New House Fic: Conspiracy
Title: Conspiracy
Author: Megan M.
Rating: PG-13 (Nothing really explicit in it but there is a hint at the end. Rate it as you will.)
Summary: House and Wilson head over to Cuddy’s for a party but is there a conspiracy in progress?
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing
Author’s Note(s): Written for Camp Sick!Wilson’s Child’s Play challenge.
2: Takes place in my Accidents Verse. You aren’t really missing much by not reading it but if you find yourself confused, please do read. :)
~~~~~~~~~
Golden rays of June sun shone down on House and Wilson as they made their way to Cuddy and Lucas’, making the heat of summer that much hotter. The summer breeze swayed through the trees, tickling the leaves as it went.
Cuddy was having a party just because and had all but begged them two men to come, playing on them being her best friends, almost family, to sway them.
Instead of making their way to the front door, the men swerved to their left and made their way to the back yard which was lush with green glass, flowers, a lilac bush, a large deck and plenty of room to run around.
Normally that would be all you’d see but today there were a few couples and about ten kids running around as well. The kids were currently playing tag and House and Wilson had to weave in and out of the group of youngsters while heading to the deck.
“Wilson!” Cuddy greeted warmly, walking up to the oncologist and throwing her arms around him in a gentle hug. Lucas joined, offering a nod to House who merely returned the nod. “How are you?” she asked aiming the question at both men.
“Good,” both men replied at once. “How are you?” Wilson asked in return, “Do you need any help?”
“Yes actually,” Cuddy asked not wholly surprised that he’d offered, “Could you grab the condiments from the fridge and the sides from the table and bring them out?”
“Sure,” Wilson replied with a smile. He turned to House and muttered, “Be nice.”
“No promises,” House said with a smirk before plopping himself down on the lawn couch.
~~~~~~~~~
The party ate their food with the kids only periodically stopping to snack on their hot dogs or burgers before returning to their play.
After things had been put back in the house, the group of adults settled on the deck to watch the kids play and allow the food to settle in their stomachs. Though none of Cuddy’s other friends knew House nor Wilson they allowed both men to sit comfortably relaxed on the lawn couch, cuddling slightly with House’s left hand idly rubbing Wilson’s right leg.
Somehow Cuddy had managed to find a table big enough to stretch to each corner of seating, allowing all members of the group to relax their feet on it.
The screeching of kids stopped when they gathered together, whispering and planning in secrecy. Finally the group parted and Rachel came onto the deck and straight for Wilson.
“Uncle Wilson, will you play with us?” she asked. Cuddy had tried to get Rachel to call Wilson “Uncle James’ but having heard her mother call the oncologist by Wilson so much, the child had refused to do it.
Her cheeks were red from running around and her eyes, though alight from the exercise, were full of unabashed adoration. The crush she’d developed on Wilson when she was two hadn’t diminished in the past three years. House couldn’t tell if it was a crush or just sheer love and favoritism towards her uncle.
Wilson wanted nothing more than to say no but he knew before he opened his mouth that he couldn’t. If ever there was someone who spoiled Rachel more than her mother, it was him. He loved the child and returned her favoritism with ease. “Sure, what are we playing?” he asked, loosening himself from House.
“Well, we were playing tag but we decided that since you’re old, you probably don’t want to be running around so we switched to Red Rover.” Rachel said energetically. She’d just barely finished before she’d taken off running towards where the other stood.
Wilson swallowed his indignant reply and threw a glare towards his partner when he heard the loud laugh echoing from House’s mouth. With a smile on his face, the oncologist joined one of the ranks of kids.
There was a mixture of ages in the small group. Rachel was the youngest but one of the bossiest. The oldest was thirteen, a brother of one of the younger girls and a very pleasant young man; more than willing to entertain and play with the younger kids.
All the kids took their turns calling and being called, squealing and giggling with delight as their “chain” was broken through. By the end of the game there was only Wilson and the thirteen year old boy left and it was their turn to call.
“Red rover, red rover,” the boy called out with a glint in his eyes, “everyone come over!”
