Fic: The Whitney Street Mystery 2/2
Title: The Whitney Street Mystery
Beta: euclase
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Crossover, Angst/Action/Adventure
Characters: House, Wilson, Ten, Jack
Disclaimer: Neither House nor Doctor Who belong to me.
Read Part 1
When House and Wilson rounded the corner in the hospital's corridor and came into view of the isolation room, the Doctor was already waiting for them. He had been pacing up and down the glass wall like a caged animal, but as he saw them, he turned around immediately and activated the intercom.
"Did you find it?"
Wilson let House step forward and do the talking. He himself put his hands on his hips and watched the man in the isolation room. If he really was an alien, then Wilson was sure that there had to be something that gave it away. Aliens that looked completely human - that was too easy, as far as Wilson was concerned.
House leaned forward on his cane. "We found it. You can't begin to imagine how many 'bigger on the inside' jokes I'm trying not to make right now."
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Believe me, I've heard them all." His expression changed back to intense worry immediately, though, and he began to bounce on his toes. "Would you let me out now, please?"
"Not yet," House said. "I like being in a position of power when I'm trying to make you give up information." He picked up his cane and began to spin it. "It's an interrogation technique. I've learned it in a movie."
The Doctor stared at House; then he turned to Wilson. "Is he always like this?" he asked.
Wilson pursed his lips and nodded. "Pretty much, yeah. He's actually being nice at the moment."
"Charming." The Doctor turned back to House, and with a sudden movement, he planted his hand against the glass wall and moved in closer. House didn't flinch, but Wilson could see his shoulder muscles tense. "Listen," the Doctor said in a low, dangerous sounding tone. "There's an entity on the loose in this town, a very dangerous one. It has to be stopped. The only one who knows about it is me, and I'm also the only one who can stop it. The longer you keep me locked in here, the higher the risk that it'll start hurting people. I can't let that happen. So let me out of here now, or I swear, I will make you."
For a brief moment, nobody said anything, House and the Doctor staring at each other with only a couple of inches and a glass wall dividing them. Wilson watched, holding his breath.
"How will you make me?" House asked, his tone far too calm to be anything but a challenge.
The Doctor didn't move, but his eyes became even more intense, and Wilson felt himself beginning to grow rather nervous. "Let. Me. Out. Now."
"House, maybe you should let him out," Wilson said. "You'll have to do that eventually, anyway. Remember what you did to the box."
The words had a much stronger effect than Wilson had expected. The Doctor broke eye-contact with House and spun around, directing his frantic gaze at Wilson. "He did something to the TARDIS?" He sounded positively panicked. "Please tell me nothing happened to the TARDIS."
Wilson exchanged a look with House before he faced the Doctor again, feeling slightly sheepish. "Ah, well. It was - kind of an accident."
"What did you do?"
"House accidentally pushed some of the buttons," Wilson said and shot House a brief glare to communicate him to keep his mouth shut for once. "And then the box, well, it sort of started fading in and out."
"Oh, no." The Doctor put a hand over his eyes, and Wilson couldn't help feeling a little sorry for him. "So many things about this are so very much not good."
The Doctor dropped his hand, and his livid eyes went to House and then flickered over to Wilson. "You two are the most disastrous humans I've ever met," he said vehemently and then hesitated. "Well, not quite. There were more disastrous ones. But you two definitely make the top ten. Okay, twenty. But-"
"Alright, we get it," House said and walked over to the door of the isolation room. "What's it going to be now, do you want out or not?"
"Ah, yes, out. Very good." The fierceness disappeared completely from the Doctor's features, and once again his eyes lit up with busy excitement. He hurried over to the door, all but bouncing on his toes impatiently until House had unlocked the door.
"I need my things," he said as he brushed past Wilson. "And then I need to get to the TARDIS as quickly as possible." He jogged a few steps down the corridor; then he stopped and turned to face them with a slightly confused expression on his face. "Which way out of here?"
-###-
They went to retrieve the Doctor's clothing from House's office, and the Doctor made House give back the wallet, explaining curtly that it wasn't a wallet at all but something called a psychic paper. Wilson didn't quite grasp the concept of how it worked, but it seemed like it showed random identification certificates to anyone except the really smart people, an explanation that made House raise a very smug eyebrow. After that, they briefly discussed the quickest way to get to Baker Street and decided to take Wilson's car.
Wilson refused to allow anyone else but himself behind the wheel, and House claimed the passenger seat as usual, which meant that ten minutes later, the Doctor was trying to arrange his long legs in the foot space of the Volvo's backseat, repeatedly poking Wilson in the back, and talking a mile a minute, relating the most improbable tale Wilson had heard since he'd worked night shifts in the ER.
"I'm actually not from this universe," he began, and Wilson felt another poke as the Doctor shifted. "I'm from a parallel universe, which is actually quite similar to this one, only that my Earth has more aliens. I wonder what that says about my interference in their timeline."
"A parallel universe," House repeated. "Like in movies?"
"Actually yes, it's pretty much like that." Wilson stopped at a red light, and there was another stab in his back. "Only that the getting back and forth isn't as easy. Or it shouldn't be."
"So how come you're here, then?"
"Yes, well." The Doctor produced a cynic little snort. "As usual, this started out with Torchwood meddling with things they have no business meddling with. Really, those people. At the rate they're going, they're going to cause some serious damage sooner rather than later."
"Torchwood?"
"Never you mind," the Doctor said. "I think they don't even exist for you. What you need to know is this: a friend of mine got himself into a bit of a fix by taking on the Ethmmoruraelry, transdimensional beings from the dark times. They were trying to set up a network between the third dimensions of the fifth level using power derived from the implosion of two universes of the first level. Torchwood couldn't let that happen."
"Obviously." The dry undertone in House's voice was unmistakable.
The Doctor exhaled audibly. "They were trying to build a bridge between universes by destabilizing yours and the one I'm from," he explained. "In my world, Torchwood got wind of the plan and attempted to stop it, but twenty-first century humans are no match for the Ethmmoruraelry. Even if they have Jack."
"Who's that?"
As the Doctor answered, Wilson noticed his voice getting a hint tenser, and he checked the rearview mirror to see the strange man staring out of the car window into the night as if he were looking for someone. "That's my friend I was telling you about. The second he attracted their attention, the Ethmmoruraelry took him captive and then used him for their own purposes." The Doctor looked around, and Wilson started as his gaze was suddenly met by two dark, intense eyes. "The Ethmmoruraelry are powerful beings, and the human mind is no match for their mental abilities. They can't take on a corporeal form, so they possess lower life forms if they need any sort of errand carried out. By taking over Jack, they gained access to the most sophisticated technology on my Earth. They made him use the Rift manipulator-"
"They made him use the what?"
