Ok just before we begin I need to lay down a few facts and disclaimers. Part of this story, specifically Suellen's (pronounced Su-Ellen) experience is adapted from Ridley Scott's 1996 film White Squall which was based upon the sinking of the school sailing ship Albatross on May 3rd 1961 where three students, the cook and the skipper's wife drowned. This is my first House fic so I'm yet to get a real feel for writing with the characters just yet, so any support and guidance would be nice. I live in Australia so I'm behind with the Northern Hemisphere's screening schedule therefore there may be a small detail out of place or certain facts omitted from the telling. Lastly, I'm aware that Wilson stated he had no kids in season one, but as this is fan fiction I think I'm entitled to a creative licence and readers wont allow fact to get in the way of fiction. The program House is owned by David Shore and all other respected network owners. Well here goes- read and review!
July
Doctor James Wilson Head of Oncology at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital had a reputation for being a cool, calm and collected character worthy of his position and the respect of his colleges. Never one to raise his voice, showed compassion amidst patients' personal crisis and dealt with medial emergency with the grace of a saint.
He did however, just like everyone else, have certain things that aroused impatience and aggression. So when Doctor Gregory House Head of Diagnostics hobbled into his office for the lunch date he'd peremptorily decided Wilson was taking him on, he immediately knew that Wilson was tackling one of these obstacles.
A phone call from his first wife.
"Yes Martha I understand what you are telling me and I will be there," House took the seat opposite as his friend rubbed his temple with his free hand.
"That's what you said the last time I asked you to take her somewhere and you never arrived," the incredulous voice of Martha King came from the receiver loud enough for House to vaguely hear.
"Look Martha I have a lot to do right now and…"
"Yes I know James, you have patients to console and cancer to cure before home time. I know the story, you've only been telling it to me for sixteen years. You should really find a new excuse because this one is wearing really thin."
"Martha," Wilson's voice rose an octave dangerously and let his feet fall from his desk to the floor with a loud thump. "I will be there all right? Here, I'm writing it down in my diary now," he clicked a pen furiously near the receiver to emphasise his point and slammed his personal planner down in front of him.
House's stubbled face was arranging itself into an amused smile as he took delight in his companion's torture. He'd never been a fan of marriage himself with all the red tape unnecessary fuss. He'd learnt enough from Wilson's experiences of court battles and fighting over household appliances to avoid that venture at all costs.
The infamous doctor had even shared his marital theory with his friend, not that it had done any good.
'Marriage is just like an eel trap-those who are in want out and those outside what in.' A fine philosophy in his opinion.
"Three o'clock this Thursday coming," Wilson began to wrap up the unpleasant call. "I will be there. Tell her I'll see her then ok?"
"You'd better be there James because I won't be here to save you this time and I don't want Suellen to take a cab again."
"She won't have to," Wilson said firmly and after a very short dismissal slammed the phone down onto its holder.
He looked at the black plastic unit for a minute just to make sure his ex-wife was really gone before he let out a loud groan and lent back in his leather chair.
"I divorced the woman fourteen years ago," he moaned piteously rubbing his face and neck. "Why can't she just leave me alone?"
"Why do that when torturing you is so fun?" his friend said in a jovial tone with a sadomasochistic smile.
"Remind me to come to you for sympathy the next time she harasses me about my late child support cheques," Wilson snapped sarcastically then sat upright in his chair again. "Now what did you want? Another mystery case that you want handballed to oncology? Hiding from Cuddy? Got a friendship bracelet from Cameron and you need me to help you pick out the beads for the one you'll make for her? What?"
House lent back in the leather chair and mocked a wounded expression that Wilson didn't fall for in the least. "I can't just come here for some quality friendship time?"
"No never," the younger man rose from his seat and started to sort through some folders, burying the reminder he'd just written to himself.
"What did Martha want?" House knew that his question held no medical relevance or any consequence to him whatsoever but he couldn't deny his curiosity streak.
"You mean other than to ruin my day?" the oncologist didn't bother looking up to respond as he continued to look for some buried piece of information.
"She knows what I'll do to her if she starts moving in on my job," House began to rotate his cane in his right hand, ignoring the pager in his pocket that was demanding he report to the clinic. "I refuse to share."
Wilson rolled his brown eyes at that one. He just loved it when House objectified him like one of his patients. If he ever needed validation he certainly knew who to avoid.
