You Can't Always Get What You Want
A/N: Hi guys, here’s the sequel to “Goodbye My Savior”. The setting for this takes place one year after the prequel and is my version of the very last episode of the TV series. Of course that’s only if Wilson dies before the end which I hope he doesn’t. You don’t really need to read the first installment as this can be a stand alone. All you really need to know is that Wilson is in fact dead. I used the Jagger bit from the pilot episode as I thought it would be cool to bring it full circle to the end of the series. I hope you enjoy it but please read the disclaimers below before reading. Thanks
Pairings: House/dream!Wilson, and House/Cuddy (just mentioned-she doesn’t even speak) see disclaimer
My Disclaimer: I, in no way endorse the Huddy romantic relationship. This fic is based off of the scenario of Wilson dying before the end of the series and what TPTB would probably end up doing with Huddy because of it. So I thought if it does ever come down to a Huddy ending, I wanted to find a way where it’s actually still based on the House/Wilson love story. This will make better sense once you read it. It may seem a tad OOC but that’s because Wilson’s dead and House is dreaming; that can tend to affect one’s character. Oh, also I don’t own them but David Shore does!!! Thanks!!
Pg-13-prequel found here: lorib12.livejournal.com/13797.html#cutid1
Spoilers: Not really, unless I can tell the future
Warning: slash but also speaks of the H/W friendship
You Can’t Always Get What You Want
The bricks and mortar of his soul collapsed into a life shattering heap that fateful day exactly one year ago. For months he tried to follow after his best friend, his companion, his only true love. The relapse back to the drugs was easy. It was like finding a familiar friend to share the misery with; the constant aching of his broken heart. He could never finish the job though, could never bring himself to let the drugs allow him the peace of death. The look of despair in his friend’s eyes burned in his memory from years of disappointment; of wrong choices. That look is what kept him alive; kept him trying to find a way back to sobriety, to try and make him proud….even after death.
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“House…House, wake up.”
“Mmmm…what, m’sleepin.”
“I come to visit my best friend and all you can say is you’re sleeping? Figures.”
House sat up in a panic; not believing what his ears obviously heard. “Wilson?”
“Hello House.” House looked into the face of the man who’s death ripped his world apart. He rubbed his eyes to try and see if the vision would disappear, after all, his rational mind was telling him this wasn’t happening.
“Am I hallucinating?” Wilson gave his friend a fond smile and shook his head. “No House, you’re dreaming. There’s nothing in your system to cause you to hallucinate, you beat the drugs again and I wanted to say that I’m proud of you.”
House took in Wilson’s appearance. He had on the same suit he was wearing the day that he died, his hair as neat as ever, and his skin looked young and soft; he looked absolutely beautiful. Of course House would never admit such a thing out loud but God he was beautiful.
“How can you be proud of me if you’re just a dream? You’re not real.” Wilson took a step closer and reached his hand out to House. House took hold, but very hesitantly.
“I’m real; I just chose to use your dreams to show myself to you.” Wilson pulled House from the bed to his feet. “Feel my hand against yours, I’m real House.”
House stood in front of Wilson, just a foot apart. He was real, he seemed real. He shook his head again in disbelief. “Why are you here?”
“I’ve missed you and I wanted to tell you how much. I wanted you to know that I’ve been watching you and the choices you’ve made since I left. I’ve never been more proud of you.” Wilson glanced over to the bed. “I see you finally got Cuddy.”
“Well apparently the chicks find a grieving man very attractive.” The two friends shared a smirk before House looked sternly into Wilson’s eyes. “I wanted you.” Wilson raised his hand to House’s cheek, causing the older man’s eyes to close from the slight rush of adrenaline that shot through his body.
“I know.” House started at that answer. “You knew? But how…why…?”
“I always knew. I wanted you too; you were all I ever wanted.” House gently placed his hand over that of Wilson’s. “Why didn’t you ever say anything…why didn’t we ever get together? I never wanted anyone else.” House could feel the emotions welling in his gut; anger, disappointment, the feeling of loss all over again. Wilson’s tone was gentle and understanding.
“House, we needed the friendship more. We needed to constantly save one another and we needed the strength of our friendship to do that.” House dropped his hand and turned his back to Wilson, he couldn’t help the anger that he felt. “Why the hell did you come back? I’m trying to move on and now you’re here telling me that you wanted the same thing as me all along? It’s not fair Wilson, why do this now?”
Wilson moved behind House and placed a soft hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Because you’ll always wonder; I didn’t want your life with Cuddy to be like that. All I’ve ever wanted was for you to find happiness. House, I love you and I’ve come to help you let go.” House spun around to look at Wilson’s face; to find the deception that he was sure was there.
“No Wilson, I can’t let you go. I don’t want to, I want you. I want to go with you!”
Wilson closed the distance between himself and House, pulling the older man into his chest. That was the moment that House had waited for, for over a decade. The irony of it happening after Wilson’s death was not lost on him. They always sucked at timing. The sparks that shot from the base of House’s spine to the top of his head when their lips finally touched was beyond any feeling he’d ever experienced in his life. Behind his closed eyes he could see a young Wilson in New Orleans thanking him for saving his pride, fast forward to a compassionate Wilson after the infarction, helping him when no one else would. Time travels to the hurt in the younger man’s face when Tritter turned their lives upside down, his pain and sadness when Amber died along with the overwhelming relief when Wilson came back to him. A snapshot of Wilson’s concern when House walked into Mayfield, and the warmth he felt when Wilson woke up from his surgery to find House diligently by his side. In between the milestones were the still frames of every beer they shared along with a laugh. Every story and piece of gossip; every beautiful smile exchanged between the two lovers who never had sex. The kiss was soft and sweet; not at all what he’d expected when he thought of kissing Wilson, but at the same time it was so much more.
Breathlessly, Wilson backed up a step. Knowing the visions that House just experienced, he smiled fondly and with a bit of sadness. “We’ve experienced a life time of memories together and they’ll always be a part of who you are. It’s time for you to move forward and see what is beyond us.” House knew Wilson was right, and that there was nothing he could do to change the fact that the man standing before him was in fact dead, but that didn’t make it any easier.
“Wilson, Cuddy did help me through you…dying and I’m grateful for it but I love you….I want you.”
Wilson rubbed House’s cheek one more time before backing away from him slowly. Before his image faded into the night, House heard him say…
“I love you too House, but as the prophet Jagger once said….”You can’t always get what you want.”
House couldn’t help but smirk at his own words being thrown at him by his best friend. He knew Wilson was right. Wilson was gone and House wasn’t, he needed to find away to live and to remember the life he had with the younger man and the life that he would need to live going forward. He threw one last longing look toward the empty space that Wilson occupied just moments before, and then looked down at the bed to the person that loved him and was still very much alive. House finished Wilson’s sentence as he climbed back into bed….
“And if you try sometime, you find you get what you need.”
END
A/N: Ok, I’ll be the first to admit that it’s not usually a style that I write and that it’s a little strange but I hope you liked it and would really love to hear what you thought. Thanks for reading!!!!