Wilson was impressed at how House seemed to keep up with all of this. He himself had by now resigned himself to the fact that whatever it was that was going on, it went way over his head, and all he could do was tag along and play chauffeur.
House seemed to be on top of things, though, and it reminded Wilson once again of the reason why House always got away with everything: he seemed to never lose track of things. So if he did something that seemed completely insane, it wasn't him you questioned, but you ended up wondering what it was that you were overlooking.
It was quite a neat trick, actually, now that Wilson thought about it.
"The Rift manipulator," the Doctor was explaining. "In my universe, there's a Rift through time and space running right through the city of Cardiff. Unfortunately, a couple of years ago, Torchwood found a Rift manipulator, and ever since they started tinkering with it, the Rift has been acting up, spitting out aliens in the middle of Central Square and whatnot. The Ethmmoruraelry used Jack to manipulate the Rift to open a small crack to this, your universe. That's how he got here, and I followed him with the TARDIS."
"But why?" Wilson asked, thinking that this was the one thing he really wanted to know. "What do your Ethmoh-whatever people get out of your friend being in this universe?"
"Somewhere here in this town is a gap," the Doctor said. "Not a Rift, it's not that big, mainly because there's no Torchwood in this universe meddling with things they don't have the first clue about. It's just a small gap, a place where the layer between the universe and the Void is very thin. The mission Jack has been given by the Ethmmoruraelry is to find that gap and tear it wide open. The matter in this universe and the one in my universe will attract each other like magnets, and the force of the collision will destroy both universes and kill every life form living in either of them."
Silence followed the Doctor's words. Wilson tried to wrap his mind around this explanation, but his mind refused to cooperate. The idea of an event that would destroy not only everything Wilson had ever known, but also the rest of the Earth and billions and trillions of other planets plus a whole other universe - that thought was a little too H. P. Lovecraft to take it in.
"I guess we'd better find that Jack person, then," House said, and his calm, almost flippant tone completely fit the situation. They were on their way to save two universes from ultimate destruction. There was no other way one could talk about this than in a calm tone that audibly expressed the small, ironic smile playing about one's lips. Wilson noticed that House had the end-of-the-universe voice down pat.
"That won't be a problem once we get to the TARDIS," the Doctor said, as appropriately unmoved by the gravity of their situation as House. "She can find him."
They didn't talk until Wilson pulled up to the curb of Baker Street and killed the engine. As he got out of the car, he looked over at the blue box standing twenty feet away and still fading in and out of reality.
The sight had been mind-boggling before, and it was still rather strange, but what Wilson found even more astonishing was that there was no crowd. Not even a small one. No one was standing in front of the TARDIS, gaping or shooting clips with their cell phone to upload them to YouTube first chance they got. Nobody was pointing or yelling or calling the police. The few people that did pass it by threw one or two anxious looks over their shoulder and quickly walked away.
"That's some box you got there," House said.
The Doctor grinned happily. "I'd say so." He held out a hand. "Keys, please?"
Entering the box was easier this time, but only a little. Wilson figured that if he closed his eyes before he stepped over the threshold, maybe his heart wouldn't do this small, worrying skip on entering, and so he almost ran into House who had stopped right behind the door and was looking around the impossibly big room.
"Sorry," Wilson muttered and manoeuvred around House, who wasn't paying him any attention. Wilson walked over to the railing that ran along the ramp that led from the door to the central console and leaned against it, glad to have something solid under his fingers. The gridded floor with the shadowy maze of machinery beneath made him feel a little like he imagined walking on water would feel.
In the company of the Doctor, House was a lot less bold in here. He was still bolder than Wilson, though. He limped up the ramp to where the Doctor was bent over the console and leaned against the circular railing behind him.
"So, what now?"
The Doctor didn't answer right away. Wilson could hear him muttering something under his breath, and as he watched, he thought he could see him running a caressing hand over the console. It almost seemed as if the Doctor was stroking his ship, but Wilson dismissed the idea. After all, how was he supposed to know how those controls worked? Maybe when you were in a phone box that was actually a bigger-on-the-inside space ship that wasn't invisible but couldn't be seen anyway, you stroked buttons instead of pushing them.
Finally, the Doctor looked up, and directed his gaze at House. He didn't look very happy. "What did you do?" he asked. "How did you manage to turn on the Integrity Destabilizer without triggering the Vortex Avidity Program? That shouldn't even be possible."
House raised an eyebrow. "'Impossible' is not a concept I'm familiar with."
The Doctor looked as if he were going to reply, but then he only shook his head and turned back to the controls.
While the Doctor and House had been talking, Wilson had slowly edged along the railing towards the centre of the room, and was now standing close enough to be able to see what the Doctor was doing. Not that it made any sense to him whatsoever. The Doctor's fingers were moving with an amazing speed; he was flicking switches and pushing buttons seemingly at random. He had pulled the monitor closer and was frowning at it with a concentrated expression on his face. The images flashing across the screen didn't tell Wilson anything, and he exchanged a look with House, who apparently didn't understand any of this either, but for some reason managed to look a lot less lost than Wilson felt.
With a small jab of envy Wilson wondered how he always seemed to manage that.
"There!" the Doctor suddenly exclaimed, straightening up and startling Wilson out of his mesmerized daze.
"What?" House had pushed himself off the railing and was limping over to look at the monitor.
"I found Jack," the Doctor said. "Well, not me, technically the TARDIS found him. He's right..." He frowned at his monitor again and squinted, and Wilson remembered the glasses they'd found among the Doctor's stuff.
"Where's Whitney Street?" the Doctor asked.
"Just down the street and around the corner."
The Doctor looked up at House, and Wilson saw him pale. "It's not that small side street down the block, is it?"
"It is, actually, yes."
The Doctor quickly straightened up and grabbed his coat. "Come on, we have to hurry!"
Wilson just managed to get out of the way as the Doctor brushed by him towards the door. He exchanged a surprised look with House, then hurriedly followed the Doctor. House's cane made a hollow thumping sound on the metallic floor as House followed as quickly as he could.
"Doctor!" Wilson stood beside the door of the TARDIS, which had stopped fading in and out and looked as solid as ever, waiting for House to catch up, his eyes on the Doctor who was already halfway down the block. He didn't stop when Wilson called out.
"Come on, Wilson," House said as he passed him by. Wilson closed the door of the TARDIS behind him and took a few quick steps that brought him up next to House.
