Feeling update crazy today. :P Still don't own them, probably never will. Enjoy anyway. :)
# # #
Wilson was hanging out near the reception desk in the front lobby, idly chatting with one of the nurses, occasionally glancing at the double doors that led into PPTH. House should be returning any time from his lunch…thing, and Wilson had to admit, he was more than a little curious about House's new friend. He wasn't jealous, far from it. It was good for both of them, as far as Wilson was concerned. The fact that House was reaching out to others meant that perhaps he wouldn't lean so heavily on Wilson.
Finally the double doors whooshed open, and House strode through, sunglasses on, whistling to himself as he made his way through the lobby. Wilson flashed the nurse a quick smile and excused himself to race after his friend, catching him just before he arrived at the elevators.
House lifted his shades, glancing briefly at Wilson, who looked at him with a hopeful expression. He smirked slightly as he let the sunglasses settle back over his eyes.
"Something you want, Wilson?"
Wilson shrugged, attempting to sound casual. "Just thought I'd see how your lunch thing went."
"My lunch date was fine." The elevator opened, and House stepped on. He removed his sunglasses and tucked them into his t-shirt. Wilson quickly followed, and the door closed on them, taking them to the fourth floor. House huffed in exasperation. "Are you stalking me?"
"No, of course not." Wilson squinted, trying to get a read on House. As usual, it proved impossible. If House didn't want to reveal something, no force on earth could make him. "So you're calling it a date now."
"Yes." House's tone warned Wilson to back off.
"Do you plan on seeing him again?"
"Jesus, what is with you?" House snapped, already irritated with Wilson.
"Nothing! I just…" Wilson ran his hands through his hair, settling on the back of his neck. "Ever since you came back, things have been…different. I don't know what to think."
"Don't worry. I'm not going to jump you in the elevator or anything. You're safe." House rolled his eyes in amusement. "Anthony, on the other hand…"
"Oh for God's sake." Wilson looked exasperated. "I'm not worried about that. I just worry about you."
"I know this will be impossible for you, but stop worrying." House glanced over at his friend. "I am capable of taking care of myself."
"I wish I could believe that, House." Wilson's face changed to a look of concern. "You don't exactly have a great track record as far as that goes."
"I don't have a damn thing to prove to you, Wilson." House's voice was extraordinarily calm as they stepped off the elevator. "All I know is…things have changed. Quit waiting around for me to screw up and just take me as I am."
He turned his back on Wilson, making his way to his office. Wilson simply watched him go, noting that he seemed to be walking a little taller and a little straighter. House was different, no question. Whether these changes would stick was a different story. All Wilson could do now was wait and see. It was frustrating, but it was all he could do.
# # #
House finally made it back to his office after disentangling himself from Wilson. While he was grateful his best friend hadn't abandoned him, House was finding Wilson's extreme hovering a bit, well, extreme.
Wilson's concern was only natural, House supposed. Even if Wilson was supposedly okay with House's new…thing, it had to be more than a little odd for him. Hell, it was odd for House. He hadn't allowed himself to feel an attraction to another man in many years, at least since med school.
He didn't feel like analyzing things just then. House decided to set the puzzle aside until he could work it out in counseling. The outpatient counseling was helping, no doubt, just not always fast enough to satisfy House. His counselor had to constantly remind him that House had spent many years burying his issues, and it might take more than a few years to dig it all up and deal with it.
The door opening between his office and the conference room caught his attention, and he glanced up to see who was entering. It was Thirteen, holding the case file in her hand.
"LP was clean." She calmly reported. Her nose suddenly wrinkled as she sniffed the air. "Is that you?"
House rolled his eyes. "Mexican for lunch. I can't digest all that crap like I used to."
Thirteen fixed him with a meaningful look. "After we completed the LP, the patient started coughing up blood. Foreman's scheduling her for an MRI right now. And that cologne? It works for you."
House stared her down, his bright blue meeting her cat-like green. "Don't you have some test you need to run?"
Thirteen looked smug as she left the office. Clearly something was going on with House. She knew that if she simply observed long enough, whatever it was would bubble to the surface. It was only a matter of time.
