Fic : Five Times Wilson is Worried Sick
Title: Five Times Wilson Is Worried Sick (and one time he isn't)
Words: 6 drabbles of 100 words each
Rating : PG
Spoilers : Up to 7.23 Moving On
Warnings : Angst all the way through
Summary : Written for camp sick_wilson Worried Sick Challenge. Summary pretty much as per title :)
Danny
It's a freezing night but still he wanders the streets. Despite the cold he isn't wearing a coat and before long the icy temperature chills him to the bone. He scours the faces of the homeless people he passes, but they are strangers. As he feels his face become numb and he starts to shiver he thinks of Danny, he will be cold too, cold, hungry and scared, living on the streets. He wants to turn for home, to return to the warmth but instead he presses on into the cold, dark Princeton night, searching for his brother.
Infarction
He's with a patient when it hits him. A teenage girl, with osteosarcoma. They're going to have to amputate her leg to save her life. He's explaining the procedure to the girl and her frightened parents when he starts to tremble, throat closing up and tears welling in his eyes. He rushes out of his office and down a stairwell. As he tries to regain control, he thinks of House, in a room on this floor, undergoing an operation to removed dead muscle from his thigh. House has forbidden amputation, he could die. His friend could die.
Tritter
He lies awake and stares at the hotel room ceiling. He sees the sequence of events over again. Entering the apartment, seeing the body on the floor. Turning House over, the stoned expression, the vomit, the pills. Realising that House had stolen the pills, as desperate as any junkie on the street. Getting up and leaving him there on the floor, leaving him there. He looks at the phone, wants to snatch it up and call House, or go racing back to the apartment to check on him. Instead he stares at the ceiling and waits for dawn to come.
Amber
Amber is lying on a hospital bed, frozen in a state that is closer to death than life. Wilson walks away from her and goes to the nearest men's room. He makes it just in time, kneeling in front of the toilet as his stomach empties itself. He retches until there is nothing left inside of him, and he's a shivering shaking empty wreck on the cold tiles. He stays a moment longer, seeking refuge from the reality outside this door, the choice he has to make. Then he stands, cleans himself up and goes to find House.
Mayfield
He holds the phone to his chest after he hangs up, telling himself he did the right thing, what he had to do to help House. House needs to be in there, he's off the Vicodin, he's coping with his new meds, he'll be fine. He doesn't need Wilson to rescue him. He closes his eyes as the familiar wave of depression crashes over him, threatening to drag him under. He makes it to his bedroom and climbs into bed fully dressed. He waits for sleep to claim him, to give him respite from his pain.
Afterwards
He's not sure why people are so concerned about him, he's fine. His broken wrist is healing, the cast is coming off soon, it will be nice to be able to use his hand again. His life is going on as normal. Cuddy is leaving the hospital, but that's fine too. He's seeing patients, he's doing his work, going home, everything is good. They don't need to be worried about him. He doesn't miss House at all, he doesn't even think about him. It's better that way. Everything is fine.
Words: 6 drabbles of 100 words each
Rating : PG
Spoilers : Up to 7.23 Moving On
Warnings : Angst all the way through
Summary : Written for camp sick_wilson Worried Sick Challenge. Summary pretty much as per title :)
Danny
It's a freezing night but still he wanders the streets. Despite the cold he isn't wearing a coat and before long the icy temperature chills him to the bone. He scours the faces of the homeless people he passes, but they are strangers. As he feels his face become numb and he starts to shiver he thinks of Danny, he will be cold too, cold, hungry and scared, living on the streets. He wants to turn for home, to return to the warmth but instead he presses on into the cold, dark Princeton night, searching for his brother.
Infarction
He's with a patient when it hits him. A teenage girl, with osteosarcoma. They're going to have to amputate her leg to save her life. He's explaining the procedure to the girl and her frightened parents when he starts to tremble, throat closing up and tears welling in his eyes. He rushes out of his office and down a stairwell. As he tries to regain control, he thinks of House, in a room on this floor, undergoing an operation to removed dead muscle from his thigh. House has forbidden amputation, he could die. His friend could die.
Tritter
He lies awake and stares at the hotel room ceiling. He sees the sequence of events over again. Entering the apartment, seeing the body on the floor. Turning House over, the stoned expression, the vomit, the pills. Realising that House had stolen the pills, as desperate as any junkie on the street. Getting up and leaving him there on the floor, leaving him there. He looks at the phone, wants to snatch it up and call House, or go racing back to the apartment to check on him. Instead he stares at the ceiling and waits for dawn to come.
Amber
Amber is lying on a hospital bed, frozen in a state that is closer to death than life. Wilson walks away from her and goes to the nearest men's room. He makes it just in time, kneeling in front of the toilet as his stomach empties itself. He retches until there is nothing left inside of him, and he's a shivering shaking empty wreck on the cold tiles. He stays a moment longer, seeking refuge from the reality outside this door, the choice he has to make. Then he stands, cleans himself up and goes to find House.
Mayfield
He holds the phone to his chest after he hangs up, telling himself he did the right thing, what he had to do to help House. House needs to be in there, he's off the Vicodin, he's coping with his new meds, he'll be fine. He doesn't need Wilson to rescue him. He closes his eyes as the familiar wave of depression crashes over him, threatening to drag him under. He makes it to his bedroom and climbs into bed fully dressed. He waits for sleep to claim him, to give him respite from his pain.
Afterwards
He's not sure why people are so concerned about him, he's fine. His broken wrist is healing, the cast is coming off soon, it will be nice to be able to use his hand again. His life is going on as normal. Cuddy is leaving the hospital, but that's fine too. He's seeing patients, he's doing his work, going home, everything is good. They don't need to be worried about him. He doesn't miss House at all, he doesn't even think about him. It's better that way. Everything is fine.