"Life and Limb"
Chapter One-"Getting a Leg Up"
By: Purpleu
"Here you go, gentleman," the waitress said as she placed two bottles of Heineken on the table. "Do you need some more time, or are you ready to order?"
"We're going to start with some appetizers and work our way up to a pizza," House said. "Let's have an order of garlic bread with cheese, mozzarella sticks, chicken wings and…" He looked at Wilson. "You want the fried calamari?"
"Why not? Don't see how we'll manage a pizza with all we're ordering, but it sounds good," Wilson replied looking up at the waitress.
"How do you want the wings, mild or hot?"
"Hot," House answered before Wilson could say a thing.
"OK, I'll put this order in for you and leave the menus in case you have room for that pizza," the waitress said with a smile. "I'll be back in a little bit."
"You know, I think I'm going to wish you ordered those wings up as mild," Wilson said. "I swear I'm getting an ulcer."
"I wouldn't be surprised if you were born with an ulcer," House replied after taking a swig of his beer." Job starting to get to you, or is there trouble on the almost home front?" Wilson made a face.
"There is no trouble with me and Annie, that's for sure. We've started to move a few things that she was keeping in the storage area over to my place. The thing that made me feel really good, is she brought over a box that contained old family photos. The fact that she…felt comfortable enough to bring over something that important to her…I was really happy," said Wilson with a laugh.
"So sharing an office with the Dark Knight is finally getting to you?"
"No, I'm doing more and more of the work from my office up by you. And we get along just fine. Foreman gets a little intense when he feels things aren't going the way he wants, but…the problem is…I want to resign from the co-Dean position" Wilson started peeling the label off his bottle. "I'm a doctor who enjoys working with his patients no matter how difficult that may sometimes be. I don't want to do meetings and reports and all the other things that go with being an administrator."
"When are you planning on dropping this bombshell?" asked House. "Or should I just watch for Foreman to start licking his lips?" The waitress came by with plates, napkins, and their garlic bread.
"The rest will be out in just a few minutes," she said.
"Thanks," replied Wilson. He looked around the restaurant. Gino's was a rustic looking pizzeria with wooden booths in a separate area from tables with red and white cloths on them. "I can't believe we've never been in this place before," he said as he took a piece of the bread. "It's a little out of the way, but definitely worth the trip. We should bring Annie, Lydia and the kids here." House nodded as he took a drink of his beer.
"Any place that has old-fashioned pinball machines, Pac-Man, Asteroids, and the original Donkey Kong," he said referring to the game room off to the left of the main dining area, "Is good with me." Grabbing a slice of garlic bread, House returned the conversation to Wilson's decision to step down as co-Dean. "You know the board will try to talk you out of leaving. They are taking their sweet ass time picking a new Cuddy; and a push to make them spend less time with three cocktail lunches and more doing their jobs will not be well received."
"I only took the position to keep my mind occupied when you were in the coma. I wanted to deal with death from a distance, at that point, not with my regular patients. Until we knew you were going to be OK…I had trouble handling medicine up close and personal. I welcomed the paperwork and meetings." Wilson took a long drink of beer and stared down at the table.
"It also gave you less time to think about my situation and hang out in my room, waiting for me to twitch," House noted.
"I slept in your room the first three nights after we put you in the coma," Wilson said. "I only went home to sleep after Thirteen and Chase said they'd take turns staying with you overnight."
"Here you go." The waitress had returned to the booth with the wings, mozzarella sticks and calamari. She reached into the pocket of her apron and pulled out forks and knives. "Do you need anything else? Another round?" House looked at his bottle.
"I don't usually suck them down that quickly, but don't go too far away," he said.
"I'll be nearby; just call me if you need me." She walked away as House looked over at Wilson.
"I had no idea I had company while I was hallucinating; I hope I didn't talk in my sleep."
"Come on, don't be so surprised. You'd do the same for me if the tables were turned."
"Only if the bed next to you was empty and the TV still paid for," House said. Wilson shook his head.
"If you say so," he said taking a wing. Wilson was quiet for a moment, thinking about the subject of his resigning. "We just ended a fiscal quarter; our fiscal year ends June thirtieth. I don't think I could hold out until year-end closing, but if I tell Foreman this week and the Board of Directors next week…everyone should have enough time to adjust and do something about the situation."
"So you want out ASAP, but June is the drop dead date," House said. "Hopefully Lydia will have worked enough magic by then to convince them to give her the job."
"Don't you think she ought to be asked if she wants the position? If things could be worked out, I would think she'd rather go to medical school with that special program the college offers. Lydia's waited a long time for the opportunity," said Wilson.
"There's no reason she can't do both," House said snagging a calamari ring. "She has a support network that can't fail. Between you, Annie, Tom, Marianne, Slick and my team, who she seems to have eating out of her hand," he said with a touch of jealousy, "There's not one of you who wouldn't help her." Wilson shot him a look.
"I noticed your name was absent from that list." House shrugged.
"It's my job to handle the more intimate issues of her life," House said with a smile. "I'll leave the mundane, everyday stuff to the rest of you."
