Chapter 12:
The night passed silently with Wilson sleeping deeply while House slipped between slumber and watching the oncologist. He knew he should be sleeping but he really just didn't feel like it so he settled for watching his friend sleep, making sure to keep an eye out for signs of distress from him.
When he was awake, he scanned his lover's face repeatedly in an attempt to memorize every bruise, every scratch, and every stitch. He wanted to have a visual memory of what he'd done so that if he ever questioned his decision, he could remember the image of the he loved broken and hurting to give him renewed determination.
It was hard, because every time his eyes swept across the sleeping man's features, the more he wanted to drown his sorrows in a bottle. But he made a promise to Wilson and he was going to keep this one.
Wilson woke up around seven am, not quite bright eyed and bushy-tailed but not nearly as groggy as he normally would be. He looked to his left to find House sleeping awkwardly in the chair next to the bed, his feet on top of Wilson's bed. Deciding that it would be best to wake his friend up and get him to sleep at home (or at least on a different surface), Wilson grabbed the bed controls and sat the head of his bed up.
The movement caused his side, hip and shoulder to flare with pain but he managed to keep the groan in and settled for scrunching up his face. Gingerly, he reached over and shook the diagnostician awake. "Hey." He greeted as his friend gave him an annoyed glare.
House grumbled his response while he shifted his aching body off Wilson's bed and into a more upright position. He grimaced when pain seared through his thigh then took out his Vicodin. Hesitating only for a second, he popped two in his mouth. He studied the man in the bed. "How long has it been since the meds wore off?" He asked after he'd finished his inspection.
"Not long. I'm fine." Wilson responded softly. He could tell something was bothering his friend and he wanted to try to be as reassuring yet normal as possible. "So, what was going on with Cameron and Chase yesterday?"
"Nothing," House answered with a sigh, "just a lover's spat."
Wilson frowned, "I didn't know they were lovers."
"They're not." House replied simply.
"Okay," Wilson said in a questioning tone.
"Well, I never said that the spat was between them." House quipped. At Wilson's frustrated and annoyed look, House continued, "Is this really what you want to talk about?"
Wilson cocked his head to the right. Something in House's tone as he asked that last question caught his attention. Quietly he sat, filtering through information and subtleties while he tried to figure out what was going on. His eyes widened and his heart picked up its pace when he finally realized what it was, "You're leaving today."
House averted his eyes but nodded the affirmative. He really didn't want to see the shock, hurt and fear in his lover's face at that realization. "Yeah, around lunchtime." He confirmed.
Wilson sat in his bed, stunned into silence. The rational part of him realized that House would be leaving almost immediately but the emotional side wanted to beg him to stay. He ignored the emotional side, not willing to give up a chance to be truly happy with his partner, and put on a brave smile that didn't reach his eyes. Since he didn't actually know what to say he reached out his hand and encompassed House's right with his then gave it a gentle squeeze, causing its owner to look up at him, "I will be here when you need me."
House rolled his eyes, though they both knew that he had tears welling up in them, "Could you BE anymore cheesy?" He mocked gratefully.
"Yeah, but I don't want to hug you." Wilson joked with a small chuckle.
"Thank God," House breathed.
Wilson gave House's hand another gentle squeeze but whether it was from wanting to give comfort or the pain that spiked through his side from the chuckle he couldn't hold down, didn't know. "You should go home; take a shower, get some real food and stretch your leg."
"I'm fine." House argued weakly.
"Yeah, I know but you still need to go home, take a shower, get some real food and stretch your leg." Wilson repeated. "I have this sneaky suspicion that you haven't been home since you made the decision to leave, so you also need to pack and get your apartment ready."
"Aren't you going to be staying in it when you leave?"
"Not right away. I'll probably end up going to my own rehab center for a few weeks for my hip before I'm released to go home." Wilson answered knowing that was more than likely what was going to happen.
Realization dawned on House, his blue eyes becoming brighter with it. Of course Wilson would be going to a facility for his hip. The man just had surgery on it a few days ago so he will need to learn the correct way to walk and how to do things on his own.
