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CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT: She Ruined Me with Her Signature
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"I can't believe I forgot my phone charger." Wilson said out loud but mostly to himself as he worked on opening the plastic packaging that held a newly purchased charger. "But you know, you can never have enough chargers, they're so easy to lose." Bonnie didn't say anything as he brushed her dark black hair and listened to her husband go on about a phone charger.
Once getting it free of it's packaging, Wilson untwisted the ties around the cord and unraveled it before digging into his pocket and pulling out his dead cell phone. It didn't take long to find a free outlet. He plugged everything in and turned on his phone as he went to change into his sleeping attire, but the sound of his phone chiming about new messages put his clothes on hold.
Taking a peek at the screen he noticed he had three messages. Not knowing exactly who they were from, he pushed the enter key and brought the phone up to his ear to listen. "You have three unheard messages, Message one, Saturday, 3:25pm: 'Why the hell aren't you answering your phone? You're not answering your home phone, your cell...'" Brown eyes grew wide with fear with a quiet gasp escaping his lips.
At that moment, Bonnie turned to him.
"James, what's wrong?" He didn't answer his mouth was slightly open, his eyes wide as he tried to take everything in that House was saying. At that moment, Wilson knew it was bad. Dr. Greg House doesn't lower himself to plead for help unless he's suddenly swallowed his pride... Greg House never swallows his pride.
In the message House hangs up and Wilson feels the hair on the back of his neck stand up. This was bad, really, really bad. "Message two, Friday, 2:52am: "Dr. Wilson, it's Cuddy. I don't know if you know what's going on here but if you get this you should come back to Princeton, it's House. He's had an infarction in his right thigh and refused to have the leg removed, only the clot. He needs to remove the leg; you're the only one he'll listen to. He's already gone into cardiac arrest once. Call me when you get this."
"James?"
He quickly held up a hand as if to tell her to hold on with Bonnie shrugging it off and continuing on brushing her hair. He took a deep breath as he tried to hold onto his emotion and keep a firm grip on the phone that his hands threatened to lose hold of. He was afraid to hear the third message. "Message three, Friday, 4:26pm: "James? Hi, it's Stacy. I would have called a lot sooner, but I've been so busy with Greg, he's in the hospital.. God, I wish he wasn't so stubborn! He's killing himself and he refuses to stop it! I was calling because I need someone to talk to.. I.. I think I might know how to get him to have the surgery he needs.. He needs to have his leg removed but he refuses up and down. He's been talking about being put in a coma so he can sleep through the pain. Well, if he's asleep and can't make medical decisions, that means I can make them for him.. Right? I need to talk to someone about this. You know him better than most people..I'll try back later."
Wilson couldn't move. He couldn't even get himself to hang up the phone. House was in the hospital.. He's had an infarction.. He's killing himself.. Stacy's had some plan that was probably going to result in more bad than good. Finally when he forced himself to move he immediately dropped his phone onto the carpeted floor getting Bonnie's attention once again.
"James, what's wrong?" She turned around in her chair and saw that look on her husband's face. Whatever it was it was serious.
Wilson slowly bent over to retrieve the phone before finally met Bonnie's concerned gaze. "Wha?" His mind was still fuzzy.
"Who was that?"
He shook his head to get himself back to reality before looking at her again. "It's House." He knew he needed to leave and now. At that moment he needed to do ten things at one time and with him still not all the way there he started in one direction but stopped himself in favor for another task but stopped himself again.
"What does he want?"
He stopped, "Bonnie.. I'm sorry I have to go."
She sighed, irritated. "He needs you to open a jar or something?"
He shot her a glare, "He's in the hospital, something really wrong with his leg..."
"He doesn't need you by his bedside about his leg does he?" She was very annoyed. Leave it to House to have something wrong with him when she had finally gotten Wilson out to her parents out for a week. A few days in and House pulls that invisible leash that seemed to be tied around her husband's neck.
"Bonnie, this is serious!" He yelped and quickly went about grabbing all this things and tossing them into his open suitcase.
"James!"
