Moving Day
Title: Moving Day
Author: Aileb42
Word Count: 666
Pairing: House/Wilson
Rating: G
This takes place several weeks after episode 6.10, sort of what I hope for in 6.11.
Disclaimer: The characters belong to David Shore and company.
Moving Day
The moving was all done. Now only the unpacking was left. There were boxes and bags everywhere, by the door, in the hallway, and in the main living room too. It had been a very long day. They woke up early in the morning, and the movers came right on time, at 7:30. But it took hours, till finally they were left alone, in the empty apartment, with only one box left. They stood in the living room, looking around at the emptiness, and at each other.
“You ready?” House asked.
Wilson shook his head.
“Just a minute” he said quietly.
He walked back to the bedroom, House’s bedroom, his and Amber’s bedroom before that. He took one last look around. It was empty. Even Amber was gone.
He rubbed his eyes, and walked out, and closed the bedroom door.
“I’m ready” Wilson said softly. Then he picked up the one last box, the one that he didn’t want the movers to touch.
Then they left, for good.
The ride to the new place was short, but it seemed to take a long time. Wilson drove, he kept his eyes on the road.
The movers were waiting for them when they got there.
They went upstairs, and opened up the door.
Houses’ things from his old apartment were already there, they were all moved in the day before. Boxes and black plastic bags were all over, and the piano was in its place, by the windows of the large room.
Then the rest of the stuff was moved in.
It took a long time. But it was done, and then the movers left with their big tips, and they were alone.
Wilson went into his bedroom, and started unpacking, shirts and underwear in the drawers, pants in the closet, a few books on the shelf. That last box was right by his bed. That would be opened last. He unpacked till it become dark, interrupted only by House, wandering around the sprawling new apartment, randomly opening a few boxes and bags, then leaving their contents scattered when he got bored.
Then House sat down at the piano, and began to play. It had been a long, long time. He played and played, forgetting he was tired, even forgetting to eat. He just kept on playing, and at first he didn’t even notice Wilson sitting down on the couch, amidst House’s clothes and books. Wilson picked up a pillow, and put it in his lap, then he put his head down, and closed his eyes. The music was floating all around him, and he secretly smiled.
But then the music stopped.
“Are you okay?” House asked.
Wilson looked up. House was sitting besides him, amidst the books and the clothes.
“Yeah” he said. “Just tired.”
“We should get some dinner” House said.
Wilson nodded, then he rubbed where the stitches had been.
“Does it still hurt?” House asked.
Wilson shook his head. “No, it doesn’t” he said, but he wouldn’t admit that it did still hurt sometimes. “You don’t have to stop playing” he added, putting his head down again.
House looked at the piano, then he turned Wilson to again. He put his hand on Wilson’s shoulder.
“Wilson?”
Wilson look up and stared at House.
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.” House said softly.
“For what?”
House looked around the large room, with the piano shining by the window, and the boxes and bags all over the place.
“For this. For everything….”
“House….” Wilson started to say, but then he stopped, surprised by House’s hands, now both resting on his back.
“House…..” he tried again, but it was no use. Wilson wrapped his own arms around House, and moved as close as he could.
They sat there like that for a while, holding each other, on the couch, in the new apartment, with the boxes and bags all around them.
Then House gently pulled away.
“I’m starving” he said.
Wilson smiled, and wiped the tears away.
“I’ll order pizza.”