AN: Warning for sensitive topic included. It's not a happy chapter.
Chapter 2:
Maria walked confidently into PPTH, smiling easily at those whom she passed. In her left hand she carried two pizza boxes while her right hung loosely at her side, her long sleeve easily covering the blood stained bandage that lay harmlessly beneath.
She walked into the vacant conference room, a frown crossing her face. Setting the pizza down on the glass table, she exited the conference room and made her way to Wilson's office.
Just as she turned the corner Wilson walked out of his office with his coat and briefcase in hand, locking the door behind him. "Hey!" He greeted cheerfully upon seeing her.
"Hey, where's House?" She asked as she waited for Wilson to catch up with her. He was walking more stiffly and slowly than he had been this morning.
"Uh, he's not in the conference room?" She threw him a look of 'Would I be asking you if he was?' causing him to laugh, "He must be with his patient, forcing the truth out of them once again."
"Ah," Maria answered with a smirk, "well, the pizza is on the table, paper plates are on top of the boxes. Did you want something to drink?"
"I'll just grab a bottle of water from the fridge." Wilson replied, settling himself down on a chair.
She raised a disbelieving eyebrow but made no comment, "Alright, well I'm going to go grab a soda." She walked out without waiting for a reply from Wilson.
It hadn't been a direct lie, she was after all going to go grab a soda but she was going to make a pit stop first.
After ten minutes of sitting alone in the conference room, Wilson began to grow uneasy. It did not take this long to get a soda, did it? He recognized the lie in Maria's eyes but couldn't place what it was about.
Something registered in his mind. Though the weather was chilly, it wasn't chilly enough for a long sleeved shirt. So why was she wearing one?
His phone went off, making him groan. Hesitantly he checked it, surprise coloring his face as Chase's number appeared on the display with a text message below – Exam room 2. 911
Wilson's heart skipped a beat at the 911 at the end. Was it House or Maria? Either way, the pizza could wait.
Moving faster than his aching back liked, he made it to the clinic in near record time. The nurses offered him a curt nod in greeting but motioned their heads to the correct room – they knew what he was there for.
Without hesitation, Wilson opened the door, stepped into the room and shut it. He stood frozen in place with shock when he took in the sight before him.
Maria sat on an exam table, her arm stretched out on a covered table with a needle, thread, antiseptic, gauze and rubber gloves next to it. Blood trickled down, staining the porcelain skin red.
She jumped at his entrance and tried to cover her arm but a familiar, tanned hand held the arm where it was. Honey brown eyes glared accusingly at Chase but turned pleadingly to Wilson.
"What happened?" He asked breathlessly, the sight of Maria's blood making him queasy.
"Come closer," was all Chase would say.
Scared of what he would find, Wilson slowly made his way next to Maria. He forced himself to ignore the red liquid trickling down and focused disbelieving eyes on the scratches cruelly carved into the skin.
The words I AM NOTHING jumped out at him, threatening to knock him over with their meaning. "Why did you do this?" He asked bewildered.
Shame, pain, anger and abandonment all swelled through Maria, driving her answer, "Why do you care?" She snapped defensively.
Wilson jumped back at the severity in the young woman's tone. He was used to tongue lashings from House but from Maria, it hurt more than he wanted to admit. Making sure to keep his face neutral he answered, "I am your friend. I care about what happens to you."
"You care because the state tells you you have to." She snapped again.
The neutrality in his eyes faded quickly, replaced by pain. Stunned into silence, he closed his eyes and turned around to leave.
"Wilson," Maria said softly, stopping him dead, "I'm sorry for what I said." She apologized. She knew she had hurt him with her accusations and she didn't want him leaving the room thinking she hated him. She cared more about both he and House than she did anyone and the last thing she wanted to do was to cause them pain. "I didn't want you or House finding out about this." She confessed and accused.
"Maria, you can't seriously expect to come in here needing stitches and not have Wilson or House alerted." Chase lectured defensively.
"House? You told House too?" Maria asked despairingly.
"Yes."
She let loose a huff of annoyance but then smiled sardonically, "At least he's too busy to come, not that he would anyways."
"Who wouldn't come?" House's gruff voice chimed in from the doorway. His face spoke of indifference and cheerfulness but his ice blue eyes told them all how he felt: angry and sad.
Maria winced at the severity of both emotions in the older man's eyes, knowing they were aimed at her. She didn't know how long he'd been in the doorway but if she had a guess it was long enough to hear the lashing she'd given Wilson.
Despite what others though, Maria knew House was protective of Wilson. The diagnostician hated seeing his friend in pain and tended to take revenge if said pain was caused by someone else.
Chase did his best to ignore the uncomfortable silence and finished sewing. He placed a gauze pad over the stitches then wrapped an adhesive bandage around it. "You're done."
"Thanks Chase, there's pizza in the conference room if you want some." Wilson offered when it seemed that no one else was planning on saying anything.
The family waited for Chase to leave before they spoke. "We should go eat before it's gone," Maria suggested trying to sound light.
"Okay," House replied before Wilson had a chance to, "but be prepared for an interrogation when we get home."
Maria bowed her head, her sad eyes hidden beneath long lashes. She walked up to Wilson, giving him a tight hug. "I really am sorry," she said as a tear trickled down, making the side of Wilson's face wet. She left before the oncologist had a chance to answer.
House and Wilson walked into the diagnostic's conference room ten minutes later. Chase, Foreman, Taub, Thirteen and Maria had already begun to dig in to the food and were chatting amicably about nothing in particular.
"How's our patient?" House asked loudly as he entered.
"Stable, it looks like the new meds are working." Taub answered hopefully before shoving a bite of pepperoni into his mouth.
"Oh good, I'd hate to think she would die while we're busy eating." Wilson snarked, shocking them all with the crispness of it. He placed two pieces of pizza on his plate and sat down opposite Maria.
House watched his friend with saddened eyes. He knew that Maria's words had bothered Wilson far worse than the deep seated thorn of pain that had been embedded in his soul.
He understood Wilson enough to know the oncologist felt a little betrayed by the words. His good intentions born out of caring and love had been thrown back in his face by the same person he'd been trying to help. He knew the incident earlier had reminded Wilson too closely of his brother, Daniel.
House sat himself on Wilson's left, throwing a look at Maria that bordered on angry and sympathetic. After all, he too had hurt Wilson many times over the years. Often when Wilson was just trying to help and be a good friend.
Maria sat across from her friends, barely able to meet their eyes. She kept her focus on the plate of food which had lain untouched since she'd placed it there. She wasn't hungry anymore. The pain and desolation in Wilson's eyes had driven most of her non-existent appetite away while the anger and sympathy in House's eyes made bile rise in her throat.
She wanted nothing more than to take her previous accusations back but she didn't know how. "You're not eating?" She asked Wilson hesitantly.
Sad, chocolate brown eyes looked up, burrowing deep into her soul. "I'm not hungry."
House saw Maria's mouth open and knew she was about to make another apology, "Well, I hate to break up this cheery (his sarcasm dripped heavily off the word) gathering but I think it's time for us to go home. It's been a long day for us old men."
The team gave each other questioning glances but made no comment on the strangeness with which the three were acting. "Well, thanks for the pizza!" Chase chirped cheerily.
"You're welcome," Wilson answered with a fake smile.
Both men waited at the door for Maria to join them, each standing protectively on one side, flanking her as they walked out to their cars.
By silent agreement, Maria led in her silver Pontiac sunfire and drove slowly enough for the two men to follow her home. All three were wary of the conversation to come but it was necessary to have.