"I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I. Have. To. Go." She folded her arms in protest but didn't push it farther. She just made sure to make a note of it and to hate House even that little much more. That didn't mean Wilson was off the hook either.
As quickly as he could he tried to get everything he needed together and into his suitcase. Not having time to be as orderly as possible he just settled for tossing everything into his bag and only hoped that he was able to close it when all was said and done. He also pulled on his shoes and grabbed his phone and charger as well as called a taxi. Sure, the phone only had good ten or so minutes to charge, but it was enough to get him by if he didn't use it too much. He was sure he could find a power outlet at the airport.
Once finished, he held his bag and went to Bonnie who was washing her face for bed. "I'm going, tell your parents I'm sorry and that if was nice to see them again." He placed a peck on her temple. "I'll call you when I get there." She didn't say anything. Wilson only sighed, "Bye."
She wasn't in the mood to talk to him. She didn't understand why a man like James would even choose to be around him much less bend-over backwards to his every whim. "Damn Greg House." she muttered angrily to herself.
--
Once situated in the cab Wilson called Cuddy to see about what was going on. She explained about everything that happened from the golf course to the middle ground surgery that House was nearly finished in. He didn't know that Cuddy was leaving about one very important detail about Stacy's sneaky plan, but she really didn't think it was that important at that moment.
He simply assured her that he was on his way and that he should be there in no time being that he was headed for the airport as they spoke and that he was willing to pay whatever price was being offered to fly into Newark.
"Good..He's going to need a friend when he wakes up. He'll be happy to see you."
The comment seemed a little strange, but Wilson didn't try to dig deeper into it. Wasn't Stacy there to be his support? Whatever was going on he knew he would find out when he got there. Right now he found it best to keep his mind on getting back to Princeton as quickly as he could.
--
It was 1:30am when Wilson raced into PPTH and rushed into an elevator to find his friend. It didn't take long until he found Cuddy chatting with Morrison, on of the hospital's best surgeons. "Hey, is he awake yet?" He asked close to being out of breath.
She shook her head, "No, not yet, but it should be pretty soon."
"Where's Stacy? Is she with him now?"
He didn't miss that look on her face. "No, she's in the bathroom… she's..not ready to face him just yet. She's still upset about having to sign off on the surgery. She saved his life."
"Do you want me to go talk to her?"
"No, it's best if he doesn't wake up alone. I'll go talk to her, you go to his room: it's 438." He gave a quick nod and did as he was told. When he reached the room he quietly pushed the sliding door, stepped in and took a hard swallow at the sight of his friend. In just a few days the poor guy had been to hell and back and was still holding on. He hated seeing House worn so thin. He took a seat at the chair next to the bed and simply waited.
About ten minutes of silence and Wilson absentmindedly messing with his wedding ring, it was the sound of rustling sheets that caught his attention. His first reaction was to get Stacy but he quickly sat back down in his chair. It was best someone be around when he finally woke up. It didn't take long for blue eyes opened and blinked once or twice before turning to see if anyone else was in the room.
When he caught sight of Wilson sitting next to him a slow but genuine smile made its way on his face. "Hey."
Wilson smiled back, "Hey."
"Look what happened, Jimmy," He spoke in a quiet raspy voice, "the second you leave everything goes straight to hell." He let out a weak chuckle, but when he turned to Wilson again he was unnerved by that look of worry on his friend's face. "What are you so sad about? I'm alive, aren't I?"
But it was the overall look of sadness and worry that now shown on Wilson's face that made him start to worry. What was it now? Was he bleeding?
"Is something wrong with my face?" He asked as he reached up and felt to make sure nothing was out of the norm. It was obvious that Wilson was trying hard to suddenly hide his worry.
He shook his head, "You're face is fine. You look like shit, but other than that it's fine."
"Then what's got you so upset?"
Wilson stared baffled at how oblivious he seemed. "The surgery..?"
"Removing the clot? What about it, you should know that's nothing to worry about. Jeez, Jimmy, you call yourself a do –"
"No, the other surgery."
