Wow, I forgot to post this awhile back. My bad! Plz do not bash at my idea or my crude use of songs. I've been having the weirdest dreams where everyone keeps singing to me... and I dont know why... But! I hope you have time, this is a long one but keep on the positive note.
Just one more chapter to go.
House clenched his fists tightly into his knees, his head bowed to the overwhelming guilt that drowned his soul. Annabelle stood behind him, a frown of concern on her face for both him and his best friend.
Annabelle received a text from House earlier, telling her he did something bad. She tried to call him but he never picked up, this worried her to the core. She texted him, demanding to know where he was. He just typed one word and she ran out the door of her bakery.
When she arrived, she ran into House's boss, Cuddy who gave her a look of worry before whispering to her the room number he was in. She thought the worse, was House hurt? Did his depression worsen? He texted her saying he had done something bad, what did he mean? He couldn't possible mean killing himself…right?
She rushed into the room and was taken back from the sight. House wasn't the one in bed as she thought, no, he was sitting beside the it, his face showing no emotion, but his eyes, those blue eyes were red and sore, as thou he had been crying. Her eyes looked to the bed and her fingers covered her mouth to keep back the gasp.
Wilson was the one hurt.
He laid motionless on the bed, his heart monitor beeping out in a steady rhythm. He looked pale and sweaty, was he sick? She approached House, unsure on what to do. She wanted to ask but she didn't want to upset him. When she got to his side, House turned his head to her, eyes staring painfully at the floor. "His sleeping it off now.." He whispered.
"He…didn't show up for work." He began, his fingers squeezing, knuckles white. "Cuddy told me, told me to find him and bring him in. Something happen in the oncology ward. I called but all I got was his voice mail so.. I went to get him."
House's breath shuttered when he let it out, his eyes closing tight. He walked into Wilson's loft and began his search, slamming his cane loudly on everything to bring his friend out. He stumbled on his friend laying face down in the couch. An evil prank came to mind but as soon as he rounded the couches corner, an awful smell hit his nose. He saw puke on the floor and finally noticed the containers upon containers of alcohol. Doctor mode kicked in, dropping to his knees, he turned his friend over, his stomach dropping at the sight of vomit lingered on Wilsons face. His skin was dulled down and no matter how many times House called his name. He was non responsive.
He called for an ambulance then, his hands quick to search for any signs of relief. Wilson was still breathing, but it were slow. To slow. Touching his throat, he felt a faint heart beat and panic set in.
"They pumped his stomach." House went on, his hand quick to press into the side of his face to smear away a wet trail he refused to accept as a tear. "We caught it early… god.. I did this."
"House." She frowned, "You didn't-"
"No. I did." He spat those words coldly at her. "I told him I wanted him, everyday. I told him I couldn't go back to friends. I forced him to pick, to be with me or nothing. I didn't mean to do this, to push him to drink. I should have just accepted his refusal. I should have just kept quiet!"
She touched his shoulders but he pulled away, his hands covering his face. "I just needed him to need me. To be with me… I did this to him, My selfish need drove him to this." This time she couldn't hold back. Her arms snapped around his neck and held tight. He grabbed her forearms and squeezed and she feared he was going to try and push her away yet he turned his head and buried the side of his face into her own, his body trembling as he tried to control his dread.
"No more." He whispered painfully to her. Her fingers touched his face, holding him tight as he snuffled.
"I can't do it anymore."
With one hand, he reached out, touching Wilson's limp palm. Shaking fingers tracing those still digits down to their fingernails. "I didn't want to hurt him… No more. I wont ask him anymore."
"No." He said sharply. Giving that soft hand a squeeze, he let Wilson's hand go, letting it rejoin his other.
"My need isn't important anymore… I'll just keep this friendship."
"If there is any of it left."
What was that noise?
Wilson let out a soft groan at the sounds of heavy muffles and movements. Lifting his head to be greeted with light that made his eyes close in a flinch. What time was it? Once his pupils settled, he glanced and his thick brows shot up. He was in the lobby of PPTH. The heavy muffles were people talking back and forth. How did he end up there?
He was slumped over on the counter, like he had rested his head on his arms in a pointless effort to find some ease. He didn't remember getting to work, he didn't even remember getting up from the couch. What got him more was the fact his head was not hurting, he remembered the large amount of alcohol he shoved down his throat, he should be having a killer migraine or at least be in his bathroom puking his guts out.