Wilson gasped as the horde of kids came running towards him. This wasn’t what he had expected the boy to say and was very unprepared for nine kids, each weighing in at no less than 40 pounds, to come tearing towards him.
They bulldozed into him and the other boy, tackling them to the ground with the ease of football players.
For a minute Wilson didn’t register anything but the need to draw oxygen into his lungs. It was made difficult by the five kids still lying on top of him, laughing their heads off. When the laughter had died down, the boy, Isaiah, began pulling everyone off Wilson.
“Are you okay?” he asked when he noticed that Wilson hadn’t been doing anything but laying perfectly still.
“I’m not sure,” Wilson answered honestly, “help me up,” he half requested, half commanded. His side cried out when he stretched out his arm telling him that he will have a massive bruise there later.
Isaiah nodded then silently helped him up. Wilson groaned as he stood up and he almost groaned again when he noticed that every adult’s attention was on him. The last thing he wanted was to be the center of attention, especially if he was hurt.
He gave an assuring smile to the boy before he pulled away and made his painstaking way to the deck where he would have to do a lot more placating before people would leave him alone.
“Are you okay?” Cuddy asked as she came up to him, concern melting the steel grey in her eyes.
He gave her his Boy Wonder Oncologist smile, a smile that he used every time he wanted to reassure his patients. “I’m fine,” he answered, placing a hand on her arm, “I just need to sit down.”
“Let’s get you inside then old man!” House chimed in when he noticed other people beginning to gather around his already uncomfortable friend. Knowing House merely by reputation, the others began backing off immediately. Some went to play with their kids and some went back to relaxing on the deck, all keeping their concerned eyes on Wilson.
“House!” Cuddy and Wilson grumbled at him for different reasons.
“Now, now. You heard the child. She did say that you wouldn’t be up to much running because you’re so old and I highly doubt being tackled did you any better.” House chided his lover playfully while he guided the younger doctor into Cuddy’s spare bedroom.
“House, why are we in the bedroom?” Wilson asked suspiciously.
“What better place to have my way with you?” House replied, pushing Wilson onto the bed.
Wilson gave a small, pained grunt, “What makes you think I won’t have my way with you?”
“You couldn’t take me.”
“Oh yeah?” Wilson challenged with raised eyebrows.
House pushed right on the spot where the bruise covered Wilson’s ribs causing the man to hiss and groan, “Yeah,” he answered. “Now, you wanna tell me what else hurts?”
Realizing he should have seen this coming, Wilson let out a soft sigh, “House, I’m fine, just bruised.”
“Speaking of,” House prompted before he pulled up Wilson’s neatly tucked in polo shirt. He winced when he saw the deep purple bruising covering his lover’s side. Gently his fingers palpitating the bruising like he played a piano.
He pressed on each rib to make sure nothing wasn’t broken and winced when he felt one give way slightly. “What do they feed their kids?” he grumbled annoyed.
Wilson winced at House’s touch, “It’s not what they feed them but what I landed on.” House looked up curiously, “There was a rock in the ground where I fell.” Wilson explained with a dismissive wave.
House stared at Wilson for awhile then said, “Okay, so what else?”
“House-“
“Wilson we could do this the easy way, with you telling me what hurts, or the hard way where I drug you, take to you to the hospital and perform every single test known to man. Which do you prefer?”
Briefly Wilson wondered if House would actually drug him when his brain reminded him that he’d done it not only once but twice. Pain seared through his side alerting him that he was breathing too face so he slowed it down, taking care not to breathe too deeply.
“So?” House asked impatiently.
“Unsurprisingly,” Wilson sighed, “my ankle and wrist.”
House understood what Wilson meant and sat down next to his friend. Tenderly, he took Wilson’s left hand in his own, gingerly massaging and flexing the wrist.
Wilson gasped in surprise as the pain that was just an annoying ache changed into a throbbing burn. He groaned deep in his throat when the pain persisted as House continued his examination but kept his hand faithfully, trustingly in House’s skilled fingers.
When he finished examining, House brought the injured hand up to his mouth, giving the bruised and slightly swollen flesh feathery kisses of apology. “It’s sprained but not badly,” he announced knowing it wasn’t really a comfort to the oncologist.
