Chapter Text
House was surprised to find Wilson with his back turned to the door when he barged in. His shoulders were shaking and he was holding on tight to the phone – so tight that his knuckles were white. He didn’t say anything, he was just nodding and for a moment, House thought the man was laughing. He stood there in silence, not knowing what to do, he had never seen Wilson like this.
Only when the first sob escaped the man’s body, House realized that something was seriously wrong. The phone was put down and the oncologist hid his face in his hands. The sobs grew louder and more frequent and that was when House slowly turned around, to let the man keep his dignity.
Right before he closed the door, Wilson managed one single word. “Don’t.”
House turned around to see an open, vulnerable man standing there with tears running down his cheeks and a runny nose. House had no idea what to do. Did he hug him, make a Houseian remark? He wanted to do something for the man in front of him. After a few seconds, he stepped closer to him and wrapped his arms around the man’s shoulders. Wilson immediately buried his face into the diagnostician’s shoulder and House could feel the tears soak his shirt, but that didn’t matter. He muttered soothing words, trying to get the man in a calmer state while he waited for an explanation.
After a few minutes of mumbling and rubbing his back, Wilson cleared his throat.
“It’s Danny…” he stuttered, his voice strained as he tried to fight back tears. “He… He was found in a dark alley and…” he took a deep breath. “They asking me to come and identify him.”
House bit his lip again. Why does a doctor not get any training on how to react to things like this? He wanted to say ‘poor Wilson’ or anything else like that, but that sounded so… patronizing. It wasn’t like Wilson was aware of his internal conflict, but still… He felt bad about it. When the oncologist looked up into his eyes, brown meeting blue, tears leaking out of them, House couldn’t help but tear up as well. He had never seen Danny, not even when he had gone to the psychiatric center with Wilson some years ago, and yet he was still tearing up.
“Do you want me to come along?” Was what House settled on in the end, hoping that it was the right thing to say.
A teary smile appeared on Wilson’s face as he nodded. “Thank you, House.”
He mumbled an “Of course” before he wrapped his arms around the oncologist once again. “Let’s get you home so that you can change and then go to the police station, alright?”
Wilson nodded and let the diagnostician lead him out of his office, straight to the elevator. When they got out again downstairs, Cuddy was immediately after them – well, probably House. The last one tried to get eye contact and shake his head while he walked to the door. She only needed one glance at Wilson to back off and let the two of them go. House walked to his bike – a test to see how bad Wilson’s condition was – and handed Wilson a helmet. The man put it on in a daze and got on the bike behind the diagnostician. So this bad, huh? No protest at the bike… House drove him home without causing an accident – he actually followed the traffic rules for once – he couldn’t use a dead Wilson right now.
Once they got there, House helped Wilson off the bike, walked him inside and sent him to the bedroom to get changed. He in turn went to the kitchen to make some coffee, hoping that that would wake Wilson up a bit. When he was done with that, he walked back to the bedroom, only to find Wilson sitting on the bed, staring at the wall, his tie next to him but apart from that still in dressed in the same clothes.
He sighed softly and limped inside. “Wilson, I got you coffee.” When he got no reaction, he tried again. “Wilson. Wil – James. Jimmy?” Now he had the man’s attention. “Coffee.”
He held his hands out for the coffee and House handed it to him, hoping he’d be able to hold it. He was and he sipped it before putting it immediately back down. He looked up at the diagnostician and smiled through his tears.
“It feels so surreal, House, like… like it hasn’t really happened, like this is just a prank… It isn’t, right? I mean, you’ve got nothing to do with this?”
House felt slightly hurt as Wilson asked him that, but he was simply trying to make sense of what had happened, to make sure that everyone around him was innocent. “This wasn’t me, Jimmy. Why would I do such a thing to you?”
The oncologist nodded and looked down ashamed. “Sorry.”
“It’s okay. Now let’s get you changed quickly, alright?” House got up and walked to the closet. He got out neat black trousers, a simple black shirt and handed them to Wilson. “Come on then, these look decent enough.”
Wilson stared at the clothes like they were little alien pups that were endlessly fascinating and at the same time revolting.
House sighed slightly and took the clothes again, put them down next to Wilson and then turned him around, slowly unbuttoning his shirt and taking it off. He had never imagined that he’d be taking the man’s shirt off for the first time in a situation like this. He knew that Wilson would probably not react to any of this right now. He’d be totally embarrassed about this tomorrow, but today… today would be fine. He pulled the shirt over Wilson’s shoulders and buttoned it up. He looked at the total picture. Did he really have to change the man’s trousers? Yes, he did. This was going to be awkward… He stepped closer, into Wilson’s personal space and undid his pants. It wasn’t the first time he had taken off his trousers, but it was the first time he was awake – more or less. He pulled them down, revealing quite good looking legs – he shook his head, not now Greg – and coaxed the man into stepping into the fresh pair of pants.
Once he was fully dressed, House pulled him out of the room – and the house eventually – to bring him to the police station.
This wasn’t going to be easy, House thought. Great, I look forward to it!