Logic and Proportion have Fallen Dead...
"Damnit Wilson, wake up or I'm going to kick your ass!"
Not the best way to start the day.
Wilson blinked, memory slowly returning to him. He was lying on House's couch, the same place he'd spent the night. He'd come over for their usual pizza, movies, and beer night, and deemed himself too drunk to drive. House had also fallen asleep on the couch, but Wilson hadn't had the heart (or the courage) to wake him up. He'd just grabbed some blankets and curled up on the other end of the sofa.
The blankets had shifted over his head sometime in the middle of the night. He reached to pull them away but just found more cloth.
"And don't think I'm not capable because of my leg, I'll find a way!" House's voice penetrated the fabric.
"What are you yelling about?" Wilson, still not quite awake, yawned.
"Just get up!"
"Alright, I'm…" He trailed off. He'd been grabbing at the cover for almost a minute now, and he still hadn't gotten it off his face. "Why can't I find the edge of the blanket?"
"It's to your left."
"What do you mean, 'my left'?" Wilson demanded, moving leftward. "I should just be able to reach out and…"
He trailed off as he emerged from under the blanket. House was standing nearby, and looked upset. What appeared to be mountains of soft cloth surrounded them.
He blinked at House, confused. "Where are we?"
"We're still on the couch." House limped over to him.
Wilson paled slightly. "No."
The oncologist took a long look at their enormous surroundings, his eyes slowly widening. The living room seemed to be the size of an airplane hanger, with appropriate scale. The couch back arched high above them, an impossible skyscraper of upholstery.
"You can keep on saying it, but it won't make it true." House retorted.
"What did you do to me?!" Wilson rounded on him.
"You think I shrank you?!"
"No, but you obviously did something to me. I'm hallucinating!"
"Everything looks about twenty times larger than it should. Clearly I'm hallucinating." Wilson said. "What did you slip me, 'shrooms?"
"You're not hallucinating. Everything is really, really huge." House replied flatly. "Or in better terms, we're really small. We've shrunk."
"I'm having a nightmare." Wilson dragged a hand across his face. "It's got to be a--"
House pinched him viscously.
"That feel like a nightmare?"
"House, there is no way this is real." He rubbed the spot House had pinched. "People can't shrink. It violates the laws of thermodynamics."
"I'd say science is falling a little short here." House grinned slightly.
"Great, I'm not only having a nightmare, I get to listen to your witticisms."
"We've been over that. You're not sleeping." House looked thoughtful. He pinched himself and winced. "And neither am I."
"If…if I was to admit that this might be real," Wilson said cautiously, "then how did it happen?"
"That is a really good question." House replied. "But a better question would be 'What are we going to do about it?'"
"I'm going back to sleep. When I really wake up this will just be a bad dream." Wilson burrowed back under the giant covers, trying not to notice how much coarser the material felt. If he noticed that detail, he might have to take note of the hundreds of other details that would make this too real to be a nightmare.
"I don't think so." House grabbed Wilson's leg.
"House, let go of me!" Wilson yelped as he was pulled backwards.
"Nope. We've go to deal with this." House said firmly. "I suggest calling one of my fellows in."
"My cell phone is on the coffee table. Maybe we can get to it." Wilson sighed, giving up on his nightemare assumption. He eyed the expanse of the couch for a moment. "If we can get on the table, that is. There's at least a foot of space between us and it."
"Do you think you could jump it?" House asked.
Wilson frowned slightly. "I don't know."
"We'll just have to think of something else then." House sat down on a large lump of blanket.
"We could climb down to the floor."
"Even if we did climb down we'd still have to find a way to get to the phone." Wilson pointed out.
"If we got to the floor we could probably crawl under the door space."
"Right. We'll walk the six miles to work." Wilson put his hands on his hips. "Never mind your leg or the fact that we're six inches tall."
"More like four inches actually." House held his hands at the approximate width. "And I'm much less worried about walking the six miles than I am about getting eaten by an animal on the way."
"I'll jump it." Wilson said dryly.
He inspected the space slowly. The drop to the floor was more than considerable at their size. Wilson did a few quick calculations, figuring the space was now nearly the equivalent of four stories. Easily enough to seriously injure or kill him if he didn't make the jump.
"Just twelve inches." Wilson muttered to himself. That didn't sound like much.
"If you can't do it, don't. We'll find another--Wilson!" House broke into a bellow as his friend took a running leap. Wilson braced himself as he…
…Made it. He skidded on the slick surface of the table, nearly crashing into the gigantic cell phone.
House gaped at him from across the divide. "Damnit Wilson, warn me before you try and kill yourself!"
"Next time, no problem." Wilson said dryly, trying not to let on how the stunt had scared him. He circled the enormous cell phone for a moment and began prying it open.
"Why…did we switch…to flip tops?" He panted.
"They're cooler." House replied, slipping quickly back into nonchalance. "And geeks like you can pretend it's a communicator from Star Trek."
"I…hate…Star Trek." Wilson grunted as the phone clicked open. "Who should I call?"
"Better make it Chase, he'll come running no matter what you tell him."
"Sometimes having a suck-up on staff is a good thing." Wilson muttered, selecting Chase's number from the call list. The ring sent him stumbling backwards. He hadn't expected it to be so loud.
"Chase." Chase said on his line.
Wilson bent down over the other end of the phone. "Chase, it's Dr. Wilson. You have to come over to House's apartment now."
"Dr. Wilson? Speak up, I can't hear you."
"Come to House's apartment!" Wilson said loudly.
"Please, just do it. House is…unwell. I can't leave him."
"Um, okay…Do you need something from the pharmacy?"
"Uh, not really. Just hurry. The key is under the mat, you'll have to let yourself in." Wilson replied.
"Dr. Wilson, is House making you play a prank on me? Call me Robert if he is."
"Chase, no. Just get over here." Wilson groaned.
"Alright. I'll be there in half an hour." Chase hung up.
Wilson pushed the 'end' button. "He thinks you're playing some sort of joke on him."
"Normally that wouldn't be a bad assumption."
Wilson contemplated the jump back to the couch warily. "I don't think there's enough traction on the table for a running start."
"Hold on, maybe there's something I can do." House stood up. He grabbed a corner of the gigantic throw pillow and began tugging it towards the edge of the couch cushion.
"If I jump and fall on that it won't help much."
"Not a cushion…a bridge." House managed. "Won't support much weight, but you can't weigh more than an ounce or two."
House managed to push the cushion forward enough so Wilson could grab the edge and haul it onto the table.
"If I had know how much work would be involved with it I never would have bought this couch." House flopped onto the blanket, totally spent.
"Because you could have seen this coming. " Wilson replied, scurrying quickly across the makeshift bridge. "Well, Chase said he'd be here in half an hour."
"We should be able to hold out that long without getting eaten by the cat." House replied.
"You don't have a cat."
"And this is why."
End of part one