Sooner than expected (rp for incorrigibledoc)

[mcgill_pride]

Please, don't tell Lisa I told you...I don't know if she wants you to know. She and House are sort of... I don't know, but I know she's kind of in love with him...Wilson wasn't very aware of himself as he walked up the stairs and fled back into his room. His towel dropped to the floor once he was in the bathroom and he found himself leaning against

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[incorrigibledoc]

The bar was the Doctor's enemy.

It was, he thought, very irresponsible of their captors to allow frustrated and despondent prisoners an unlimited supply of something as damaging as alcohol. When faced with (seemingly) insurmountable odds, a bottle could be viewed as a safe haven, and damn the consequences. He'd seen it happen one too many times, and even, most disturbingly, to his fifth self. Consequently, upon changing out of his wet clothes and heading back for his forgotten book, the Doctor stuck his head into the bar, sizing up his foe, scanning for a head of tousled blond hair.

The sight of Wilson sitting morosely, alone, when but half an hour earlier he had been hesitantly cheered, worried the Doctor. With that thought in mind, he quickly crossed the room and laid a gentle hand on the man's shoulder. "You likely already know this," he said mock-chidingly, "but one shouldn't consume alcohol directly after physical exercise. You could become dehydrated." The smile fell slightly. "Are you all right, Wilson?"

[mcgill_pride]

The bartender shot Wilson an annoyed look and waited for a real answer. Wilson's shoulders sagged and he lifted his head from his hand, raising both hands in the air helplessly. The bartender glared again and Wilson rolled his eyes, opening his mouth to say 'Firewhiskey', but turned to the side upon feeling a gentle hand on his shoulder

[incorrigibledoc]

The Doctor's eyes shadowed briefly before he smiled again, bringing cheer to the surface. The other man's despair was tangible to even the most casual observer, and if that was the case, then the bar was the very last place for him.

The Doctor tightened his hand reassuringly on Wilson's shoulder. "Getting lost can be quite interesting, especially with a friend," he said, with a smile and a subtle stress on the last word. "But it's a little difficult to do when you're staying in one place. Come for a walk with me."

He took Wilson's elbow and turned him on the bar stool, exerting a bit of pressure on a nerve under the elbow that slid the other man from the stool to the floor. Now the choice was up to Wilson; get back on the bar stool and stay, or come with the Doctor.

[mcgill_pride]

Wilson's eyes stayed trained on the Doctor's face, noting the word 'friend' and nodding. He hesitated, however, when the Doctor suggested leaving.

God, he wanted a drink. He wanted to drink until the thoughts weren't sharp in his head, water them down and blur them. But-

He looked back up at the Doctor again. Blue eyes, keen ones, and a knowing look in them. Wilson shut his mouth and nodded a second time, letting the Doctor help him from the stool.

It was possible that no one else could've kept him from ordering that glass of scotch. Wilson didn't have time to be struck by the thought that this man, who called himself his friend, affected him strangely. Wilson didn't project, didn't pretend he was alright. He also listened. And as they walked out of the bar, Wilson breathed a little easier. He knew it was a good thing his plans to drink had been thwarted, somewhere in his mind. He was grateful that it hadn't fallen to him, also. Knowing very well he would've failed