"Don't even bring up the subject of intimate issues," Wilson said with a sigh.
"Annie's been down in Philly a little over twenty-four hours and you're already pining for her? You do realize you're pathetic," said House.
"I'm not pathetic. You mean to tell me that if Lydia had to go away for…say a medical conference, you wouldn't miss her?" Wilson asked.
"If she went away on a medical conference, I'd go with her as a personal bodyguard. I know how those conferences can be." Wilson laughed.
"Yeah, they almost always had their interesting moment," he said. "You ready for another beer?" House looked at his almost empty bottle as he grabbed a mozzarella stick.
"Sure; it's your turn to be the designated driver."
"You shouldn't really be having anything considering the medications Tom has put you on. How are they working? Still easing things up a bit?" House grimaced as he leaned against the wall of the booth and swung his right leg up onto the bench.
"If Tom wanted me to feel better, he should have held back on the Edgar Allen Poe version of what happened to my leg. I liked it better when I didn't know." Wilson was dreading this conversation. Tom had told him, Annie, House and Lydia about the info that was in House's medical chart two weeks ago; this was the first time they'd had the chance to be alone to talk about it. Wilson signaled to the waitress; they both were going to need more beer for this.
"Another round?"
"Yeah, we're ready," Wilson said.
"What about that pizza? You know, we have a ten-inch pie that would be like two of our individual pies put together."
"How do you know it's ten inches?" inquired House with a slight smile. The waitress hesitated before she responded.
"We've…we've measured it. I'll be right back with your beer." Wilson looked over at House. Despite him joking with the waitress, there was a sadness in his friend's eyes that hadn't been there much since Lydia showed up on the scene. Wilson wasn't even sure she could do much to help with this.
"House, I…I can't believe you never looked in your own medical file. You have the most insatiable curiosity of anyone on this planet; why didn't you look? You were supposed to have a small amount of necrotic tissue taken out; instead they removed, as you put it, something the size of your fist. You…of all people, knew you shouldn't be in the kind of pain you were in. Didn't you want to know why?"
"Here's round two," the waitress said, bringing the fresh beers.
"Want to order the pizza?" House asked without much enthusiasm. Wilson swore he was avoiding his last question.
"Sure; you can always take the leftovers home," Wilson said.
"If the kids will actually leave anything in there for me to eat," he said frowning.
"Oh, you have children?" inquired the waitress.
"Actually, they're my step-girlfriend's kids," House said sarcastically. Seeing the look of confusion on the girl's face, he simply went ahead and ordered the pizza. "We'll take the full-size pie…what do you want on it?" House asked Wilson.
"Oh, I get a choice this time? How about extra cheese and…do you have a meat lover's pie?"
"Yes, we do. So that's a large meat lover's pie with extra cheese. Anything else?"
"I think we've done enough damage with what we've ordered so far," said House.
"OK, I'll give this to the kitchen." Both House and Wilson were quiet for a bit, each working on finishing up their first beer. Wilson wanted to continue the discussion, but didn't know what to say. He knew House had been depressed, out of sorts since finding out the circumstances behind his leg operation. Wilson was surprised he agreed to come out tonight. If he didn't know better, Wilson would think House wanted to talk…
"When you take too deep of a look at yourself, physically or otherwise," House began, sparing Wilson the need to initiate conversation, "You see things you don't want to know, things that you can't do anything about. And if you can't do anything about them, why let them eat you up; why sit and stew over your failure to overcome your flaws? I tried to avoid doing that, and I failed miserably. I pushed away everyone around me, and the few that stayed, I put through hell. Now, with this new development, I don't see anything but a repeat performance." Wilson assumed House was making a comparison between Stacy and Lydia. Wilson knew that House regarded Lydia as his last chance to get a relationship right. For his own sake with Annie, Wilson hoped that House and Lydia could get through this together. She was amazingly patient with House, but everyone has their limits.
"I wouldn't call what happen with your leg a failure or a flaw; honestly, I'd call it an assault," Wilson declared.
"No, the real assault came when the people around me wrote me off as a drug addict," House said angrily, shooting a look at Wilson. "Which is one of the reasons I pushed them away."
"House, how many times did I find you lying in vomit, drugged and/or drunk out of your mind? What was I supposed to think?"
"You could have taken your head out of the foggy cloud of rumors and innuendo, and gone by what you knew about me. Yeah, I liked to party; you weren't innocent of that yourself. Maybe just once, you could've asked me if I wanted to talk about it. My leg, the pain…my childhood." Wilson nearly choked on the drink of beer he took.
"Talk about it? You? You're not exactly known for having serious, sincere discussions. House." Slowly peeling the label off his bottle, House was quiet for a moment.
"What do you call what we're doing right now?" he asked looking over at Wilson. "I wanted to talk about it with you for years…I needed you to pull it out of me like Lydia does. She's done it so well, that I don't always need her to bring things up; I can now start discussions myself." Wilson put his hand to his forehead and closed his eyes. House actually wanted to talk? OK, but Wilson wasn't so sure he wanted to. He needed to explain to House why he hadn't initiated a discussion with him sooner. Well, he thought…here goes nothing.