"Martha's going to Boston with her husband and kids this Thursday," Wilson finally relinquished the information House had been ferreting for as he checked that he had enough pens in his coat pocket.
"And this affects you how?"
"Suellen needs a lift to the city Thursday to get the bus that'll take her to the harbour for her cruise or whatever it is," Wilson shuffled a few more things around on his desk until he found his prize, which he pounced upon keenly.
"Suellen's going where?" realising that Wilson was about to leave him alone in his office House pushed down on his cane to get to his feet.
"She's taking a year off school to go on a sailing trip across the Pacific or something or rather," Wilson brushed some of his brown hair out of his eyes and tucked a few manilla folders under arm. "I think there's a brochure around here somewhere about it of you're interested," he gestured carelessly around the room and headed for the door.
"You never told me about that," House hobbled quickly to keep up with Wilson's long strides as they headed for the elevator.
"Why would I?" Wilson hit the ground floor button and House managed to slip in just before the doors closed. "It isn't really important."
"Your daughter is about to leave for an entire year and I don't even a receive a 'My Baby's all Grow Up' speech over a six pack and a box of tissues? What kind of a Dad are you? Never boasting about your kids."
"How did my daughter become your business?" Wilson was getting annoyed now and willed he elevator to move faster. "And I talk about Suellen plenty thankyou."
"Oh?" House strained out the single syllable and lent back on his cane to get a long shot of his companion. "Then why am I the only person in this hospital who's even aware that you have offspring? Everyone else thinks you're sterile."
Wilson rounded on House with an index finger raised in warning, the closest he would ever come to violence.
"Nobody thinks that and other people know Suellen," he stated solidly. "It's just that unlike you I think about my job when I'm at work and not my private life."
"Really?" House asked sceptically as the elevator chimed. "Name one of these 'other people' then."
The elevator doors rolled open and there stood Doctor Lisa Cuddy, fuming in high heels and a low cut outfit, her targets set on a single life for destruction.
"Dr Cuddy," Wilson listed one of the 'other people' smugly and waited for House's just dessert to be served to him.
"House!" the entire foyer knew she was on a search and destroy but her yelling had failed to scare them ever since this House verses Cuddy argument had become an almost daily ritual. "You were supposed to be on clinic duty over an hour ago! Where have you been?"
House had to think fast if he was going to dodge this bullet.
"Consoling Wilson," the lies came off of his tongue naturally absent of guilt and he placed his free had on Wilson's shoulder. "His baby's leaving for overseas Thursday and he couldn't hold back the tears any longer. It's that right?"
"Goodbye," Wilson said cheerfully walking out of House's reach with a triumphant smile and a spring in his step as he listened to Cuddy's yelling at the now closed elevator.
"The tests came back negative for cancer," Wilson said that Thursday in the cafeteria with a protective hand on his bag of potato chips as Gregory House loomed over him.
"Really? Oh well, guess we'll keep on looking. That is to say that if the patient doesn't die in the meantime," House said with unconvincing woe as he lent on his cane and waited for the ample opportunity to seize Wilson's lunch.
"Pull the other one," Wilson didn't bother to hide his disbelief. "You just wanted me to check for cancer so that I'd help you convince Cuddy to approve another one of your strange and expensive testing methods."
House's bright blue eyes twinkled and he allowed his smugness to show with a thin smile.
"I'm starting to think that I need a new best friend," he pulled out an empty seat and sat himself closer to the crisp bag. "One who can't see through my dastardly plans so easily."
"I'm sure that with your marvellous people skills you'll acquire one in no time." House was the one person beside his ex-wives Wilson would allow himself to be openly rude to. Although he knew it was mostly only to get even, he thought perhaps if he performed the mirror effect House would be kinder to others.
He knew it was a false hope.
"Besides you've really let yourself go," Wilson continued with his pompous speech as he ate his lunch with a single utensil being too wary to put down the guard on his chips. "You don't put anywhere near as much thought into your conniving schemes as you used to. Pretty much everyone from Cuddy to me to my fifteen year old kid can see through them."
Before House could supply a witty quip Wilson had dropped his fork and looked at his watch hurriedly. It read a quarter to three.
"Shit," he cursed and knocking the chair over ran out of the cafeteria cursing between muttering, "car keys, car keys!"
House watched him go with great amusement and once it was clear he wouldn't be returning, grabbed the discarded bag of chips and made himself comfortable in the plastic seat.
