House, not Wilson: deserever seires sruoH s'esrunsdiK

The idea is totally pilfered from Kidsnurse's Hour series where Tritter wins and someone suffers: what if it was House instead of Wilson.

"You could be up for parole in six months."

"I'm not getting out anytime soon."

"Aww Jesus House. Not again! What did you do this time?"

"I fucked up."

"What did you do?"

"I hit a guy…"

"With what?"

"A food tray."


"He was stealing my food and I was hungry."

"How long did you get this time?"

"Six months in the Pound."

"So I can't come see you for six months."

House nodded. "I get moved tomorrow." He looked up. "Can I send you my stuff? I gotta have someone to send it to or they'll ditch it again."

"Why would I want that crap? Your drawings suck. I looked like Smokey the Bear in the last one. What was with that hat?"

"It was artistic license and I'm getting better."

"Bullshit." Wilson ran his hands through his hair. "So no windows huh?" That was all he knew about the place House called the Pound.

House didn't look at him. "No windows for a while," he confimed.


House shrugged. "They never feed you enough."

"I send you food."

"They don't let me have it. They say it's regulations or some crap, but I think they just eat it themselves. They either take or destroy everything."

"But another six months?"

"Yeah – well."

"Aren't you getting sick of this place by now? Do you even want to get out?"

"What's the point?"

"Better food."

"Okay, you got me there." House looked up. "Gotta go: man with a big stick wants me."

"See ya in six months House."

House stood up and put his hands behind his back. "See ya Wilson."


Do not read this if you like Wilsie: much gut kicking sadness for Wilsie.

Kidsnurse's original story: kidsnurse./24801.html#cutid1

And a big thanks to Kidsnurse.