"I don't do very well with discussing people's pain and emotional discomfort," Wilson began. "I know, I know…that sounds strange coming from someone who deals with it in spades. My patients are people that for the most part, walk in the door and leave; more often than not, in a body bag. You don't have to deal with that…you're the wizard who makes everyone better and sends them on their way." Wilson reached over and picked up a mozzarella stick. "I never asked you about your leg or the pain because I knew you would blame me for not being there when it happened, not riding in like a…white knight and help save you from the situation. You figured you had a best friend, which you didn't have in your youth, and it was my job to get you through it. But I couldn't; I couldn't stand seeing you in pain. I can deal with my patients' suffering…not my friend's."
"Your only friend," House noted. "What I never understood is why the need to be the Bobsey twins? Why were we joined at the hip? I got the whole thing about your psycho brother, but you had a spare, a straight arrow just like you…why invest so much time with the societal pariah?" House was surprised at Wilson's reaction; he looked like he wanted to cry.
"There was a family friend, when I was growing up; Jack. He was…a lot of fun to hang out with, loved math and science, baseball. My brothers and I adored him." House had his head resting against the wall of the booth; he turned to look at Wilson.
"From the way you're rolling that mozzarella stick between your fingers, I think I can tell where this is going." Wilson dropped the piece of food onto his dish, and wiped his hands on a napkin.
"You don't know the whole story," Wilson said quietly, staring down at the table. "One day, when I was fifteen, I came home from school upset because this girl I really liked led me on. She used me to get to my friend. So, when I came home, I ranted and raved to my parents how I was done with girls, never wanted to bother with them again…"
"Boy, how time changed things," quipped House. He was going to go on, but he could see Wilson was upset.
"Jack was there and heard what I said. He invited me to his house that night to pick up some science books. Everything was great until the subject of my girl problems came up, and…he…he made a move on me, said I didn't need girls when I could have him. I pushed him away and told him to leave me alone and go to hell. I got out of there and ran home." Wilson grabbed his beer and took a drink, trying to regain his composure.
"Did your parents believe you when you told them?" House asked. Wilson shook his head.
"I never told them. I…I hoped it was a one-time thing, a misguided attempt at comfort on his part. Maybe he was drunk, I told myself or had smoked one of his 'herbal cigarettes.' But, when I told him no, he went after my brothers. I found out a year later, when they finally told my parents. Of course, all hell broke loose, and they wondered why Jack didn't go after me. I admitted that he did, but didn't tell. I can't even describe the reactions everyone had: anger, confusion, hurt. The worst was the constant question of why. Why didn't I say something? Why didn't I protect my brothers?" Wilson slammed his fist down on the table. "I didn't know that was my responsibility!" He took a couple of deep breaths.
"So, the one brother probably had PTSD from the abuse, on top of schizophrenia. Given that home held too many bad memories, life on the streets must have looked like a stay at the Waldorf Astoria," House said looking at his beer. "I had the impression the other one was fairly successful, suit and tie type; a lawyer or accountant with a family."
"He is," Wilson said. "And he blames me for what happened to him and my parents for being friends with someone like Jack. He just decided to reject all of us, put distance between himself and any reminder of what happened. He doesn't talk to any of us. He's blocked my e-mail and any access to Facebook." Wilson let out a sigh. "When you told me that you had gone through abuse as a kid…I kept waiting for you to add on the kind my brothers went through and…" Wilson looked at House. "I don't think I could have handled it if you suffered the same as they did. I couldn't…imagine you going through that. It was selfish on my part, but rather than let you talk about what you went through, I dismissed it so I wouldn't have to hear it," Wilson looked up at House. "I'm sorry…for this, and I suppose for many other things that you could think of, I haven't been a very good friend." House glanced over at Wilson and saw that there were tears rolling down his cheeks. It didn't make him very comfortable, but he did feel sorry for Wilson.
"Let's start with the fact that no one has ever touched my dinklehoffer without my consent; either given prior, or rapidly agreed to once things were set in motion. Next: Why the hell didn't you tell me this sooner? Granted, it's not a topic you'd find trending on Twitter…but friends should be able to deal with each other's nasty stuff."
"Because I didn't want to think of you going through any more than you already told me. House, you've been my best friend for over twenty years…and despite what you think, I've had other friends throughout the years. But you're the only one who's been there constantly. I know you don't want to hear this, but until they invent another word or phrase…you're my friend and I love you. And that's why I couldn't deal with finding out the full extent of the abuse you went through, any more than I can deal with thinking about what those bastards did to Annie." House started to peel the label on his bottle again. He paused for a bit to let Wilson get his act together.
"I don't think I have to tell you that 'I love you' doesn't come very easily to me, even when I'm talking to people I give a damn about. Don't ever expect to hear those words out of my mouth," House said looking away from Wilson, "But know that they apply to you." Wilson managed a smile and picked up a napkin to wipe away his tears from before.
