Hey thanks for your comments so far. Here's the second chapter. Hope you enjoy!
Penicillin of the universe
This is your captain speaking could all passengers please ensure that they remain in their seats until the seat belt sign is off
House flipped the lid on his vicodin bottle, placed the white pills of paradise gently on his tongue and allowed them to slowly slide down his throat, caressing his tortured soul with every inch they transcended and emitting bursts of tantalizing pleasure that very few other things in life gave. For good measure he swallowed down the ice cold scotch he had hid on his person, and before the plane had even left the runway he was already at the summit, before its engines had thrust them upward he was oblivious to the difference and completely stoned.
Wilson gave him a side long glance and breathed a sigh of relief. Hopefully, he thought, House would sleep for the entirety of the journey or at least be too wasted to say anything profound or unsettling. Normally he would have scolded him, hid his pills when he wasn't looking or watered down the scotch, anything to keep him sober for his first meeting with his parents in over a year, but he was being selfish this time and for good reason. What made him ask the Cameron question? Hopefully it was already forgotten.
Wilson's fidgeted in his chair as the gruff voice next to him made him start.
"I know you worry about flying, but if it crashes I promise you, your death will be excruciatingly painful yet quick, just not as quick as mine."
"Oh really, and why."
"Cause I'll be finishing off my vicodin and getting as much scotch as I can get my hands on."
Wilson just threw his hands in the air as if he was asking a higher power to provide him with some strength. This man was suggesting that in the event of a crash, he would only be interested in acquiring alcohol to go as a great mixer with his prescription, and the sad thing was that Wilson didn't doubt it for one moment.
"Of course the addict must remain faithful to the end, heaven forbid you left this earth without a fix of vicodin and scotch to tide you over till you got to the other side."
It was House's turn to look temporarily frustrated at the words of his friend. How could an intelligent man such as Wilson, who worked with people getting the short straw everyday when it came to life, still believe their was something up there, guiding us all and looking after us like a father. I suppose really it wouldn't be too hard to imagine, if the being was like his paternal one. But no, he preferred to believe that it had all just been one big accident. They were the penicillin of the universe.
Rather than voice this though, his answer was short and sweet giving the same desired effect.
"Other side...the other side."
Then the laughing fit came, and it didn't end till he fell asleep.
The plane shot up into the air and Wilson grasped the edges of the seat, catching the hand once more of the sleeping doctor who lay peacefully beside him. The only positive this had at that moment was Wilson no longer cared if the plane crashed.
"Let the damn thing crash, before I make a complete ass of myself," was muttered ever so quietly under his breath. Eventually, his restlessness caught up with him and he dozed of as well.