"What's the hurry?" he asked. "What's in Whitney Street?"
House threw him a quick side-glance. "The mysterious Jack, I assume."
"But-" Wilson took a deep breath, not exactly knowing what he was protesting against, and then shook his head. "This is crazy," he said. "You've finally managed to drive me insane."
House didn't react, didn't even make some sort of sarcastic remark, and Wilson would have commented on that if they hadn't arrived at the corner of Baker and Whitney right that moment.
They rounded the corner and both stopped in their tracks.
In Wilson's book, meeting a man with no lungs and two hearts who owned a space ship that looked like a telephone box was quite crazy, but still somehow conceivable. After all, the concept of alien life forms with alien technology wasn't new to him, even if it was a bit of a shock to have it confirmed in real life.
What he was seeing now, however, lay so far beyond his realm of understanding that at first, he was sure he was hallucinating.
Whitney Street, usually a small back alley of the seedy, creepy kind running down the narrow gap between two building blocks, was completely transformed. The first twenty feet were the dirty pavement Wilson was used to seeing here, but then, the change started. There was a wall of white light reaching up into the sky, going up all the way to the second floor windows of the buildings lining the street. It wasn't transparent, Wilson was sure of that, because somehow, he knew that the street he saw behind that wall of light wasn't the Whitney Street he knew. Or at least it wasn't only that street. It seemed like there were thousands of Whitney Streets behind that barrier, each overlayed by another, creating the impression of a blurred, three-dimensional photograph.
This part of the image wasn't the most disturbing aspect, though. There was something between this street and the streets behind the light, something that took up no space and wasn't visible, except that Wilson could see it anyway. He had never experienced anything like that, except maybe when earlier this evening, he had first laid eyes on the Doctor's phone box. The feeling he'd had then had been unsettling, but this was ten times stronger. There was something behind that light that wasn't there, and it was wrong.
Wilson's throat dried up, and he took an involuntary step backwards. He probably would have turned around and made a run for it if House hadn't chosen that moment to reach out and grab his arm.
"Wilson, look!"
Wilson followed the direction House was pointing in with his eyes, and realized that he'd only been taking in half the picture. Before the wall of light stood a man. He was quite tall, with dark hair and broad shoulders, and he was wearing a long coat that in the light of the wall behind him seemed black. Wilson couldn't make out his features, but he could see quite clearly what he was holding in his hand: it was a gun, an old-fashioned revolver with a thin barrel, and he was pointing it at the Doctor, who was standing between them and the man in the coat.
"Jack," Wilson heard the Doctor say. "Jack, put the gun down."
Nobody moved. Wilson's eyes flitted back and forth between the Doctor and Jack.
"Jack, you know you don't want to do this. They are making you. Don't let them control you, Jack, you're stronger than them."
Wilson thought he saw the gun in Jack's hand tremble, but Jack didn't lower it, and when the Doctor took a small step towards him, he visibly tightened his grip on the weapon. Wilson barely registered House's fingers digging deeper into his arm.
"Stay where you are." Jack's voice was strained, but his words had definitely been a warning. The Doctor apparently thought so, too, because he stopped and slowly raised his hands in a gesture of peace.
"Okay," he said. "I'm not going near you. But you have to fight this, Jack. You mustn't do what they want. I know you're strong enough, Jack."
"Go away," Jack said. "Go away, or I'll shoot."
"No, Jack," the Doctor said, imploringly, and Wilson had to admire his courage, because he saw him take yet another step towards Jack. "You won't shoot. You don't want to, don't let them make you."
Wilson could only see Jack's silhouette, but he could hear his harsh breathing, and could see the gun's aim waver as Jack's arm started to tremble with strain.
The Doctor had seen it, too, and he edged closer yet towards Jack, now no more than three or four feet away. If Jack shot him now, there wouldn't be much hope of survival for him.
"It's alright, Jack," the Doctor was saying. "You don't need to do this. Don't let them make you. I can help you, just put the gun down and I'll -"
There were maybe two feet left between the two men, and Wilson was already starting to dare hope that maybe this wouldn't end in a bloodbath when suddenly, Jack made a strangled, desperate sound and turned the gun away from the Doctor - and towards himself.
"Jack, no!"
The report seemed extremely loud in the confined space between the two building blocks. Wilson flinched and ducked his head and felt House's grip on his arm tighten some more. It happened all so quickly that Wilson didn't even have the time to turn his eyes away.
Jack shot himself through the head. He collapsed the second the gun went off, and all Wilson could do was stare at the dark outline of his crumpled form on the pavement.
That was when he saw it. It was almost like the old special effects from previous century movies when the protagonist died and their soul left the body. Only that this wasn't happening on a TV screen.
There was a cloud of white mist rising from Jack's body. In the light of the wall, it was almost invisible if it hadn't been for the changing, moving swirls that Wilson could see inside the mist. They didn't take on any particular form, but Wilson could tell that they were about to; if he just looked a little longer, he'd see something in that mist; a face, maybe, or a figure.
"Don't look at them!" It was the Doctor. Wilson registered him from the corner of his eye, coming towards him and House. "Stop looking! It's the Ethmmoruraelry."
With some effort, Wilson tore his eyes away from the changing mist and looked at the Doctor. He was a mess. His front was spattered with blood. There was even some in his hair, and Wilson was reminded of just how messy it was when people got shot.
He also knew the slightly shell-shocked look in the Doctor's eyes, remembered it from his late-night shifts as a young MD, although Wilson had to give it to him that he was holding it together pretty well, considering he was covered in blood and bits of a man's brain.
"Don't look!" the Doctor said again, and Wilson turned to House, who was still staring in the direction of the wall of light. With an effort, he pulled his arm from House's fingers and gripped his in return, shaking him a little.
"House! House, look at me."
For a moment, Wilson thought House hadn't heard him, but then House slowly turned his head, visibly reluctant to tear his eyes away.
"Look at me, House," Wilson said again to make sure he understood, and also to give himself something to concentrate on. The urge to turn back towards the misty swirls was strong enough for Wilson to believe the Doctor when he said they were dangerous.
"Do not try and touch these humans!"
Wilson looked up and saw that the Doctor had placed himself between them and the nebulous swirls, and was staring up directly into the whitish mist.
"I will fight you for them, and you know I will win. Leave this dimension, don't try to come here again. I will know it if you try, and I'll stop you. You know I'm able to."
The urge to look up, to see the mist shifting into that final shape, grew almost too strong for Wilson to resist. He grabbed both House's arms and sought out his friend's sharp blue eyes, whose colour was perfectly recognizable in the bright light of the gap between the universes.
