A/N - I'm really bad at grammar so I was wondering if anyone would want to help me out a little with it.
Disclaimer - I own nothing but the story line
"Have you guys seen House?" Wilson asked poking his head into the conference room.
The ducklings were all packing to go home for the day and House was still nowhere to be found. House had conveniently avoided Wilson all day, much to the doctor's annoyance. So far he had used clinic duty, lunch with the coma guy, and Cuddy as excuses whenever Wilson had seen him in the hall.
He was sure House found his books when he was in the shower. One thing for sure was that someone moved the things. Knowing House Wilson wasn't all that surprise.
"He's in his office," Cameron said pointing towards the shut door.
Wilson gave a small nod and muttered thanks as he strode over to the door. He gave one knock in warning before entering. He blinked a couple of times trying to adjust to the dark room. House's blue eyes radiated, illuminating the room enough to scare Wilson a little. He shook his head and flicked on the light suddenly, causing House to blink back in surprise, and anger.
"Somehow I don't think this is your office," House said glaring at Wilson.
"Let me guess…you saw my work station," Wilson sighed, walking towards the desk before plopping down on the seat across from House.
"Never knew you were deciding on taking two specialties. Oncology and psychiatry…"
"House," Wilson started.
"No it's ok. I get it. I mean you've been on this little tangent about the whole Vicodin thing and then recently the whole alcohol thing. Why shouldn't you add depression to your little list Dr. Wilson," House spat out putting an emphasis on doctor. "You do know best, right Jimmy?"
"House come on! I'm trying to help you!" Wilson pleaded.
"Forget it. I don't need your help. Go home to Julie. Don't worry. Tonight I won't call you. You might add pathetic to your list," House said slinging his bag over his shoulders.
Wilson watched dumbly as House limped out of the room. He gave a big sigh rubbing the back of his neck with his hand. The room felt too small all of a sudden and walked dejectedly towards House's patio. He jumped the small barrier to get to his office, collecting his things before heading out to the elevator as well.
"Do you have something on your mind Hun?" Julie asked interrupting Wilson from his thoughts.
Wilson shook his head, picking at his dinner half-heartedly. "Nothing. Just a patient…"
"Child? Leukemia? Those always get to you," Julie sat down besides Wilson taking a small sip of his water.
"No. Nothing like that. I'm just really worried about…you're going to think I'm stupid."
"Honey…there's nothing you can do that will make me…" Julie stopped mid sentence, unable to reassure Wilson like she wanted.
How could she say there's nothing that he did that made him look stupid? There were a lot of things he did that made him look stupid. A lot.
Wilson narrowed his eyes before giving an audible sigh. "See."
"Try me," Julie suggested.
"You're right I think it's stupid."
Wilson cringed, feeling his ears start to turn red in repressed anger. "House is showing signs of depression."
"He's always been showing signs of depression. Also been showing signs of being a jerk," Julie said standing up and grabbing Wilson's half picked dinner off the table.
"You just never got to know him," Wilson defended. "He's my best friend you know."
Julie scoffed and yelled over her shoulder, "Don't remind me."
"I don't want to have this argument with you again," Wilson stated walking into the kitchen.
In all honesty he had a pounding headache. He already knew Julie's view of House. She had made it quite clear the first time they met when House told her she wanted him for the sex and the money. Julie rolled her eyes but allowed herself to bite her tongue. Tonight had been unusually good and she didn't want to ruin it. After all, James was home for dinner, and that was an accomplishment.
Both didn't say anything as Wilson subconsciously reached for a dishtowel, drying each dish Julie handed to him. He wanted to talk House but each time he tried calling it said his phone was off the hook. He tried the cell phone but it was turned off. He tried paging the guy a couple of times but he never returned the page. Wilson was worried. House was the type of person to act before thinking. And if he didn't answer soon Wilson knew that he would have to ruin the "perfect evening" by checking on House.
"I guess you're hungry aren't you Steve?" House muttered placing some food in the rat's cage. "Yeah I'm hungry too."
House watched the rat nibble at the lettuce selfishly. It had been a hell of a long day. They of course had to speak to Stacy and Mark about his progress and all that fun stuff. For the most part he only grunted in agreement or disagreement. He allowed Chase and Foreman to do most of the talking. Cuddy had busted through his glass doors, pointing towards the elevator, and ordered him down to clinic duty.
