Title: Never Another
Genres: Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, ANGST, romance
Rating: Past T, for language and later sexuality/adult situations
Season: Will jump around a lot from 1-8 and there will also be quite a few segments that
occur before Season 1, back when Wilson and House were much younger.
Warnings: The aforementioned adult themes, language, etc. Also, if you have not seen
Season 8 yet, or have not spoiled yourself with what happens, or are unaware of anything
from the season, please do not read this.
Disclaimer: I do not own this show. It belongs to David Shore, et al. I also don't own the songs that I use as openings to the snippets of my story-they belong to whoever I cite under the quotes.
Summary: AU in some places. I have changed some instances around so my idea could work. This story is an examination of the deep friendship of Greg House and James Wilson. The storyline is hardly chronological and I apologize if that is annoying to some readers. A lot of my AU will come from the early days of the doctors' friendship. If you continue to read as I continue to write, you'll see what I mean. There will never be another House and Wilson.
"Now think of all the years you tried to
Find someone to satisfy you
I might be as crazy as you say.
If I'm crazy then it's true
That it's all because of you
And you wouldn't want me any other way."
Billy Joel, 'You May Be Right'
Snippet #4:
2010
"Can we go now? I've had five cups. My belly's full and hot. I might throw up." He shut one eye in a contemplative way and stared down to the bottom of his cup. There was a small amount left. Just enough to make it sick should he choose to finish it off.
"Don't be a wimp, Wilson." House stirred another packet of fake sugar into his now room temperature coffee. "And 'bottomless cup' doesn't mean, 'James Wilson, Boy Wonder Oncologist, drink as many as possible in an hour.' We sip and enjoy." Almost to prove his point, he raised the porcelain mug to his lips and slurped loudly.
"Oh, please, you're only here because you're spying on someone!" Wilson tried to keep as quiet as possible, not that there were many patrons in the small coffee shop he and House stepped into hours ago. At first, it was fine. It was raining and a bit chilly outside. But after so many cups of coffee with different sweeteners and different flavored creamers, Wilson was ready to go. Or at least ready for a glass of milk or something other than coffee.
"Wilson, how long have we been...doing this thing?" House waved his hand around in attempt to grab words he didn't want to or feel like saying and hoped Wilson would get it.
"What, being friends?"
"And you still allow yourself to be surprised by my shit." House pointed his wooden stirrer at his only friend. Some liquid flung from it and touched Wilson's cheek.
Wilson sighed and hastily wiped his face clean. "I have had to deal with every level of your shit in all kinds of ways and-"
"Yeah, voluntarily, ergo, you have no right to bitch. You do this to yourself."
"And I guess you've never heard me on the multiple occasions that my theory of friendship is that we really don't get to pick and choose."
"That's only what losers say because no one has asked to be their friend. Now be quiet-I've missed so much of Philip Seymour Hoffman slash Robert Downey Jr.'s conversation." House returned his gaze to the man he had previously been 'spying' on, as Wilson put it. The man was a couple of tables away, laptop on and blasting a heinous glow, iPhone glued to his ear. Both electronics sucking up more electricity in the entire coffee shop than any kitchen appliance at work behind the counter.
"What?" Wilson turned halfway around in his seat and caught a glimpse of the man House was currently transfixed on, and then back to House. He didn't want to confirm the man looked like Hoffman dressed in laundry day clothes and shared identical speech pattern and vocabulary as Robert Downey Jr.'s Tony Stark.
House continued as though he didn't hear Wilson, like usual. Or maybe he really didn't hear. "Seriously, who talks on their phone for over a half hour and doesn't shut up once to listen to comments or questions from the other end?"
Wilson rolled his eyes to the point of pushing them out of his skull. "Here we go."
"Not one pause. Either he's talking into the voice recorder or he's really talking to someone else. There's a good chance its not the recorder. He's too candid. Apple software; I'm guessing business man."
Wilson dropped his palm flat on the small table. "Why?" His shoulder twitched with the syllaball in an annoyed shrug.
Completely avoiding Wilson's questioning once more, House perked up with a new observation, "Oop. James Mercer's taller, more-haired older brother just joined the table."
"Does he have a guitar? Is it a nice acoustic Gibson?" His tone presented false piqued interest.
"No way. This Mercer didn't luck out by talent like bald, little bro Jimmy."
"Is he dressed in beggar, ragamuffin clothes?"
"Sweaty black polo with a company logo stitched on, khaki pants that almost fit, and loafers that could be expensive, but probably purchased at a Macy's clearance sale. He's working for Hoff-Oh, my God. What a dick." He all but snickered at the last sentence.
"Yes, yes. What's happening?"
"Big Brother Mercer walked up to Hoffman to say hello-"
"Yes, yes?"
"And Hoffman stuck out a chunk arm and along with his bicep flap giving the room hot air circulation, he shoved his coffee cup in big bro's face, forcing him to get a refill. And didn't give him the money for it."
Wilson looked to the ceiling, deep in thought, before coming up with, "What person would do that? Besides you, I mean."
Houses's jaw dropped. Wilson couldn't tell if it was in sarcasm or sincerity. "I have never done that!"
"Oh, please, you opened a tab in the cafeteria under my name just so you could further mooch off me! And we both know the cafeteria doesn't open tabs!"
"Please! Giving you a lunch bill and allowing you to give back to the cafeteria is the least I could do for keeping you out of the big house because of that buck you stole from them. Seriously, you steal a measly buck and Taub gets to see Thirteen's tits? What kind of Truth or Dare player are you?"
"That was two weeks ago. Not only that, shut up." Wilson drank from the dregs of sugar at the bottom of his cup. "What's going on with Robert Downey Jr.?"
House scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Philip Seymour Hoffman. I told you he only sounds like Robert Downey. Must have gone all The Little Mermaid and stole his voice. We all know he shares Ursula's pant size."
"And stuffed the voice in the sea shell he's wearing as a secret necklace under the folds of his shirt, no doubt."
"I knew you wouldn't be able to stay away."
Wilson spared a look for the check out counter. "Oh, my God. He has the same forehead and eyebrows as James Mercer!"
"Told you."
"He's coming back."
"Well, quit staring! Oi, can't take you anywhere!"
Wilson gave the most incredulous look he could muster. "Are you-"
House went into a fake coughing fit, loud and juicy enough to cause what patrons were in the cafe to turn their full blown attention to him. Big Brother Mercer looked down at the both of them, stepping back slightly out of the supposed germ zone.
"Excuse me, little sir. You see, I've run out of coffee and I have a bum leg. And since you seem to be THAT GUY who's currently making sure everyone gets their refills, here's my cup." He started waving the mug back and forth in the man's face.
The man narrowed his eyes at the sitting doctor. "There's still coffee in here."
"But its cold and hurting my tummy. I'm a doctor-I'd hate to throw up all over everyone whenever I decide to go back to work."
The man grabbed the mug and sat it down on House and Wilson's table and went back to Philip Seymour Hoffman/Robert Downey Jr.
"I'm ready to go if you're finished embarrassing yourself in public for the day." Wilson's voice cut in and House finally tore his attention away from the business men across the way.
"You're not the dad of me! I do what I want!" He slurped loudly from his mug once more before standing and leaving the cafe with it.