"Look at me, House, don't look at them, look at me, alright?"
House didn't answer, his eyes wide, his whole body tense, and Wilson knew that the only thing House wanted in this moment was to look at the Ethmmoruraelry, to see their real shape, to know what they were. The knowledge gave him the strength he needed to hold House's gaze, to make it impossible for the other man to look away, and the Doctor's voice faded into the background.
"Leave now, leave this plain of existence and return to where you came from. Don't try to come back. Leave these worlds in peace."
Without breaking eye contact with House, Wilson noticed the quality of the light changing, the brightness of the Ethmmoruraelry fading, moving away; then, from the corner of his eyes, he could see the wall crumbling, flickering and growing dimmer and darker. He was still looking at House, but he knew all the same that right now, the thousands of Whitney Streets behind the wall of light were fading out of existence, vanishing one by one until all that was left was this one Whitney Street, and that the wall was pulling together to one central point, like a slow-motion version of an old TV screen going out in a whizz of static.
Wilson didn't look away, wouldn't let House turn his eyes away from him, until he thought he could actually hear the fuzzy popping noise of the light disappearing, and his surroundings grew as dark as it was appropriate for this time of night. Only then did he allow himself to blink and break eye contact.
House, who had been standing there frozen in place, shuddered and briefly shook his head as if to clear it. "Let go of me, Wilson," he said. "You're hurting me."
"Yes, sure, sorry." He let go of House and looked around for the Doctor. For a short moment, Wilson thought he'd disappeared, too, but then he spotted him crouched next to the dark, man-shaped form lying on the pavement in the middle of the street. He felt a pang of sympathy, and started to walk towards the Doctor, the tapping of rubber on pavement indicating that House was following him.
As he came closer, he could hear the Doctor speak, and before long he could make out the words. "... yourself into a big mess, and when I come to help you out, you ruin my suit."
"I'm really sorry about that, Doctor. I'll get you a new one."
The voice was a pleasant tenor, the tone was slightly amused, the accent was American, and Wilson stopped dead in his tracks, staring.
"He was dead. A minute ago, he was dead."
The man on the ground - the dead man - propped himself on his elbows, squinting at Wilson and smiling. "So I was. D'you like this little trick of mine?"
Jack let the Doctor help him up and stood, his coat swishing as he turned around. The light from a street lamp illuminated his features, and Wilson noticed with an emotion that he wouldn't have been able to describe if his life had depended on it that not a single strand of hair was out of place.
"I'm Captain Jack Harkness. And who are you?"
"I'm Doctor Gregory House." Wilson's eyes flicked to the left, where House had come up beside him. He was leaning on his cane and squinting at Jack. "You just regrew half your head including most of your brain, your skull, your skin and your hair. You even regrew the hair gel. How did you do that?"
Jack's eyes, which had been resting on Wilson in a way that Wilson would have described as flirty if he'd been in any state to give these sorts of things any consideration, moved over to House, and his eyebrows drew together. "Um, it's... "
"It's complicated," the Doctor interrupted. "Has to do with time and the Vortex and the TARDIS and is way too complex to be explained right now. Would anybody mind getting out of here? I really would like to change into some clean clothes."
-###-
Wilson followed the other three men back up the street towards the blue box, blocking out their voices and struggling to strengthen his grip on reality, which was slipping. He concentrated on the sane, black pavement under his feet, and his fingers on the sane, creased cuffs of his shirt. With each step, he felt the real world moving closer and the faces he hadn't seen in the misty white swirls moving away, and by the time they'd reached the phone box, what had happened back in that side alley seemed about as real to him as the events of the movie he'd watched last Saturday.
Wilson found that he could live with that.
"We will have to hurry, Jack." The Doctor's words were the first thing that reached Wilson as he returned his attention to his surroundings. The four of them were standing next to the blue box - the TARDIS - and the Doctor had slipped his hands back into his pockets, squinting at something in the sky. "The gap won't stay open for much longer."
"You're going back to your universe?" That was House. He was leaning on his cane and looking at the Doctor, and in his stance, Wilson could see - something. It almost seemed as if House were apprehensive of something.
"Yes." The Doctor nodded. "We have to. Well, Jack has to. He's needed back there."
Jack threw the Doctor a look that seemed almost reproachful. "So are you, Doctor."
"Yes, I suppose." The Doctor lowered his eyes, and his gaze locked with House's. Wilson watched the two of them, and he could tell that something was happening, some unspoken communication was transpiring, but before he could figure out what it was, House looked away.
"Good luck, then," he said, his tone gruff, but not hostile. "I guess I won't see you around."
"Probably not." The Doctor sounded almost apologetic. Jack slipped his hands into his coat pockets and lowered his eyes. Wilson had a brief moment of feeling a bit useless, but then the Doctor looked around at him. "Goodbye, Wilson." He paused. "Is that your first name, Wilson?"
"Ah, no." Wilson cleared his throat. "No, it's not. My first name is James."
The Doctor smiled brightly. "That's a nice name. Goodbye then, James. And Gregory. James and Gregory." He looked back and forth between House and Wilson, and Wilson noticed a slight sadness creeping into his expression.
Then Jack took the Doctor by the arm. "Come on, let's go, before we end up stranded here."
"Right, right, of course." The Doctor nodded and pulled open the TARDIS door. A slant of bright, orange tinted light fell onto the pavement. "Have a wonderful life, you two," he said. "I wish you all the best."
"Thanks." There was no sarcasm to House's voice, no undertone at all, really.
The Doctor entered the TARDIS, and Jack followed him, with two fingers tapping his non-existent hat in an informal farewell salute. The blue wooden doors closed, and a moment later, the TARDIS began to fade in and out again, accompanied by a whooshing, whining noise that for no reason sent a cold shiver down Wilson's back.
Then the blue box was gone, and House and Wilson started to walk further up Baker Street, heading for number 221B.
-###-
Wilson was sitting next to House on the couch in House's living room, a beer that he'd barely touched yet growing warm in his left hand. The silence was heavy, until Wilson eventually broke it.
"You wanted to go with him, didn't you?"
House didn't answer at first, nursing his own beer, staring at the television screen that was, for now, still blank. "No," he said finally. "Why would I want to do that?"
Wilson nodded, accepting the lie without a comment, and took a sip from his drink. "You want to watch a movie?"
House pursed his lips in a way that might have communicated agreement, and Wilson got up to walk over to the shelf with the DVDs, running an idle finger over the row of plastic casings.
"No sci-fi," House said after a moment. "I don't want to watch any sci-fi tonight."
