Title: Softly and Tenderly, For Maggie Rose
Author: Lady Taevyn
Rating: K+
Summary: Wilson pays someone special an anniversary visit.
Disclaimer: House and Wilson aren't mine. Maggie and the idea are.
A/N: This idea came to me after hearing Robert Sean Leonard sing the hymn "Softly and Tenderly (Jesus is Calling)" and some discussion on the TWoP boards. Please let me know what you think.
House didn't hear the quiet guitar till he was almost all the way in the living room. Wilson, it turned out, was playing a sad plaintive melody. House didn't even know he could play. After listening for several more seconds House removed his jacket and sat at the piano. It was a simple enough set of chords, and soon he was just as wrapped up as the maudlin figure on the sofa. Wilson had stopped playing, opting to stand beside the piano.
"She would have been eight today." Wilson managed before a choked sob escaped. House cocked his head slightly unsure where the melody should go, and perplexed by Wilson's words. He waited for the other man to get his emotions in check.
"Her lungs weren't fully formed, but it never showed on the ultrasound, so we thought everything was fine. When they did the autopsy her lungs were partially inflated. She had tried to breathe, but just couldn't make it work." House could see the tears streaking down Wilson's cheeks, hell he could feel tears forming in his own eyes.
Eight years, House thought to himself, that would have been with his first wife then. House briefly wondered if that was what had caused the divorce. He then wondered why Wilson had never told him about this before.
"She would have been a great kid." It was the only thing House could come up with to say.
"I play that song at her grave every year. I was just about to go when you came in." Wilson said putting the guitar back in its case, and grabbing his jacket. House followed him, not knowing what else to do.
"Would you mind if I came with. We could get dinner on the way home, and I'd like to meet her." The last bit came out in a quiet rush, sounding like one word.
The drive to the cemetery was made in silence, neither man knowing quite what to say. Walking between the stone markers House again wondered why Wilson had never told him before. Oh well, he knew now, and would be here for his friend, that was the important thing. They stopped in front of a stone with a marble cherub perched on top. The granite simply read Margaret Rose, Beloved baby girl. House stood back as Wilson crouched down level with the stone.
"Hey Maggie, I brought your Uncle Greg to meet you. I hope you're having fun where ever you are. Mommy and I miss you very much, I'm sure she's already been by to see you. I love you." He traced her name several times before reaching for the guitar.
End. Let me know what you think.