was a swarm of cop cars and an ambulance. He only could see one car, and it was in the middle of the street. He figured that maybe the tow truck that came could only take one of them.
As the traffic progressed slowly, he got closer and closer to the accident. He still couldn't see anything, but the feeling in the pit of his stomach told him something was wrong.
That’s when he saw it; a bright orange motorcycle lying on the ground in pieces. He got out of the car and ran toward the sight, trying to get a better look.
When the cop that was standing there told him that he needed to leave, he asked what had happened. The officer told him that a motorcyclist had been driving recklessly had been hit by a car, gotten thrown from the bike, had been injured very badly and was in critical condition. When Wilson asked for his name, the answer made his blood run cold. Greg House
He couldn’t breath. He screamed at the officer that he was wrong, that it couldn’t be him, that it was all a mistake. Greg House was perfectly fine; he knew he was, he had to be. One of the medics on the scene came over to Wilson and tried to calm him down, but it was to no use. He kept screaming that they were wrong.
But then he saw the bike out of the corner of his eye, and saw the license plate, and knew it was true. He started to cry uncontrollably; House was probably dying. The more Wilson thought about it, the more like shit he felt. House was dying, and from the looks of where he was going he was coming to see him. House was dying, and the last words he ever uttered to him were of hate.
House was dying, and he might never know that he was sorry.
____________
Yeah. Don't hate me. I didn't think this would happen. Blame them! *points at muses*
I already have the next part written up, but depending on this weekends event you might not see it until Saturday night or Sunday. Sry. =]]
Please feed the writer. If you took the time to read this, please leave me a cmnt.
Check out all my other fics in the right hand column of my profile, and feel free to friend me.