"No," Wilson agreed. "Me neither."
Beta: euclase
Rating: PG-13
Genre: Crossover, Angst/Action/Adventure
Characters: House, Wilson, Ten, Jack
Disclaimer: Neither House nor Doctor Who belong to me.
Read Part 1
When House and Wilson rounded the corner in the hospital's corridor and came into view of the isolation room, the Doctor was already waiting for them. He had been pacing up and down the glass wall like a caged animal, but as he saw them, he turned around immediately and activated the intercom.
"Did you find it?"
Wilson let House step forward and do the talking. He himself put his hands on his hips and watched the man in the isolation room. If he really was an alien, then Wilson was sure that there had to be something that gave it away. Aliens that looked completely human - that was too easy, as far as Wilson was concerned.
House leaned forward on his cane. "We found it. You can't begin to imagine how many 'bigger on the inside' jokes I'm trying not to make right now."
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Believe me, I've heard them all." His expression changed back to intense worry immediately, though, and he began to bounce on his toes. "Would you let me out now, please?"
"Not yet," House said. "I like being in a position of power when I'm trying to make you give up information." He picked up his cane and began to spin it. "It's an interrogation technique. I've learned it in a movie."
The Doctor stared at House; then he turned to Wilson. "Is he always like this?" he asked.
Wilson pursed his lips and nodded. "Pretty much, yeah. He's actually being nice at the moment."
"Charming." The Doctor turned back to House, and with a sudden movement, he planted his hand against the glass wall and moved in closer. House didn't flinch, but Wilson could see his shoulder muscles tense. "Listen," the Doctor said in a low, dangerous sounding tone. "There's an entity on the loose in this town, a very dangerous one. It has to be stopped. The only one who knows about it is me, and I'm also the only one who can stop it. The longer you keep me locked in here, the higher the risk that it'll start hurting people. I can't let that happen. So let me out of here now, or I swear, I will make you."
For a brief moment, nobody said anything, House and the Doctor staring at each other with only a couple of inches and a glass wall dividing them. Wilson watched, holding his breath.
"How will you make me?" House asked, his tone far too calm to be anything but a challenge.
The Doctor didn't move, but his eyes became even more intense, and Wilson felt himself beginning to grow rather nervous. "Let. Me. Out. Now."
"House, maybe you should let him out," Wilson said. "You'll have to do that eventually, anyway. Remember what you did to the box."
The words had a much stronger effect than Wilson had expected. The Doctor broke eye-contact with House and spun around, directing his frantic gaze at Wilson. "He did something to the TARDIS?" He sounded positively panicked. "Please tell me nothing happened to the TARDIS."
Wilson exchanged a look with House before he faced the Doctor again, feeling slightly sheepish. "Ah, well. It was - kind of an accident."
"What did you do?"
"House accidentally pushed some of the buttons," Wilson said and shot House a brief glare to communicate him to keep his mouth shut for once. "And then the box, well, it sort of started fading in and out."
"Oh, no." The Doctor put a hand over his eyes, and Wilson couldn't help feeling a little sorry for him. "So many things about this are so very much not good."
The Doctor dropped his hand, and his livid eyes went to House and then flickered over to Wilson. "You two are the most disastrous humans I've ever met," he said vehemently and then hesitated. "Well, not quite. There were more disastrous ones. But you two definitely make the top ten. Okay, twenty. But-"
"Alright, we get it," House said and walked over to the door of the isolation room. "What's it going to be now, do you want out or not?"
"Ah, yes, out. Very good." The fierceness disappeared completely from the Doctor's features, and once again his eyes lit up with busy excitement. He hurried over to the door, all but bouncing on his toes impatiently until House had unlocked the door.
"I need my things," he said as he brushed past Wilson. "And then I need to get to the TARDIS as quickly as possible." He jogged a few steps down the corridor; then he stopped and turned to face them with a slightly confused expression on his face. "Which way out of here?"
-###-
They went to retrieve the Doctor's clothing from House's office, and the Doctor made House give back the wallet, explaining curtly that it wasn't a wallet at all but something called a psychic paper. Wilson didn't quite grasp the concept of how it worked, but it seemed like it showed random identification certificates to anyone except the really smart people, an explanation that made House raise a very smug eyebrow. After that, they briefly discussed the quickest way to get to Baker Street and decided to take Wilson's car.
Wilson refused to allow anyone else but himself behind the wheel, and House claimed the passenger seat as usual, which meant that ten minutes later, the Doctor was trying to arrange his long legs in the foot space of the Volvo's backseat, repeatedly poking Wilson in the back, and talking a mile a minute, relating the most improbable tale Wilson had heard since he'd worked night shifts in the ER.
"I'm actually not from this universe," he began, and Wilson felt another poke as the Doctor shifted. "I'm from a parallel universe, which is actually quite similar to this one, only that my Earth has more aliens. I wonder what that says about my interference in their timeline."
"A parallel universe," House repeated. "Like in movies?"
"Actually yes, it's pretty much like that." Wilson stopped at a red light, and there was another stab in his back. "Only that the getting back and forth isn't as easy. Or it shouldn't be."
"So how come you're here, then?"
"Yes, well." The Doctor produced a cynic little snort. "As usual, this started out with Torchwood meddling with things they have no business meddling with. Really, those people. At the rate they're going, they're going to cause some serious damage sooner rather than later."
"Torchwood?"
"Never you mind," the Doctor said. "I think they don't even exist for you. What you need to know is this: a friend of mine got himself into a bit of a fix by taking on the Ethmmoruraelry, transdimensional beings from the dark times. They were trying to set up a network between the third dimensions of the fifth level using power derived from the implosion of two universes of the first level. Torchwood couldn't let that happen."
"Obviously." The dry undertone in House's voice was unmistakable.
The Doctor exhaled audibly. "They were trying to build a bridge between universes by destabilizing yours and the one I'm from," he explained. "In my world, Torchwood got wind of the plan and attempted to stop it, but twenty-first century humans are no match for the Ethmmoruraelry. Even if they have Jack."
"Who's that?"
As the Doctor answered, Wilson noticed his voice getting a hint tenser, and he checked the rearview mirror to see the strange man staring out of the car window into the night as if he were looking for someone. "That's my friend I was telling you about. The second he attracted their attention, the Ethmmoruraelry took him captive and then used him for their own purposes." The Doctor looked around, and Wilson started as his gaze was suddenly met by two dark, intense eyes. "The Ethmmoruraelry are powerful beings, and the human mind is no match for their mental abilities. They can't take on a corporeal form, so they possess lower life forms if they need any sort of errand carried out. By taking over Jack, they gained access to the most sophisticated technology on my Earth. They made him use the Rift manipulator-"
"They made him use the what?"