With the osteoarthritis in Wilson’s wrist (and ankle, and knee) even a small sprain hurt like the devil. He probably wouldn’t be able to use that hand for weeks without pain.
“Let me see your ankle,” House stated, almost in a requesting tone.
Stiffly, Wilson shifted on the bed so he could raise his right leg onto House’s knee. Pain shot through his knee at the strain the movement put on it but it was short lived.
House slipped the leather loafer off Wilson’s foot and peeled the sock down, ending the fold at just below Wilson’s heel. Thankful to see the same amount of swelling and bruising on the affected joint, House merely studied the ankle for a moment before tracing the tye-dye bruising pattern lightly with his fingers.
Cuddy came into the room to check on how Wilson was doing, knowing he was hurting worse than he admitted. A small smile of happiness crossed her face when she saw House examining Wilson’s swollen ankle with such tenderness and care that she could almost see the love House had for the oncologist in his eyes.
She was truly grateful that House and Wilson had decided to take a chance and try a relationship; it was good for the both of them.
“Hey Cuddy,” Wilson greeted being the first to notice her. He tried to withdraw his leg from House’s grasp but the diagnostician held on firmly.
“How are you doing?” She asked, pretending that she hadn’t seen the tender moment.
Wilson opened his mouth to answer but House answered for him. “He’s sprained his wrist and ankle again and possibly cracked a couple of ribs.”
Cuddy’s eyes turned a little sad at the news but she wasn’t wholly surprised. If she had to guess, neither was House given his tone.
“What are you feeding those kids?” House practically snapped at her, still holding possessively onto Wilson’s leg.
She wanted to snap that it wasn’t the kids’ fault that Wilson had the joints of a 70 year old which made them easier to hurt but she knew it wasn’t Wilson’s fault either and a part of her understood that House was just frustrated because the oncologist had been hurt.
“House,” Wilson jumped to her rescue, “it was just an accident and like you said. I’m not really that hurt.”
“I said the sprain wasn’t that bad, not that you weren’t that badly hurt.” House argued correctively.
“House, a sprain isn’t that bad of an injury, especially not a grade I.” Wilson reasoned with practiced tolerance.
House didn’t argue with Wilson, knowing the oncologist was right and he was really overreacting to the injuries but unwilling to admit it. Instead he turned to Cuddy, “do you have a couple of ace bandages?”
“Yeah,” Cuddy answered turning no her heel to leave. She returned quickly with a couple of bandages and a couple small ice packs, “I keep them on hand just in case,” she said, finishing her earlier statement.
Swiftly, House wrapped the wrist and ankle then placed the ice packs on the injured joints while he debated whether or not he should wrap Wilson’s side. Normally bruised ribs didn’t require a wrapping and since it is no longer a common practice to do so, House was leaning towards the “no” side. But the part of him that just wants to ease Wilson’s pain is leaning towards the “yes” side since wrapping does help with the pain.
In the end he decided against it and switched the ice pack from Wilson’s ankle to his side so that he could put the oncologist’s sock and shoe back on.
Wilson bit his lip to keep from crying out while House pushed hard his now very tight shoe back on. He really should just keep the shoe off but he wasn’t about to go back out to the party with only one shoe on. He might as well hold up a sign saying, “I’m injured!” in bright neon green lettering.
Unfortunately for him, Cuddy noticed his pain. “House,” she said drawing House’s attention from dressing Wilson to herself, “if the shoe doesn’t fit back on, I don’t think you should be forcing it on. But what do I know, I’m not a real doctor?” she chided gently to cover up for pointing out that he had forgotten years of medical training.
House looked up at Wilson’s face and upon seeing the pain in his eyes put on a show of dramatically rolling his eyes and sighing, “Fine. I guess I’ll allow your friends to see Wilson barefooted even though I’m usually the only one who gets to see that.”
Cuddy returned his eye roll but there was laughter in her eyes. “Why should you have all the fun? We want to see his bare feet too,” she mock whined.
House gave her a friendly sneer but did as she suggested and easily slipped the shoe off.
