Pain Canes and Suffering Ch. 1

Once he moved in, the line between what was House and what was Wilson had been blurred. Now they shared everything much like many couples do. This included from the living spaces all the way to the life altering decisions. Now having been together for a few years they had each others habits, mannerisms and schedules committed to memory.

Unfortunately for the both of them that also meant there were medications to memorize. House's pain failed to decrease or even plateau which meant constant medication. As the months progressed the dosages and frequency of administration increased about as frequently as the amount of pills taken increased. He was now not only on Vicodin for pain but was also on an anti-emetic for the vomiting, a laxative for the constipation, muscle relaxants for the increasing spasms and a multi-vitamin to help prevent further illness.

With House's health digressing slowly, the introduction of a relationship with his best friend could have made the problem worse. Wilson now had to make sure that he kept the right balance of friend, doctor and partner. While he made sure everything was taken when it was needed and that his friend was doing alright he had to also keep his distance. It was an even more delicate balance than it was prior to them considering their friendship a relationship.

Wilson became the watch dog, he monitored House silently and made mental notes of when days were bad and the consistency of those days, when meds needed to be refilled, as well as how House was feeling, what he felt up to doing and what he distanced himself from. Spending so many years with House, Wilson could now tell how the morning was going to be by how House got out of bed, he could even tell how his day went by how he was sitting on the couch when Wilson returned home. House knew just as many specifics about Wilson. How his day went by what he did as soon as he came home, if he slept well by how Wilson walked and acted through his morning routine, and when he wasn't feeling well by how talkative and energetic he was throughout the day.

They were obviously great for each other, an almost perfect pair. The only thing that got both of them down was the increasing in the now obvious amount of pain House had been steadily gaining. His Vicodin levels had doubled since the previous year and he was getting breakthrough pain on almost a daily basis. He looked haggard more and more frequently, spent more time in his office away from everyone and rarely caused chaos for Cuddy. He just didn't have the energy like he did when he was in less pain. For House to refrain from a prank or an intolerable medical move was what got Cuddy interested in House's discomfort. He would only make a gutsy medical call when he was sure that was what needed to be done. His lack of motivation to even fight medically was a sure sign that something bigger was going on.

Wilson watched as the pain slowly took the House he knew away from him. It had happened to him once, when the infarction first happened. House was new to the pain and the lack of mobility. Wilson stuck by and eventually regained most of his best friend back. Now it was happening all over again. House had become withdrawn in the sense that he wasn't up to his antics, was very quiet, and even more firm in his decisions. The team had long been changed from the original three of Chase, Cameron and Foreman to three people he barely spoke about. They were there only for him to bounce ideas off of and to tell him when his ideas were too obscure to be correct.

Wilson knew that if he didn't make a mention of this problem that he could lose his House forever, but he didn't know how to lead into that big discussion. It was always a touchy subject, House's emotions and physical feelings. He barely told Wilson when he had a cold or the flu until Wilson could see it in House's eyes, when the fever was obvious and he just looked sick. House had looked sick for far too long by Wilson's standards.

Wilson joined House on the couch; his posture said today was alright. He could tell by House's scent that he had already showered, probably to relieve the muscle tension left over from the spasm. He looked much more relaxed and comfortable than he appeared all day.
"How ya feelin'?" He treaded lightly.
"Alright."
"You haven't looked too good lately."
"I know. Haven't been feeling good lately."
"You worry me, you know?"
He turned and looked at Wilson's big brown eyes. His blues looked tired almost like they were asking for help, deep down, what the surface was afraid to say, his eyes were begging for it. "I know." He put his hand on Wilson's knee, rested it there. His head followed suit and rested on Wilson's shoulder. "I don't really want to talk about it. Makes me feel worse."
"Meds working?"
"You know they aren't."
"Maybe I can fix it."
"I'm beyond repair."

Wilson sighed hoping that he was just kidding, the uncomfortable annoyances he suffered through daily were the ones talking, not the real House. House sighed as well. Just being able to sit quietly with Wilson and stop moving for five minutes was enough to make everything subside for a few moments. He wished he could go back and make it all better before it got bad, but pondering what ifs only made the present seem worse.

Wilson rested his chin on House's head following a kiss. He wished he could make it all better, could have avoided their current situation altogether but it wasn't possible. House rested on Wilson, slowly drifting off, finally pain free for the time being.