Wilson was impressed at how House seemed to keep up with all of this. He himself had by now resigned himself to the fact that whatever it was that was going on, it went way over his head, and all he could do was tag along and play chauffeur.
House seemed to be on top of things, though, and it reminded Wilson once again of the reason why House always got away with everything: he seemed to never lose track of things. So if he did something that seemed completely insane, it wasn't him you questioned, but you ended up wondering what it was that you were overlooking.
It was quite a neat trick, actually, now that Wilson thought about it.
"The Rift manipulator," the Doctor was explaining. "In my universe, there's a Rift through time and space running right through the city of Cardiff. Unfortunately, a couple of years ago, Torchwood found a Rift manipulator, and ever since they started tinkering with it, the Rift has been acting up, spitting out aliens in the middle of Central Square and whatnot. The Ethmmoruraelry used Jack to manipulate the Rift to open a small crack to this, your universe. That's how he got here, and I followed him with the TARDIS."
"But why?" Wilson asked, thinking that this was the one thing he really wanted to know. "What do your Ethmoh-whatever people get out of your friend being in this universe?"
"Somewhere here in this town is a gap," the Doctor said. "Not a Rift, it's not that big, mainly because there's no Torchwood in this universe meddling with things they don't have the first clue about. It's just a small gap, a place where the layer between the universe and the Void is very thin. The mission Jack has been given by the Ethmmoruraelry is to find that gap and tear it wide open. The matter in this universe and the one in my universe will attract each other like magnets, and the force of the collision will destroy both universes and kill every life form living in either of them."
Silence followed the Doctor's words. Wilson tried to wrap his mind around this explanation, but his mind refused to cooperate. The idea of an event that would destroy not only everything Wilson had ever known, but also the rest of the Earth and billions and trillions of other planets plus a whole other universe - that thought was a little too H. P. Lovecraft to take it in.
"I guess we'd better find that Jack person, then," House said, and his calm, almost flippant tone completely fit the situation. They were on their way to save two universes from ultimate destruction. There was no other way one could talk about this than in a calm tone that audibly expressed the small, ironic smile playing about one's lips. Wilson noticed that House had the end-of-the-universe voice down pat.
"That won't be a problem once we get to the TARDIS," the Doctor said, as appropriately unmoved by the gravity of their situation as House. "She can find him."
They didn't talk until Wilson pulled up to the curb of Baker Street and killed the engine. As he got out of the car, he looked over at the blue box standing twenty feet away and still fading in and out of reality.
The sight had been mind-boggling before, and it was still rather strange, but what Wilson found even more astonishing was that there was no crowd. Not even a small one. No one was standing in front of the TARDIS, gaping or shooting clips with their cell phone to upload them to YouTube first chance they got. Nobody was pointing or yelling or calling the police. The few people that did pass it by threw one or two anxious looks over their shoulder and quickly walked away.
"That's some box you got there," House said.
The Doctor grinned happily. "I'd say so." He held out a hand. "Keys, please?"
Entering the box was easier this time, but only a little. Wilson figured that if he closed his eyes before he stepped over the threshold, maybe his heart wouldn't do this small, worrying skip on entering, and so he almost ran into House who had stopped right behind the door and was looking around the impossibly big room.
"Sorry," Wilson muttered and manoeuvred around House, who wasn't paying him any attention. Wilson walked over to the railing that ran along the ramp that led from the door to the central console and leaned against it, glad to have something solid under his fingers. The gridded floor with the shadowy maze of machinery beneath made him feel a little like he imagined walking on water would feel.
In the company of the Doctor, House was a lot less bold in here. He was still bolder than Wilson, though. He limped up the ramp to where the Doctor was bent over the console and leaned against the circular railing behind him.
"So, what now?"
The Doctor didn't answer right away. Wilson could hear him muttering something under his breath, and as he watched, he thought he could see him running a caressing hand over the console. It almost seemed as if the Doctor was stroking his ship, but Wilson dismissed the idea. After all, how was he supposed to know how those controls worked? Maybe when you were in a phone box that was actually a bigger-on-the-inside space ship that wasn't invisible but couldn't be seen anyway, you stroked buttons instead of pushing them.
Finally, the Doctor looked up, and directed his gaze at House. He didn't look very happy. "What did you do?" he asked. "How did you manage to turn on the Integrity Destabilizer without triggering the Vortex Avidity Program? That shouldn't even be possible."
House raised an eyebrow. "'Impossible' is not a concept I'm familiar with."
The Doctor looked as if he were going to reply, but then he only shook his head and turned back to the controls.
While the Doctor and House had been talking, Wilson had slowly edged along the railing towards the centre of the room, and was now standing close enough to be able to see what the Doctor was doing. Not that it made any sense to him whatsoever. The Doctor's fingers were moving with an amazing speed; he was flicking switches and pushing buttons seemingly at random. He had pulled the monitor closer and was frowning at it with a concentrated expression on his face. The images flashing across the screen didn't tell Wilson anything, and he exchanged a look with House, who apparently didn't understand any of this either, but for some reason managed to look a lot less lost than Wilson felt.
With a small jab of envy Wilson wondered how he always seemed to manage that.
"There!" the Doctor suddenly exclaimed, straightening up and startling Wilson out of his mesmerized daze.
"What?" House had pushed himself off the railing and was limping over to look at the monitor.
"I found Jack," the Doctor said. "Well, not me, technically the TARDIS found him. He's right..." He frowned at his monitor again and squinted, and Wilson remembered the glasses they'd found among the Doctor's stuff.
"Where's Whitney Street?" the Doctor asked.
"Just down the street and around the corner."
The Doctor looked up at House, and Wilson saw him pale. "It's not that small side street down the block, is it?"
"It is, actually, yes."
The Doctor quickly straightened up and grabbed his coat. "Come on, we have to hurry!"
Wilson just managed to get out of the way as the Doctor brushed by him towards the door. He exchanged a surprised look with House, then hurriedly followed the Doctor. House's cane made a hollow thumping sound on the metallic floor as House followed as quickly as he could.
"Doctor!" Wilson stood beside the door of the TARDIS, which had stopped fading in and out and looked as solid as ever, waiting for House to catch up, his eyes on the Doctor who was already halfway down the block. He didn't stop when Wilson called out.
"Come on, Wilson," House said as he passed him by. Wilson closed the door of the TARDIS behind him and took a few quick steps that brought him up next to House.
"What's the hurry?" he asked. "What's in Whitney Street?"
