Time-line: Sequel to Gone With the World & Riddled With Heaven
Summary: "Take what you like and pay for it, says God." (Spanish proverb)
Rating: NC-17, Adult, +18, Mature. Alternate Universe. Language. Rape. Sexual situations. Implausible medical conditions. SLASH.
Disclaimer: I will never have House, but others in this story certainly do!
NOTE: If you want to enjoy this story or its prequels, suspend your disbelief.
"But you don't want another baby, you've got eleven now." On the outside Wilson was being calm and reasonable, willing to accommodate whatever House had said he desired, namely - no more pregnancies. On the inside, he was yodeling off the top of Everest, his dick saluting the great wild world.
"But you don't want another baby, you've got eleven now." On the outside Wilson was being calm and reasonable, willing to accommodate whatever House had said he desired, namely - no more pregnancies. On the inside, he was yodeling off the top of Everest, his dick saluting the great wild world.Yes-yes-yes!!
After a month. "Still blue, House."
House ignored Wilson's comment about his new twins eyes. "They'll turn, and the brown shall appear. In the end, you brown-eyes always crawl out of the woodwork eventually.
After two months, though. "They're staying blue." House mused one day, puzzled over it. "That can't be. Brown is dominant." He glanced at Wilson. "Unless you've been wearing contacts all these years."
Wilson shook his head. "Innocent."
House balanced his tiniest boys on his lap, one suckling contentedly, the other sucking and frowning up at the tall, tall creature that towered over it; his father. House bit his lip while they drank. "Any blue-eyed people in your family that weren't supposed to be there?"
Wilson frowned now. "Not sure I-?"
"Did your dear sweet, religiously inclined Jewess momma, "incline" herself to a blue-eyed fellah when the Rabbi wasn't looking?"
Wilson couldn't help but smile. "No. Mom was a good girl. And dad owned a store." But House had a real puzzle. The doctor of mysteries had a mystery to figure out, and he was as happy as a pig in shit over it, too. Life was great.
Wilson hoped it would at least alleviate House's depression somewhat.
"Hmmm." Baby John-Daniel gurgled his approval over the formula. Greg-Michael already had his fill and was drifting off to sleep, his tiny head comically lolling to one side, which turned up the corners of House's mouth. The babies were content and still and yet House didn't put them down. He had glued himself to his newest offspring.
Wilson felt himself stiffen under the fabric of his jeans. Wilson knew, where House was concerned, that he was hopeless. House doing almost anything, made him horny. But House holding his babies...
That made House sexier to him than if the man were lounging naked in a tub of pink Jello. Well, not quite, but damn near.
Wilson tapped Foreman on the shoulder. "Come with me, fellow conspirator."
Foreman raised one weirded-out eyebrow but followed his mate to the back step. "You're acting a little like House. For future reference, that's creepy."
Wilson placed his hands on Foreman's shoulders. "The asshole - Josh - he left behind about fifty gallons of gas, on the trailer, right? We have fifty gallons left?"
Foreman nodded. "Fifty-five."
"Even better." He took a map from his pocket and laid it out on the wood landing. Pointing to a mark on the map - "Look. This is a town, right?"
Wilson was excited. "I want you and me to drive there and pick up something for House."
"Pick up what?"
"This secret chamber routine clued me in to that part. What is it you want to get him, and how do you know its there?"
"It'll be there."
Foreman raised both eyebrows this time. "Even if the town is big enough to have a Walmart, all the good stuff would have been pilfered by now."
"True. But I doubt they would have pilfered anything from the High School."
Wilson was serious, Foreman saw. "What kind of gift would you find in a high school?"
Wilson handed him a small picture cut from a magazine. "Are you serious? A high school won't have anything this top-of-the-line."
"But it'll be enough to keep House occupied."
Foreman seemed unconvinced.
"House needs this, Eric. We've all adapted pretty well to this life, but House, well, he loves his kids but he misses being the genius. He misses having to really think and use his brains for something besides adjusting the kids formula or how many diapers will he need today. He's depressed. This'll make him feel like a kid on Christmas morning."
"He does seem distracted lately. I mean, more than usual." Foreman nodded his head at Wilson.
