Title: The Department Meeting, Part 1
By: lbc
Pairing: Wilson/House
Rating: G
Genre: slash
Disclaimer: I sure wish I owned these characters, but I don't
Summary: Wilson remembers various department meetings.
Edward Vogler was gone. Wilson felt like laughing and crying at the same time. As he sat in his usual place around the large rectangular table, there was no hulking menace, sitting at the end of the table, hovering over all of them like the Angel of Death.
Looking at the other end of the table, Dr. Lisa Cuddy's diminutive figure hardly imposed the same threat. Wilson didn't actually blame the other members of the departments for their votes; after all, 100 million dollars was a lot of medical equipment and a lot of staff, but these people who he would have sworn would stand up for House, had failed him. Even Cuddy had knuckled under until the end. That had been her finest hour.
The department meeting had ended. Gregory House MD, superb diagnostician, and major pain in the butt had not arrived until the meeting was almost over. That he had a good excuse was up for debate, but that wasn't Wilson's problem. Vogler's decision to fire Wilson had been just one more skirmish in the war to rid Princeton-Plainsboro of said pain in the butt, but, to Wilson, it had been much, much more.
He had been Gregory House's friend since the university, but House's adamant stand about the speech he was supposed to give, had focused Wilson's eyes onto a whole new House.
Wilson had left when his "lover" had decided it was best for their upcoming medical careers; he had rushed to House's side when his life was threatened by a muscle infarction; he had signed on at Princeton-Plainsboro where House had run amuck for the past several years, and he had stood up for House against the wrath and wealth of Edward Vogler, and all . . . all that Gregory House had said, when confronted, was "It matters."
Wilson shook his head as he looked around at his office. Most of his memories had returned to the walls. The plaques were in place and the mementos of a distinguished career were all snug in their assigned spots, but what did James Wilson really have?
The struggle with Vogler had revealed the real problem that a friendship with Gregory House presented: what was James Wilson getting from the relationship? When he and House had become lovers, they had been younger . . . well, Wilson had been younger; he wasn't sure if Greg House had ever been young - - scruffy, yes, but never young.
That had been the first thing that had attracted Wilson to House. He was older than the usual student on the medical track at university. The second thing that attracted him was the piercing stare of two of the most remarkable blue eyes in existence. The third . . . well, the third was more illusory. House didn't limp then; hadn't been in pain, but he was still the same sarcastic, caustic, didn't-suffer-fools-gladly person whose chief characteristics would later reach epic proportions as he dealt or didn't deal with the infarction.
In those halcyon days as the two men worked their way through medical school, loneliness had been there. Wilson noticed House's brilliance, and House noticed Wilson's . . . butt. It was a meeting of the minds . . . or something, but it had all fallen apart when House graduated and went on his way into his field of specialization. And yet, they had remained friends . . . lovers no longer, but still friends.
Now the very threads of that friendship were badly frayed. Edward Vogler might be gone, but he had done his work well. Wilson had volunteered to resign after the board had found some of its nerve and refused to fire him. Wilson had given up one of the two things that mattered most to him, especially now that his third marriage was on the rocks. What did he have but Greg House and his job, and he had given up one to save the other?
Suddenly, James Wilson felt totally exhausted. He closed his eyes in the cocoon of his office and remembered the recent confrontation. Wilson had been angry. He had shouted at House and accused him of not even caring about anything enough to give a speech, and all that House replied was, "It matters."
That was the real trouble with Greg House: he gave so little of himself and expected others to understand, and yet, why shouldn't he? Hadn't James Wilson always been there?
When House had wanted his body some 15 years before, he got it. When House needed someone to help him get through the devastating days of the infarction, Wilson was there. When House was in danger of being fired by Vogler, Wilson was there to vote no. Why should James Wilson complain about how he was treated, if he was willing to be stepped on and ask so little in return?
Wilson slipped on his suit coat. It had been a very long day. His apartment was lonely and cold, and yet it was a lot more comforting than this hospital and this office were at the moment. Shutting off the light, Wilson left for home, shaking his head at the schlemiel he was. Gregory House certainly had diagnosed James Wilson to perfection - - that is, he had - - until now.
End of part 1