The couple at the table over staring at the door Wilson had just run through with shocked expressions caught his eye. To hear James Wilson swear was like hearing a saint swear, or House apologising.
"Yea I know," the diagnostics department leader said through a mouthful of chips. "Guess he's not sterile after all."
A loud car horn caught Suellen Wilson's attention as she loaded her luggage into the boot of a neighbour's car, brushing her short dark blonde hair out of her eyes to peer through the windshield of the oncoming car.
"Is that your Father?" a man of around fifty asked holding a knapsack up for her to grab.
"Yea," the teen said unemotionally and headed for the car now pulling up to the curb.
James Wilson sprung from the car after untangling his arm from the seatbelt with great haste to meet his daughter half way across the lawn, careful to avoid the garden gnomes.
"It's ok Dad," Suellen said neutrally as she came to a halt. "Allen said he'd take me to the bus station. You can go back to work."
Wilson came to a stop in front of her and clasped her arms as a gesture of reassurance. "No, no, it's ok, sorry I'm late," he said quickly before stepping around her and hurried up the drive.
Hands deep in her cargo shorts Suellen watched as her father apologised profusely to her neighbour and pulled her bags from his car boot. Still expecting an overdue growth spurt Suellen stood a little below her father's shoulder with a lithely thin frame and dirty blonde hair cropped just under her chin. Her warm brown eyes were the only physical characteristic that gave her father's identity away.
"Sorry I'm late," Wilson gushed as he popped the boot and threw the bags in one after another. "I got held up at work. Quick hop in and we can make it in plenty of time!"
Suellen sighed and obediently sat in the driver's side of the European designed car. The air conditioning evaporated the sweat the summer afternoon had created on her skin and sent a small chill through her. They pulled away from the curb and Suellen waved to her neighbour as they cruised out of the street. She would have to send him a postcard to say thanks.
In all honesty she didn't know why her mother had bothered to call her father in the first place. She'd been perfectly settled with getting a lift with Simon like his parents had offered. However when she'd suggested this over her mother's idea that James should take her to the bus station it had only caused an argument she couldn't win.
Martha had been hung up on the crazy notion that she and her father should see each other again before she set off. Suellen really couldn't fathom why as in her entire history she could only recall her father being reliable for one thing- being unreliable.
It took Suellen a moment to realise that he was speaking to her and she turned away from the window with a clueless expression.
"Hmm? Sorry what were you saying?" she apologised and listened intently for the repetition.
"I said do you think it's a good idea to be skipping a year of school for a fishing trip? It could really effect your high school prospects if they know you had a gap year," Wilson asked as he flicked the indicator and mentally planned his exit from the housing estate.
"I'm not having a gap year," Suellen had been over this subject with her mother several times already. "The Albatross is a school sailing ship. I'll complete a ninth year equivalent on board and it is not a fishing trip. It's an education program."
Wilson let out a snort of scepticism as he pulled out onto a main road en route to the freeway. "Education? What's sort of an education do you plan to get in the South Pacific? It sounds like an expensive holiday to me."
"A cultural education," the girl replied impatiently, "and we're going to the Caribbean. Besides I'll be back at the end of the year for mid year exams and if I fail those I wont be allowed back on the ship for the remainder of the voyage."
"I thought this thing went for a year," Wilson's brow furrowed with confusion and turned to his daughter for a second before focusing his attention back on he road.
"We set sail from the harbour tomorrow, sail for six months, return for two weeks in December then go back out until next June. You know this. We've gone through it three times already," Suellen was tense but she explained it as calmly as she possibly could.
"When did we talk about it?" Wilson's voice was purely clueless as he overtook the car in front. " I don't remember that."
"I spoke about it with you four times!" Suellen cried and shook her hands to emphasise her frustration. "Two of them were before I'd even committed to it! And as I recall you did have to sign all those permission forms before I could get accepted. Didn't you read any of that stuff?"
"Of course I did," he snapped back sternly to settle her down.
That part was a lie since he'd actually just signed his name where it had been indicated on the forms Suellen had left on his desk and had picked up a week later.
The silence stretched into minutes and continued increasing until Suellen began to tinker with the car's radio to find some music.
"So are you excited?" Wilson made an attempt at conversation. In recent years conversation had become increasingly infrequent between the two of them so starting one was not without difficulty.