“You know, I don’t think my sock needs to come off,” Wilson said, stopping House from doing just that. With a loving smile he added, “That way you’re still the only one who gets to see my bare feet.”
House’s chest rumbled with the chuckle he refused to let escape fully then he softly patted the bottom of Wilson’s socked foot. He helped ease Wilson onto his feet, well foot, and held onto the discarded ice packs.
“Do you need help getting back out there?” Cuddy asked ignoring House’s rolled eyes at her concern.
Wilson tested the ankle and upon finding that though it hurt to put his weight on it, it was feasible, he responded, “I think I’m okay, thanks.”
“Okay,” Cuddy said after giving a short nod, “well, shall we?”
She linked her arm with Wilson’s allowing him to look the gentleman when she was really giving him a crutch to lean on. House trailed behind them trying to snap out of “protector-mode” and back into “House-mode” before they reached the rest.
He managed to succeed only to find that most of the guests had gone and had taken their kids with them.
“Where’d everyone go?” Wilson asked as he limped his way over to a chair.
“They had other parties to attend,” Lucas chimed in from the yard, giving a friendly wave before he proceeded to chase after Rachel. The girl squealed like a banshee and giggled like a teenager.
“No they didn’t,” Cuddy remarked while she started gathering plates and empty cups. “They had other things to do though. Mainly other family functions to attend.”
Since Wilson couldn’t think of anything to say, he stayed quiet, giving House a grateful look when the older man nudged a spare chair in his direction. He lifted his leg onto the chair, relieved for the strain it took off his leg and more particularly his knee.
“Well as fun as this has been, I think it’s time for us to go.” House announced getting up from his spot. “Wilson and have some important business tonight if you know what I mean.”
“House,” Wilson manly whined, “could you be any cruder?” When House raised an eyebrow and his eyes lit up, Wilson just raised his hand silencing any answer before it could come out. “You know what, don’t answer that. Let’s just go.”
“I thought you’d see it my way,” House taunted triumphantly.
“No, I just don’t want you saying something young ears shouldn’t say. It might be best not talk until we leave.” Wilson retorted climbing stiffly to his feet. “I will however need my shoe to get to the car.”
“No you don’t, just use your sock.” House surmised without blinking.
“Then I’ll have grass stains and God only knows what on it!” Wilson exclaimed prissily.
“Well, I could always give you one of my bunny slippers,” Cuddy interjected knowing that Wilson wasn’t going to give in without a fight.
Wilson spluttered in indignant disgust for a few seconds before he brought his left hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, an action that wasn’t comfortable. “Fine,” he conceded heavily, “I’ll just try to get the stains out.”
“If you’re going to be that much of a girl why don’t you just take Cuddy’s bunny slipper offer?” House laughed indulgently.
“Let’s just go, please?” Wilson retorted, already going tired of standing.
“As you wish,” House replied sounding dangerously close like Cary Elwes in The Princess Bride.
While Cuddy thought it was sweet, Wilson knew exactly what House was saying. “You’re such a girl!” and that only served to frustrate him more.
“Thanks for the party Cuddy, it was fun.” Wilson said with manners that had been ingrained in him from birth.
“Yeah, up until the pain part!” House called from the yard where he was already making his way to the car, Wilson’s shoe in hand.
“Feel better Wilson,” Cuddy returned warmly.
“I’ll be fine,” he assured before he carefully made his way down the few steps of the deck.
Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel saw him coming down and ran towards him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and pushing her head against his bruised side. “Come see me soon, k?”
Wilson looked down at the child, doing his best to keep the pain from his face and therefore his smile, promised, “I will.”
~~~~~~~
Later that night after a careful but hot session of sex, the two men lay together in their bed, staring at the ceiling and panting heavily.
“You know,” House all of the sudden said, “I think we should stop going over to Cuddy’s.”
Wilson looked over at his partner, confusion written on his face, “Why?”
“Every time we go over there, you get hurt. Frankly I’m worried that they have it out for you.” House replied with a smile on his face.
Pain seared through his side as he laughed heartily, “Good night House.”
House snuggled close to Wilson, releasing a contented sigh saying, “Good night Wilson.”