# # #
The patient took a turn for the worse, the MRI revealing nothing. House stood at the whiteboard, looking at the ever increasing list of symptoms. Nothing was connecting, and it was frustrating as hell.
He didn't hear Cuddy enter the conference room, but he smelled her as she walked up behind him. Soon she was beside him, her eyes widening at the symptoms covering the whiteboard.
"Wow." Cuddy sounded shocked. "It's a wonder she's still alive."
"I'm about to turn this thing over and use the other side. Been a while since I've had to do that." House's eyes crinkled as he turned over the case in his mind, searching for anything that would connect the symptoms.
Cuddy reached out and touched his shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"I'm fine." House scowled. "I'll be better once I get this thing solved."
"I just…" Cuddy backed away, her eyes filled with concern. "Don't push so hard. You can go home if you need to. Let Foreman handle things."
"Yeah, because he's done such a kick-ass job so far." House grumbled.
Cuddy crossed her arms over her chest, pursing her lips in frustration. "I just don't want to lose you again, that's all."
"Not going anywhere, especially right now." House replied testily. "Can't you see my patient's on the edge of dying?"
"House…"
"For Christ's sake, Cuddy, go home!" House finally snapped at her. "I'll call if I need something, you know that. That hasn't changed. Just let me do my damn job."
Cuddy sighed, knowing there was no point in arguing with House. "Just take it easy, okay? That's all. Good luck with her."
"It'll be a hell of a lot easier when you get out of my hair." House's phone started chiming as he finished talking to Cuddy. He flipped it open and answered. "House."
Cuddy exited, taking the hint of House turning his back to her. She knew she was probably being too gentle with House, but considering his state of mind earlier in the year, she felt justified. Not knowing what had precipitated his breakdown made her want to shelter him, protect him. It was difficult to take care of someone who wasn't interested in being taken care of, though. With that, she left him to his own devices, hoping he had the sense to do what he needed to do to take care of himself.
# # #
House breathed a small sigh of relief when Cuddy finally left. After Wilson's hovering earlier in the day, the last thing he wanted was one more person obsessing over his mental state. He was fine, fine enough to function, anyway. How long would it take for the people around him to just let him be himself, let him get back into his work groove?
The voice at the other end of the phone brought him back to the real world. "House? Are you there?"
"Yeah, I'm here." House continued to scribble notes on the whiteboard. "What's up?"
"Nothing much. Just wanted to see if you were free tonight."
House held the phone away from his ear, surprised by Anthony's words. "Jesus, obsess much?"
Anthony laughed self-consciously. "Sorry, didn't mean to bother you."
"It's cool. I'm still working, that's all."
"Ah." Anthony paced around his living room, suddenly worried that he moved on House too fast. "I'll let you go. Call me if you get a chance."
"Yep, I will." House responded absentmindedly and closed his phone, stuffing it in his pocket. He moved from the conference room to his office, pacing in frustration as the pain in his leg built from the long hours spent on it.
Thoroughly frustrated, he flopped down in his Eames chair, lifting his leg onto the footstool, rubbing the cramping thigh. Just as he got settled, his pager went off.
He pulled it out of his pocket, noting the code. "Shit." He muttered, and immediately heaved himself out of the chair, grabbing his cane and flying out of his office. Hopefully he'd make it before the patient crashed completely, and hopefully his team was busting their collective ass to bring her back from the brink.
# # #
House pushed his way into the patient's room, where Taub and Thirteen were frantically working over the patient that was in full cardiac arrest.
"What the hell happened?!" House threw his cane aside, limping heavily to the patient's side.
"I was hooking up her IV antibiotics, and she arrested." Thirteen spoke loudly over the beeping monitors.
House and the team worked around the patient, finally stabilizing her once again. He mentally noted more symptoms to add to the whiteboard once he got back to the office. He left the room, the team following quickly behind him.
They were soon sitting around the conference room table, debating symptoms, trying to connect everything. Voices started rising as the night wore on, and tempers started flaring, ending when their pagers went off once again.
