Title: Resurrection of the Unspoken Word

Author: SrslyNo

Summary: A nontraditional love story. How much do House and Wilson love each other?

Characters/Pairing: House/Wilson

Rating: R for language

Warning: It's from my fevered *jazz hands* imagination. Alternate universe set in the future – should be labeled Sci-Fi. Might be considered a deathfic, but it's not. Angst. Slash.

Wanted: Open-minded readers willing to suspend belief that sad stories can have happy endings, and that there is a good reason for House and Wilson to be OOC.

Spoilers: Not in this story.

Disclaimer: Not mine, and never will be.

A/N: Inspired by my cell phone – a plot bunny that's been hopping around for months, and finally deserved freedom. This will be posted in fairly often to cut down on prolonged angst. I'm grateful to my betas, bookfan85 for her keen eyes and support, and bishojo_kitsune for her excellent suggestions and being my muse.

Concrit welcome.


Part 3

Back to the future…

House was venting his anger by beating a titanium skull into an unsuspecting wall.

He was too late. Three years he waited, and from the warmth still coming off the body, he missed his chance by a couple of minutes.

Lifting the head, "Wilson! I know you're in there! You can't leave me again without speaking. Please, please. Just a sentence. A vowel. You know you want this moment as much as I do."

Eyes hollow and lifeless. Lips cold and slack.

There was nothing more to do. House wrapped his arms around the body and rocked it. Grief, quiet but heartfelt, poured from him as it had never done before. Tears rolled down his cheeks and onto the lifeless man. "Wilson." Words he'd never dared speak wrenched out of him. He kept hugging the figure, brushing away the hair to kiss the forehead. He choked out, "I love you."

Like rain on parched soil vitalizing a seed. One tear found its way down the android's back and soaked into a small rip in the battered skin. It slid down one chip and onto another, until it hung on the ends of two opposing breaks in the system and reconnected a circuit.

"So, how's the new leg?"

Startled, House raised his head from the bot's shoulder, looking at it carefully. He thought he heard whispering. He must be going crazy.

There was a soft vibration humming from the body.

The face was lifeless, but the mouth was moving, "Right, as always, House… I'm already talking to a jackass-- "

House couldn't believe it. He recognized the words. It was their last conversation, "Wilson! Wilson! Oh my God you're in there."

"House! Hold on while I go out to the lobby."

The melodic voice became louder, "I miss you."

"I miss you too, Wilson" House couldn't resist replying, his voice breaking over the words. Was this just an instant replay, or could a dead man speak from the grave?

"I wish you could have come to the conference with me."

"Me too." House touched his forehead to Wilson's as he answered.

"Look, I've got to go. House, I lo--…"

"No! Don't leave…"

"Look, I've got to go. House, I lo--…"

"Don't. You don't have to--."

"Look, I've got to go. House, I lo--…" The words were hung up on a tree branch from hell.

Unbidden tears once again broke upon the grizzled cheeks. His voice rang with bitter anguish, "Don't leave me twisting in the wind here! Finish the sentence, goddamnit!"

"Look, I've got to go. House, I lo-…lo-love you...You know it don't you? You'll never hear the end of it, if you tease me for saying so...But, I need to tell you…Ar-Are you listening?"

"I'm listening, Wilson"

"I'll love you forever, House."

The mouth stopped moving. The gentle thrumming vanished. Wilson was gone. Irretrievably gone.

I'll love you forever, House. I'll love you forever. Forever, House.

House let go. It was over. After all these years, he got what he was after. The last words from his lover's lips. He hugged the shell once more, kissing it. Honoring it for executing a valiant job.

The apartment was dark. He hadn't realized how late it was. Feeling bone tired, he stumbled toward his bedroom, throwing himself onto the covers. Tired, sad, but with the wearied relief of someone who just survived a category 5 hurricane, he replayed Wilson's words over and over until he slipped into a deep healing sleep.



The tang of bacon in the air. The scrape of utensils.

No. Impossible.

House opened his eyes. Did last night tip him over the edge?

Water was running.

Rubbing his hands over his eyes, he walked out to the kitchen. Someone was in there standing over the stove. Munching a piece of toast while glancing at the newspaper. Someone with shirtsleeves rolled up to the elbows. Feet shod in gleaming French shoes.

"Morning. How do you want your eggs?"


"Sorry, I can't remember how you like them. I'm a bit rusty after my wussy 'twin' made, what? Three years of breakfasts? About three thousand macadamia nut pancakes? Can you even look at them anymore?"

