Ok so this isn't short enough to be a drabble but it's not long enough to be a story, but basically it's House's thoughts and feelings following Kutner's death T.T Basically House goes to Kutner's apartment and Wilson walks in. Slight vague slash references if you squint, but not really labelled that way since this is what Jimmy would have done in Season 1 or 2. Wilson's growing away from House T.T NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!! Ok here's the story.
House didn't need someone to hold his hand. He didn't want to go to the funeral and he didn't want to seek some form of comfort from the other mourners. He wanted to be here. Here in Kutner's apartment staring at photo's and the bloodstains. All he could think of was those last few moments with him. As he smiled and happily admitted that he let Talb steal his idea. He looked up from the photo he was holding to see that the sky had darkened and there was someone standing in the doorway.
"There was nothing you could've done. No one saw this coming." House scoffed and looked out the window his eyes watering and his throat hurting as if something was stuck in it. His heart ached, because this was another loss. Another loss for him. It hurt more so because he was beginning to realize what no one else dared to say. "It's alright to miss him." The person in the doorway finally moved inside revealing themselves. It was Wilson. Wilson sighed as he walked in. "It feels like your apartment." Wilson mumbled as he walked in and sat down next to House. House simply stared at his long time friend waiting for him to say something that would inspire him to realize the truth. Wilson silently turned and looked at House and finally spoke what he wanted to hear. "He was like you."
House simply waited, because he knew there was more. That his Jimmy wasn't finished and that he was simply shocked by his own statement as he often was when he rambled. "You're more upset than any of us, because he seems like you." House finally moved. He licked his lips and forced down the lump in his throat as he stared at Wilson. "So, what was different?" He asked barely above whisper as if afraid if he spoke any louder Wilson and this moment would disappear and he'd become like Kutner. Alone and depressed and unable to reach out. He didn't have anyone to reach out to. He felt the loneliness every day when he came home and shut the door to his apartment. No amount of music, activities, or even friends could fill the loneliness that both House and Kutner felt. It was like a heavy blanket that surronded them everyday and suffocated them with the emptiness of it all.
"What keeps me from doing what Kutner did, then? Well, Wilson? What makes me different?" He asked wanting, no, needing the answer more than anything else in the world. Wilson sighed and looked around the room and at the photos and finally looked at House. Really looked at him. His hand reached out and gripped House's thinner hand and squeezed clinging to the one constant in his life. Forcing every unvoiced thought and emotion into that one action and clinging to that pulse that beat just under the skin that let Wilson know House was there and would always be there. Just as House gripped back for the exact same reason.
Yeah so that's all. Please R&R ^.^ Thank you very much.