Title: The one where Wilson hides something 1/6
Author: Jerico Cacaw
Fandom: House MD
Characters: Wilson, House, H/W -- Chase's POV
Summary: Wilson has something to hide and House can't figure it out.
Notes: For the housefest LJ community, the prompt is #31. A patient knows something about Character A that s/he doesn't want anyone else to know. Character A will do all it takes to keep the patient from telling.
I first sketched an AU story, very scifi heavy -- but I won't finish that one in time. Instead, I have this other idea I'd been playing with for a while. Nothing mind-shattering, indeed ... but not fluffy! Or angsty (or so I hope)! So, this is the beginning. My intention was to write House's POV, but it wasn't working. I'm not sure if this works with Chase, either; I felt at times as if narrating a tennis match.
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"You spent the night here."
Startled, Chase looked up from the article Cameron had asked him to read. House's comment had taken him by surprise -- not only because he had been lost in thought, trying to decide if he really was expected to deliver deep meaningful critique or not; but also due to the fact that he had absolutely no idea what his boss was talking about.
Thankfully, House wasn't addressing him -- a fact made obvious by the older doctor completely ignoring him while walking out of his office, his eyes completely focused on Dr. Wilson, and his tone one that announced more was being said that just the uttered words.
Whatever the message between the lines was, Chase didn't need to know. Normalcy had never been the rule when the two heads of department were together, but lately things had gotten weirder than they were on those first days of his fellowship.
"Yeah, it is a thing doctors do from time in time, you know," Wilson sipped at his coffee, looking at House over his cup's rim. "Oh wait, I forgot. That's what you have your underlings for."
"Among other things," House said, leering at Chase, who didn't even have time to look indignant before House's attention returned to the oncologist. "You didn't have a patient last night."
"The person I treated might differ," Wilson responded, a 'what are you playing at' look in his face. "Either that, or I'm delusive."
"Always," House agreed, using his own cup for pointing purposes. "And you only make patients spend the night at the hospital when death or dying. At a comparatively faster speed than usual, that is," he clarified, his gestures letting the world know that he didn't believe Wilson's aforementioned patient could be included in such category.
Wilson's questioning gaze turned into one of realization. "I would ask why you are stalking me and my patients, House, but I really don't want to know."
Neither did Chase, but he didn't say so. Maybe if he kept quiet the other two would take their conversation to House's office; that way he could still eavesdrop while being able to deny doing it.
House was, as usual, unfazed.
"Patient's name: John Doe. Admitted by one Doctor Jimmy Wilson, oncologist, yesterday at ten forty-five pm," he said, reading from a paper that had been scrunched in his shirt's pocket. "No age, no ailment, no treatment," he scanned the page before turning it into a ball and throwing it on Wilson's main direction, "and, according to this morning's rotations, no patient either."
"Ask Cuddy," Wilson cryptically declared, leaving his now empty cup by the sink. "Not that she'll tell you anything," he added as in afterthought.
"I'll just keep annoying her pet doctor; it's more fun," House stated, beaming at the prospect. "How many real patients have you scheduled today?"
Wilson sighed. Chase rolled his eyes (discretely) and tried to keep his mind blank. He didn't want to get fired for comparing, even mentally, PPTH's most famous doctor to his neighbor's annoying teenage niece. And no, he didn't really believe House could read his mind.
Well, maybe only a little.
"There's no medical mystery, House, really."
Chase cringed at Wilson's words. Even having been around House for a shorter time than Wilson had, he knew that was exactly the wrong thing to say. Now there was no way House would let it go.
"Ah, but there's a mystery," House established, as if to prove Chase's conclusions right. "Now, spit."
The man was now blocking the door, while the arm-crossed oncologist stood once again by the coffee machine. After doing what seemed to be seriously consideration of his options for almost a minute, Wilson finally shrugged, probably deciding that pissing off Cuddy was better than having House chewing his ankles all day.
"Lots of money, embarrassing situation," Wilson listed. And, obviously noticing how House seemed to be waiting for him to elaborate, he added: "you don't need to know more."
House's eyebrow showed what he thought of Wilson's summary.
"Cuddy would have hid the patient's file, not replaced it. At least, not unless being masterfully manipulated into believing that was the right thing to do." Masterfully manipulated by Jimmy Wilson, he didn't say, yet Chase could hear the unspoken words.
House moved closer to his opponent, never taking his eyes from him. Chase was surprised when Wilson didn't try to escape, now that the door was unguarded. But maybe the years of association with the man had taught him there was no easy way out -- or maybe these just were his 'House-management' ways, as Foreman had taken to call them.
"There was no file, or entry, to replace," Wilson detailed. "It was a … mistake, if you wish … what brought my patient to the hospital. And of course I talked Cuddy into not writing down the incident," he admitted. "I do happen to care about my patients' welfare."
House opened his mouth to deliver a retort, closed it, glanced at Chase and frowned, evidently restraining from giving Wilson his desired response in front of a witness. Chase wondered if he should offer to cover his boss' clinic hours, despite the fact that Cameron was currently doing them.
The two men stared at each other, a communication of sorts taking place without words. House's frown got darker and Wilson weakly denied with his head, nervously taking a quick look in Chase's direction. Then House nodded, seemingly satisfied. At what, only the two of them could say.
"It was not about money," House attacked from a different angle, not ready to give up on the main topic.
"Tell that to Cuddy," Wilson promptly delivered, also ignoring the weird non-verbal dialogue that had just taken place.
"You don't care about donations," House continued, paying no attention to Wilson's interruption. "Meaning, there's another reason why you want to keep this quiet, to begin with."
"My patient's needs --"
"You are an enabler, yes; but only when it suits you."
Okay, then. Chase really, really wanted to be somewhere else. Back in Australia, even -- but other floor would work nicely, too. He was used to witnessing confrontations between those two. Some of them (most of them) weren't actual disputes, only an exchange of biting words between sharp-edged minds equipped with finely honed tongues. Only a few of their confrontations were essentially sour, heated discussions.
This was none of the two, not as packed as it was with an intensity he couldn't put name to. He wondered if they still were aware of his presence.
Wilson broke the silence first. "I'm not saying more, House, no matter how much you push." And with that he moved to the door, slipping by House's side without being stopped and only pausing to pick up the discarded paper ball.
"I can have my cronies verifying your story with every single donor, you know," House declared, turning to face the departing doctor.
"I didn't say it was a hospital's sponsor," Wilson smiled, pausing at the conference room's entrance.
It was obvious that House wasn't happy with the other doctor's cherry demeanor. "You didn't say it wasn't, either," he retorted, although he didn't look very sure of his words.
Wilson shrugged, and with a single fluid motion he shot the paper ball cleanly into the waste bin. Then, a short nod given in Chase's direction, he left.
"And he scores," House mumbled, turning around and moving back into his office -- but then their eyes met and he paused for a second. The moment didn't last long, but Chase didn't need more to realize that House had forgotten about his presence, and that those last words were meant for no one to hear.
Alone again, Chase looked at the waste bin, realization slowly downing on him. Wilson was lying, successfully hiding something from House of all people … and even being smug about it. Either he was insane (clinically, not only theoretically anymore), or he has truly brave -- and insane, too. Chase shuddered at the mere idea of making House follow a trail by offering himself as bait.
He tried to remember every one of Wilson's words and gestures, wanting to know why he was so convinced of the man's deception. There wasn't an obvious telltale of his ruse, but somehow he knew House had been right since the beginning: Wilson wasn't being honest. What about, Chase couldn't say, but it was obviously related to the mentioned mystery non-patient.
He wondered if he should start making phone calls.
To Be Continued