Author: Megan M.
Rating: PG-13 (Nothing really explicit in it but there is a hint at the end. Rate it as you will.)
Summary: House and Wilson head over to Cuddy’s for a party but is there a conspiracy in progress?
Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing
Author’s Note(s): Written for Camp Sick!Wilson’s Child’s Play challenge.
2: Takes place in my Accidents Verse. You aren’t really missing much by not reading it but if you find yourself confused, please do read. :)
~~~~~~~~~
Golden rays of June sun shone down on House and Wilson as they made their way to Cuddy and Lucas’, making the heat of summer that much hotter. The summer breeze swayed through the trees, tickling the leaves as it went.
Cuddy was having a party just because and had all but begged them two men to come, playing on them being her best friends, almost family, to sway them.
Instead of making their way to the front door, the men swerved to their left and made their way to the back yard which was lush with green glass, flowers, a lilac bush, a large deck and plenty of room to run around.
Normally that would be all you’d see but today there were a few couples and about ten kids running around as well. The kids were currently playing tag and House and Wilson had to weave in and out of the group of youngsters while heading to the deck.
“Wilson!” Cuddy greeted warmly, walking up to the oncologist and throwing her arms around him in a gentle hug. Lucas joined, offering a nod to House who merely returned the nod. “How are you?” she asked aiming the question at both men.
“Good,” both men replied at once. “How are you?” Wilson asked in return, “Do you need any help?”
“Yes actually,” Cuddy asked not wholly surprised that he’d offered, “Could you grab the condiments from the fridge and the sides from the table and bring them out?”
“Sure,” Wilson replied with a smile. He turned to House and muttered, “Be nice.”
“No promises,” House said with a smirk before plopping himself down on the lawn couch.
~~~~~~~~~
The party ate their food with the kids only periodically stopping to snack on their hot dogs or burgers before returning to their play.
After things had been put back in the house, the group of adults settled on the deck to watch the kids play and allow the food to settle in their stomachs. Though none of Cuddy’s other friends knew House nor Wilson they allowed both men to sit comfortably relaxed on the lawn couch, cuddling slightly with House’s left hand idly rubbing Wilson’s right leg.
Somehow Cuddy had managed to find a table big enough to stretch to each corner of seating, allowing all members of the group to relax their feet on it.
The screeching of kids stopped when they gathered together, whispering and planning in secrecy. Finally the group parted and Rachel came onto the deck and straight for Wilson.
“Uncle Wilson, will you play with us?” she asked. Cuddy had tried to get Rachel to call Wilson “Uncle James’ but having heard her mother call the oncologist by Wilson so much, the child had refused to do it.
Her cheeks were red from running around and her eyes, though alight from the exercise, were full of unabashed adoration. The crush she’d developed on Wilson when she was two hadn’t diminished in the past three years. House couldn’t tell if it was a crush or just sheer love and favoritism towards her uncle.
Wilson wanted nothing more than to say no but he knew before he opened his mouth that he couldn’t. If ever there was someone who spoiled Rachel more than her mother, it was him. He loved the child and returned her favoritism with ease. “Sure, what are we playing?” he asked, loosening himself from House.
“Well, we were playing tag but we decided that since you’re old, you probably don’t want to be running around so we switched to Red Rover.” Rachel said energetically. She’d just barely finished before she’d taken off running towards where the other stood.
Wilson swallowed his indignant reply and threw a glare towards his partner when he heard the loud laugh echoing from House’s mouth. With a smile on his face, the oncologist joined one of the ranks of kids.
There was a mixture of ages in the small group. Rachel was the youngest but one of the bossiest. The oldest was thirteen, a brother of one of the younger girls and a very pleasant young man; more than willing to entertain and play with the younger kids.
All the kids took their turns calling and being called, squealing and giggling with delight as their “chain” was broken through. By the end of the game there was only Wilson and the thirteen year old boy left and it was their turn to call.
“Red rover, red rover,” the boy called out with a glint in his eyes, “everyone come over!”
Wilson gasped as the horde of kids came running towards him. This wasn’t what he had expected the boy to say and was very unprepared for nine kids, each weighing in at no less than 40 pounds, to come tearing towards him.