Wilson could see Foreman's attitude shift. He was coming around to the idea. "I guess, if it might make him happier. . ."
Wilson nudged. "This could help him solve the mystery of my addiction thing, and why his new twins are blue-eyed wonders. Can you imagine his face?"
Not really. Prior to Outbreak, Foreman and House had socialized one or two times, and neither of those times had Foreman seen House smile or laugh openly. He knew House possessed an educated, if perverse, sense of humor, and was intelligent enough to carry through a conversation on just about any subject, but so rarely had House, in all the years he'd known him, smile freely, Foreman wasn't sure if House had a full set of teeth.
It would be something to see the man smile, or at least not look so isolated and forlorn all the time. Even in a house-hold of four men who loved him, House remained a loner. Foreman had a thought. "Where would we set this all up?"
"The storage closet just off the back entrance, where we store the wood."
"Where're we supposed to put the wood?"
"You and Eli build a lean-to at the side of the house - it'd be a few more steps in winter, that's all."
Also stepping into boots and freezing his ass off during those few steps. "We could build a walkway, maybe even a covered one."
Wilson almost whooped. "Yes."
Foreman raised a hand. "Hang on, we can't do this without everyone's vote."
"Yes, House's too. He's part of the family."
Wilson's heart sank. "I want this to be a surprise. Look - House is hiding it, but he really is depressed, and been feeling bad about himself since the twins were born. House thinks he's old. He feels useless. For him, that's like . . .torture."
"Okay, not House. We keep it a surprise." Foreman held up a hand of warning to calm Wilson's itching to go feet. "But if anyone else votes no, then it's no. We'll be using a lot of our gas up for this, so it has to be unanimous."
Wilson nodded. 'Let's ask them."
"Where's Foreman and Wilson?"
Chase exchanged looks with Eli. "Um, they took off in the car this morning. They're hoping to find another farm somewhere."
"Um, clothes, canned stuff, maybe even some diapers. Hey - they could get lucky and score some disposables."
House watched Chase with narrowed eyes. "You're lying." He looked over at Eli who had his arms crossed and was tapping one nervous foot on the floor. "So are you. It's a conspiracy of lies. Where did they really go?"
Chase stood up. "Sorry, got animals to feed. Eli'll fill you in." Chase slipped out the back door, leaving a round-eyed Eli to take up the slack. He was suddenly abandoned and all alone with an irritated, curious House. A House presented with a mystery and on the prowl for the answer, and there was almost no depth to which he might not stoop to find that answer.
House leaned in closer, right to his face. Eli drew back a little. "Um, I d-don't really know."
House smiled. A tiny grin of evil-knowledge over his largest lover. The stutter was a clear tell. Eli was a terrible liar. And a sucker for a roll in the hay. "But you almost know, don't you? Tell me everything and I'll take my clothes off right here. Chase is outside. We're all alone." House leaned in closer, real close this time, so Eli could smell his skin and feel his breath. Eli swallowed and leaned back again, House's chemical bomb making him dizzy.
"Whatsa' matter?" House said innocently. "Don't you love me anymore?" He nuzzled Eli's ear.
With superman effort, Eli slipped off the chair and out of the reach of House's groping hands. "That's not going to work, Greg. I promised I wouldn't tell."
"Hah!" House thrust a finger at him. "So you do know."
Eli shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm still not going to tell you."
House dropped his hands, his few seconds of victory fizzled away. "Hey - come on. Just tell me. I promise I won't let them know you spilled."
Eli followed Chase out the door. At that moment, one of the babies decided to start bawling.
"Baby's crying, Greg." Eli said lightly, and needlessly, as the door shut.
"Go feed your stupid goats then." House yelled. "And try and guess the next time you'll be sleeping over in my room." He called out louder. "I doubt you can even count that high."
Not sure if Eli had heard him, House gimped to the living room and continued with baby-duty. A few moments of pleasant diversion followed by hours of un-remarkable routine. His children were wonderful. He loved them more than anything. He still felt depressed.
"You love your nanny goats more than me." House grumbled, though if Eli had already reached the animal sheds, would certainly not hear him now. "Probably "loving" them as I speak." He muttered to himself.