House smirked remembering Cuddy's shocked face when he voluntarily stood up, and made his way towards the clinic without being told 10 times. Then there was Wilson, who seemed to rather enjoy a game of Hide and Seek. House didn't plan on seeing Wilson the entire day, so of course Wilson set out hunting for him.
"I'm not depressed," House announced to himself, making his way to the kitchen. He opened the refrigerator and grabbed for the peanut butter. "I'm hungry, not depressed."
House fixed himself a sandwich. Once complete he reached for a familiar bottle of scotch, taking both to the living room. He plopped down on the couch, turning the TV onto Spongebob in a desperate attempt for some comedic laughs.
It had been four hours later when House finally turned off his TV, stumbling across his living room in a drunken haze. Fuck who moved all the furniture…ok I can do this…House you can do this!
House ran into his tall lamp, trying to grab hold of it before it shattered to the ground. Unfortunately, his hand eye coordination was at this point practically non existent, and he quickly accompanied the lamp on the ground. Ow. That hurt.
"I think I'mdrun," he said out loud. "Stevey drun. Wilson's gonna be mad…"
House gave a loud laugh as he slowly attempted to pull himself from the floor. "I'm screwed Stevey." House fell back on the floor as the table toppled over him, glass shards penetrating his shaking arms.
"OW!" He hissed in pain, staring at the blood that was starting to pour out. "That hurt. Wilson!"
House gave another loud yell, his call for Wilson more like a pathetic plea than anything else. "Stevey I'm tired."
House whimpered as the adrenaline slowly left his body. His stomach was doing flip flops, forcing him to vomit besides him. "Wilson…" he called out loud every few minutes, though knowing very well that Wilson wasn't there. The vomit reeked and the smell made him vomit even more. He could feel the sharp glass everywhere, yet when he tried moving his leg protested badly. Sleep was calling for him, but the doctor in him told him it would be very bad to do so.
The somewhat tidy apartment had become a war zone as it's owner laid helplessly on the ground. The expensive glass coffee table embedded pieces into House's skin, blood accompanying the vomit on the floor. The light was out after he toppled over the lamp. The only light came from the kitchen, and even then House felt like that light was too bright.
"I need Wilson…" he muttered slowly allowing the darkness swallow him.
Wilson stared at the ceiling unable to fall asleep. Julie and he had retired fairly early to the comforts of their bed. It was a good day with minimal fighting which meant only one thing to both Wilsons. Julie had fallen asleep immediately after, while Wilson chose to stay up. And so here he was three hours later still staring at the ceiling.
He had a bad feeling in his stomach. Something was wrong. House still refused to answer the phone. Wilson wasn't sure how long he would allow himself to wait in bed. Leaving now would be fatal if he wanted to keep this marriage working, but at the same time it was House. He was like an oversized six-year-old left in a non-childproofed house.
Wilson didn't know how long he stayed in bed. He didn't know how long he sat and waited for some kind of hint that he should leave. Sometime during the night Julie had somehow draped an arm around him protectively, something she hadn't done in months. And Wilson laid painfully still with the guilt eating away at his insides. Guilt for not being the proper friend, and guilt for not being the proper husband.
The phone rang startling Wilson from his slumber. He jumped in surprise before groaning, instantly regretting the previous action as the sun poured unfiltered through his glass windows, the rays falling on him. He stole a glance at the time and cursed silently as he threw the covers off, yanking the phone from it's previous position.
He stole a quick glance on the caller ID before cursing to himself silently. "SHIT."
"Dr. Cuddy. I know I'm late," Wilson started the explanation. "I didn't plan on it, it's just my alarm clock was off and I…"
"Wilson," Cuddy's voice was soft, very different from the demanding angry boss voice Wilson was expecting.
"What's wrong," Wilson asked immediately stopping dead in his tracks.
He didn't feel Julie leave the bed in the morning. He didn't notice the water running, or the slam of the front door as Julie left for work. The fact that he had slept through it all made him start to wonder just how long did he stay in bed thinking about House. When exactly did he fall asleep? And why had he slept for so long.
"Ok, before I start, everything's under control," Cuddy said choosing her words very carefully.
Wilson rolled his eyes starting to once again gather his things. "Cuddy, if that was supposed to reassure me it didn't work."
"Are you sitting?" Cuddy asked.
"Should I be?" Wilson walked towards his bed and sat impatiently at the corner. "I'm sitting. What's wrong?"
A/N - See what I mean by bad grammar? Well if anyone's interested it would be greatly appreciated. Hope you guys liked the update and encourage me to continue by reviewing if you want me to do so.