Hilson inspired by 4x03 97seconds

I grabbed my pager in one hand and played with the knife in the other. I sent Cut-Throat a page to resuscitate my heart after I succumbed to my temptation and before giving it another rational thought, I drove the knife through the outlet.

It felt as if the pain in my thigh had extended to the rest of my body and multiplied ten fold.
Darkness consumed me within seconds.
I saw blurry images.

True to stereotypes I actually saw my life flash before my eyes.
It was, for the most part, Wilson-centric.
I saw the first time we met, the odd friendship blossom, or rather spread like the plague. I saw the time he was there for me pre- and post-infarction. When he comforted me after Stacy left, when he drove me home from bars and strip clubs I self-destructed in, when he risked his job for me when Vogler was around, when he tried to save me from going to jail because of Tritter, but mostly the times when Wilson moved in.

Despite the constant complains of his friends household routines, I had enjoyed having him so close. Now that I was dying, I realized that. A smoky hazy filled my flashing memories I felt myself breathe again and mentally sighed in relief that Cut-Throat had revived me. I allowed myself to fall asleep as the medics probably poked needles into me.

_[H]_

Brown-eyes bore into my soul and I blinked repeatedly.

The eyes before me slowly grew a mouth, nose, hair, and limbs.

James Evan Wilson.

He was staring at me strangely and I felt uncomfortable under his scrutiny. Averting my eyes, I realized we were back at my apartment, sitting on the couch. It felt strange because I couldn't entirely remember how I got there but his eyes were analyzing me and I felt my esophagus become constricted and tachycardia settled in.

"Why do you look so nervous?"

Huh? I made eye contact and raised my eyebrow, sarcastic remark on the tip of my tongue but his thumb came up to caress my cheek. My eyes widened and I stilled, he smiled lightly and I couldn't help but lean into the touch. He had soft hands. Probably moisturizes in the morning. How masculine. He leaned closer until our knees touched and my breath caught in my throat as I realized,

He's going to kiss me? NO! Wilson may act like a total chic but he's totally straight!

The voice in my head replied with a good point.

Why has he divorced so many times?

He just hasn't found the right match.

Coming from the guy who doesn't believe in love.

It's Wilson! He's the damn Princeton Panty-Peeler!

Yet after every bimbo, he comes back to you.

I'm his best friend! That he comes straight to me isn't strange! It's normal.

Then why does he stay to get close and then just runs off when the two of you almost make a move?

COINCIDENCE. Another example of his perfectly heterosexual mind.

You don't believe in coincidences.

…

Exactly

The voice stayed quiet and Wilson's hand didn't move. His leaned ever closer but then a fog began filling the room.
It was like I was slowly going blind. The last thing I saw was him smiling at me with those brown doe eyes and I felt his lips ghost over mines. He leaned away but as he did, my vision worsened and I could see the scene as if from a tunnel. His voice spoke but it sounded muffled, as if spoken through sound proof glass.

We need to stop hiding

_[H]_

I didn't want to leave the dream. It was so… I couldn't forget it. I forged the entire scene into my mind but details began slipping through my grasp like sand.

My eyes opened slowly and I sighed as the bright hospital lights hit my pupils.

The first thing I heard was, "You're an idiot."

The first thing I saw was the same doe eyes and brown hair that haunted my dream.

I looked up so that I wouldn't see him.

"You nearly killed yourself!"

He sounded condescending.

I rolled my eyes, "That was the whole idea."

He looked at me curiously, "You wanted to kill yourself?"

I sighed, pushing my dream away, "I wanted to nearly kill myself."

I tried to side-track the conversation and asked about the patient. He answered but went back to the topic.

"Maybe you didn't want to die, but you didn't care if you lived." It sounded more like a question.

I thought of the dream and thought to myself, I care if I live because if I do, I will be with you.

"You insisted that I needed to see for myself," I answered and he took a step back, "Was he discharged?" I side-tracked again.

"No, he's dying. You've already had two near death experiences!" I shook my head and clarified my question. When the answer slipped through Wilson's lips, I closed my eyes.

"Did you see something?" The dream and the memories sped past my eyelids and I gave him a diagnosis for the patient.

"House, what did you see?" He persisted. I opened my eyes to rid myself of the dream's meaning.

"Nothing."

We exchanged medical jargon and I felt tempted to tell him. "Nothing you don't wanna talk about or-" I interrupted him. My brain took two trains of thought, the diagnostic one spoke for the rest of me to tell him the treatment and the other part contemplated telling Wilson the truth.

"We already did. Just looking at you hurts."

Probably not as much as it hurts me to look at you.

"I'm gonna order up some extra pain meds."

I made my decision and looked him straight in the eyes. "I love you."

He just shook his head and looked me in the eyes. I stared back, keeping my face sincere. "I'm serious," I said. His lips turned up at the corners and he leaned closer to whisper in my ear, "About damn time." My eyes widened and I turned to look at him but his lips stopped me.

He kissed me.

He was kissing me.

We were kissing.

We broke apart and I quoted G.K. Chesterton.

"Coincidences are spiritual puns."

Wilson looked at me oddly and when he went to kiss me again, the world seemed to crumble and I blinked.

Wilson was staring at me oddly and snapping his fingers in front of my face.

"House, are you ok?"

I blinked again. It was a hallucination... I was day-dreaming. I looked at Wilson and felt a bit of the frost of my heart crack once again at the warmth of his eyes and grumbled, "Sorry, dazed off..."

T[H]E END

This is shit. Just saying. I wrote it as a Hilson drabble on my tumblr and it was late at night and I was bored and tired and watching re-runs. So this was born from the look on House's face when he tells Wilson "I Love You" after Wilson tells him that he's gonna order up some more pain meds. Un-beta'd and pretty bad because I didn't put my all into a few parts. Please give me feedback to what you want improved. Personally I really dislike the ending. I don't want to leave my Hilson like this. Review please ! sknahT

-MARS

11/25/11 UPDATE: Hey guys! I edited this piece finally :D I like this ending better. I'm sorry if you guys are disappointed but I love sticking to canon. Yet not... Someone who reads this might understand what I mean! Well review and all that crap.

p.s. If I ever get another one shot idea, I'll most likely add it to this, if anyone cares!