"It's really you?" House still wasn't sure if he was losing it.

The smug grin that answered his question was convincing him.

Wiping his hands off on a towel, they immediately locked onto the hips, (It was a long time since seeing that arrogant gesture. House thought he died and gone to heaven). "Yeah. Apart from the genuine simulated skin and the state-of-the-art circuitry, then it's pretty much me. Amazing, huh? After explaining how important my taking care of you was, Shockly said he would try to make some improvements on his design. Looks like he came through for us."

Nodding, House vaguely remembered the engineer mentioning something about software and fail-safes, but he wasn't going to let Wilson off the hook, "You found out about the aneurysm but didn't tell me," he accused.

"There was nothing to tell. I found out at my last physical. It was inoperable, so I did the next best thing." Raising his hands defensively, Wilson said dryly, "Can we please get along with each other for fifteen minutes before having our first argument?"

"If you're going to feed me within that time."

"Then tell me how you want your eggs, or you're gonna get them sunny side up whether you like it that way or not."

"Scrambled," House answered. Like his own brains felt right now.

Wilson echoed the sentiment, "Ah. Exactly like the inside of my head. You know, I remember some things, but not a lot. For instance, this banner on the newspaper. What the hell does, 'A new world order. A new world peace' mean?"

"Things have changed since…since you've been away." House looked behind him. The 'Wilson' doll was no longer in the hall. "Ouch!" He turned back around as he heard a chuckle.

"Sorry. I administered a medicinal pinch. You're not dreaming. It's really me." Wilson threw down Shockley's pamphlet, "You really need to read appendix C thoroughly. I wasn't 'dead' when you left me on the floor last night. My system was rebooting."

Wilson pointed to a slip of paper on the kitchen island, "And you better get used to my nagging. Look at those, while I get this ready."

House picked up the results of the latest diagnostic. He was afraid to see screaming red digits. His eyes widened with surprise. The numbers were black and off the charts. "Sonofabitch! You're gonna live forever."

A hand landed gently on House's shoulder as he was spun around to see Wilson smiling tenderly, "No, not without you House. You're the sole purpose that I'm here."

A fork and a plate of food was shoved into his hands. "Now stop trying to make sense of this and do something important. Taste the potatoes. I experimented."

Browned and crispy, the diagnostician closed his eyes floating away on the savory flavor.

"Saw shallots and fresh rosemary at the market this morning and thought I'd try it. Are you convinced yet?

Mummph! House nodded his agreement with his mouth stuffed full of potato. It was impossible to taste an herb he never ate before, and only the op 3 bot was capable of original thought.

"Then are you ready to fill me in about this new world order?"

Swallowing, House licked his lips, "France took back the Statue of Liberty."

Wilson shrugged, "She was beginning to show her age."

"Canada and Mexico merged into one country. Gives MexiCan a whole new meaning."

"I love Mexican food served by polite, apologetic waiters. They may take pity on me and offer free drinks when they hear you complain about the 'maracas' on the waitress."

"There are 49-1/2 states. Part of California fell into the ocean."

"San Francisco?"


"Damn! I always wanted to go there."

"Don't get too upset. The Castro relocated to Reno where ocean front property is cheap."

Wilson bit back a smile, "So, nothing's really changed."

House put down his plate, and moved closer to what he considered a living and breathing human being, "There's one epic reordering of the universe. Makes the rest pale in comparison."

"What's that, House?"

"You returned to me, Wilson." House looked away, and contemplated repeating what he said last night to Wilson's understudy. He launched a full out assault, "I love you."

Bushy eyebrows rose in surprise, "Now, that's downright cataclysmic."

Stepping within an inch of his heart's desire, "I love you, Wilson." House found it easier each time he said it.

Soft brown eyes shone with an interior light. Words soaked in affection fell from bow lips, "I love you too, House"

This time they embraced and kissed, and House had no doubts that this was the bona fide article. The long drought was over, and he drank deeply. His tongue explored every inch of the beloved mouth, and thrilled to the reciprocating sensations induced by his partner.

Eventually they moved on to the bedroom where they celebrated their union in undisciplined abandon, making love until neither doubted they were perfect for each other.

Only one spirit bonded them together, but that was quite alright. Both were confident it was an act of nature and not an engineering flaw.

Finally...two soul mates were joined as one.


Thank you for reading, All comments welcome. And, hugs to all the readers who commented on previous chapters! XD