New House Fic: Fantasies

Jun 08, 2011 12:44

Title: Fantasies

Author: Megan

Rating: PG-13

Summary: Will Maria begin to feel like she’s at home or will she run away? Can House and Wilson get through to her? A continuation of my Dreams story.

Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing.

Author’s Note: If you haven’t read Dreams - please do so first!

This story takes place RIGHT after Chapter 7 of Dreams leaves off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 1:

House helped Wilson into the bedroom and onto the bed. He placed the spare pillow they’d been using since Wilson’s surgery under the leg then went and grabbed a bag of ice; even though Wilson had his sweat pants on, House could feel that the joint was swollen and in need of some ice.

While he was in the kitchen, House decided to check, quietly, on Maria. Though she’d given Wilson, and himself, the impression that she was staying, House wasn’t too sure. He worried that she would still run away if someone didn’t keep a close eye on her. Since Wilson had enough to deal with, that someone would be House.

He heard the music in her room, laughing slightly when Frank Sinatra’s “Come Fly with Me” crooned its way through the door which was slightly ajar. House allowed himself a smile. Maria knew he’d, or at least one of them, wanted to check on her and the open door was her way of saying “go ahead”.

Thankfully for House, Wilson was neurotic about home maintenance and had kept the doors well oiled so that when he nudged Maria’s door open a little more so he could see, no noise came to announce his presence.

Maria sat on her bed, a pillow on her lap and what looked like a journal on top. The journal, an Italian, leather bound book that she’d gotten from Barnes and Nobles Bookstore, lay sideways, the black leather ties sprawled carelessly down the sides of the pillow like black tears.

A black, gel tipped pen was clutched tightly in her left hand while it scribbled furiously atop the paper. Tears spilled idly down her cheeks but not a sound was uttered from the girl herself; she’d learned long ago how to cry in silence and House suspected that she’d done so many times during her stay with them.

After assuring himself that she was staying, for at least the night, House continued on his way back to Wilson in the bedroom. He entered to find Wilson lying on the bed still as the dead. The crows’ feet around Wilson’s eyes and the way his lips were thin as tooth picks told House all he wanted to know - Wilson was in pain.

Briefly he wondered if he should have grabbed a glass of water and some Aleve but the freshly emptied glass told him that Wilson had already taken some naproxen and it hadn’t kicked in yet.

“Brought you some ice,” House announced hoping to take Wilson’s mind off his pain.

“How is she?” Wilson asked knowing full well what had taken House so long to come back. Though he liked to act like he doesn’t have a heart, the truth was that it had been given away to himself and Maria.

“She’ll be fine,” House answered without actually answering. He placed the ice pack gently on top Wilson’s knee then settled himself in bed beside his friend.

“But she isn’t now,” Wilson countered catching House’s meaning with ease.

“Don’t worry about it. I’ve set a trap worthy of MacGyver. If she sets one foot near the front door, we’ll know.” House mumbled with a small smirk. If there was one show from the 80’s that he liked, it was MacGyver. The man could do anything with whatever he had on hand; all he needed was his brain - something House admired greatly.

Wilson laughed at the MacGyver joke. He knew House hadn’t actually set up the trap but it was still funny trying to imagine House use a mousetrap-like set up to announce when someone opens the door.

House cuddled closer, fully enjoying the feel of Wilson next to him and the way that Wilson’s body seemed to be molded to fit his. Everything felt right when he had Wilson in his arms. If he wanted to, he felt like he could fly.

“How’s your knee?” House asked. It always felt easier to show that he cared when he was holding on to his world.

Wilson allowed himself to be snuggled, loving how it felt to have House love him this much. His knee groaned slightly when the older man had pulled him in more and wrapped his leg around Wilson’s but he ignored it. It was worth the pain to be this close to House. “It’s fine.”

House nodded knowing that that was Wilson speak for it hurts. Gently as he could, House curled himself tighter around Wilson, lowering his head onto the younger man’s chest.

Wilson’s soft chuckle rumbled in House’s ear but his arm wrapped around House, pulling him closer, falling asleep before House had finished moving.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“There are other treatments we can try,” Wilson suggests softly. He’s currently sitting in his office, talking to one of his longest patients - Dora Echholm.

Dora gives him a pitying look, “I think it’s time to let me go.”

The words send shards of pain into Wilson’s heart but he nods his head, acknowledging that he understands. He hates it when patients lose hope but he knows that they grow tired of fighting.

This particular patient has been a patient of his for fifteen years. She is practically a grandmother to him. He’s been there with her through her treatments and remissions, through her children’s graduations and her grandchildren’s births. He was at the funeral when her husband died and he was at the wedding when her daughter married.

Wrinkled hands enclosed over his and gave a weak squeeze, “It’s okay,” Dora assures.

Mustering up strength that he doesn’t feel he has, Wilson looks up at her. “Is there anything I can do?”

“Yes,” Dora says with a sly smile playing in her eyes, “you can tell me how you’re doing. You seem to be favoring your leg more so than the last time I saw you. What happened? How is it going with that young lady you adopted? How is your partner doing?”

At first Wilson was taken aback by all of her questions but then he understood. She didn’t plan on seeing him again. She was going to go home to die with her family. He placed a hand on the back of his neck, massaging the tension away while he decided which question to answer first.

“House is doing good. His leg still hurts him but there’s nothing any of us can do to change it. Maria is doing okay; still adjusting to things but she’s getting there.” He hoped that those answers would suffice, he really didn’t want to go into details.

“I see,” she said nodding her head very slowly. She pointed a crooked finger at his leg, which happened to be throbbing at the moment, “and your leg?”

