Every Second

A House Fan-Fic


author's note: I am not the creator or owner of the characters mentioned in this story. I am instead a poor college student with no money or no hope of money. I wrote this story as a means of exploring the characters in the show, not for profit, notoriety, or other self-assuring means.

Chapter 19 - In the Evening

House, still humbled from his encounter with Chase earlier in the day, drove up to the front of the hospital in his corvette. He loved that car more than he could ever love any woman, even Stacy. He sighed; he knew he would never be over her. He looked in the rearview mirror to smooth out his hair a bit just as Wilson ran out with his overcoat and briefcase. New Jersey was cold in the winter.

"Same place, right House?"

House responded by revving the engine a couple of times.

"You sure are quiet lately."

"Shady, my hooker from last week,told me to try it."

"And since when have you actually done what she's said?"

They drove to the bar in silence, House watching the roads and the fresh snow that created a treacherous drive and Wilson watching House just to see how he could judge him now that the ordeal with Chase was over.

The evening went well, in true Housian fashion. Both men were drunk, and enjoying themselves a little too much when Wilson looked at the clock.

"House, it's getting late, we still have work tomorrow."

"No, one more for old time's sake."

Wilson sat down at the bar and ordered another round for the two of them. After the drinks came, and Wilson tried to get House to for once pay for his own alcohol, Wilson spoke up, the alcohol making him tipsy and keeping his thoughts from being inhibited.

"You know House, you need to resolve this problem with Chase."

House stopped mid-swallow. "And we were having such a good time."

"I'm serious House. You need to resolve this."

House thought for a moment. He knew he wanted to through a quick-witted response to keep Wilson from knowing what he was really thinking, however, he also knew that Wilson would keep interrogating him until he finally confessed to what he was thinking. A swallow of beer later and House responded, "That means revealing more to him than I am willing to do."

"Reveal what?" Wilson laughed in disbelief, "He knows you view him as your son."

"Then that's already too much for him to know."

Wilson took his friend's shoulder, swinging the barstool around and looked directly into his eyes, "Talk to him."

"I at least owe him the privacy that he deserves."

"So that's a no?"

House raised his beer to Wilson in an affirmative gesture.

"If you were in his place, you'd want to know."

Wilson's comment stopped House, and the older man knew he had to think. "If I was in his place, all I'd want was tough love and space to become my own man, and that's exactly what I intend to do. Every second that I interfere in his life is another second that he is reminded of the influence his father had on me and that he had on him. He doesn't need that. He needs to know that he can be who he wants to be, not a copy of his father. I'll be here for him if he wants to know, all he needs to do is ask, but I'll leave that for him to do."

Wilson sighed a sigh of acceptance. He knew not to try to get more out of House than this, and this was already more than House would normally admit. Remembering the Vicodin script he rewrote for House, he brushed the answer off as that. "I'm going home House. Do you have a way home?"

House looked back down at the drink in front of him and said his goodbyes for the night. He had done his job, saved the man that was like his son, and now it was time to let that boy become the man he really was. He closed his eyes, picked up the drink, and swallowed the last of it as Wilson tipped the bartender and motioned for each of them that it was time to go home. Snow was falling outside, and it was turning into another dark, cold night in Princeton. Time to go home, throw away his old alarm clock, and finally get a decent night's sleep in the silence of the beauty of his new digital alarm clock compliments of Robert Chase.