DYING CHANGES NOTHING
Disclaimer : None of the characters that appear here belong to me.
Summary : Set post Dying Changes Everything. This story follows the first two episodes of the fifth season and then veers off before joining the story again.
He thought he had it all figured out – Almost dying changes nothing, dying changes everything. But had he?
Author's note : I know there are a lot of stories out there based on this episode. But the idea wouldn't leave me alone. So, here we are. It's from House's POV. Reviews are much appreciated.
"We're not friends anymore, House. I'm not sure we ever were." – Boy Wonder Oncologist James Wilson.
"Words mean nothing, actions mean nothing, what the hell is left?" – Gregory House.
His head hurt. A lot. Not from cracking his head during the fateful bus accident two months ago, not from the partial complex seizure during the Deep Brain Stimulation, but from what House was famous for – thinking. He thought he had understood and had walked to Wilson's office with the belief that now that he got it, he could fix it. But that belief was shattered, just like he was.
Where had he missed the clues? Where had he gone wrong? For he must have gone wrong somewhere, if this was what a fifteen year old friendship had come to – him sitting on the floor of Wilson's office, after being told that the fifteen year old friendship was in fact, not a friendship. But he shouldn't be surprised, he told himself, twirling the cane in his hand. After all, a 15 year friendship which was worth the same as a few months of dating, was obviously not a shining example of one.
Almost dying changes nothing, dying changes everything. He thought he could explain everything that had happened with that. He felt absolutely sure that that would explain Wilson not bothering to check if he recovered from his coma. It would explain why they hadn't shared a word together until today. And in hindsight, it would explain why Wilson asked him to do the deep brain stimulation. It would explain Wilson wanting him to risk his life to save Amber's. After all, he would just be risking the loss of his life, and worse, his brain.
It was a risk as opposed to a certainty. Almost dying as opposed to dying. House, still upright diagnosing, taking risks, as opposed to Amber, lying unconscious, at risk. It fit. It was the only reason that he could think of that would fit. And armed with that conviction, he had tried to get Wilson to stay. He had no doubt that he could. After all, figuring things out was what he did. And now that he knew the reason, he was confident that Wilson would listen to his apology, believe it and accept it. It would take time, but things would improve. He didn't like the waiting part, but he could handle it because it would mean that things would be okay again. They would be okay.
But no, Wilson said they weren't okay. That they never had been. For all his rationalizations about Wilson's actions, Wilson had found a better reason. One that had completely eluded him. Not a friend as opposed to a girl friend. That fit too, didn't it?
The rational part of his brain screamed that they had been friends, that they had been best friends for more than a decade. Wilson and him out running before his infarction, double dating with Stacy and Wilson's current girlfriend, Wilson taking care of him after the infarction, staying by his side no matter how much he tried to push him away, Wilson going against Vogler for him, lying to Tritter, all the pranks, the lunches, th- how could Wilson deny all that? He had never denied Wilson their friendship. Well, he thought bitterly, he couldn't deny Wilson anything. That much had been painfully obvious. The only reason he had agreed to the DBS risking his life, his mind, everything he was, was because Wilson asked him to, and he was incapable of saying no.
But then, there was this small part of his mind that taunted him with the answer to all the questions that raged in his mind - how could Wilson cast him aside when Amber came along? How could he ask him to risk his life for her? how could the serial carer not care about his fate? How could his response to his cracked head be that they all needed some tea and sympathy? How could he walk away, breaking not only their friendship, but also casting doubts and shadows on everything that they had had? The answer was simple and would explain all that he had failed to do so. The tiny part said since he couldn't explain the reason behind Wilson's deeds, all he had to go on, all he had left to believe was what Wilson said – they had never been friends.
As he rested his head tiredly against the wall, and wished for solitude and some relief, he heard footsteps approaching.