House bounced Drake on his one good knee. His crippled thigh, which today had ached badly all morning, kept him in the house most of the time. His children occupied his hands but not enough his brain. There was little to distract him from boredom. House realized he had come near to the wrap-up of his half-useful years, having accomplished nothing but becoming a broken down, crippled up, graying baby-maker with no other practical utility what-so-ever.
House could feel a rare sensation growing in his chest. He knew the hormonal and chemical activity behind it, of course, but it still grew of its own stubborn volition. It was that rarely encountered - for him - human release that all people at one time or another displayed whenever the sadness, the pain, or the upset got to be too much to hold together. He felt like crying.
House tried to reason it away. He spent most of his day alone. Even when Wilson was in the house, with the exception of baby feeding times, he was usually busy elsewhere; in the kitchen preserving food, washing clothes, sewing, cleaning. And to escape that drudgery, Wilson got to vary his routine by switching duties with Chase now and then. Chase was becoming a pretty fair cook, while Wilson was learning what to do with goats and pigs, chickens and cows. Chase was also busy giving lessons in animal husbandry and veterinary skills.
Eli was teaching all the men how to load and fire a rifle, to trap and prepare meat (though of that particular skill House was content to remain ignorant).
Foreman was lovingly carving toys in the animal barn, little wooden wheely things for the boys to ride when they were old enough.
Other than the arrow tips House occasionally still had time to fashion for Chase's bow (and only done while watching over his kids), and the even rarer moment to take a walk by himself (during which Wilson sweated bricks that he might disappear again), House had only one job: Get pregnant, then get busy being Dad. Again and again.
Lately everything had been all about Wilson. House loved Wilson, he adored his kids, but he was lonely for normal, everyday company, and bored, and it was driving him mental.
But most of all, House felt old. Of the family of men, the oldest next to himself was Wilson and he was some ten years his junior. Foreman. Eli. Chase. All had decades ahead of them with strong, working backs, mobile feet; each man partaking of a variety of daily activities and - best of all - verbal interaction with each other.
House wiped at his eyes angrily. I change diapers.
House greeted Wilson at the door with a heart full of spit-fire. "Where the hell did you two go? I've been stuck inside for two days with eleven kids and no help at all."
Wilson tried to shimmy passed him with his arms loaded with cardboard boxes that had seen better days. "Getting some things." He staggered to the couch and plopped the items down as softly as his quivering arms would allow. "Chase and Eli were here."
"They were too busy keeping secrets to be of much use."
Wilson was followed out to the rusting vehicle by his agitated mate.
"Did it occur to you that I might want to go on a trip, too?"
Wilson looked at him with weary affection. "I thought you'd be pretty well done with travel."
House pursed his lips and blurted. "You know what I mean."
Foreman piled other boxes on the roof of the car and Chase held the door for him while he ignored House's griping and set his boxes down on the floor. Two more trips to the car was necessary before all the boxes had been brought inside.
Then two more trips to the vehicle's trunk produced four cooler-sized propane tanks. House stared, perplexed. "What the hell are those?"
Frustrated and in darkness, House limped after Foreman while he arranged the packages a little more neatly on and around the couch, setting the tanks down very carefully well away from the play-pen. Foreman watched House out of the corner of his eye, pleased to see that it was still possible to get House all flummoxed and dancing like he had ants in his pants. Foreman smiled. Today was turning into a fun. "Propane canisters, hence canisters full of propane."
House glared. "I can see that, you idiot. Where did you get them? Where the hell did you two go?"
Foreman stretched the fun out as far as he safely could. "We had a fit of nostalgia and went back to high school." Okay, that was enough. By House's murderous expression, he was ready to declare war, and that meant stop screwing with him right now or Foreman's favorite pants were likely to become the farm's newest flag hanging on the weather vane, flapping in the wind. Though a crippled one-good-legged gimp, House would some how figure out how to accomplish at least that - or perhaps something worse.
"Relax, House." Foreman said. "You're going to love this."