"That is probably the best I'll ever get out of you…and I'll take it. So, are we OK?" Wilson asked. House nodded.
"We'll have to be; here comes the pizza." The waitress came over and placed the pie on a serving stand near the booth.
"Let me clear away some of these to make room," the waitress said. She gathered up the calamari and chicken wing plates. "Can I put these all on one plate? Or do you want me to bag them up?"
"I think we can bag them up," Wilson said, looking at House who nodded.
"OK. Should I keep a box at the ready to pack up most of the pizza?" asked the waitress looking at House with a smile.
"Nah. My nickname is 'The Human Garbage Pail.' Not to imply that anything you serve here is garbage." He glanced at the pizza, which looked delicious. "Give us a little bit, and I think you'll be amazed." The waitress nodded her head.
"If your nickname is 'Garbage Pail,' what's your real name?" House began to feel uncomfortable. A little flirting was one thing. He and Lydia agreed as long as it didn't cross the line into physical or emotional attachment, checking out what else is out there is part of human nature. But he had the feeling the waitress thought he was kidding about the "step-girlfriend" and the kids.
"House…and my girlfriend's name is Lydia. The kids' names are Ben and Elise." She shook her head.
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"
"Don't worry about it; I don't mind the compliment." She smiled, then looked at Wilson.
"I suppose you have kids and a girlfriend, too." Wilson smiled.
"Just the girlfriend." The waitress sighed.
"The nice guys are always taken," she said with a laugh. "Enjoy your pizza." She walked away with the extra food to be packaged up. House and Wilson each attacked the pizza, pulling slices off for themselves. One would think neither one had eaten all day with the way they dove into the loaded slices.
"Good pizza," Wilson said. House didn't respond; he was thinking over what Wilson told him.
"Does Annie know?" Wilson looked startled that they were returning to the prior conversation.
"Yeah, I told her. She had asked me several times why, since we were such good friends, hadn't I bothered to find out more about what you had been through and why I didn't seem to believe you. That's when I told her what happened to my brothers."
"And you," House said quickly. "Don't know what the laws were back then, but since Funny Uncle Jack had molested you, too, his ass would be in jail."
"His ass is six feet under," Wilson responded. "I'll…I'll take that. What else can I do?"
"Talk to someone. You always pushed me to talk to someone other than you and Cuddy. Find someone you can unload on and get rid of some of that guilt that I know you carry oh, so well." Wilson watched as House worked on finishing off his slice of pizza.
"This is coming from the guy that turned Mayfield upside down and has less than kind things to say about Dr. Nolan? Not that I'm a fan of Nolan by any means, but…"
"It was just a suggestion," House said as he wiped his mouth with a napkin.
"I have Annie I can talk to about it. I couldn't tell any of my ex-wives, so it's a good sign that we can be that open with each other. And…I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but now at least you know why it seemed like I wasn't there for you."
"You weren't" House said looking up at Wilson, "But, I get it." Wilson nodded.
"I hope…that you feel now you can talk with me about your leg, the pain….or anything else."
"I'll deal with my leg," House said, going for a second slice. "It doesn't matter who did it or why, I have to live with the results. No point in sitting around wondering who tipped the scale with their complaint…and I know that's what you've been doing ever since Tom told us the scoop." House took a bite of the new slice. "Don't even bother trying to deny that you've been loading coal into the hopper of the Guilt Train."
"House, I filed three complaints…"
"At the same time I recommended criminal charges. Don't know which one trumps the other. I'll have to ask Ben if there are rules on that in any of those new poker games we've been playing." House looked up and saw Wilson laughing; smiles always made House more comfortable than tears. "Do me a favor…drop it. Can't be bothered wasting time on that right now." Wilson nodded in agreement.
"The topic is off the table," Wilson said. "It sounds like things are still going well for you with the kids? And Lydia?"
"You live right downstairs from us half the time. Do you hear any sounds of domestic discord?"
"No, but you interact with them in places other than home," Wilson pointed out.
"We're fine, Dr. Phil. Thanks for the concern." House leaned his head back against the wall and started to rub his leg. "I'm just trying to interpret and clarify two things that happened recently." House took a drink and worked on removing the rest of the label from the bottle. "Elise and I dropped Ben at soccer practice. We went to the stores; while I was looking around for the things we needed, she wandered away. I started calling her name, when this old lady comes up and asks me what's wrong. I tell her I can't find my daughter."
"WHOA! Not even stepdaughter? Daughter?" Wilson asked. House nodded.
"When she came back, I made it very clear, very calmly, that what she did was a no-no. There was no yelling, no tears."
"That's great," Wilson said. "You handled it perfectly." House shook his head.
"What came into my head was, 'It's been drilled into your little brain to stay with the adult you're with or didn't you understand what that means? And are you too stupid to figure out that if I lost you, your mother would kill me and never speak to me again?' It would have made for a very awkward date night that weekend." House took a drink of his beer. "That was my father talking."
"But you didn't say it out loud," Wilson pointed out. "You tempered your response to something far more appropriate and reasonable than what your father would say." House shrugged.
