A/N: I'm sure this has been done by somebody before, but never by me ^_~ This is a Christmas Carol rewrite (sort of), there will be four chapters posted (unless something goes horribly wrong) each Saturday in December until Christmas. The next chapters will be a little longer, and follow (slightly) closer to the plot of the book…
Warnings: House/Wilson slash, implied (or not so implied…) character death in the Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come chapter
Disclaimer: In no way do I own either House or A Christmas Carol, I am just borrowing them
Or, The Donor Party
It was Christmas Eve and both House and Wilson were still at the hospital's Christmas party.
A big overweight man stalked past, he glared over at House and snarled, "Scrooge."
Wilson snickered, "Who was that?"
House shrugged, "Dunno. Some donor. He wanted me to give him money. I asked him why he needed my money when he was clearly rich enough to buy really expensive, ugly clothing."
"He's got you pegged, though," Wilson grinned. Then in a fake eerie voice he continued, "You will be visited by three spirits, Scrooge."
"Sure, thanks for that Marley." House glared at his friend.
"Hey! I'm nothing like Marley, plus I don't wanna to be dead." Wilson whined.
"I don't know… You really are the Marley to my Scrooge, minus the dead part. I hope."
"How long do you think Cuddy will keep us here?" Wilson asked a moment later, after looking around the room for anything remotely interesting.
"Depends on how many donors I can tick off, and how quickly. I think the fat guy was important though, so she might actually kick us out now."
"HOUSE!" the furious roar caused all movement to stop and all conversations to cease, as the furious women stalked towards House and Wilson.
"Five… Four…" House began to count.
"Why must you always make my life so difficult!"
Under his breath, so that only Wilson could hear him House continued, "Three…"
"And you!" Cuddy rounded on Wilson, "You are supposed to be able to control him!"
"Who told you I could do that?" Wilson asked, truly curious, he needed to find whoever had started those rumors and kill them. He couldn't control House any more than he could control a really crazy, hungry tiger.
"…two…" House muttered.
Cuddy looked like she wouldn't mind if both of them dropped dead right then.
"GET OUT! Both of you. Just leave!" Cuddy exploded.
Outside, snow was falling, beginning to coat the ground.
"Maybe we'll have a white Christmas." Wilson said wistfully.
"Aren't you Jewish?" House asked.
"Eh." Wilson shrugged noncommittally. "Come on, I'll drive you home. It's too cold for you to take the bike."
House scowled but followed Wilson without an argument.
The ride back to Wilson's was quiet. House scowled outside at the Christmas lights. Wilson's eyes flicked over to him, then he sighed and turned on the radio. A Christmas carol began to play, House's scowl deepened and he reached over to turn the radio off. Wilson rolled his eyes but didn't say anything, he knew that his friend was not a holiday person, and it was easier not to argue.
As soon as they got back to the flat House stomped away to his room. Wilson heard the door slam, and the click of the lock. Wilson rubbed the back of his neck absentmindedly, he was starting to hate the holiday too, if only because it made House so unbearable.
House changed quickly and dropped into his bed, scowling at the ceiling. He was laying there, in the dark, when he heard the clanking. He sat up with a start, the noise paused and then resumed, louder than before. It sounded like metal chains. He heard his door creak open, House flicked the light on, but his door was still shut and nobody was in the room.
You will be visited by Three Spirits a ghostly echo of Wilson's voice from earlier echoed through the room.
House scowled, "Wilson, what the hell?"
You must change your ways House. The first Spirit will visit you tomorrow, expect him when the bell tolls one. The second the next night and the same hour. The third will come the next night when the last stroke of Twelve has ceased to vibrate.
House stood up and slammed the door open, shouting Wilson's name. The oncologist stumbled out of his bedroom, blinking blearily.
"What do you want House?"
"Where you just saying something?" House asked.
"No! I was asleep. What's going on?"
"Nothing. Just go back to sleep."
Wilson nodded, and went back into his room.
House went into his own room, slamming the door behind him and growling "Humbug!"