Rolling his fingers through his thick hair, he began to rise when a sound fluttered to his ears, making him turn towards it. Was someone playing their Ipod? It wasn't loud but it was enough to catch his attention and by the look of everyone bored expression, only his. It was coming from the clinic area. Pushing off the counter, he approached to see who was playing their music. Glancing through the glass doors, he spotted people suddenly started to slow down. This freaked him out a little, everyone was moving in slow motion, was he still drunk? He shook his head to get his mind to work properly when from the corner of his eye, he caught his boss. Even in the weird funk of slow stepping, she was moving at normal speed. Not only that, she was singing. Her white lab cat was floating around her as she walked, her arms hugging a chart to her chest.
"When I was younger I saw, my daddy cry and curse at the wind."
This was strange, why was she singing aloud? It was like she was in her own music video. He tried to get her attention with a wave but she kept singing on, moving so gracefully around the main information desk.
"He broke his own heart and I watched, as he tried to reassemble it."
She placed the chart onto a bin, her long soft hair curling around her face when she looked up, staring back towards her office.
"and my momma swore that she, would never let herself forget… and that was the day that I promised, I'd never sing of love… if it does not exist.."
Wilson looked with her and his lips parted a little in surprised, he didn't even notice Lucas standing there. Leaning his form against the door frame of Cuddys office. He smiled at her with such warmth, such love that Cuddy smiled back, her heels clicking as she made her way back to him. Reaching her hand out to his own when his arm beckoned out to her. "But darlin'…" Hand grasp, Lucas twirled her into his arms while she sang, holding her so tightly that Wilson felt the ping of jealousy.
"You are the only exception…"
This was weird. He must be having a dream caused by the drinking. But why singing? That made no sense. He suppose he had to try and wake himself up but how. Walking back to the lobby, he began to ponder, maybe if he jumped off the roof then he would wake up. As ideas began to pour in his brain, the entrance doors busted open, shining a flash of light that all but knocked him back a few steps. Arms raised on reflex, he peeked over to see what caused the doors to do that. The answer was not to his liking.
The second his eyes landed on House, music started out of no where. Like stereos taped to his ears. House looked so…different. He moved with his cane so easily, so second nature. A shadow appeared suddenly between the doors that it caused House to turn towards it. Wilson lowered his arms and sides step his way to see as well, wanting to know what got his friends attention.
Annabelle was standing, her body clashed in a rocker get up that Wilsons jaw almost dropped. Her curls were pulled up into a messy bun, tight jeans tucked into high shin pure black heel boots, a red tank under a black graphic t-shirt that was cut up, bareing her creamy skin. God, she was every bikers dream at that moment and the way House looked at her, Wilson suddenly wanted to get in the way.
The music got louder and Annabelle moved to the beat, approaching House, a hungery kitten to a bowl of milk she acted, her fingerless gloved touching House chest.
"Race home, open the door." Twirling around him, she hopped onto the counter, pushing herself to stand, House eagerly watching, his free hand tracing along her legs in her movements. "Run upstairs, throw my bag on the floor." She kicked her leg gently at his hand, whipping herself around like a true ballerina. "Log on, two seconds later, I get a message from you saying,"
"Hey baby." House called out, his face breaking into a smile as he watched her dance, her feet planted as she rocked her hips around, Wilson saw that style once at a strip club. He glanced around but everyone was still carrying on with their business, no one noticed, no one cared. Only him..
"Been going crazy thinking about you all day, so much to tell you." She bent down to trace her hands along her tights to her hips, her eyes glancing to Wilson's own making his body jerk. Could she see him?
"Boy I feel the same way." She sang lightly, was she singing to him? Was she trying to tell him something? Her head turned back to House, jumping off the counter to get snagged by his arm, pulling her to his side, grinding into his hip.
"Can't wait to see you, just you and I. Cuz everything night I'm thinking what it would be like." Like a snap, she was whipped out, her body stopping on the tips of her toes as she sang, dancing her way back to House who just watched amused.
"I get a rush, more then a crush, almost love! Makes me feel high, every time, I think about us." House snatched her right hand and hip, dipping her back, letting her loose tangles of curls brush into the air. "Even thou we talk every day I still can't get enough." He pulled her back up and she looked up to him, her eyes misty with..god Wilson didn't want to say it. He didn't want to admit it. "I'm not opposed… getting kinda close." She ducked forward, burying her face into House's throat, her arms locking around his neck as she whispered, the answer making Wilsons gut twist in a jealous knot of hate.
"Wake up!" He shouted, he didn't want to dream this anymore. Why was his brain tormenting him? The sight of them was to much, just like the night he found them making lov- no. They were fucking. He would not admit that term nor would he admit wanting to be apart of it. He slapped his own face trying to cause a sting to bring him back to reality.