"And when the time comes that I don't edit my commentary? If something like that happens when I'm tired or my leg is killing me and I lash out at one of them? Then I'm no better than their dirtbag father. Which brings me to the other thing that has me more than a little uncomfortable. I headed into bed a little early the other night because Tom had worked me hard that day. The kids were still up, reading with Lydia in Ben's room. After they were done, they were talking…they asked her when they could start calling me 'Dad'…or 'Daddy' in Elise's case." Wilson's opened mouth response quickly changed to a smile.
"House…this is fantastic! You were worried from day one that the kids were going to hate you or something. This…this…"
"This will last as long as I don't screw up. But with all the crap going on with my leg…how will they react the day I say I'm not going to one of their games? Or I'm in no mood to play poker or the piano? They've had enough rejection in their lives, and knowing what it feels like, I won't blame them for any reaction they have." House sighed. "It's going to be OK for now; Lydia told them it's a little too soon to call me anything so warm and fuzzy. She said something about them looking for a replacement for their ex-father. For now, Lydia suggested they call me 'House', since that's what my friends call me."
"Seems to be a reasonable option," Wilson said as he looked at House. "You almost seem disappointed that Lydia said no to the parental title." House shot Wilson a look.
"With the moniker of 'Royal Jerk' that everyone assigns to me because of the way I deal with my leg, I don't need the burden of D-A-D added on." Wilson rolled his eyes.
"You're not too far away from doing something to give yourself a pretty good measure of relief with your leg. Look, Tom said there's a little bit of new necrotic tissue and some scar tissue that's got to come out because they're pressing on nerves. Once that's out and they put in the new medicine they have for the damaged nerves…"
"I'm not having the operation." Wilson stared at House blankly.
"What do you mean…"
"What the hell does it sound like? Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice, I'm a freaking moron. I am not going back on the table. I was promised the moon, the sun and the stars last time, and all I did was crash back to earth." House's reaction to the suggestion of an operation didn't surprise Wilson; he just hoped he would say the right thing to change his friend's mind.
"House, you know this time will be different. Tom said what needs to be done, Chase can do it, assisted by Foreman. Taub will even be in there. Hell, if you want, Tom can scrub in, I'll scrub in…nothing will happen to you or your leg." House tapped his beer against the table, reached for his pizza slice and stared off in the distance. In a minute, he took a bite.
"I know that things will happen differently this time than they did last time," he said as he chewed his pizza. "But different doesn't mean better. It's a lovely gesture that you all want to be in there to hold my hand," House said sarcastically. "But all the hand holding in the world isn't going to make sure that Chase doesn't find a disaster in there. The next thing I know, when I wake up, I'll be told I have a decision to make." House swallowed his pizza and washed it down with a long drink of beer.
"And if you were offered a choice? Continue to live in pain, or amputate and learn to walk again like Tom?" Wilson asked.
"That's not a choice," House said bitterly. "That's a sentence to a life of misery."
"A life of misery with Lydia? Somehow, I think that's an oxymoron," Wilson noted. "No matter what happens, you've got her by your side, and you know it. You are more …contented, at peace and in love than I have ever seen you. Yet, you are definitely still House as evidenced by this conversation. You don't know that Chase is going to find a problem in your leg; the odds are he won't. But even if he does, you have a bunch of people on your side this time…Lydia being the most important," Wilson said. He hated to put anyone, even Lydia before himself with House, but right now, it was what House needed to hear.
"When Lydia brought up the idea of me consulting Tom about my leg, I told her I'd do it for one big and two little reasons. I didn't quite realize the extent of the commitment I was making."
"House, you told me a little while ago that everything was fine on the home front; the kids…love you. If they're asking about calling you 'Dad', then that's got to be true. I'd be shocked if you're telling me you have doubts about you and Lydia." House put the last bit of crust from his second slice into mouth and turned to look at Wilson.
"Wilson, I hate to tell you this…but you really can be an idiot," House said as he swallowed the food. "If something was wrong between Lydia and me, I wouldn't be here talking to you. I'd be at home using all my charm and good looks to straighten things out." The waitress reappeared to check on their progress.
"Wow! You guys really are demolishing that thing. Sorry I doubted you," she said looking at House.
"And I ain't even finished yet," he said reaching for slice number three. The waitress' eyes bugged out as she looked at Wilson.
"This is my second," he said, trying to show he could almost match House. She shook her head and laughed.
"I'll let you two have at it," she said walking away. Wilson looked at the slice on his plate.
"You're not even going to eat half of that, are you?" House asked. Wilson shook his head.
"I'll be lucky if I manage two or three bites," he admitted. He shook his head as he watched House heartily eat the slice before him. "So, seriously, everything is still good with you and Lydia?" House put the slice of pizza down.
"For the last time, Lydia and I are fine. Not perfect, I'll admit. We have our moments like all couples do. It's normal," House said a little defensively.
"Oh God, what did you do? Leave the toilet seat up? Use her toothbrush?" Wilson asked in a teasing tone as he recalled two of the problems House had with Cuddy in his coma induced delusions.