"–ctor…what other surgery?" House stared at him suspiciously as Wilson stared back with that same worried expression. He slowly pulled his eyes from his friend over to the sheet of his bed. Everything looked alright enough; he could plainly see the shape of two legs under the sheets. Sure his leg hurt, not as much as it did before, but it did hurt and actually at the moment just about everything hurt, especially his chest. When he turned back to meet Wilson's gaze what he saw in those brown eyes scared him. His expression cried that he was at a complete loss.
House didn't know; he didn't realize it yet. He didn't know the surgery took place... he didn't know they cut out part of his thigh.
He knew something was terribly wrong. He couldn't really feel that much pain, it wasn't as extreme as like what he was feeling before they put him in the coma, but if anything, Wilson should be happy. Curiously he pulled himself up into a sitting position, picked up the bed sheets and saw the bandages over his thigh. They didn't... They wouldn't...
Quickly with no regard, House ripped off the bandage revealing his newly mangled thigh stitched up and less what it was before he went to sleep. "House, don't!" Wilson yelped and jumped like he was going to stop him but decided against it. He had to find out somehow. It was best he found out his own way.
"What the hell.." He trailed off as he started absently at his leg. How could they do this to him? How could they go behind his back and do this to him? How could they betray him? With a shaky hand he reached out to touch it. There was no way this could be real.. this had to be a very, very bad dream.
When his fingers met the angry red stitches he flinched not from the pain but the feeling of it. It was real, this was no nightmare. This was reality at its worse. Shocked and scared blue eyes turned to Wilson for an explanation.
"House, listen –"
"I told them no.." he turned his attention back to his thigh and touched it again. "I only wanted to sleep through the pain. That's it!"
It was becoming obvious by the tone of his voice that House was starting to get over the shock and was heading right into rage. "Listen, she was only doing what she thought was right! She was trying to save your life!" He quickly shot up from his chair to grab some fresh bandages.
"WHAT THE FUCK DID THEY DO TO ME?!" House roared furiously at Wilson. "WHY THE HELL DIDN'T YOU STOP THEM?!"
He quickly spun around to face him. "Hey! I wasn't here!" he shot back, "Don't go blaming this on me!"
"I DIDN'T FUCKING ASK FOR THIS!! I DIDN'T WANT ANYTHING REMOVED!!"
"THEN STOP TAKING IT OUT ON ME DAMMIT!!" He shouted back defensively before he took a deep breath and tried to regain his lost composure. "And stop picking at your stitches! Here, let me wrap it back up before you end up doing more –"
"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!!"
But he quickly lost it again. "GREG! I'M YOUR FRIEND!! I'M NOT TRYING TO HURT YOU!"
Of course, it didn't take long before Cuddy rushed in to see what all the commotion was about. "What's going on here?!"
"YOU!" He snapped, "HOW FUCKING DARE YOU! YOU KNEW WHAT I FUCKING WANTED!! YOU KNEW I DIDN'T WANT THIS!! I'M GOING TO SUE THIS DAMN HOSPITAL FOR EVERYTHING!!" He roared at Cuddy, who didn't bother to hide the look of shock on her face.
His face was red from all his yelling and furry. He was a force to be reckoned with. "Stacy was your proxy!! She signed the forms to do the surgery!!" Right as the words left her mouth he froze as he narrowed his eyes and furrowed his brows in confusion.
"What.. What did you say.." he asked cautiously. There's no way he heard her right.
Cuddy gave a nod and replied sadly, "Stacy signed the papers after you were given the drugs. She okayed the surgery." He sat there in a daze. There's no way she would have done something like that.. There was no way she would condone something that he didn't want. She knew what he wanted.
I love you.. I'm sorry.
Suddenly it all came crashing down. When Wilson said she he automatically thought he was referring to Cuddy..not Stacy. He couldn't believe it; she planned it from the beginning, she signed those forms the second he closed his eyes. She betrayed him; with one little scribble of a pen she was able to take it all away. No longer was he Greg House, the brilliantly handsome doctor.. but the guy everyone pitied because of his limp.
He felt cheated.
He quickly brought his hands to his face and let out a loud yell before shouting out furiously, "FUCK OFF!! ALL OF YOU!!"
