Family
A/N: This story isn't finished yet... I have every intention of finishing it, I just wanna know what you think about it so far. So if you like it, or hate it, just lemme know please
House Wilson and any other House MD characters are not mine. The teachers are all based on my own teachers, and Millie's friends are based on mine (Except Abbey, who is me...) and as such, are not available for use. (You can use Abbey if you want, as she is me, but the others are not my characters sorry. If you really feel you must use them, let me know and I'll ask them and you probably could, but don't count on it...)
Millie was created by me, along with her family. If you want to use her, ask me, and make sure you give me credit for making her up...
Anyway, onto the story...
Family
Chapter 1
"You were right..." The words were uttered from House's couch.
Raising an eyebrow, House walked further into his living room, peering over to the source of the sound. Wilson was lay in the foetal position, hugging his head and trembling. The man was crying.
"You were right," he said again, causing House to think back on his case. He'd been wrong every step of the way, thinking up bad diagnosis after bad diagnosis. Eventually, Cuddy had been forced to take him off the case. His patient was still sick, and now Forman was in charge.
"I generally am," he said, still frowning, "but that doesn't explain why you're crying on my couch." And Wilson was crying, holding himself like a child with a scraped knee.
"She was bad for me..." Who...oh... Amber aka Cut throat bitch.
House paused for a second, considering things. "That still doesn't explain why you're on my couch..." his leg was beginning to hurt, but since Wilson had taken up the couch, he had no where to sit, so he gently pushed Wilson's legs off the couch with his cane.
The oncologist sat up and dried his eyes. "I had no-where else to go..." he said in a depressed tone. "No-one else to go to..." he hung his head, his arms resting on his spread knees.
"Aww, little Jimmy got a little heartbreak and decided to go on the rebound?" House mocked, electing a glare from Wilson. "Seriously Wilson," he paused for 'dramatic effect', "I told you so."
James shook his head and sighed in defeat. "I just need a place to stay for a while until I can find a place of my own."
"Not gonna work." House responded instantly. Wilson frowned up at House, and opened his mouth to respond but House shook his head. House stood and walked to the door to his room. Leaning against the frame, with his head against the wall, he sighed, his eyes closed tight. "You admitted to... to thinking about dating me. You even said, and I quote; 'If only you had given me those eyes before I was spoken for'..." House shook his head, "I can't pretend nothing's changed..."
"But you said, people never change." Wilson said, his eyes filling with tears again.
"People never change. Situations change." House muttered softly.
"So you don't want me to move in... because the situation between us has changed?" Wilson asked, not wanting to believe what he was hearing. House nodded, "but how has the situation between us changed? Is it because I said we might as well be dating?" he asked, now getting slightly angry.
"Yes." House admitted, not answering any more.
"Why?" Wilson asked, now curious as well as angry. House just looked guilty as he finally looked at Wilson, his blue eyes full of sorrow and fear.
"I just can't." He whispered before walking into his room. He closed and locked the door behind him, in a way that seemed to say 'get lost' in a nice way.
Wilson let another sob escape as he left.
--
The next day at work was a little hectic. A new patient turned up, but House wasn't anywhere to be found. He hadn't been seen since he had entered exam room one in the morning. Now, at lunch time, there was an epidemic, and House was no-where.
Wilson looked over the records on his break, worried about the other and the conversation they had had the night before. Every time he thought about that conversation, his stomach would churn and his heart would race. He would feel feelings he had never dealt with before.
But he had to see House. After looking at the records, he was able to tell that House was no longer in the hospital. Apparently, the other male had gone home for 'personal reasons', he had even agreed to more clinic hours to be able to do so. This confused Wilson. It meant that House was serious about needing to go home.
Wilson briefly thought on it, not sure weather to be worried or just curious. He decided to wait until the other came back to work before checking on him.