"I forgot to take out the garbage." Wilson looked at him incredulously.
"You're…you're kidding…aren't you?" House looked at Wilson.
"Completely serious. You and Annie were home; I almost knocked on the door to check and see if this was real or not. I heard lots of giggles coming from down below, yours as well as hers, so I stayed upstairs."
"Please tell me you did not have a fight over taking out the trash." Wilson tried to talk, but he started to laugh; quietly at first, but soon he could be heard at least several booths away. "That…that is the ultimate self-fulfilling prophesy!" Wilson said. "Obviously everything came out OK." House stared at him silently.
"No. I meant to tell you: the search for a co-habitation villa is off and I've actually been sneaking out at night and sleeping back at my place." Wilson looked at him blankly. "Of course everything is OK, you moron. We were both having really bad days. Remember the patient I had a few weeks ago, the one who kept lying to us, so it took forever to find out he was an anorexic pathological liar?"
"Oh, I remember him. His case drove you crazy."
"I was still working the case, and I didn't get home till about a quarter to nine. Marianne stayed a little longer and put the kids to bed. Of course, they weren't actually willing to sleep at that point, and by the time I convinced them it was bedtime, I had it for the night."
"I bet Ben wanted to help you with the case," Wilson said.
"As always," House said taking a swig of beer. "What gets me, is a lot of the time the kid has the right idea, just not nearly enough knowledge yet to carry through. Back to the story. Lydia had school that night, so she didn't get in until after ten. At work, she had to do battle most of the day with an insurance company that didn't want to pay for their client, for various lame reasons. That afternoon, she spent several hours in the clinic, always the ultimate joy. When I saw her, I could tell she was beat, and tried to convince her to play hooky. Not only does Miss Goody Two Shoes never do anything like that, turns out she had a test. She didn't even want to eat when she got home and just headed into bed, but not before asking me to take out the garbage. I had some salsa and chips while I thought over my case out on the deck, and when it came time to take the garbage out, guess who forgot?" House said wryly.
"Oh, crap and here she's tired and in a bad mood. What did she say?" asked Wilson.
"Normally, she would joke about it, bust my chops a little. I'd bust back at her, say she wanted me to be her slave, etcetera, etcetera. Lydia went out to the kitchen to get something to drink, and saw the garbage there. Next thing I know, I'm hearing things slamming and she's muttering to herself in German. The only time she speaks her native tongue anymore, is when my native tongue is making all the right moves on her body." Wilson closed his eyes and shook his head.
"House, I don't believe you said that." Ignoring him, House continued.
"When she comes back in the bedroom, I can tell she's pissed, so I asked, 'What's wrong?' She had no problem telling me." House looked pensive. "I'd never seen her like that; then again, I don't think she'd ever been that tired and frustrated before. After she finished reading me the riot act, I apologized, told her about my case and blamed my lousy memory on that. The next thing I know, she's crying and apologizing to me." House shrugged. "I convinced her to eat something, we sat and talked, caught up with things… then we kissed and made up…as much as we could with the kids in the house." Wilson took a drink if his beer and nodded his head.
"See, if every couple who had an argument, or screwed up in some way, would just come out and admit that they screwed up, and then have the guts to say they were wrong, I think there would be fewer divorces in this word."
"You would know; you're the expert in the area," House quipped.
"Don't remind me," Wilson said painfully. "Everything wound up OK then." House stared off into space.
"Yeah, Fraulein went on and on about the fact that we talked things out, didn't act stupid like so many couples do."
"And you?" Wilson asked.
"Me, what? Did I think it was a good thing that we didn't fight over something as idiotic as garbage? Duh!" Wilson laughed. House always had a unique way of saying things. It was one of the things he liked about House the most. Wilson really wanted to continue to press House on his decision not to have surgery on his leg, but he knew that wasn't the best idea. It was only two weeks since Tom dropped the bombshell on him; he needed more time to process the information that was revealed. Besides, Wilson thought to himself, the shroud had been torn off enough skeletons tonight; time to relax. The guys spent the rest of the night talking about everything from the next boxing match coming on cable to the new video game House bought and Lydia wouldn't let her son play. Wilson promised to have House over to his place one night soon, maybe even invite Tom and Slick, and see how many aliens can be killed in a five minute time span. The mood was fun and Wilson felt good; he hoped House did, too. After a bit, Wilson looked at his watch.
"Hey, it's after eleven. We both have work and I have a busy evening planned for tomorrow," Wilson said. "Let's get the check." House raised his eyebrows.
"You're not going to give the songbird a chance to cross the state line before you ravage her, are you? What time is she due in?"
"About six-thirty. We're just going to grab some Chinese food and catch up with each other."
"Yeah, a lot can happen in forty-eight hours," House said sarcastically.
"What can I get for you gentlemen?" the waitress asked. She had seen Wilson signal and came right over.
"Just the check," Wilson said.
"What, no dessert?" she teased.
"Next time; when I bring the kids," House said. The waitress put her head down, still a bit embarrassed.
"Hey, you know our names, what's yours?" Wilson asked.
"Crystal," she replied.