They bulldozed into him and the other boy, tackling them to the ground with the ease of football players.
For a minute Wilson didn’t register anything but the need to draw oxygen into his lungs. It was made difficult by the five kids still lying on top of him, laughing their heads off. When the laughter had died down, the boy, Isaiah, began pulling everyone off Wilson.
“Are you okay?” he asked when he noticed that Wilson hadn’t been doing anything but laying perfectly still.
“I’m not sure,” Wilson answered honestly, “help me up,” he half requested, half commanded. His side cried out when he stretched out his arm telling him that he will have a massive bruise there later.
Isaiah nodded then silently helped him up. Wilson groaned as he stood up and he almost groaned again when he noticed that every adult’s attention was on him. The last thing he wanted was to be the center of attention, especially if he was hurt.
He gave an assuring smile to the boy before he pulled away and made his painstaking way to the deck where he would have to do a lot more placating before people would leave him alone.
“Are you okay?” Cuddy asked as she came up to him, concern melting the steel grey in her eyes.
He gave her his Boy Wonder Oncologist smile, a smile that he used every time he wanted to reassure his patients. “I’m fine,” he answered, placing a hand on her arm, “I just need to sit down.”
“Let’s get you inside then old man!” House chimed in when he noticed other people beginning to gather around his already uncomfortable friend. Knowing House merely by reputation, the others began backing off immediately. Some went to play with their kids and some went back to relaxing on the deck, all keeping their concerned eyes on Wilson.
“House!” Cuddy and Wilson grumbled at him for different reasons.
“Now, now. You heard the child. She did say that you wouldn’t be up to much running because you’re so old and I highly doubt being tackled did you any better.” House chided his lover playfully while he guided the younger doctor into Cuddy’s spare bedroom.
“House, why are we in the bedroom?” Wilson asked suspiciously.
“What better place to have my way with you?” House replied, pushing Wilson onto the bed.
Wilson gave a small, pained grunt, “What makes you think I won’t have my way with you?”
“You couldn’t take me.”
“Oh yeah?” Wilson challenged with raised eyebrows.
House pushed right on the spot where the bruise covered Wilson’s ribs causing the man to hiss and groan, “Yeah,” he answered. “Now, you wanna tell me what else hurts?”
Realizing he should have seen this coming, Wilson let out a soft sigh, “House, I’m fine, just bruised.”
“Speaking of,” House prompted before he pulled up Wilson’s neatly tucked in polo shirt. He winced when he saw the deep purple bruising covering his lover’s side. Gently his fingers palpitating the bruising like he played a piano.
He pressed on each rib to make sure nothing wasn’t broken and winced when he felt one give way slightly. “What do they feed their kids?” he grumbled annoyed.
Wilson winced at House’s touch, “It’s not what they feed them but what I landed on.” House looked up curiously, “There was a rock in the ground where I fell.” Wilson explained with a dismissive wave.
House stared at Wilson for awhile then said, “Okay, so what else?”
“House-“
“Wilson we could do this the easy way, with you telling me what hurts, or the hard way where I drug you, take to you to the hospital and perform every single test known to man. Which do you prefer?”
Briefly Wilson wondered if House would actually drug him when his brain reminded him that he’d done it not only once but twice. Pain seared through his side alerting him that he was breathing too face so he slowed it down, taking care not to breathe too deeply.
“So?” House asked impatiently.
“Unsurprisingly,” Wilson sighed, “my ankle and wrist.”
House understood what Wilson meant and sat down next to his friend. Tenderly, he took Wilson’s left hand in his own, gingerly massaging and flexing the wrist.
Wilson gasped in surprise as the pain that was just an annoying ache changed into a throbbing burn. He groaned deep in his throat when the pain persisted as House continued his examination but kept his hand faithfully, trustingly in House’s skilled fingers.
When he finished examining, House brought the injured hand up to his mouth, giving the bruised and slightly swollen flesh feathery kisses of apology. “It’s sprained but not badly,” he announced knowing it wasn’t really a comfort to the oncologist.
