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“House! House! Can you hear me?” His eyes drifted open and he could see the concerned face of a man that he recognised but couldn’t quite remember.
“Wilson, what happened?” He heard a woman approaching them, heels clicking quickly on the floor as she rushed to catch up. He recognised the voice, but couldn’t keep his eyes open long enough to see who it was.
”He’s an idiot that’s what,” he heard the man reply, “I found this,” he tried to open his eyes to see what the man had found, “this was prescribed to him yesterday, now it’s empty,” he made out the shape of a pill bottle before his eyes shut again and everything succumbed to the darkness.
————
“House, follow my finger with your eyes,” another man said to him, a black guy dressed in a smart suit, he knew the man but didn’t at the same time. He did as he was told and the man seemed satisfied.
”Can you speak?” A woman asked this time, a pretty brunette came into his line of sight.
”yeah,” he tried to say, but nothing came out.
“Your mouth’s probably just a bit dry,” the man said, “Thirteen’s now getting you some water. The woman came back and he could feel a straw being placed between his lips. He sipped on the water before it was placed on the table next to his bed.
“Can you speak now?” She asked again.
”Yeah,” he muttered, his voice was hoarse but it was there.
“Can you tell me your name?”
He went to speak but he suddenly felt tired, his eyes shut and he could feel himself sinking into a darkness that was soon surrounding him.
”We need a crash cart in here!”
————
When he woke up again it was to a blonde woman staring down at him.
”He’s awake,” she said to someone over her shoulder.
“Good,” he heard, “How are you feeling House?” A short middle aged man came over.
”Alright,” he replied.
”No you’re not,” the woman said, it was weird, he knew that she’s somebody he knows but he couldn’t give her a name.
”Can you tell me what your name is?” The man asked him.
”House,” he answered.
”First name?” He questioned. House thought for a moment, but nothing came to his mind.
”Do you remember who I am?” The woman asked.
”No,” he admitted.
”It’s me, it’s Cameron,” she told him, “and this is Taub.”
”I know, but I don’t know,” he said, “I know that I recognise you but I can’t remember anyone’s names,” he noticed the two doctors looking at each other, concerned expressions on their faces.
————
“How’s he doing Foreman?” He opened his eyes and saw the same man who had brought him in was back.
”There’s a small bleed on his brain, from what we can tell he hit his head when he collapsed, it explains why he can’t remember names. We’re keeping an eye on him but it should sort itself out, if it doesn’t we’ll go in and cauterise it,” he heard the other man, Foreman, say.
”Looks like he’s awake again,” the first man said, coming over to sit next to him, “hey House, it’s Wilson.”
”Wilson,” House repeated, “what happened?”
”You overdosed,” Wilson replied, House could tell he was angry at him, “a whole bottle of Vicodin. Empty. You took a whole bottle of Vicodin House.”
”I was in a lot of pain,” he muttered, remembering back to the feeling he had in his leg mere hours earlier, “and it wasn’t a full bottle, I had been taking some throughout the day, it was probably just over a half.”
”That’s still a lot you idiot!” Wilson yelled.
”I was in a lot of pain!” House yelled back. Wilson looked at him, anger on his face, but that soon changed to a look of concern, “What?”
“Foreman!” Wilson called out. The other man came over, “does his eyes look yellow to you?” House was suddenly blinded by a light shining in his eyes.
”Crap,” Foreman said, “his liver’s failing.”
————
“UNOS won’t let him have one, he’s a drug addict!” He heard a woman arguing.
”You’re the Dean of medicine, isn’t there something you can do?” That was Wilson who was arguing back.
”I can’t break the law and steal an organ because he’s fried his liver!” The woman cried back.
”He’s going to die if you don’t Cuddy!”
“You don’t think I don’t know that, I don’t want him to die but if I do this not only would I got to prison but everyone involved would, this hospital wouldn’t be able to do another transplant again and who is that going to help?” Cuddy replied.
”House! It would help House!” Wilson yelled back.
”Can you guys keep it down? I’m trying to sleep over here,” House grumbled and the two looked over to him.
”Hey how are you?” Cuddy asked, coming over.
”Well I’m dying, so there’s that,” he replied.
”No you’re not,” Wilson said, “I’m going to donate half of my liver.”
”What?” Cuddy asked, “Have you even thought about this?”
“I have a liver, his is crap. I have O- blood, he’s AB+. I’m a universal donor, he’s a universal recipient. It’s a match made in heaven,” Wilson countered.
”You’ll be risking your life,” Cuddy said, “I’m not saying you shouldn’t do it but just think about it first.”
”I don’t think you’ll have much time to think about it,” House said, “I’m about to crash,” the other two doctors looked over to him as his monitor started to beep and the world went dark again.
————
“Good morning sleeping beauty, we’re just getting you prepped for surgery,” he heard a man with an Australian accent say.
”You better not kill me Chase,” House mumbled and Chase stopped.
”You remembered my name,” he said, suddenly.
”So I did, guess my brain’s not bleeding anymore,” he replied.
”Well let’s get your liver fixed then,” Chase told him, before wheeling him off to the OR.
————
When House woke up again he could hear the beeping from various different machines, he opened his eyes, squinting against the bright lights, and looked around the room. He spotted another bed which was holding a sleeping Wilson and smiled to himself as he thought about how his friend had saved his life. After about ten minutes he got bored, he sat up on the edge of his bed and took some shaky steps over to Wilson’s bed.
”Wilson,” He whispered, “Wilson!” He whispered louder, poking the other man in the face.
”What?” Wilson groaned, opening his eyes.
”I’m ordering room service, did you want anything?” He joked. Wilson looked around the room before looking at House.
”From this place? No thanks, I’ve seen the food that they serve.” House laughed at this, sitting on the edge of Wilson’s bed, “you know, you owe me now, I’ve saved your life.”
”And what would I owe you?” House asked.
”Stop taking Vicodin. Go to rehab, get sober and don’t put me into this position again. I’ll just out of organ’s before long,” Wilson replied.
”But the pain is unbearable without it, I just won’t take so many again,” House told him.
”No, you’ll stop taking it all together,” Wilson said, “how about I give you a little incentive.”
”What incentive?” House asked. Wilson sat up on the bed, groaning as he tried to sit forward, “what are you-“ House started, but stopped when Wilson cupped one of his cheeks in his hand, he leant in closer to the oncologist, taking pity on the younger man who was struggling to sit far enough forward. They soon joined in the middle, sharing a slow and passionate kiss, before Wilson backed away.
“We can have something House,” Wilson told him, “but you need to be clean, because I can’t lose you,” House looked into Wilson’s beautiful brown eyes, noticing the tears in them, “I love you,” House felt his breath catch in his throat as Wilson said this, he continued to get lost in the other man’s eyes before he spoke.
”I love you too,” he said, “ok, I’ll do it” he agreed, “I’ll go to rehab,” Wilson took House’s hand in his and smiled at him. House smiled back, imagining what his future would be like once he makes it through rehab and get’s to spend his life with Wilson.