Authors Note: I felt like writing something sad. Something House. Something Wilson. Something that wasn't romance. I felt like writing this.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
"What's it like to fly?" House asked groggily, trying to roll over and face Wilson who was sitting by the side of the hospital bed, clutching at his best friend's hand through the side railing.
Wilson shrugged tiredly, the stress of the past week and lack of sleep finally catching up on him. Since House had been admitted into PPTH for kidney failure a week ago, Wilson hadn't left his side, taking up the duty of being the best friend and being a doctor.
He hadn't been allowed on the case; well it wasn't so much a case as both the problem and cause were easily identifiable but none the less he wasn't allowed to have anything to do with House's treatment, his team, according to Cuddy were to handle that.
"I reckon that flying would be the most unbelievable experience." House said softly, his breathing tired and laboured.
Wilson nodded, "Yer," he agreed, his voice shaking slightly, House's vitals were dropping and he knew that it would only be a short while until his best friend took his final breath. He took his only comfort from the fact that his friend would no longer be in any pain, from his leg and his kidneys.
"Have you ever flown Jimmy?"
Wilson looked slightly confused for a moment, not really sure why they were having this conversation, but while House was on his last breaths he would have any conversation brought up.
"Only on a plane," He stated, "Is that what you mean?" He raised his eyebrow, moving slightly in his seat so that House could get a better view of him.
House shook his head, as much as he was able to in his current state of unrest, "No, flying, like with wings…just…free, like a bird…with no worries in the world."
He shook his head, "It's not humanly possible; we'd need wings…like you said the same as birds."
House stayed silent for a minute before his face contorted into an expression of confusion.
Wilson flashed him a questioning glance, "What?" He asked.
"When did I say that…like a bird?" His memory was slipping and Wilson noted that his vitals dropped another notch as the look of confusion on his face turned into one of trepidation.
"You just…" Wilson sighed, "Don't worry Greg."
"I guess you're right Jimmy boy, we can't fly without wings, or aeroplanes. I wonder what it'd be like though, I reckon it'd be like…sex."
"Of course it would be Greg; everything to you is like sex."
"Not everything; I mean this isn't like sex…sex isn't this painful. I don't normally feel a sharp stinging sensation all throughout my body…until after I've finished." House tried to laugh, to lighten the atmosphere but just ended up jerking forward in a coughing fit.
Wilson shot out of his chair as fast as lightening, gently rubbing his best friends back and calming him down. Helping House to lie back down once he had finished coughing Wilson sat down in the hospital chair dejectedly, the truth that his best friend truly was about to die hitting him like a ton of bricks. The invincible, or so thought, Gregory House was going to perish from his own stupidness, his addiction to Vicodin. People always thought it would be a person to kill him, just like when he had been shot, but no matter how many enemies he had or mistakes he made with patients, Vicodin was always his biggest, truest, most costly mistake.
When House lay back down he was a lot paler than he had been before and his eyes were beginning to droop, but he still held on, just to finish this one conversation.
"I think that flying would be like eternal bliss, you could go where ever you wanted, when ever you wanted and it wouldn't matter because you would be the boss of yourself. I'd fly into the clouds and never come down." He whispered groggily.
Wilson had to hold back the choking sound threatening to erupt from his throat, certainly to be accompanied by tears. "I bet you would."
House closed his eyes and sighed in almost blissful relief. "I'm going to fly one day Jimmy."
"I know Greg, I know." Wilson whispered, leaning over the bed slightly, grasping tighter to House's hand.
"And if I was strong enough…" He paused to draw in a ragged breath, sinking further into the bed, "…I'd take you with me."
This time Wilson let a sob escape from his throat, burying his head in House's shoulder, clutching him around the waist, he'd just lost his best friend.
"I'm gonna fly Jimmy."
End.