"GREG, CALM DOWN!" Wilson demanded loudly. Maybe Cuddy was right; he may be the only one he'll listen to.
"FUCK YOU, WILSON!!" …maybe not. "YOU'RE NOT THE ONE WHO'S MISSING PART OF HIS FUCKING LEG!!"
"House, please calm down!" He ordered firmly with a softer tone. All this yelling was hurting his throat. Out of the corner of his eye he caught sight of Cuddy getting a hold of some sedatives.
"PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP, WILSON!!"
He took a deep breath before shaking his head. "Greg, please don't make me do this." He pleaded in a quiet but stern voice as he took the sedative from Cuddy. House should know better than anyone that he would sedate him in a heartbeat. If it was going to help him in anyway he was going to do it.
House wasn't going to call him on it.
"SHE RUINED ME!" He cried out before conceding with a defeated sob, "She fucking ruined me..!" He closed his eyes and turned his face up toward the ceiling, his expression pained and full of agony.
Wilson sighed and handed the sedative back to Cuddy before he walked over to the small table and retrieved the fresh bandages he had put down in the uproar. "I know… I know she did." He spoke softly as he calmly approached the bed. "I, I need to replace your bandages. Is that alright?"
"I don't care." Was his heartbroken reply.
Wilson pursed his lips and gave a small nod as he delicately set to work on rewrapping the exposed stitches. On seeing that Wilson had everything under control and that House was done lashing out for the moment, Cuddy left to tell Stacy that it would probably be best if she went home for the night. If House saw her he was going to rip her to shreds. He needed time to cool off.
--
Wilson watched the sleeping figure sadly. It wanted to think badly of Stacy for doing what she had... but he was stuck between what to think. Sure, she went behind his back and betrayed him as one would say... but he's alive. He's going to live. But he's going to have trouble with his leg... but he's alive.
That's all James kept telling himself. House was alive but that didn't seem to matter to the man himself. Stacy had gone home for the night after House woke up and discovered what had happened all behind his back. She couldn't handle House's vicious words and sharp remarks of betrayal just yet. Not after she had to make the tough decision in the first place to keep him alive.
It's hard to take such a lashing from the one you love and the man you saved after you've come so close to losing him.
So it was Wilson who was more or less sitting in watching House and making sure everything was alright and in the norm. The man himself was sleeping, and it was a soft whimper that had caused Wilson to put down the medical journal he was reading. Still asleep, it seemed House was having a nightmare of some sort.
Without thinking, Wilson reached out and placed his hand gently against House's face. It seemed to be what he needed, because a small moment later his distressed expression faded back to a peaceful one. "House... Greg," He whispered softly as he took his hand away, "I'm so sorry. I should have been here.. I shouldn't have let them hurt you like this."
He knew if House had been awake he would have fussed him about showing such sympathy. Then he'd been the one taking the lashing instead of Stacy. But if it did come to that it didn't matter. House could yell anything he wanted at him all he wanted.
He wasn't leaving again.
--
It was a good few hours later before Stacy returned to the hospital and everything went haywire very quickly. Right when she stepped foot into the room and right when House noticed he tore right into her as expected. So much for cooling off first. Wilson had never heard such hateful and cruel things come from that man's mouth before, sure he had said a few tings that he himself would never repeat.. but this was on a completely different level entirely.
He wanted her to hurt; he wanted her to be in as much pain as he was no matter how cruel it was.
Of course things started to get out of control and House had to be sedated as Cuddy work on consoling Stacy. Wilson knew he should help Cuddy, but he couldn't. As much as he didn't want to admit it out loud, he was just as upset as House was toward her. She had no right to take his life away like she had. He wasn't going to comfort her.. he was afraid that he was going to tear her down as well.
Though Wilson didn't want to leave, he knew he had to. It was 5:30am and he hadn't gotten much if any sleep sitting in that chair making sure to keep a close eye on his friend. Not wanting to venture far in case he was needed for anything he opted to sleep on the sofa in his office. He had done it a few times when he and Gina were fighting and didn't want to pester House for a place to sleep. Sleep wasn't that hard to find, but it didn't stay that way. Only about an hour or two passed before a nightmare dealing with he and House and the current events woke him and left him shaken and scared. In his mind he saw what the future was going to be like.. and the last thing is was was pretty.