House threw him a quick side-glance. "The mysterious Jack, I assume."
"But-" Wilson took a deep breath, not exactly knowing what he was protesting against, and then shook his head. "This is crazy," he said. "You've finally managed to drive me insane."
House didn't react, didn't even make some sort of sarcastic remark, and Wilson would have commented on that if they hadn't arrived at the corner of Baker and Whitney right that moment.
They rounded the corner and both stopped in their tracks.
In Wilson's book, meeting a man with no lungs and two hearts who owned a space ship that looked like a telephone box was quite crazy, but still somehow conceivable. After all, the concept of alien life forms with alien technology wasn't new to him, even if it was a bit of a shock to have it confirmed in real life.
What he was seeing now, however, lay so far beyond his realm of understanding that at first, he was sure he was hallucinating.
Whitney Street, usually a small back alley of the seedy, creepy kind running down the narrow gap between two building blocks, was completely transformed. The first twenty feet were the dirty pavement Wilson was used to seeing here, but then, the change started. There was a wall of white light reaching up into the sky, going up all the way to the second floor windows of the buildings lining the street. It wasn't transparent, Wilson was sure of that, because somehow, he knew that the street he saw behind that wall of light wasn't the Whitney Street he knew. Or at least it wasn't only that street. It seemed like there were thousands of Whitney Streets behind that barrier, each overlayed by another, creating the impression of a blurred, three-dimensional photograph.
This part of the image wasn't the most disturbing aspect, though. There was something between this street and the streets behind the light, something that took up no space and wasn't visible, except that Wilson could see it anyway. He had never experienced anything like that, except maybe when earlier this evening, he had first laid eyes on the Doctor's phone box. The feeling he'd had then had been unsettling, but this was ten times stronger. There was something behind that light that wasn't there, and it was wrong.
Wilson's throat dried up, and he took an involuntary step backwards. He probably would have turned around and made a run for it if House hadn't chosen that moment to reach out and grab his arm.
"Wilson, look!"
Wilson followed the direction House was pointing in with his eyes, and realized that he'd only been taking in half the picture. Before the wall of light stood a man. He was quite tall, with dark hair and broad shoulders, and he was wearing a long coat that in the light of the wall behind him seemed black. Wilson couldn't make out his features, but he could see quite clearly what he was holding in his hand: it was a gun, an old-fashioned revolver with a thin barrel, and he was pointing it at the Doctor, who was standing between them and the man in the coat.
"Jack," Wilson heard the Doctor say. "Jack, put the gun down."
Nobody moved. Wilson's eyes flitted back and forth between the Doctor and Jack.
"Jack, you know you don't want to do this. They are making you. Don't let them control you, Jack, you're stronger than them."
Wilson thought he saw the gun in Jack's hand tremble, but Jack didn't lower it, and when the Doctor took a small step towards him, he visibly tightened his grip on the weapon. Wilson barely registered House's fingers digging deeper into his arm.
"Stay where you are." Jack's voice was strained, but his words had definitely been a warning. The Doctor apparently thought so, too, because he stopped and slowly raised his hands in a gesture of peace.
"Okay," he said. "I'm not going near you. But you have to fight this, Jack. You mustn't do what they want. I know you're strong enough, Jack."
"Go away," Jack said. "Go away, or I'll shoot."
"No, Jack," the Doctor said, imploringly, and Wilson had to admire his courage, because he saw him take yet another step towards Jack. "You won't shoot. You don't want to, don't let them make you."
Wilson could only see Jack's silhouette, but he could hear his harsh breathing, and could see the gun's aim waver as Jack's arm started to tremble with strain.
The Doctor had seen it, too, and he edged closer yet towards Jack, now no more than three or four feet away. If Jack shot him now, there wouldn't be much hope of survival for him.
"It's alright, Jack," the Doctor was saying. "You don't need to do this. Don't let them make you. I can help you, just put the gun down and I'll -"
There were maybe two feet left between the two men, and Wilson was already starting to dare hope that maybe this wouldn't end in a bloodbath when suddenly, Jack made a strangled, desperate sound and turned the gun away from the Doctor - and towards himself.
"Jack, no!"
The report seemed extremely loud in the confined space between the two building blocks. Wilson flinched and ducked his head and felt House's grip on his arm tighten some more. It happened all so quickly that Wilson didn't even have the time to turn his eyes away.
Jack shot himself through the head. He collapsed the second the gun went off, and all Wilson could do was stare at the dark outline of his crumpled form on the pavement.
That was when he saw it. It was almost like the old special effects from previous century movies when the protagonist died and their soul left the body. Only that this wasn't happening on a TV screen.
There was a cloud of white mist rising from Jack's body. In the light of the wall, it was almost invisible if it hadn't been for the changing, moving swirls that Wilson could see inside the mist. They didn't take on any particular form, but Wilson could tell that they were about to; if he just looked a little longer, he'd see something in that mist; a face, maybe, or a figure.
"Don't look at them!" It was the Doctor. Wilson registered him from the corner of his eye, coming towards him and House. "Stop looking! It's the Ethmmoruraelry."
With some effort, Wilson tore his eyes away from the changing mist and looked at the Doctor. He was a mess. His front was spattered with blood. There was even some in his hair, and Wilson was reminded of just how messy it was when people got shot.
He also knew the slightly shell-shocked look in the Doctor's eyes, remembered it from his late-night shifts as a young MD, although Wilson had to give it to him that he was holding it together pretty well, considering he was covered in blood and bits of a man's brain.
"Don't look!" the Doctor said again, and Wilson turned to House, who was still staring in the direction of the wall of light. With an effort, he pulled his arm from House's fingers and gripped his in return, shaking him a little.
"House! House, look at me."
For a moment, Wilson thought House hadn't heard him, but then House slowly turned his head, visibly reluctant to tear his eyes away.
"Look at me, House," Wilson said again to make sure he understood, and also to give himself something to concentrate on. The urge to turn back towards the misty swirls was strong enough for Wilson to believe the Doctor when he said they were dangerous.
"Do not try and touch these humans!"
Wilson looked up and saw that the Doctor had placed himself between them and the nebulous swirls, and was staring up directly into the whitish mist.
"I will fight you for them, and you know I will win. Leave this dimension, don't try to come here again. I will know it if you try, and I'll stop you. You know I'm able to."
The urge to look up, to see the mist shifting into that final shape, grew almost too strong for Wilson to resist. He grabbed both House's arms and sought out his friend's sharp blue eyes, whose colour was perfectly recognizable in the bright light of the gap between the universes.