"Yea should be good," she replied in a brighter tone and sat back in her seat once satisfied with the radio station. "The skipper's wife rang a few times just to make sure I was still comfortable with going and assured me that I'll be well looked after and a great time and all that stuff. There's only one other girl coming on this trip so she wanted to make sure I could handle myself with twelve teenage boys."
Wilson blinked with surprise at that last part and turned to look at her once they'd stopped at a red light. "Do you think you can handle it?" he asked somewhat concerned.
Suellen shrugged and smiled confidently at his expression. "I just told her that after everything Alexander's thrown at me nothing could surprise me. Simon's coming too so I think it should work out fine."
"Do I know Simon?" Wilson asked as he eased on the accelerator and took the turn off for the city.
"I should think so," Suellen was annoyed again, he could tell by the sound of her voice. "We've only been hanging around each other since we were four. You know, tall gangly kid with blonde hair and wear glasses?"
"Oh yes," he said slowly as his memory recollected an image of the boy just described. "I remember now, nice kid."
After that very little was said between the two, as often was the case when they spoke. Wilson knew that most fathers went through a rough patch with their children as they progressed into their teens and developed a poor attitude towards authority figures. However he sensed that there was more that just than that causing the friction between he and Suellen.
Every divorced parent had a unique relationship with his or her kids, some constantly demanding more access hours, others having more for a casual friendship with their son or daughter and then there were some who disappeared from the parenting scene completely.
Wilson felt that he didn't totally fall into any of those three categories cleanly as he rarely showed up for his delegated visiting times, just often enough to make the rare cameo appearance. He also got the distinct impression Suellen didn't consider him as a friend, still her father but not a favourable one.
The oncologist had so little experience on the parenting scene that when asked at a research function or by a patient he claimed not to have children. Wilson had told House it was a way to compartment his personal and working life separately but he wondered if he really hid Suellen to cover his lack of parenting passion or to evade questions about his daughter that he honestly didn't know the answers to.
So that's how things were at that point in time, Suellen a fifteen-year-old failing chemistry and Wilson approaching forty and divorce number three. The title 'Dad' was almost foreign and one he'd never responded to out of habit. His excuse had always been work and "something's just come up" but he sensed Suellen never really meant it when she said, "it's fine."
"That must be the one," Suellen said and pointed out the window to a mini bus parked outside the bus station as they drove past. "Oh yes, I can see Simon's dad."
"Ok let's find a park," Wilson was glad to have made it on time and scanned the parking lot for an empty spot. He didn't manage to find one close to the building so Suellen scurried off to get a trolley for her luggage to save themselves the strain.
Wilson opened the boot and rested against the bumper bar as Suellen headed towards the building, her blonde hair easily spotted against the Summer's azure sky. He loosened his tie and unbuttoned his sleeves so he could roll them up. He'd spent so much time in the hospital's air-conditioned building that he'd forgotten how hot outside had been recently.
Checking his phone he saw there were two missed calls from Julie and a text message from House instructing Wilson to prescribe him more Vicodin when he returned from "playing Daddy."
Wilson rolled his eyes when he saw that on screen and decided to postpone listening to the angry voicemail his wife had left until later. He found the idea of him "playing Daddy" as House described it almost humourous as Martha had once brutally pointed out during a telephone argument that Suellen's stepfather Bill had in actual fact spent more time with his daughter in her lifetime than he had.
An approaching rumbling diverted his attention away from his cell phone to his only child racing across the car park pushing an aluminium trolley as the teen he assumed to be Simon stood on it in surfer stance. Suellen took the corners sharply in an attempt to jostle him but only received laughter and sniggering comments.
"Hi Mr Wilson," Simon held up one of his long arms in greeting as he wore an exhilarated smile. Wilson, besides being amused that someone still called him Mister and not Doctor, thought of Suellen's friend as a puppy. Large and lengthy limbs that the rest of his body was yet to grow into.
Wilson also noticed the fact that Suellen smiled brighter as she loaded the trolley with her best friend than she had at him when he'd arrived. Actually, now that he thought about it he couldn't recall if she'd had smiled at while in his presence this afternoon.
She spoke to Simon with more passion and enthusiasm than with him he noted too as they headed to the parked mini bus with Wilson following behind feeling slightly neglected.
After briefly shaking hands with Simon's parents Wilson stood on the curb beside the mini bus as the driver closed the storage compartment and Simon rolled the trolley back to its holding bay. There were only three other people inside the bus, waiting patiently for its departure. Two boys and one girl a few years Suellen's senior.
