Disclaimer: Don't own House. Never have, never will…
The Intrusion
The room was dark. The blinds drawn, lights off, and door closed. All was silent except the quiet breathing of Dr. James Wilson.
He had been lying there for a while now. The absence of a couch in his office made the floor the only option.
You see, Dr. Wilson had a migraine. He'd been getting them ever since early high school but they hadn't struck in a while.
Suddenly, the peace was interrupted by the familiar rhythm of step, thump, step, thump. Just then, the door handle rattled.
'Damnit' Wilson thought
"Jimmy, come on! Lemme in! " House whined.
'Not on your life…' thought Wilson.
Out of nowhere, House vanished to his office next door.
'This can't end well,' he thought.
Then, out of the corner of his eye, James saw movement on the balcony.
'Oh no,' he pleaded silently, 'Please no!'
"Jimmy you really should consider locking the backdoor too," Said house as he entered the office. "You never know who might bust in."
"I'll try to remember that" replied Wilson, trying to hide a wince from the pain that the sudden abundance of noise caused.
"What's wrong?" asked House, his tone immediately changing.
"Nothing" James replied.
"Yeah, and I'm gonna go outside and run 5 miles" quipped House.
"Ugh! I have a migraine, House," he sputtered. "That's all."
"Bad?" House asked, almost concerned.
"Could be worse," Wilson lied. Truthfully it was the worst he had felt in years.
"What's with the lies, Jimmy? Thinking of becoming a politician?" he joked, trying to brighten the situation.
"House please just go away," Wilson pleaded.
"And what kind of friend would I be then?" asked House with a signature smirk.
"A living one," replied Wilson, frustration evident in his voice.
"Just come here and shut up," said House, grimacing as he painfully made his way down to the floor.
Reluctantly, Wilson scooted over until hid head was resting on House's good thigh.
"Now close your eyes…"
"House, this is stupid…"
"Just do it and shut up."
"Fine," Wilson huffed.
Wilson was then surprised to feel fingers combing through his locks, causing him to tense up. But, then he slowly relaxed into the soothing comfort.
"Jimmy, do you remember how we met?" House asked.
Wilson simply nodded in response.
"I remember you were just moving into the neighborhood and my mother sent me to your house with a stupid plate of brownies…"
But Wilson heard no more. He had drifted off into a slumber with visions of a quirky blue eyed teen and his ever faithful, brown eyed sidekick.