Author's Note- So this is my first shot at House. Sorry if anybody's a little out of character, I"m still getting the hang of writing about what House would do because he's- well he's House! So I hope you liked it! Reviews are always nice! I own only the idea, not the characters!
Reviews are nice, but I know some of you guys really don't have the time.
Summary: House's parents come out to visit, and upon driving them back to the airport, House and Wilson get into a car accident. House is ejected from the vehicle, and ends up hopelessly lost for a few hour until he is found, but he is still really out of it. HUDDY! Can House get through the pain and guilt of the accident, even though Wilson doesn't blame him? Also, Cuddy begins to see House for who he is really is, not who he portrays. Have fun! Enjoy the read!
"What?!" Cameron and Chase looked up when they heard House shouting into his phone. "But I don't-" He waited for a moment, his brows thrust together in agitated concentration.
House slammed down his phone, and scowled, rubbing the side of his face with an open hand. Picking up his cane, he furiously waddled from the diagnostic room.
"Wait! House, what's wrong?" Inquired Cameron, rising to her feet.
"I have gas. Now get out of my way, unless you'd rather-" Cameron quickly stepped aside, ignoring the sarcastic comments rolling off his tongue like raindrops fall from the sky. Simple and easy.
The rest of his team simply stared at him, and then looked to each other with shrug. One never really knew what he meant anymore, his sarcastic comment slurring together with his truths. Sometimes only he really knew what he meant.
House made a beeline to Wilson's office, wincing as his cane slipped in a wet spot. He massaged his bad leg for a moment before carrying on, and then took off again.
"Wilson!" Wilson looked up from his desk, exasperatedly. House barged into his office, leaning heavily on his cane. "I need to borrow your car. "
"What? My- my car?" Asked Wilson, stumped as to what House would need his car for. House shook his head impatiently, a 'DUHHHH- you really think so?' look plastered on his face."Why?!"
"I can't exactly pick up my parents from the airport on my bike, now can I?" House ran a hand through his hair, and looked at the floor while he waited for Wilson to answer.
"Alright. Just don't wreck the car, that's all I need." Wilson tossed him the keys, and House nodded gruffly. House opened his mouth, and then shut it, obviously thinking better of what he was about to say.
"Your welcome House!" Wilson's voice rang from the other side of the closed door. House closed his eyes for a moment, and then limped out to the parking lot to Wilson's car.
"There you are!" House's mom lurched forward, and wrapped her son in a big hug, kissing his cheek. "Ooh, Gregory! I miss you, sweetie!"
"Yeah,uh, me too." Murmured House awkwardly, wrapping his free arm around her in an odd one armed hug.
"Hey Dad." House's father snorted in response, not looking up from his wheelchair.
"It's getting worse and worse. He's starting to not recognize me..." Spoke his mother wistfully, her face twisting a little.
"Is he taking his medication?" Asked House formally.
"Yes, Greg, he is. And don't act so stiff! We're family! One big happy family, right?" House glared at her, and his mother sighed. When House was younger and his father was particularly pissy that was what his mother would ask him in such a cheerful voice. And at his young age he hadn't been able to argue."Greg, look, this may be the last time he ever recognizes you, so can you at least pretend to have a good time for him? Please, for your Mommy?"
House sighed and nodded curtly, as if wanting it to go unnoticed. His mother smiled at him, and helped him get his father into the car. House buckled his father into the back seat, and then popped Wilson's trunk. His mother looked inside at the large overcoat that was obviously not his his, and eyed him wearily.
"It's not my car, Mom." Said House with an incredulous look at his mother. His mother rose her eyebrows, an obvious indication of where House got most of his humor from. She raised her hands up as if to say 'I surrender' and walked slowly to the side of the car before gently lowered herself into the passenger seat.
House let out a soft curse as the wheelchair braced itself against the rim of the trunk, refusing to be put in. After another furious wrench it crashed into the trunk, and House yanked Wilson's overcoat away from the wheels. As brusque and gruff as he was, he didn't think his friend deserved wheelchair dirt and grime all over his overcoat. It was light in color, and soft to the touch. It reminded him of a blanket he'd had as a small child.
Pushing the thought from his head, he slammed the trunk shut, and hobbled to the driver's side door. He sighed and then hopped slightly to get his bad leg into the car, and then grimaced as he sat down. His mother took the came from him, and set it across her lap, as he turned the key in the ignition.
The car ride back wasn't entirely silent, but the bulk of it was. After so long, House turned the radio on, easily sifting to a jazz station and his mother absently hummed along for a little while before slipping off to sleep. House enjoyed the easy quietness of his sleeping parents as he drove on, doing his utmost not to wake them. Not out of courtesy, as he felt it would've been to anyone else, but rather to spare himself uncomfortable conversation and possible bickering between his father snorted in his sleep, and House glanced up, his blue eyes staring back at him momentarily in the mirror.
His father's head lolled to the left, drooling dominantly on his cotton button-down. He half smiled as his father snorted again and licked his chops, before commencing drooling. If his father kept this up, the week wouldn't be completely unbearable. He hummed along to 'What a Wonderful World', and sighed. Who was he kidding. This week would be long no matter what.
"It looks like lupus." Foreman held out his hands imploring House to do better.
"It's never Lupus!" Said House exasperatedly, leaning heavily on his marker board.
"What about Sarcoidosis?" Asked Mrs. House , walking into the room, wheeling her husband in.
"We're in the middle of something here!" Said House, throwing his hands wide. He looked to his employees for support, and when they offered none he groaned.
"What about Sarcoidosis?" Asked his mother, narrowing her eyes at him as she wheeled her husband in.