"What are you studying at NJIT?" House asked. Crystal was taken back.
"How…?"
"You went over to the gray sweatjacket over there," House said indicating the coat rack. "And took something out of the pocket. You don't strike me as a thief, so I figured it was yours." Crystal shook her head.
"Makes sense when you stop to think, which I obviously didn't do," she laughed. "I'm studying Biology and Math. I haven't quite decided yet whether to practice medicine in some form or do research."
"Do what you love," Wilson said. "It's what you'll be best at." Crystal nodded.
"Thanks; that's good advice." Crystal picked up the pizza pan. "I'll box this and bring your other food back." She left for the kitchen.
"Why do I have a feeling that she will be a hit with the kids when we bring them here?" Wilson asked.
"Maybe because she's a nice kid," House said. In a few minutes, Crystal returned with the check and the food.
"The pizza's in here," Crystal said tapping a brown box. "I marked each bag to indicate what's in it, and…" she dropped her voice down. "The unmarked bags have a bunch of garlic knots. We've got a new cook and he just made up a fresh batch. We're going to close in less than an hour; he shouldn't have done that. I don't want him to get into trouble with the owner, so I'd thought I'd give a bunch to you guys…for the kids and whoever else would like them."
"Nice of you to try and help the newbie," said House. Crystal looked over at the kitchen area.
"He's a nice kid. Needs a good swift kick sometimes, but…" House looked back and forth between the cook and Crystal.
"Your kid brother?" She was going to question how House figured it out, but she already knew better.
"Yeah. I've had official custody of him since our mom died last year. I got him the job here to try and keep him on the straight and narrow."
"Aren't you a little young to take on that kind of responsibility?" Wilson asked.
"I'm twenty-one," Crystal answered somewhat defensively. "We do OK. He…he just needed a break." She saw that there was a customer waiting to pay at the register. "Here's the check. I'll come back for that." House and Wilson watched her walk away.
"She's definitely getting a good tip," Wilson said as they looked over the bill. Each pulled out some money out; when they were done, what should have been a twelve dollar tip, amounted to forty.
"It's hard going to school and working," Wilson said with a shrug. "She a sweet kid who deserves a little break herself." House agreed.
"You know, I should make you pick up the tab for tonight," House said as he brought his leg down off the seat of the booth.
"Why?"
"Because you're the one who turned this into an emotional lollapalooza and for that, a price must be paid." Wilson stood and gathered up the food.
"Was it really such a terrible thing?" Wilson asked. "I was hoping it did the both of us a lot of good." House rose from the booth with his cane; he picked up the check and money.
"Next time, warn me," he said making his way to the register.
"Sorry. I would have been over sooner, but that guy was paying by credit card and it took time going through," Crystal said. "Everything was OK, I hope."
"We'll be back with the ladies in our lives and my lady's kids, if that's any indication of how things were," House said. "When we return, the kids will love the game room, for sure."
"The biggest one most of all," Wilson said indicating House with his head. Crystal laughed as House handed her the money.
"Thanks, let me get your change…" She was confused by the bills that House handed her. Wilson noticed it was even more than they had pulled out at the table. House had added two more twenties. "I'm sorry, it's been a long day and I'm not doing a good job with the math, despite the fact that's one of my majors."
"The price of text books has gone up exponentially since we went to medical school," said House. "That probably won't even buy half of one, but maybe it'll help." Crystal was dumbfounded.
"I…I really shouldn't accept this," she said looking over her shoulder nervously.
"There's no reason why you shouldn't. You made a very pleasant evening for us," Wilson said. "What nights do you work, so we can co-ordinate bringing the rest of the crew in? We think the kids would love you." Crystal smiled.
"I work Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday," she replied.
"Doesn't leave much time for a social life," Wilson said. Crystal waved her hand dismissively.
"There are three other nights in the week."
"Touché," House said with a smile. "Have a good night."
"Thanks, you too," Crystal said.
"Bye," Wilson said. He and House left Gino's and headed to Wilson's car.
"That was very nice of you, adding the extra money in." Wilson looked at House, who didn't reply right away.
"She's busting her butt, not just for herself, but for her brother. I never had a brother I could share or do anything with." House looked at Wilson carrying the food. "If you didn't have those things in your hands, you probably would have done the same thing. So consider that I did it on behalf of the guy who does a really great imitation of a brother." House turned and looked at Wilson as he put the take home items in the trunk. Wilson kept his head bent down as he closed the lid. "Hey, do me a favor…pick you head up or we're not going to get too far before we get into an accident." They walked over to their respective doors on the car proper.
"House?" House knew what was coming, but he looked across the roof of the car anyway. "Thanks."
"Don't expect it all the time," said House as he opened the car door. "I happen to be in a really good mood tonight."
"Could have fooled me," Wilson said half under his breath.
It took almost forty minutes to get home; it was nearly midnight, and Wilson was surprised to see the light on in the upstairs living room.
"I wonder what Lydia's doing up this late," he said.
"What's the matter? Doesn't your mother wait up for you to come home from a date, so she can try and drag all the gory details out of you?"