House stayed in the conference room while the others flew down to attempt to stabilize their rapidly deteriorating patient. Soon House's phone chimed again, the familiar Hanson song cheerfully playing out of it.
"House."
"She's gone." Thirteen's soft voice carried through the phone.
"Dammit." House visibly sagged. "Arrange to have the body taken to the morgue. We'll figure it out during the autopsy."
House snapped his phone closed and started erasing his whiteboard, that painful feeling of failure washing over him. Taub and Foreman soon returned to finish the charting, somber expressions on their faces.
"I'm out of here. Leave the chart on my desk. I'll sign off on it in the morning." House collected his backpack and jacket, limping heavily to the elevator. Wilson was there waiting for him.
"What the hell are you still doing here?"
"Digging my way out of paperwork hell. You?"
House shrugged. "Just lost my patient."
"Sorry to hear it."
"Yeah, well." House looked down at the floor, feeling beaten and defeated. "Can't win them all, I guess."
"Right." Wilson glanced over at his friend. "You want to grab a pizza? Unless, of course, you have other plans."
House rolled his eyes. "No, no other plans. I'll probably just go home and pass out in front of the TV."
"Well…if you're sure…"
"I'm sure. Thanks anyway, Wilson."
The two men separated at the parking lot. "See you in the morning, House."
"Night, Wilson." House dug his phone out of his pocket before he climbed on his bike. He scrolled through his contacts, hitting the speed dial button. "Anthony? Yeah, it's House. Looks like my night just opened up."
# # #
House's eyes flew open when he heard the knock on the door. Funny, he didn't even remember closing his eyes. He rolled off the couch and stumbled to the door, unlocking and opening it.
Anthony stood there, hair in his eyes, looking a bit surprised at House's appearance. House's hair stuck up at all angles and he had a sleepy look, as if he had just woken up. Bare feet and lounge pants with the gray t-shirt he'd been wearing earlier completed the look.
Anthony's green eyes flickered with concern. "Everything okay?"
"Rough day. I fell out on the couch when I got home. Come on in. Pizza's on the way."
House flopped himself down on the couch, motioning for Anthony to join him. He quietly sat down, taking off his shoes, observing House.
He had to admit, he was at a bit of a loss when it came to House. He seemed to genuinely want companionship, if nothing else. Anthony wasn't sure what else might transpire over the course of the night.
House seemed to sense Anthony's discomfort, and broke into a small smile. "Relax. This isn't a booty call or anything."
"That's good to know." Anthony laughed a little at House's bold statement, sliding a little closer to House. "So why am I here?"
"Just wanted the company, I guess." House slumped down a bit. "Wilson offered, but I didn't feel like being drowned in sympathy tonight."
Anthony was a bit puzzled. "Why would he have done that?"
Oops. House had revealed a bit more than he planned. Well, to hell with it. He might as well know what he's dealing with. House exhaled heavily and turned to face Anthony.
"If you're going to spend any time with me, there's…a few things you should know." House spilled the story of his breakdown, his admittance to the mental institution, his release, and his return to work and the difficulty everyone had in readjusting.
Anthony regarded him with an arched eyebrow. "Any other skeletons in the closet I should know about?"
House twisted his mouth thoughtfully. "Nope, I think that about covers it. At least for now. I'll understand if you run away screaming now."
"Sorry, you're going to have to do better than that if you want to get rid of me." Anthony tentatively reached out to stroke House's cheek.
"Dammit. I'll have to come up with a better story, then." House stiffened up a bit, but didn't move away. A knock at the door made them both jump a little. "Probably the pizza."
"I'll get it." Anthony hopped up from the couch and started toward the door.
"Hold on." House pulled out his wallet, handing cash to Anthony.
Anthony paid for the pizzas and laid them out on the coffee table. They relaxed and ate, falling into the easy conversation they had found over lunch.
Finally they polished off the pizzas, and House relaxed into the couch, stretching out his neck before he did so.
Anthony tilted his head at House. "Turn around."
"What the hell for?"
"Just trust me."
House gave him a skeptical scowl, but turned around anyway. He felt Anthony's hands on his neck, gently working the knots that had built up there.