During his attempts to get out of his new nightmare. He almost didn't hear the soft words before him.
"I was made to believe I'd never love somebody else…"
Wilson glanced up, his hands lowering from his face. Another song? Really? When did the tempo change from a fast pop to a slow ballad? He looked with a beating heart, listening to his best friends voice, House's voice sing out. God, Wilson loved that voice. So deep, so bone melting, he envied Annabelle to have the honor to hear it, to be sang to with it. House's hands trailed down along her back, holding her close, tucking her under his chin but his eyes, those blue orbs that could crush your soul with a glance was staring at him.
House could see him just like Annabelle? House was looking at him differently then before, his smile was gone and his face looked worn, tired. Those eyes were sad but pleading, Wilson could feel him reaching out to him even if he didn't raise his hand. "I made a plan, stay the man who can only love himself."
House tugged her away from his chest to spin her under his arm slowly. "Lonely was the song I sang,' he moved her back, letting her stand before Wilson but over the top of her head, House was looking into Wilson's eyes, his voice was singing to him, to them? "Til the day you came." He let her hand go and he began to back away from them. "Showing me another way and all that my love can bring."
Wilson's feet moved on their own, moving himself next to Annabelle, standing beside her as they both watched him sing, both watched his eyes look upon them both.
"Oh half of my heart's got a grip on the situation," he reached out and before Wilson could moved, Annabelle took that step and snatched his hand, letting House pull her back to his side. "Half my heart takes time." He turned his back to Wilson as he danced with Annabelle making Wilson curl his fingers into a fist. Why? Why did he miss that chance? Why was she always cutting in? Wilson wanted House to hold him, to dance with him. It wasn't fair! "Half of my heart got the right mind to tell you," House stopped his moments, his fingers brushing along her cheek bone almost sadly as he glanced over his shoulder, staring back to his friend. "That I can't keep loving you… with half of my heart…"
Wilson didn't know what came over him. It was an unseeing rope that wrapped around his body and yanked. He moved quickly, his feet hurryingly across the floor. His throat felt like there was something stuck in there, it was crawling out, a ball of air rising to the surface. He needed to be next to House, he had to!
Silence ripped through out the room, everyone seemed to have stop dead in their tracks. Everyone except them. Both House and Annabelle looked at him shocked, their eyes glazed over, a deer caught in head lights. Wilson stood before them panting, his lips trembling at his shout, he felt the bubble come up again, he let the unseen force take control, he didn't want to fight and keep quiet. Moving close, his arm slide between them, his body sliding its way, causing a gap to form all awhile, his lips parted to hear his own voice shockingly begin to sing.
"Whats your name? I think I like you." House leaned back away from him worried but Wilson pressed on, his fingers reaching, curling into House's coat, holding him still. "Come a little closer now." He sang, a coy smile playing his lips. With a glance over his shoulder, his hands trailed down along his friends chest, feeling him stiffen and pause a breath while Wilson watched Annabelle begin to back away. "Hey, what you say. Is that your girlfriend?" Looking back, Wilson snatched his arms and playfully turned him, let House's back face her, to have his full attention on himself. "I'll be turning that around."
He felt…strange, wrong but Wilson liked it. He felt House's breath quicken and felt the pressure of his friends hands touching his hips. This was what he wanted. He watched with a fluttering heart as a smile touched House's face, those wrinkles coming to view that Wilson found beautiful. His House. "Don't cha wanna, don't ya wanna know?" Pushing himself up to the ball's of his feet, he pulled House's coat, pulling him down to let their lips settle only a inch apart as he whispered with as much lust, as much arousal to make House groan with need. He wanted that kiss.
"What it feels like."
With a sudden urge, he yanked House away from everyone, pulling him towards a nearby wall to press up against, letting House's body cover his own. The heat, the feeling. It made Wilson's blood race to his groin and his skin feel like it was on fire. House touched him so tenderly yet rough, it was perfect, it was hot. Tossing his head back, Wilson couldn't stop the bubble from pressing out, making him sing out loud, not caring who heard.
"Lets me friends so we can make-out."
House's body suddenly pushed away. The heat suddenly gone made Wilson hiss in disapproval. House was at an arms length, staring down at him. His lips twisted in… what? Wilson couldn't pin point but he didn't care. He needed House's body again, he needed to be touched, to be kissed. Reaching up, he wrapped his arms around his best friends neck and pulled him down, trying to connect their lips, his voice whispering.
"Your so hot, let me show you around."