"My mother's not home right now," Wilson said sadly. House rolled his eyes.
"I'm not rocking you to sleep unless I can use real rocks," House said as he got out of the car. They entered the house, and turned off the outside lights.
"Hello," a voice called out softly.
"Hey, Fraulein," House answered. Lydia appeared at the top of the stairs.
"How are you two dirty rotten stay outs?" she asked with a smile. She and House greeted each other with a kiss.
"See, that's why you're carrying the food; I need my hands free to molest her," House said giving Lydia another kiss.
"I'm sorry we're late," Wilson said. "Didn't mean to keep you up."
"You didn't keep me up," Lydia said. "I was sitting in the living room working on this for Elise." She walked over to the couch and held up a crocheted pink, burgundy, and cream colored blanket; only it looked too small for her daughter.
"Fraulein, you do remember what the pediatrician said at her check-up for school? How tall she was and how much she weighed?" Housed asked eyeing the small blanket. Lydia gave him a look.
"This is for Molly's bed. I'm making one more appropriately sized for Elise's bed as well. I thought since Annie got them matching beds, I'd make matching blankets for Christmas presents."
"What a great idea," Wilson said. "Annie is so pleased at how Elise goes on and on about the fact that she and Molly have coordinated sleeping arrangements."
"And matching nightgowns after we visited the American Girl Store in New York City," Lydia said putting her arm around House.
"Well, you girls had to do something while Tom, Wilson and I took Ben to the Monster Truck Rev-a-Thon for his birthday," House said.
"I know the truck show was Saturday, and this is only Monday, but he cannot stop talking about any of it," Lydia said. "He almost got in trouble in school because he wouldn't be quiet." House put his head down and smiled.
"I'm glad both kids had a good time," he said. He turned, and started to head down the hall to the bedroom.
"Turning in, House?" Wilson asked quietly, so as not to wake the children.
"Going to see a man about a horse," said House," then yeah, I'm heading to bed."
"OK…thanks for coming out tonight." House stopped and looked over his shoulder at Wilson.
"You looked at me with those pathetic, sad, puppy dog eyes…how could I say no?"
"Good night, House," Wilson said laughing. House waved his hand and made a left into the bedroom. When Wilson heard the door close, he gestured with his head for Lydia to follow him into the kitchen. He put the food he was still holding on the counter and turned to Lydia.
"How did tonight go?" she whispered.
"So-so. It was…revealing on both sides. I'm sure he'll tell you my deep dark secret someday soon, so I'm not even going into it." Wilson took a deep breath. "He doesn't want to have to operation. He doesn't foresee an outcome any different than the last time." Lydia was shocked.
"When I brought it up yesterday, he told me he was still thinking it over. What changed?" Wilson looked down at the floor.
"He lied to you." Wilson saw the look on Lydia's face and realized he should clarify the statement. "He's probably lying to himself as well when he says that. He may have been just…putting on an act when he was telling me no way was he doing it. That's the problem when things get tough with House; you don't know how to read him." Lydia looked confused and desperate.
"Doesn't he realize that the players are different this time? There's no crazed group of surgeons; Chase and Foreman will do the operation. Tom will be in there, you could be in there…hell, if I was allowed, I would go in! Doesn't he believe me when I tell him that I won't let anything happen to him or his leg?" It broke Wilson's heart to see the look on her face, and to tell her what he knew she was already aware of.
"Stacy promised him the same thing, Lydia. We know now that the decisions that she and Cuddy made were based on lies that they were fed." Wilson shook his head. "I'm just…not sure what you can do to make things better. I'm sorry." He went over to Lydia and gave her a hug; he could feel her shaking as she cried. "Hey, don't let him see you like that. I'm sure he's already figured out we're talking about him." Lydia pushed away from Wilson, and wiped her tears with a napkin that she grabbed from the counter.
"This kind of talk couldn't have made for a very pleasant night for you; I'm sorry." Wilson smiled.
"Actually, we sort of made a breakthrough in our friendship that was long overdue. It…it was a good night."
"Good, I'm glad something went well. Are you staying here tonight?"
"Yeah, I'm too tire to drive home. Besides, Annie's pillow smells like her; it'll get me through until tomorrow. Everything's locked up downstairs." Lydia smiled at him, glad in a way that he missed Annie that much.
"Thank you, James. Have a good night." They gave each other a kiss and a hug, then Wilson made his way down to Annie's place. Lydia began to tidy up. She put her crocheting away, put the food the guys brought home from the pizza place in the fridge, with exception of the garlic knots, which were still warm. Lydia checked the lock on the door to the deck, shut the lights in the kitchen and the living room, and then made her way down the hall to the master bedroom. She could hear the water running in the bathtub; House must be planning on soaking his leg. Given the late hour, it must really be hurting him…or it's the perfect excuse to avoid discussing what he and Wilson talked about. Lydia sat down on the bed and closed her eyes.
"Greg, I know you trust me with your life," she said quietly, knowing he wouldn't hear her over the running water. "What do I need to do to get you to trust me with your leg?"