Pissed by the lack of answers from Foreman, House trailed Wilson into the kitchen, who was making busy with the tea kettle and cups. "Wilson-" Proceeding to fill Wilson's ears with the same questions he had just put to Foreman.
Chase drove the car out back and closed it up in the largest shed once more. He entered the house by way of the back step, kicked off his shoes, and stood there, watching Wilson and House verbally duke it out for a moment. Finally he put up his hands. "Shut up, both of you. My god - you're like children."
Chase was right. Wilson turned, planted both hands squarely on House's shoulders and pushed him down onto a chair. "House. Sit."
House sat as ordered. Then slumped. Wilson leaned over him. "It's a surprise. From me." He grinned like the Cheshire cat. "From all of us. And that's all I'm going to tell you."
House tapped his cane on the floor. He was a kid who had been kept out of the loop and now that he had been informed that the loop was for him, he wanted to jump inside the loop and look around. "When are you going to tell me?"
Wilson went back to the counter and tea-making. "Tomorrow, you'll see."
When his mates presented the gift to him later the next day or, rather, steered him to the back room that used to contain the wood and presented him to the gift, for a moment House didn't say a word. Then he slowly crimped around the small room, looking at the shelves Foreman had pounded together, the counter-tops that had been fastened to the wall to hold all the dozens of parts that made up the gift. It was an amazing gift.
After his silent, contemplative inspection, House turned to them. "You got all this stuff from a high school?" He turned back. It was a pretty good set-up. A fully stocked chemical lab, complete with make-shift propane Bunsen burner, a hand-cranked centrifuge, rows of sparkling clean beakers, dishes, glass slides in their own glass-topped boxes, and at the center of it all, a real, working microscope. A big, expensive one.
"Sorry we couldn't fix you up a computer display, but with no electricity. . ." Foreman said. "But we can fashion an ice-box. you'll be able to store some of what-ever crazy shit you decide to cook-up here - at least during the winter."
House raised his eyes to them as a group, tentatively, almost shyly. Looked away. Nodded a little. He wasn't rendered quite speechless but - softly, a whisper "Thanks." - almost.
Wilson knew that the moment was an awkward one for House. The others picked up on Wilson's need to talk to House alone, and filed out of the room.
Wilson stood beside him. House still had his eyes roaming around the room and the huge amount of work they had put in to making a gift for him. "You guys must have worked all night on this." Then to break the sentimental charge in the air. "You realize you guys will be running any tests, don't you? Crippled leg and all."
Wilson nodded. Naturally. House needed to challenge himself, to think, and then to test those thoughts. But Wilson had no doubt House would slip in here when no one was looking, and stir bubbling things together like Frankenstein.
Wilson explained. "Foreman and Chase banged together the shelves and stuff ahead of time." He stared at House, recognizing the quiet astonishment on his face. In the old days, except for himself, no one gave House gifts. In these new days, House had been giving and giving by way of a family of wonderful children to raise and love. House deserved this, even if he thought he didn't. "Do you really like it?"
House nodded. "We can actually make proper medications here, at least some basic ones." His eye fell upon two stacks of thick books, each piled ten high. Chemistry, biology, pharmacology, anatomy, the human genome. Including three different books on local common and rare plant life, and two on North American animals, birds, fish and insects.
Wilson nodded. The day-long trip, the gas, the energy, the sacrifice of the room, all worth it and more. In those books and within his own mind, House had thousands of pages of possibilities. Good years and years ahead of playing doctor - only for real. A little bit of the better parts of the old world introduced into the new. Wilson would have to scratch his brain for everything he could remember from Laurent's studies and applications regarding the very newest evolutionary life: House and other BM's like him. To that, there were probably still some surprises ahead for them.
"Now we can finally figure out what part of me you're addicted to." House added.
Wilson wrapped his arms around House from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder, not easy since House had two almost inches on him. "That's not the question on my mind."
He turned his head half way around until their chins touched. "Oh? What is?"
Wilson nuzzled his cheek. "What part of you aren't I addicted to?"
At bedtime, it was clear House had already been picking Foreman and Chase's brains clean about his first intended differential tests. After hours of House's running mouth, they'd slipped out to the animal barns to do - who knew what. House didn't care. Wilson was still present to pick over.