With the osteoarthritis in Wilson’s wrist (and ankle, and knee) even a small sprain hurt like the devil. He probably wouldn’t be able to use that hand for weeks without pain.
“Let me see your ankle,” House stated, almost in a requesting tone.
Stiffly, Wilson shifted on the bed so he could raise his right leg onto House’s knee. Pain shot through his knee at the strain the movement put on it but it was short lived.
House slipped the leather loafer off Wilson’s foot and peeled the sock down, ending the fold at just below Wilson’s heel. Thankful to see the same amount of swelling and bruising on the affected joint, House merely studied the ankle for a moment before tracing the tye-dye bruising pattern lightly with his fingers.
Cuddy came into the room to check on how Wilson was doing, knowing he was hurting worse than he admitted. A small smile of happiness crossed her face when she saw House examining Wilson’s swollen ankle with such tenderness and care that she could almost see the love House had for the oncologist in his eyes.
She was truly grateful that House and Wilson had decided to take a chance and try a relationship; it was good for the both of them.
“Hey Cuddy,” Wilson greeted being the first to notice her. He tried to withdraw his leg from House’s grasp but the diagnostician held on firmly.
“How are you doing?” She asked, pretending that she hadn’t seen the tender moment.
Wilson opened his mouth to answer but House answered for him. “He’s sprained his wrist and ankle again and possibly cracked a couple of ribs.”
Cuddy’s eyes turned a little sad at the news but she wasn’t wholly surprised. If she had to guess, neither was House given his tone.
“What are you feeding those kids?” House practically snapped at her, still holding possessively onto Wilson’s leg.
She wanted to snap that it wasn’t the kids’ fault that Wilson had the joints of a 70 year old which made them easier to hurt but she knew it wasn’t Wilson’s fault either and a part of her understood that House was just frustrated because the oncologist had been hurt.
“House,” Wilson jumped to her rescue, “it was just an accident and like you said. I’m not really that hurt.”
“I said the sprain wasn’t that bad, not that you weren’t that badly hurt.” House argued correctively.
“House, a sprain isn’t that bad of an injury, especially not a grade I.” Wilson reasoned with practiced tolerance.
House didn’t argue with Wilson, knowing the oncologist was right and he was really overreacting to the injuries but unwilling to admit it. Instead he turned to Cuddy, “do you have a couple of ace bandages?”
“Yeah,” Cuddy answered turning no her heel to leave. She returned quickly with a couple of bandages and a couple small ice packs, “I keep them on hand just in case,” she said, finishing her earlier statement.
Swiftly, House wrapped the wrist and ankle then placed the ice packs on the injured joints while he debated whether or not he should wrap Wilson’s side. Normally bruised ribs didn’t require a wrapping and since it is no longer a common practice to do so, House was leaning towards the “no” side. But the part of him that just wants to ease Wilson’s pain is leaning towards the “yes” side since wrapping does help with the pain.
In the end he decided against it and switched the ice pack from Wilson’s ankle to his side so that he could put the oncologist’s sock and shoe back on.
Wilson bit his lip to keep from crying out while House pushed hard his now very tight shoe back on. He really should just keep the shoe off but he wasn’t about to go back out to the party with only one shoe on. He might as well hold up a sign saying, “I’m injured!” in bright neon green lettering.
Unfortunately for him, Cuddy noticed his pain. “House,” she said drawing House’s attention from dressing Wilson to herself, “if the shoe doesn’t fit back on, I don’t think you should be forcing it on. But what do I know, I’m not a real doctor?” she chided gently to cover up for pointing out that he had forgotten years of medical training.
House looked up at Wilson’s face and upon seeing the pain in his eyes put on a show of dramatically rolling his eyes and sighing, “Fine. I guess I’ll allow your friends to see Wilson barefooted even though I’m usually the only one who gets to see that.”
Cuddy returned his eye roll but there was laughter in her eyes. “Why should you have all the fun? We want to see his bare feet too,” she mock whined.
House gave her a friendly sneer but did as she suggested and easily slipped the shoe off.
