"House, MD" Speculative Fiction
Owned by David Shore
Title: Losing Time
Written by Aquarius Seth
Disclaimers: I do not own any of the characters that will be mentioned in this piece. All rights belong to David Shore, Heel-Toe Productions, Some Bad Hat Harry Productions, Z Shore Productions, Fox Networks and syndication rights belong to USA Networks so I'm not making a red cent from this piece. I'm just writing to write, I promise.
A/N: I'm a bit rusty-it's been one hell of a semester- I've been traumatized by Fitzgerald and Joyce. My creative streak died sometime in early January so please forgive me if this is beyond lame. I have to attempt something even if it's bad. Hopefully it wouldn't be too painful. Please R&R, I'm worried that it will lose people without being heavy handed about the plot line. I'm trying to avoid that. On that note, enjoy!
Word Count: 905
Rated R for Adult Content.
(House, Wilson)
Wilson was staring out the window holding a glass of scotch in his left hand. Wilson had been nursing this glass for ten minutes after downing his first three since he got home tonight.
House wanted to laugh everything off and say he was just screwing around and that he was only kidding, only he couldn't find the words he needed to make this stop.
It had started after one vicious argument, this arrangement.
He focused on the front door and tried desperately to find some way to ask Wilson to stay with him and to forget everything that had lead up to this moment.
All he could hear his mind scream was 'Stay. Stop and stay. Please?' However the idea of saying 'please' to Wilson was what had his tongue twisted into knots. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth together to stop his clumsy attempts from escaping his dry lips.
He focused on his own breathing and tried to find a way to ask Wilson to stay without saying please. Every witty comment he could think of disintegrated halfway though the thought. Frustrated he thought about pacing around the sofa but Wilson chose that moment to rub the back of his own neck with his right hand. Completely thrown off his thought process, he stayed seated and began the useless thought process over again.
House had just cycled back to saying 'please' and had gotten the courage to do so. He cleared his throat and licked his dry lips. Wilson turned towards him with those pleading brown eyes of his. House realized all he had to say was 'stay' and Wilson would stay. His breath was caught awkwardly in his lungs and he had to focus to breathe in and out. Wilson kept watching him and Wilson's eyes mirrored the desperation he was feeling. Thrown for a loop House's mind blanked itself out for those few precious seconds that he needed. While his mind scrambled for anything to say, a ring tone pierced his crazed thought process and his mind just gave up.
Wilson's eyes watered but no tears escaped his eyes. Wilson glanced down at the cell phone in between them and then shot those wounded eyes back towards him. His eyes were begging House to say something, anything but House couldn't. On the third ring Wilson picked up the phone. Wilson sighed heavily and closed his eyes as he flipped open the phone.
House watched Wilson's entire body start to tremble. Wilson wrapped his right arm around his stomach and House saw Wilson's shoulders slouch.
"Hello?" Wilson's voice cracked halfway through the word and House bared his teeth to that.
Say it god damn it! Say it his mind screamed but he couldn't find his voice nor he could feel his suddenly numb lips.
"Ten-forty five, outside the Red Lobster on Brown Street?" Pause. "Yes." Pause. "Yes, cash only." Pause. "Yes he made all the arrangements." Another damned pause. "I can do that for you but the price will be doubled." His last pause. "I'm clean." The pauses in between this conversation were precious moments that his rattled mind squandered, as he listened to Wilson confirm what he had written down in unbelievable rage. "Yes. I'll be there." There was another useless pause. "A blue suit?" He watched Wilson swallow nervously. "Yes. Good bye." Wilson hung up the phone and drowned the rest of his drink in one swallow.
More time escaped as Wilson fixed his tie and put the glass on the table in between them.
"I'll call you when I'm on my way home. I have condoms with me just in case I can talk him into it. I don't think you'll mind the extra hundred, do you?" The lack of sarcasm drove a knife through his heart. House felt trapped in his own body as he heard Wilson getting his keys. He heard Wilson sigh and he winced as his stomach clenched unexpectedly. "I guess telling you that I love you is moot isn't it? I don't think it ever mattered." Wilson mumbled almost to himself. "I only have ninety-nine more to go. I can do this. I can do this." House heard the door open and shut and listened for the sound of Wilson's car pulling out of the parking lot.
It wasn't until the silence filled the room that his jaw unclenched and he let his pained pleas and apologizes break the unbearable silence.
The End.