Three days later, there was still no sign of House. Wilson went to Cuddy about it, but all she said was that he had requested personal time, and because House hadn't taken a day off work in near seven years, she had allowed him to go. This only made Wilson worry more. Sure, House loved to avoid work when he was at the hospital, but he would never stay at home just to do that.
So Wilson went to House's apartment, using his key to let himself in. Just before he got the door open, he noticed something was off. There were no sounds coming from within the apartment, and there was a build up of mail on the floor by the door. Obviously House wasn't home, nor had he been in a few days.
Frowning, Wilson used House's phone to call the diagnostician's cell.
"Wilson. I was wondering how long it'd take you to call..." House's voice was strong but the connection kept breaking up.
"How did you know it was me?" Wilson asked, quite aware that he was using House's phone. He put the phone between his shoulder and ear so that he had his hands free to sort through House's mail.
"You're the only one with a key to the apartment but me, and I doubt any burglar would call me from my phone." As observant as always. Wilson had to chuckle.
"Where are you?" He asked, finding the electricity bill and opening it. When he had been living at House's apartment, he had sorted all the bills and paid for them (with House's money). Now he was settling into the old, familiar habit.
"Uh..." House paused for a second and Wilson could faintly hear him asking "Where the hell are we?" the answer was given by a woman and House coughed into the phone, "Pukekohe." He said, pronouncing it 'puk e ko e', "could never tell, the sign says Puke k hoe," Wilson could practically hear the shrug in House's manner.
"Where is that?" The oncologist had never heard of the town, and was pretty sure it wasn't in the united states.
"New Zealand,"
"Australia?" As far as Wilson could recall, Australia was the only continent House hadn't lived on.
"No! The locals would have your head for saying that. Go find an atlas or something." House said before hanging up.
Placing the now sorted bills on the table, Wilson grumbled and walked to the shelf to grab the atlas. Looking up New Zealand, he searched for it on the map. It was an island country just South East of Australia, about twice the length of England, but thinner. According to the stats at the bottom of the page, the country had about 4 million people, and about 16 million sheep. What was House doing there?
Wilson called House back.
"Found it?"
"Yes. Why are you all the way out there?" Wilson allowed the curiosity to fill his voice.
"Vacation. And there's some things I have to-" he was cut off as he spoke to someone who was with him, "Millie, don't let that kite go, I gotta take this," he then spoke back into the phone. "There's some things I have to do. People to kill and all that. I'll be back home in a few days, don't worry."
Wilson sighed and shook his head, ignoring his threat to kill someone, House was often saying things like that. Telling him not to worry about House was like telling a Zebra not to have stripes. It just didn't work. "I always worry about you House."
"Awww, don't worry hunny-bear, I'll be back before you know it, then we can snuggle up and watch the stars together," House said condescendingly, "Seriously Wilson, I'm fine. I'll see you soon,"
And he hung up again. Wilson sighed and put the phone down. Looking at the clock, he noted the time. It was just after nine, so he didn't need to be back at work for another twelve hours. Shrugging, he decided to make use of House's bed. It wasn't like the other could or would stop him, and House wasn't using it.
After stripping down to his boxers and shirt, Wilson climbed into House's bed. The sheets smelled strongly of the other man, and Wilson couldn't help but breathe in deeply as he drifted of to a dream-deprived sleep.
He awoke to the phone ringing. Groaning, he looked at the clock and wished he hadn't. It was three o'clock in the morning. Checking the caller I.D., he forgave the caller as he picked up. "Hi."
"Mornin'" House's voice was tired. "Enjoy the bed?"
"Yes. Thank you." Wilson rolled his eyes. House knew that he had stayed, probably because he picked up the phone.
"I'm at the airport. Gonna be back in a few hours. I'll see you at work on Monday, unless you're still in my house, in which case, I'll kick you out on Saturday." House chuckled at something.
"I'll see you Saturday. Is everything alright House?"
"Something's changed, but I'll explain more later. Right now, I got a plane to catch." And once again, House hung up on him.
Groaning at the early hour, Wilson rolled over and tried to get back to sleep.