“I was in an accident. My knee was dislocated and I had to have surgery to fix the damage that had been done. I haven’t been cleared to walk on it long so it’s still a little sore.” He summarized, not lying but not telling the entire truth either.

“You poor thing!” Dora cried with so much grandmotherly sympathy and pity in her voice that it made Wilson want to hide. “You’re alright now though?” They had been sitting across from each other in matching chairs and she reached out, giving his hurting knee a squeeze of comfort.

Unable to stop the wince that briefly covered his face, Wilson offered an assuring smile, “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Dora nodded withdrawing her hand from Wilson’s leg. She knew he was lying and that he was hurting but she also knew that he was a private man and wouldn’t admit it so she let it go. “Well, I had better get going.”

“I’ll walk you out,” Wilson offered, slowly easing himself up. His knee twinged at the movement but he ignored it.

“That’s okay,” Dora denied not wanting him to be on his leg. She pointed towards the balcony door where House was seen crossing the dividing wall, “I think someone wants to speak to you anyways.”

House entered silently, noticing that Wilson had a long time patient with him. He frowned slightly at how sad his friend looked. “Dora,” he greeted almost nicely.

“Dr. House, how are you?” She asked cordially. Dora couldn’t understand what James saw in the diagnostician but she knew that he made her doctor and friend happy and that’s all that mattered to her.

“Peachy, you?” House answered pulling up a chair on the couch.

“Just about to go.” Dora answered sensing that House really didn’t want her there. She walked over to James, “I’m glad that we got a chance to catch up. Take care of yourself.”

Wilson didn’t know what to say so he pulled her in for a hug, doing his best not to crush her as he did so. He pulled away and with tears in his eyes he bid her, “Good bye.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What was that about?” House asked carelessly once the patient had closed the door behind her.

Wilson felt himself grow defensive and straightened up, stemming the flow of tears with his hands. “Nothing,” he answered almost angrily. He knew that he wasn’t all that upset with House but it just so happened that that was who was in the room with him so that’s who he aimed at.

However his anger faded at a single, soft spoken word, “James,”. He turned around to find House regarding him with concern. He cleared his throat, hoping to make his voice stronger as he said, “She’s going home to die.”

Though this news didn’t effect House at all, he knew that it did Wilson and that alone made his heart ache for his friend. He hadn’t ever tried to form a close connection with the elderly lady but he knew that Wilson had thought of her as family. “Come here,” he bid gently, patting the spot beside him.

Wilson made his way over, limping slightly, and sat down next to his partner. Tears were once again threatening to fall and that was the last thing he wanted to happen so he tried hard to keep them from coming.

His resolved died away when House pulled him in for a tender embrace, running a hand through Wilson’s hair.

“I’m so sorry,” House whispered, meaning it fully, “I know that you loved her.” He waited patiently for his friend to cry himself out of tears, holding him all the while.

When he heard Wilson’s breathing even out and stopped feeling tears drip onto his shirt, House pulled away, running his thumb over Wilson’s cheekbone as he did. “Last night’s conversation with Maria gave me an idea,” he said deciding that a change of topic was in order. Denial is always a person’s friend.

“Okay,” Wilson replied, his voice gruff from crying.

“I think we could all use a vacation. We could road trip.”

“Wouldn’t that be hard on your leg?” Wilson asked concerned, not bothering to say what his first thought had been.

“Not if we rented an RV.” House answered.

“Where would we go?”

“I was thinking about that too.” House assured while leaning back into the couch. “I remembered that Maria is from the Midwest, wasn’t it Idaho or something like that?”

“Iowa but close,” Wilson responded getting up to organize his desk.

“Right, well we could take her there and let her give us a tour. What do you think?”

“I think that other than the chance to get off work, what’s in it for you?” Wilson asked suspiciously.

This was the question that House had hoped Wilson wouldn’t ask because it required him to be open and caring. “I think that it will honestly help her. It might help her lower her guard and get closer to us and vice versa.”

A foxish smile played upon Wilson’s lips, “You’re worried.” He walked over to where his lab coat hung limply on the coat rack.

House pretended to be insulted, “Bite your tongue! I am not worried, I just want to get away from the clinic.”

“Well, discuss it with her and if she says yes, set it up. I have patient round to do.” And with that Wilson walked out the office, leaving an annoyed House behind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

House sat in his office grumpily looking at hotels in Des Moines, Iowa. Compared to some of the bigger cities he’d stayed in, things were limited but in reality they had a nice variety of options. He opted for a Marriott off of Jordan Creek Pkway, selecting a two bedroom suite. He was trying to decided how long to make this vacation for when his office phone rang.

Annoyed at being interrupted, he checked the number and upon seeing that it was Cuddy he promptly ignored it. Seconds later his cell phone chirped loudly and he knew that Cuddy was calling him again.

“House’s house of pain, how may I spank you?” He answered maturely.

“House,” Cuddy said evenly, “I need you to come down to the clinic.”

“Uh-uh, no way. I did my clinic hours.” House refused tempted to hang up.

“Well then it’s a good thing that I don’t want you here to do clinic hours.” Cuddy snapped, earning House’s undivided attention. Something must be wrong. Milliseconds later, he got his answer though he hadn’t wanted it. “It’s Wilson.”

“What’s he done? Gotten beat up by a mad husband?” House snarked hoping to hide the concern and worry he actually felt.

Cuddy let out a growl worthy of the mama bear she could become when one of her friends was hurt, “No but he was attacked by his psychotic brother,” she snarked back though her tone was murder.

Instantly, House was serious. “I’ll be there in five seconds.”

He hung up the phone and limped as fast as his damaged thigh could take him.

Chapter 2


dreams verse, hurt!wilson, house md

Previous post Next post
Up