House turned his head, letting his lips graze his rough bread. What was he doing? House closed his eyes tightly and grabbed Wilson's wrist, yanking, pulling himself free from their grip. What was he doing? Wilson tried to reach but House let him go and took a step back, his face twisted in hurt, in disgust. What had Wilson done? He tried again, his hands clawing into House's arms even when he tried to pull away.
"I know what I want and I wanna play." He glanced to the side, watching Annabelle covering her mouth in pure horror. What? Could he not have what he wanted? What was so bad? "Everyone knows I'm getting my way! It doesn't matter what you say!"
He was pushed back suddenly. Hitting the wall, he looked up with rage. didn't House see? Didn't he understand that Wilson was finally giving him what he been asking for? House stood there, his head turned away. His body was stiff and still, his hands balled into a fist. Before him Annabelle stood, her arms stretched out.
So she pushed him back. What? She didn't like a challenge? Well that was to bad. Pushing off the wall, he moved to push past her, his voice ripped out. "I'm knocking you down, down down!"
She grabbed his shoulders and it surprised him how strong she seemed to be. She kept him in place. Yanking away from her, he looked to her face and noticed she wasn't looking at him in rage, her body didn't stand ready to fight. No, she looked at him, her face pleading. She shook her head at him, her fingers squeezing. His frown made her let go to hold her hands up. Was she telling him to stay put? Her forefinger and middle finger pointed to her eyes before pointing lower to her chest.
She gave a nod to him before she turned, facing House. She moved so slowly, her hands touching his arms. House closed his eyes jerking away, did Wilson cause this? What did he do? She gave a gentle caresses before her voice came out, her song making House's eyes slowly open.
"Time stops, like everything around me.. is frozen.." She reached up, her hands cupping his face. House's shoulders lowered, letting his head be turned to her, letting his sad eyes gaze into her own. She gave a small smile, her thumbs brushing along his cheekbones. "and nothing matters but these… few moments." Lowering his head, their foreheads pressed, she whispered, causing House's head to tilt and sink, letting himself sag almost boneless against her. "When you open my eyes to things I've never seen."
She turned so Wilson could watch their profiles, watch House's face light up a little more with every word she spoke, what his hands begin to raise to touch her.
"Cause when I'm kissin you my senses come alive. Almost like a puzzle piece I've been trying to find." Her nose brushed his own and Wilson felt his stomach drop when House chuckled, his arms wrapping themselves around her waist. "Fall right into place, you're all that it takes. My doubts fade away when I'm kissin you…"
Her eyes glanced back to Wilson and he felt rooted to the spot. What was she waiting for? Did she want him to watch her win? To win House's heart? To rub the bitter defect into his face. He didn't understand, why did House hold her, touch her.. Why did House love her when she sang but pushed him? Was Wilson that disgusting? Did he wait to long? He didn't understand.
He didn't want to lose House.
He wanted him back, all to himself. He missed the old times, the feeling of knowing House would always call him first, be with him first. Choose him first…
And he messed that up.
His body trembled as tears began to fill his eyes. He did this to himself, and there was nothing left but to admit defeat. Looking back to them both, he took a shaking breath, letting his tears fall, letting his voice speak, letting the need, the loneliness come out. He would bear it all. He won't hide no more.
"I see your blue eyes… Everytime I close mine." Bowing his head, Wilson felt his chest begin to squeeze. His feeling coming out, spilling free. No more holding back, no more.
"You make it hard to see… Where I belong to, when I'm not around you." his arms rose, in utter defeat. "It's like a law to me." Finally he looked up, seeing that the couple looked upon him. Their faces blank. Wilson couldn't see, not through his tears but he didn't care. He wanted House to know. He wanted himself to know. With a sad smile, he reached out to them, the light shining brighter through the windows.
"But I never told you, what I should have said…No I never told you.. I just held it in." Bowing his head, his fingers curling into fist. He brought them back to cover his face, to hold himself through the regret. "And now.."
"I miss everything about you." Opening his eyes, Wilson stared at the floor, his fingers shaking as he tried to dry his cheeks. "Can't believe that I still want you and after all the things we've been through." His voice paused when another hands of hands took his own. His heart skipped a beat, he knew those fingers, that palm. Tilting his head back slowly, he saw House standing over him. His friend was smiling, so bright, so warm. A child waking to piles of gifts on Christmas morning. House held his hands so tenderly, raising them up, pressing Wilson's fingers into his lips, kissing them. He looked past House's body to spot Annabelle standing alone, smiling, waving her hands in an encouragement to go on and that's what he did.
"I miss everything about you, without you…."