"Look at me, House, don't look at them, look at me, alright?"
House didn't answer, his eyes wide, his whole body tense, and Wilson knew that the only thing House wanted in this moment was to look at the Ethmmoruraelry, to see their real shape, to know what they were. The knowledge gave him the strength he needed to hold House's gaze, to make it impossible for the other man to look away, and the Doctor's voice faded into the background.
"Leave now, leave this plain of existence and return to where you came from. Don't try to come back. Leave these worlds in peace."
Without breaking eye contact with House, Wilson noticed the quality of the light changing, the brightness of the Ethmmoruraelry fading, moving away; then, from the corner of his eyes, he could see the wall crumbling, flickering and growing dimmer and darker. He was still looking at House, but he knew all the same that right now, the thousands of Whitney Streets behind the wall of light were fading out of existence, vanishing one by one until all that was left was this one Whitney Street, and that the wall was pulling together to one central point, like a slow-motion version of an old TV screen going out in a whizz of static.
Wilson didn't look away, wouldn't let House turn his eyes away from him, until he thought he could actually hear the fuzzy popping noise of the light disappearing, and his surroundings grew as dark as it was appropriate for this time of night. Only then did he allow himself to blink and break eye contact.
House, who had been standing there frozen in place, shuddered and briefly shook his head as if to clear it. "Let go of me, Wilson," he said. "You're hurting me."
"Yes, sure, sorry." He let go of House and looked around for the Doctor. For a short moment, Wilson thought he'd disappeared, too, but then he spotted him crouched next to the dark, man-shaped form lying on the pavement in the middle of the street. He felt a pang of sympathy, and started to walk towards the Doctor, the tapping of rubber on pavement indicating that House was following him.
As he came closer, he could hear the Doctor speak, and before long he could make out the words. "... yourself into a big mess, and when I come to help you out, you ruin my suit."
"I'm really sorry about that, Doctor. I'll get you a new one."
The voice was a pleasant tenor, the tone was slightly amused, the accent was American, and Wilson stopped dead in his tracks, staring.
"He was dead. A minute ago, he was dead."
The man on the ground - the dead man - propped himself on his elbows, squinting at Wilson and smiling. "So I was. D'you like this little trick of mine?"
Jack let the Doctor help him up and stood, his coat swishing as he turned around. The light from a street lamp illuminated his features, and Wilson noticed with an emotion that he wouldn't have been able to describe if his life had depended on it that not a single strand of hair was out of place.
"I'm Captain Jack Harkness. And who are you?"
"I'm Doctor Gregory House." Wilson's eyes flicked to the left, where House had come up beside him. He was leaning on his cane and squinting at Jack. "You just regrew half your head including most of your brain, your skull, your skin and your hair. You even regrew the hair gel. How did you do that?"
Jack's eyes, which had been resting on Wilson in a way that Wilson would have described as flirty if he'd been in any state to give these sorts of things any consideration, moved over to House, and his eyebrows drew together. "Um, it's... "
"It's complicated," the Doctor interrupted. "Has to do with time and the Vortex and the TARDIS and is way too complex to be explained right now. Would anybody mind getting out of here? I really would like to change into some clean clothes."
-###-
Wilson followed the other three men back up the street towards the blue box, blocking out their voices and struggling to strengthen his grip on reality, which was slipping. He concentrated on the sane, black pavement under his feet, and his fingers on the sane, creased cuffs of his shirt. With each step, he felt the real world moving closer and the faces he hadn't seen in the misty white swirls moving away, and by the time they'd reached the phone box, what had happened back in that side alley seemed about as real to him as the events of the movie he'd watched last Saturday.
Wilson found that he could live with that.
"We will have to hurry, Jack." The Doctor's words were the first thing that reached Wilson as he returned his attention to his surroundings. The four of them were standing next to the blue box - the TARDIS - and the Doctor had slipped his hands back into his pockets, squinting at something in the sky. "The gap won't stay open for much longer."
"You're going back to your universe?" That was House. He was leaning on his cane and looking at the Doctor, and in his stance, Wilson could see - something. It almost seemed as if House were apprehensive of something.
"Yes." The Doctor nodded. "We have to. Well, Jack has to. He's needed back there."
Jack threw the Doctor a look that seemed almost reproachful. "So are you, Doctor."
"Yes, I suppose." The Doctor lowered his eyes, and his gaze locked with House's. Wilson watched the two of them, and he could tell that something was happening, some unspoken communication was transpiring, but before he could figure out what it was, House looked away.
"Good luck, then," he said, his tone gruff, but not hostile. "I guess I won't see you around."
"Probably not." The Doctor sounded almost apologetic. Jack slipped his hands into his coat pockets and lowered his eyes. Wilson had a brief moment of feeling a bit useless, but then the Doctor looked around at him. "Goodbye, Wilson." He paused. "Is that your first name, Wilson?"
"Ah, no." Wilson cleared his throat. "No, it's not. My first name is James."
The Doctor smiled brightly. "That's a nice name. Goodbye then, James. And Gregory. James and Gregory." He looked back and forth between House and Wilson, and Wilson noticed a slight sadness creeping into his expression.
Then Jack took the Doctor by the arm. "Come on, let's go, before we end up stranded here."
"Right, right, of course." The Doctor nodded and pulled open the TARDIS door. A slant of bright, orange tinted light fell onto the pavement. "Have a wonderful life, you two," he said. "I wish you all the best."
"Thanks." There was no sarcasm to House's voice, no undertone at all, really.
The Doctor entered the TARDIS, and Jack followed him, with two fingers tapping his non-existent hat in an informal farewell salute. The blue wooden doors closed, and a moment later, the TARDIS began to fade in and out again, accompanied by a whooshing, whining noise that for no reason sent a cold shiver down Wilson's back.
Then the blue box was gone, and House and Wilson started to walk further up Baker Street, heading for number 221B.
-###-
Wilson was sitting next to House on the couch in House's living room, a beer that he'd barely touched yet growing warm in his left hand. The silence was heavy, until Wilson eventually broke it.
"You wanted to go with him, didn't you?"
House didn't answer at first, nursing his own beer, staring at the television screen that was, for now, still blank. "No," he said finally. "Why would I want to do that?"
Wilson nodded, accepting the lie without a comment, and took a sip from his drink. "You want to watch a movie?"
House pursed his lips in a way that might have communicated agreement, and Wilson got up to walk over to the shelf with the DVDs, running an idle finger over the row of plastic casings.
"No sci-fi," House said after a moment. "I don't want to watch any sci-fi tonight."
"No," Wilson agreed. "Me neither."