"All aboard," the driver called and he pulled his obese figure up the steps to make the last trip of the day and sounding very pleased about it.
Simon's mother and father made a scene of sending their son off with hugs and advice as his four-year-old sister pulled at his surf shorts for attention. It was assumed that the parents of the other teenagers had already said their goodbyes and left.
James and Suellen meanwhile weren't so sure what they should be doing just then. Should they be putting on a show like in Simon's case or should Suellen of just climbed on board and sat amongst the others already in the bus.
"Well goodbye then," the daughter was the one to break the pregnant pause with a half smile and some shrugging.
"Have a good time," her father said and dared a hug.
Suellen didn't deny the embrace, stepping into in compliantly but the hold lacked any emotion and felt awkward. She only wrapped her arms around Wilson's back loosely and he patted hers with a touch of boredom. It was like when a child attempts to make a Ken and Barbie doll hug- performed with the limbs rigid and their minds elsewhere.
"Ok I'll send you a postcard," Suellen promised distractedly and after a quick goodbye to Simon's family, followed him onto the bus not bothering to look out the window again after she took a seat.
"Hard to believe they're fifteen already isn't it?" Simon's father asked from behind as the smell of exhaust filled their nostrils and the bus revved its engine. "It's like they don't even need us any more."
As the bus rolled out of its parking space and towards the open roads Simon ran to the back of the bus to wave to the assortment of people left behind. Suellen instead could be seen moving around extending her hand in introduction before laughing at a joke one of her new companions made.
"Yea it sure is," Wilson replied absently watching the bus taking his daughter to the harbour joined the traffic and travelled down the road until it was blocked from sight by the other parked buses.
December
The hot air pouring out of the heating system in the boardroom would have lulled Wilson into a pleasant sleep had he not been an active participant in the current debate between the Organ Transplant Committee. At that moment he was patriotically supporting House's proposal to provide his latest patient with a new kidney while representatives from three other departments rebutted his point with House's numerous past offences.
Cuddy sat at the head of the table supporting her chin with one hand as she watched the medical experts battle it out attentively. As always the final decision would be hers and she would have to base that decision on the arguments presented by her colleges here, not House's gut instinct.
Wilson was mid way through arguing the last unflattering remark about his friend's work ethics with hands raised in emphasise when the man of the hour came through the door himself, his blue eyes scanning over the room quickly.
"Doctor House you are not permitted to sit in on this meeting," Cuddy protested as she rose out of her seat. The entire discussion had come to halt by the sudden entrance and all eyes were on the imposter.
"You need to see this," House seemed oblivious to everyone else in he room and limped his way to Wilson as fast as he could, a newspaper tucked under one arm.
"House can't this wait?" Wilson made it clear he was annoyed for having lost his train of thought.
"Doctor House I'm going to have to ask you to leave," there was no tolerance in Cuddy's voice and the rest of the Transplant Committee awaited the impending fallout.
House ignored her and dumped the newspaper in front of Wilson. His face was hard and the urgency written in his eyes subdued any more protest from Wilson. House not rising to Cuddy's protests sent alarm bells ringing in his mind. Realising the gravity of the situation the oncologist looked down at the paper thrust in front of him.
"School Sailing Ship Albatross Sinks," the headline screamed up at him. "Six Reported Drowned."
Those two sentences stopped Wilson's brain from functioning instantly. A coldness swept through him that deprived his body of the room's warmth and the colour drained from his face immediately. A cold sweat appeared on the back of his neck and he was unable to swallow, a terrible dread shutting his body down.
Noticing the chilling change the other doctors gave each other questioning looks to seek out the answer and their disgruntlement forgotten. This reaction was uncharacteristic of James Wilson. Something terrible must have happened.
"Is everything all right Doctor Wilson?" Cuddy asked trying to restore order.
"I've called the Harbour Guard all ready," House ignored her and focused entirely on his friend. "A Russian liner on it's way to New Jersey picked them up last night and is expected to dock in a couple of hours. They wouldn't release the names of the dead, said they had to wait for something official first."
That was enough to snap Wilson from his trance, suddenly able to move again. He shot to his feet breathing deeply, hands shaking before running out of the room. The meeting, his job, his shambled marriage and House all forgotten.
Only one thing mattered now. Getting to the harbour.