Wilson stripped, tossing his soiled clothes in one corner of the bedroom. House's room, to where House had invited him to stay for the night. Wilson proceeded to give himself a sponge bath while he, with quiet relish, watched House take his clothes off as well. Though his mouth never quit.
Wilson shivered. The bath water was cooling fast.
"Foreman and I figured we need to take samples of interstitial fluid, urine, blood, bowel-excretions, saliva, snot, every possible fluid in our bodies and - "
Wilson tossed the wet rag at House's face.
"Hey!" House caught it and threw it back, missing Wilson by two feet.
"What a lousy shot you are."
"That's not the only shots I can do."
Wilson smiled to himself. "Mmm, yes, I know. But can't you stop talking for a while?" Wilson walked over to him. House was rubbing his thigh.
"Let me do that." Wilson sat down beside him, and took over the motion, pushing House's hand away. House didn't seem to notice, and started up again. "We'll need to see how each reacts under the conditions of - mmph."
Wilson covered House's mouth with his own. He pulled away just an inch to say, "Be quiet for a while." Then pressed his lips home again.
House was on a roll, though, and kept up the chatter even while Wilson was trying to swallow his tongue. Every few breaths, House managed to get in a word here and there. "We'll" - smack! - "need to" - smooch! - "time the-mumph-umm" - Wilson pressed harder, effectively stopping up any more talk from his lover.
In a minute, House was lying down, in another, Wilson was ready at the gate. He dangled something above House's eyes like bait. "One condom left until Chase retires another Miss Piggy."
House rolled his eyes. "Get on with it." The differential could wait.
Wilson smiled, kissed House hard on the mouth, then carefully began to snap and pull the home-made rubber over his engorged penis. He stopped. "Oh, no."
It was almost a wail, and House lifted his head up. "What now?"
Wilson slipped the thing off again, his erection bowing before the show had even begun. "It has a tear."
House eyed him suspiciously. "Are you sure it isn't a cut?"
Wilson held the thing up to his eyes, making House go nearly crossed-eyed to see it properly.
"See?" Wilson showed him the spot near the tied off end. "It's worn thin here. That's why it tore - I probably broke it putting it on." Wilson sat up on his knees, still straddling House, still feeling his lover's erection against his aching balls. Looking down at House with dilated eyes full of hunger, his penis had faded but by no means had winked out. "Great." He felt instantly depressed. "Just great."
Blue balls and a storm of sexual frustration for a month. Batten down the hatches. Thar she blows.
House sighed, not with exasperation, but with a soft sigh of peaceful resolution. No storm on his horizon. "Forget the condom."
Wilson did a double-take. "For-forget it? R-really??"His voice pinched to a high squeak and almost broke. "But you could get pregnant."
"But you don't want another baby, you've got eleven now." On the outside Wilson was being calm and reasonable, willing to accommodate whatever House had said he desired, namely - no more pregnancies. On the inside, he was yodeling off the top of Everest, his dick saluting the great wild world. Yes-yes-yes!!
House jerked his head at Wilson. "Eleven-shmevin. Come on. Let's go."
Wilson almost fainted from the instant rush of desire. His cock was iron again in seconds, and he poised it at the doors to Paradise. "Are you sure about this? It means another baby."
House kissed him and, using his long, muscled legs, pushed against Wilson's back. Wilson was convinced and slipped a little further, easily a perfect fit, into his breed-mate. The sensation was an engulfing of spirit. As far as Wilson was concerned, it was his whole purpose. This was the new world. Right here. Right now. It was the reason they had all traveled this far, and here they would stay. Just like this.
"An even dozen. I can count."
Wilson asked again. "Are you absolutely sure you want another?"
House seemed sure, and of so, you just don't say no to the promise land. "Maybe just one more."
Wilson smiled, a lop-sided, seductive, purrie of lust and love. He slipped all the way in, moaning his approval of all things above and, especially, beneath him. He kissed him. "I love you so much."
House kissed back. "I know."
Wilson sank into his eyes, brushing together lips and the flesh of each other. New things were emerging and soon another new life of his body. The old world of pain and the hard crossing through it was far behind now.