“You know, I don’t think my sock needs to come off,” Wilson said, stopping House from doing just that. With a loving smile he added, “That way you’re still the only one who gets to see my bare feet.”
House’s chest rumbled with the chuckle he refused to let escape fully then he softly patted the bottom of Wilson’s socked foot. He helped ease Wilson onto his feet, well foot, and held onto the discarded ice packs.
“Do you need help getting back out there?” Cuddy asked ignoring House’s rolled eyes at her concern.
Wilson tested the ankle and upon finding that though it hurt to put his weight on it, it was feasible, he responded, “I think I’m okay, thanks.”
“Okay,” Cuddy said after giving a short nod, “well, shall we?”
She linked her arm with Wilson’s allowing him to look the gentleman when she was really giving him a crutch to lean on. House trailed behind them trying to snap out of “protector-mode” and back into “House-mode” before they reached the rest.
He managed to succeed only to find that most of the guests had gone and had taken their kids with them.
“Where’d everyone go?” Wilson asked as he limped his way over to a chair.
“They had other parties to attend,” Lucas chimed in from the yard, giving a friendly wave before he proceeded to chase after Rachel. The girl squealed like a banshee and giggled like a teenager.
“No they didn’t,” Cuddy remarked while she started gathering plates and empty cups. “They had other things to do though. Mainly other family functions to attend.”
Since Wilson couldn’t think of anything to say, he stayed quiet, giving House a grateful look when the older man nudged a spare chair in his direction. He lifted his leg onto the chair, relieved for the strain it took off his leg and more particularly his knee.
“Well as fun as this has been, I think it’s time for us to go.” House announced getting up from his spot. “Wilson and have some important business tonight if you know what I mean.”
“House,” Wilson manly whined, “could you be any cruder?” When House raised an eyebrow and his eyes lit up, Wilson just raised his hand silencing any answer before it could come out. “You know what, don’t answer that. Let’s just go.”
“I thought you’d see it my way,” House taunted triumphantly.
“No, I just don’t want you saying something young ears shouldn’t say. It might be best not talk until we leave.” Wilson retorted climbing stiffly to his feet. “I will however need my shoe to get to the car.”
“No you don’t, just use your sock.” House surmised without blinking.
“Then I’ll have grass stains and God only knows what on it!” Wilson exclaimed prissily.
“Well, I could always give you one of my bunny slippers,” Cuddy interjected knowing that Wilson wasn’t going to give in without a fight.
Wilson spluttered in indignant disgust for a few seconds before he brought his left hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, an action that wasn’t comfortable. “Fine,” he conceded heavily, “I’ll just try to get the stains out.”
“If you’re going to be that much of a girl why don’t you just take Cuddy’s bunny slipper offer?” House laughed indulgently.
“Let’s just go, please?” Wilson retorted, already going tired of standing.
“As you wish,” House replied sounding dangerously close like Cary Elwes in The Princess Bride.
While Cuddy thought it was sweet, Wilson knew exactly what House was saying. “You’re such a girl!” and that only served to frustrate him more.
“Thanks for the party Cuddy, it was fun.” Wilson said with manners that had been ingrained in him from birth.
“Yeah, up until the pain part!” House called from the yard where he was already making his way to the car, Wilson’s shoe in hand.
“Feel better Wilson,” Cuddy returned warmly.
“I’ll be fine,” he assured before he carefully made his way down the few steps of the deck.
Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel saw him coming down and ran towards him, wrapping her arms tightly around his waist and pushing her head against his bruised side. “Come see me soon, k?”
Wilson looked down at the child, doing his best to keep the pain from his face and therefore his smile, promised, “I will.”
~~~~~~~
Later that night after a careful but hot session of sex, the two men lay together in their bed, staring at the ceiling and panting heavily.
“You know,” House all of the sudden said, “I think we should stop going over to Cuddy’s.”
Wilson looked over at his partner, confusion written on his face, “Why?”
“Every time we go over there, you get hurt. Frankly I’m worried that they have it out for you.” House replied with a smile on his face.
Pain seared through his side as he laughed heartily, “Good night House.”
House snuggled close to Wilson, releasing a contented sigh saying, “Good night Wilson.”