"You know, if you just wanted to get into my pants…" House grumbled, even as he relaxed under Anthony's touch.
"Not even in my plan. I'm a certified massage therapist."
House snorted. "Could you be a little more stereotypical? How many cats do you have?"
Anthony lightly tapped House on the back of the head. "Very funny. As it turns out, I'm allergic to cats."
House chuckled softly as Anthony moved from his neck to his shoulders, letting out a small rumble of approval. "Hmmm…is that even legal?"
"Smartass." Anthony continued moving down House's back, feeling the muscles release the tension they held. "Damn, I guess you did have a tough night."
"Patient died before we could figure out what was wrong with her."
"Sorry to hear it."
"It happens."
"Still sucks."
"Yeah." House fell silent, allowing Anthony to work down his back, feeling his hands slip under his shirt. "Watch it…"
"No funny stuff, promise." Anthony moved from the couch to the floor. "This will be easier if you take off your shirt and stretch out."
House regarded Anthony skeptically. "Yeah, right. I'm not an idiot."
"Didn't say you were."
"Fine." House scowled, but took off his shirt and stretched out, taking up the full length of the couch. "You so much as lay one finger on my ass and you're dead."
"Fair enough." Anthony returned to working on House's back, which was surprisingly well-built for his age. The right shoulder was significantly more built up than the left, probably due to leaning on his cane. "How long have you been using the cane?"
"Ten, twelve years. Why?" House mumbled, closing his eyes and letting Anthony's hands work over him.
"Just wondering. Your shoulder must get awfully sore from leaning on the cane." Anthony concentrated his efforts on the shoulder, feeling the mess of knots under the skin.
"Used to it now…OW." One blue eyeball glared at Anthony. "Easy there."
"Sorry. I'm not trying to hurt you." Anthony tilted his head at House. "Want me to stop?"
"Nope. Just take it easy. I'm a delicate flower, you know."
Anthony snorted. "Like hell. You're tougher than you think."
"Still not getting into my pants…not tonight, anyway." House smirked.
"Oh, you're funny." Anthony moved from House's shoulder to his back, and soon Anthony heard House snoring, his back rising and falling in gentle rhythm. He patted House, rising from the floor to sit on the coffee table, watching the older man sleep.
He reached out, placing a hand on House's head, lightly running his thumb over his hair. Now that he was relaxed, his rough face took on a softness that it didn't possess when he was awake. He looked almost child-like, and Anthony hated to disturb him.
Finally he rose, shaking House's shoulder. "Hey, Sleeping Beauty." House stirred in response, slowly opening his eyes. "You need to get to bed, and I need to get home."
"Right." House impulsively reached out, wrapping a hand around the back of Anthony's neck, bringing him down for a small kiss on his forehead. He released him, then rose to a sitting position, pulling his t-shirt back over his head.
He stood, stumbling briefly. "What the hell did you do, drug me?"
"Nope. That's how you're supposed to feel after a good massage." Anthony laced up his shoes and rose, moving toward the door. "Thanks for the pizza."
"Sure." House found his footing and followed close behind. "Thanks for…everything else."
"My pleasure." Anthony opened the door, suddenly feeling awkward, not sure how to respond to the brief kiss House had planted on him. "Well…good night."
"Night." House brushed Anthony's bangs out of his eyes, and he could feel those blue eyes burn through him. Finally Anthony leaned forward, pressing his lips to House's.
House seemed startled at first, freezing before relaxing into the kiss, pulling Anthony closer, deepening the kiss before finally pulling away.
Anthony arched an eyebrow at him. "Sure you haven't been smooching on guys?"
House smirked. "I never said I never did. It's just been…a long time."
"Okay…" Anthony snickered in response. "I'll see you around."
"See you."
House leaned on his door frame, watching the younger man leave, not closing the door until he heard the car start up and leave. For the second time in as many nights, he found himself surprised by his behavior. House knew only one thing for sure. If Anthony wanted to get together again, he was totally fine with it.
# # #
I've done my thing, now be so kind as to do yours. Read and review. :)