At that moment a nurse walked in carrying Wilson's breakfast. She placed the tray down on the bedside rolling table and began to check his vitals.
"You don't need to be here for this," Wilson prompted, "go home. I'll still be here when you come back."
House stiffly stood up, testing his leg before he made a move, and walked over to his friend. He leaned down and gently gave Wilson a kiss. "You better be." He joked before he strode out.
When House returned, Wilson was slowly making his way from the bed to the cushioned armchair in the room. House stood outside the room, observing his friend for a little while.
Wilson was walking a little easier today than yesterday though not by much. It was clear that each step was painful but he seemed to be more fluid with his movements. He sat down in the armchair with a tired grimace, his eyes showing exhaustion with a little bit of happiness.
House took that opportunity to walk in, duffel bag in hand. "Congratulations Grandpa, you made it!" He joked cheerily.
The nurse and orderly in the room took offense to House's comment but Wilson merely laughed, his left arm snaking around his side and bracing it. "Pot, meet Kettle," he said, gesturing to House when he mentioned the pot and himself with the kettle.
House gave an appreciative chuckle before pulling up the hard chair nearest Wilson's. They sat in comfortable silence for awhile, each staring at the other in study.
The meditative silence was broken by Wilson's room doors opening, admitting Chase and an orderly. "Are you ready to get up and move around some more?" The former asked happily.
Wilson offered a smile, "Sure, got to do it sometime right?"
Chase and the orderly both smiled before walking over to Wilson and offering their support in getting the patient up. He grimaced as he stood but once he was standing, the grimace faded followed by an intense look of determination.
House watched the three scuttle around the room slowly for a few minutes before Wilson conceded he needed to rest. He frowned at the familiar look of pain and exhaustion in the brown eyes but said nothing.
Chase helped Wilson get back into bed before he offered a nod at his boss and left as well. The oncologist settled back against the bed, closing his eyes and leaning his head back.
The diagnostician could see that the short trip around the room has exhausted his friend and therefore stays quiet while he waits for Wilson to fall asleep.
The next thing Wilson is aware of someone is gently shaking him awake. He groggily looks around to see House standing next to his bed with Cuddy behind him.
"Wilson." House beckons in a tone that is almost sat and pleading.
Wilson mentally shakes his head to clear the fog of sleep and stiffly shifts so that he's sitting up more. Somewhere in the back of his mind pain registers in his body but he's too busy noticing the look of 'Goodbye' on House's face to care.
"It's time." House simply says.
A million things run through Wilson's mind and it takes all his willpower not to say any of them. Instead, he settles for a small nod and an encouraging smile. It's stupid really, to be so desperate to save someone and not be able to let them go at the same time. He knew it would only be for a year at most but to Wilson that seemed almost an eternity. He can't remember the last time he'd been away from House that long since they'd met fifteen plus years ago.
House sat down on Wilson's bed, gently pulling him in for a hug before he pulled back away and stood up. Placing a soft, lingering kiss on Wilson's forehead he gave an awkward smile. "See you." He said.
"House," Wilson said, stopping House while on his way out the door.
"I know." House answered. And he did. He knew everything Wilson wanted to say and didn't have enough time for. He knew that Wilson would be there waiting for him when he got out and he knew that Wilson was there if he needed him. He knew that Wilson loved him and he knew that Wilson forgave him. "Me too."
At seeing the relief, love and understanding flitter across Wilson's face, House knew that the oncologist knew exactly what he meant as well. He walked out of the room as quickly as he could, effectively walking out of his lover's life for the next few months.
Rehab would suck like no other but if it meant that he would be able to keep Wilson in his life and only give him loving touches then he would do anything. Besides, it was only a few months.
There you go folks! The final chapter of this fic. Don't worry there will be a sequel called Recovering Faith starting soon. All things and I are starting to work on it so you shouldn't have to wait too long.
Thanks to all of you whom have stuck with this story though it may have been hard to read. I appreciate it and your reviews!