House kissed his palms and Wilson couldn't hold back his smile. Was..that it? House just wanted him to tell him how he really felt? An echo in his brain whispered an old saying making his eyes widen on insight. House did not want friends with benefits, no. He wanted Wilson, full on and Wilson finally gave it to him. Letting his hands go, House wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close, tucked him so neatly, tenderly under his chin. It was a dream come true.
And yet, as he melted into those arms and enjoyed the bliss of the new found love, Wilson looked back and watched Annabelle stand there, her composure never breaking but he could see, her sad eyes watching. Suddenly, he felt sad, sad for her. Sad for himself. Someone had to lose in order to win..
This suddenly didn't feel like a victory. No, it felt like a betrayal. She had been there for House when Wilson did not. She gave and asked for nothing, she welcomed, fought for and found love… and then to have House pick Wilson over her, that had to be a blow so hard that one wouldn't be able to stand. Even thou Wilson wanted to win, he forgot the pain she would feel. Reaching down, he took House's hand and felt that warmth that for a split second, he didn't want to let go. He wanted to sink into that heat, to giggle in joy and let House's lips drink him into pleasure. He would love that but not now, not in front of her.
"Hands touch, eye's meet."
Wilson looked up to House whom did the same. House bowed his head and kissed his forehead making his breath shutter, his finger squeeze his forearm tightly. All words he thought, forgotten.
"Sudden silence, sudden heat. Hearts leap in a giddy world…"
Wilson buried his cheek into House's chest, turning to face out to the lobby. There she was still but she was smiling so sadly to them, her hands laced together on her chest.
"He could be that boy…" Her hands lowered to go behind her back, almost childishly. "but I'm not that girl…"
Wilson pressed his lips, she looked so tormented. So hurt. He wanted to hold her but he knew he was the last persons she wanted to touch. If only he didn't open his mouth, if only.
Her fingers snapped in front of his face making him jerk, causing House's arms to grip him tighter. She was sudden in front of him, so close his nose flared at her scent. "Don't dream too far." She told him, her fingers poking his nose. "Don't lose sight of, who you are. Don't forget…" her hand lowered, trailing along House's arm. House didn't flinch, didn't even look to her. It was like he didn't even know she was there.
"Don't you want to remember that rush of joy? He could be that boy…" She let her hand slip away, her fingers trembling in the need to feel him again. "I'm not that girl."
Wilson suddenly reached out to touch her but she pulled away, her hair spilling from it bun to wave around her. She spun away, her arms flinging out, lost in her own memories, in her own world. Her own song. "Every so often, we long to steal. To the land of what might have been." She stopped a few feet away from them, her arms hugging herself tightly. "But that doesn't soften the ache we feel…when reality sets back in…"
She looked back and this time, Wilson saw her tears collecting in her eyes, threatening to spill over. "Blythe smile, lithe limb… You are winsome. You win him."
"Brown hair with a gentle curl." She was quick to wipe that lone tear from her cheek before it touched her lip, trying to keep her brave face on. "You're the one he chose… and heaven knows…. I'm not that girl…"
God, why? Why did getting something he wanted twist his gut so? Oh he knew why, because he was Wilson. The careing, sacrificing friend who would try to solve other peoples problems, to help other before himself. He never wanted to see people sad, see people hurt. He was pitiful. It started to make him wish he never started this whole mess. Made him wish he just woke himself up, it was all a dream right? He should close his eyes and wish it all away.
"Don't wish. Don't start."
Opening his eyes, he looked back, feeling House's fingers brush up along his spine to his hair, combing, stroking gently. Annabelle shook her head back to him, her hand touching her chest, over her beating heart that seemed to beat slower with every fading note to her song. "Wishing only wounds the heart… I wasn't born for the rose and pearl."
Suddenly everything started to go black. Wilson gripped House tighter, his eyes wide. The room was shifting, the wall crumbing away into a black void in which he could not see through. Everyone was disappearing, one by one. He tried to call out to Annabelle to get close, he didn't want her swept away with the others but Housel only buried him tighter into his chest, leaving Wilson helplessly, watching as Annabelle gave a wave goodbye, her body sinking into the cracked marble floor, swallowing her whole .
"There's a boy I know…. He loves him so.. Its okay Wilson."
He buried his face into his friends shirt, not wanting to watch his dream world suddenly collapse. He didn't want to wake up but he did. The only thing he could hear, was her voice echoing into his ear, making him finally slip into the darkness of unconsciousness. One had to lose in order for the other to win.
House picked him because Wilson was the one…
Annabelle was not that girl….