Title: A Glassful of Shattered Hope
Author: SrslyNo
Summary: House searches for Wilson's long lost brother.
Characters: House and OC, implied Wilson
Rating: PG13
Warning: Sad. No violence. Based slightly on S5.
Disclaimer: Not mine. Never will be.
A/N: Dark Wilson Drabble. Prompt: 18, Hopeless. This was a guilty pleasure.
The fic was inspired by bishojokitsune's screencaps on dark!wilson.
Impromptu idea. Not beta'd.
The neon beer signs illuminated the crumpled scrap in House's hand. "Phil's." That was the name on the cocktail napkin the detective gave him. "You sure you've got your information straight? He's a taxpaying bar owner. Ridiculously easy to find."
House found a seat at the bar and watched the Wilson doppelganger travel down its length dispensing the appropriate bedside manner while pouring patron's drinks. The bartender bracketed his former friend in age. A bony younger build, but skin eroded with wrinkles and topped with snowier hair.
A bourbon appeared in front of him after a simple exchange of words. He nursed a few drinks as the clock neared closing. The alcohol strengthened his belief that his discovery would be the key back into Wilson's locked heart.
Each glass earned more information.
"Why 'Phil's' when my name is Jonathan?" Stiff shoulders lifted as a wry laugh twisted the lips. "Short for Philistine, my family's pet name for me, because I wasn't interested in the same things they were."
Perhaps House drank more than he planned, or the new-old face in front of him broke down his defenses. As he settled his bill he confessed, "I know your brother, James. He's been looking for you for years…"
Hands rose silently requesting him to stop. There was an eerily familiar "Oh-ho!" The rest of the response hit him like a blow to the chest. "Did Jimmy tell you the one about me being a homeless druggie? Yeah, bet he gets lots of sympathy out of that one. A few years ago his wife Julie came to me and begged me to join them for the first night of Hanukkah. She thought it would help save their marriage."
House numbly accepted his change from a bare arm sticking out of a rolled sleeve, "I could hear them yelling about me when I knocked on the front door. Jimmy answered, and before I could speak, he told me I wasn't welcome and never to show my face again. He'd convinced the family to treat me as if I was dead and sit shiva for me, but said he couldn't be bothered to mourn with them."
The dream cracked and melted like the ice in House's drink. He was shocked. Stunned. He grasped at a slippery cold thread, "Why? What did you do to upset him?"
"He was always nagging me how to live my life and that I should go to college. I wanted to live my life my way." There was a Wilsonian shrug as Jonathan picked up House's glass and tossed the watery dregs down the drain along with his last hope. "He said there was no reason for him to sit shiva because we weren't brothers anymore. Parents aside, the stubborn bastard insisted he didn't think we ever were."
Fin
Thank you for reading. Comments welcome.