"Well it's possible-"
"Get a biopsy." spoke his mother impatiently, and when no one moved she shooshed them out of the room with the wavings of her hands. "Go on, go on! I'm a doctor,too! Now shoo!"
Bewildered, the team departed, and cast House shocked yet somehow smug looks as they shuffled out. House glared at them, and when they had gone, he turned to his mother.
"You need to take your father out to lunch. He actually asked to see you."
"I don't have time! Besides, what difference does it make now?" House turned from her and stared determinedly at the marker board, erasing a symptom and then rewriting in a new one. He hadn't had a chance to before his mother had come bursting in.
"Gregory! You are taking him to lunch, even if you take him to the damn cafeteria."
House grumbled under his breath as he snatched the handles of the wheelchair from his smug mother and wheel him out of the room silently.
"Whah?" His father sat up with a groan, low and rumbling from smoking, no doubt. "Where're we going?"
"Lunch." Said House, not even bothering to be cynical with his father at the moment. He wasn't going to bother playing if he couldn't win, at least not against his father.
"Hmph. Your mother insisted that I go with you...." Lied his father, and House sighed, and looked to the ceiling, avoiding answering any questions if at all possible.
"Watch it!" Shouted a patient as House nearly ran them over, and House merely proceeded to make a face. The teenager sauntered off and yanked open the door to a room and slammed it behind her.
House readjusted his cane on the back of the wheelchair, and leaned into the chair as they road down. Wilson was waiting for him in the lunch line, and he'd already ordered a double order of fries, after forgetting that House had company.
"Hey Jimmy. Meet Pops." Said House with a bright mocking smile. He'd heard Wilson talking to his parents on the phone on numerous occasions, and Wilson had numerous names for his parents.
"Hello, House." Said Wilson with a sigh."This is your father?"
"John House," Rasped his father, extending a weathered hand. Wilson shook it courteously with a warm smile.
About ten minutes later they all sat at a table, eating in awkward silence.
"What is this?" Asked John, pointing to a plastic cup.
"Your coffee." Said Wilson, looking to House, who shook his head, an 'I'll explain later' shake.
"Ah,coffee.... Nice. Very nice." reached for the coffee, and he leaned forward in his chair to get it. Wilson reached forward to help him, but smacked his hand away. "I can do it myself!"
People looked up at them, but Wilson simply smiled and they went back to their food. John's fingers brushed the side of the cup, and he leaned forward a little further, and made a wild grab for the cup. It tilted, and spun around and then spilled all over the table and onto himself. House jumped up painfully to avoid the hot coffee, landing on his bad leg, and then started mopping up the coffee with wadded napkins.
"Give me the napkins, you idiot! Do you want me to burn the flesh off my legs?" Barked his father angrily. He snatched the towels angrily, and began furiously wiping at his legs. People were staring shamelessly, but House ignored them.
"I'm going to get more towels." Whispered Wilson, getting up and running to get the towels. He could hear snapping at his son, and he grimaced.
"Why the hell didn't you give me my coffee?" Demanded John, his face accusing as House piled the sodden napkins on a plate."Answer me Gregory!"
"You told us not to. " Said House shortly, accepting the extra towels and napkins from Wilson.
"I did not!" Retorted his father.
House ignored his fathers insults now, and simply cleaned up the burning hot mess, not noticing as it burned his fingers red. Wilson simply stared on, concluding miserably that House's father obviously had Alzheimer's. He wasn't used to seeing House take insults like that,and it didn't suit him.
The mess was cleaned up, and the towels and napkins in the garbage, and soon they would leave. House left slowly, not ill at ease anymore now that everyone was staring at his father who slept heavily, drooling on himself once more. He did however, avert his eyes from Wilson who was trying as best he could to read into House's emotions,the ones that seemed to be , once the walls were up, impossible to perceive. It was about as productive as ramming your head repeatedly into a steel door to get it open.
House pushed the wheelchair toward his mother without a word and simply left, leaving his mother and Wilson standing there awkwardly.
"I'd, uh, better get going." Started his mother, smoothing out her blouse absently as she collected her things. "I need to make sure John gets his sleep."
"Alzheimer's, am I right?" Blurted Wilson impulsively.
"Yes. I hate to see him go back. It was a rough time he's headed back towards. I hate to see it, oh you bet I do." Rambled as she wheeled her husband towards the elevator.
"What do you mean?" Wilson walked slowly, so as to make her feel more comfortable.
"Well, he was going through a lot of depression after he came back from Nam. He was gone awhile when Gregory was a little baby, and he came back when he got shot. I don't think he ever got over it though. His psychiatrist said it was P-T-S-D, and I think he was right. He was so angry and bitter, and that man could drink enough for a small army. High tolerance, good for driving- but horrible for money. He nearly drank us into a ditch."
"That is common with anxiety and depression. Drinking takes the edge off." Nodded Wilson.
"Yes," Agreed House's mom , her face contemplative. "I know you're his best, if only friend. That is why I am telling you this. Do you understand?" Wilson nodded. "It got to the point where I had to remove him from the home, he was so screwed around up there. He was getting too aggressive with everybody. Gregory was always happier without his, well you know what I mean. They never did get along.... And John,well,now he's slipping into senility! And I guess it's a bit of a bad trick for Gregory. Please, don't let him down, okay?"
"I won't. I promise." Nodded Wilson, not knowing what on Earth that could or might very possibly entail.
Author's Note- So this is my first shot at House. Sorry if anybody's a little out of character, I"m still getting the hang of writing about what House would do because he's- well he's House! So I hope you liked it! Reviews are always nice!