He shot up from his position on the couch and out of breath. He could swear it still felt like he was holding onto him, begging him not do end it all. When he wasn't alone he was able to hold himself together and keep everything under control and in check, but behind the closed doors of his office mixed with a very bad dream it was a different story. When he felt it he tried so hard to stay strong and to not let his emotions take hold of him, but it was no use. Even as he bit the side of his mouth to try and stop it he couldn't it was all too much. Once that sob managed to escape it was all over. Next thing he knew he was sitting on the couch of his office with his legs pulled off the floor as he cried.
Sure, he felt like a fool crying alone in his office but he couldn't help it. His best friend in the world, most probably the one person who knew him better than anyone else (even Michael) had almost died while he was gone, and if that wasn't enough he was most probably going to be in pain for the rest of his life. Everyday he was going to see the pain in those sad blue eyes that he could have possibly prevented had he not let Bonnie talk him into leaving.
He also knew he was starting drift from rational thought into the irrational. He knew he didn't know what was going to happen, and that none of this was his fault.. but that didn't stop him from feeling guilty.
Suddenly all at once he felt like the worst friend in the world.
Knowing he needed reassurance he pulled out his phone and speed dialed the one person he knew he could talk to about anything in the world. "Jack speaking."
Wilson furrowed his brows and quickly tried to calm himself down. "Dad?" He sniffed. That wasn't right. He must have hit the wrong speed dial command.
"Jim, is that you? What's wrong?" Jack's voice was filled with concern. He never heard his son sound like this before.
Wilson wiped his eyes and sniffed again, "Sorry, I was trying to call Michael.."
"What's up?"
"I.. I needed someone to talk to…" for a moment he thought about just hanging up the phone without explaining. He didn't like talking to his father about House, he was always so afraid he might let something slip, but just hanging up on Jack wouldn't make the situation any better. "House, er.. Greg is in the hospital." As he got the words out he felt his emotions run wild once again leaving him in tears trying to explain everything that happened within the past week to his father.
Mixed with tears and the quick speed at which his son was talking Jack only understood about half of what Wilson was trying to explain. He was at least able to make out that they were both at PPTH. After a little more was said, Jack let his son go as he requested.
Wilson felt a small bit better but nervous all the same. He knew his father was one of the men who thought there was no shame in tears.. but that didn't mean he felt the same. He felt like a fool crying on the phone while talking to his father.
He was heartbroken. Not only had his friend almost died, this was something that was probably going to bother him for the rest f his life, and not only that his girlfriend went behind his back and ordered the surgery even though she knew he would rather die than have it done. Every time he thought about his friend the more the pain in his heart grew.
A good fifteen minutes went by as he on the couch in tears. In an effort to try and stop himself he clenched the muscles in his jaw to quell his tears. It felt like it was working.
A few seconds later there was a knock at the door. He knew he looked like a mess, but he had reason. And there was no way he was going to clean himself up in two seconds. "Come in." Slowly the door opened revealing a familiar face. "Dad?"
"Hey, Jim. How are you?" Wilson tried to smile, but anyone could see that it was forced.
"What are you doing here?" he quickly tried to wipe away his tears. Having his father hear him on the phone crying was one thing, to have the man see it in person made him feel like a disgrace.
Jack walked in as Wilson moved his legs from the couch and onto the floor to give his father a place to sit. Jack took the offered seat. "I was actually in the area when you called. I had just finished lunch with an old colleague of mine." He reached out and gave his son a friendly and comforting pat on the back before keeping his hand on his shoulder. "How are you feeling?"
Jack didn't have to explain exactly what he meant by the question, Wilson lived with this man long enough to understand what he was up to.
"I'm fine… I'm just.. upset." He sighed, "and disappointed."
"Who are you mad at, Jim?"
"Myself."
"You didn't do this to Greg, why are you mad at yourself?" Wilson thought his father should have followed through with his schooling to be a psychologist, but on second thought, it might be a good thing he hadn't.
"I wasn't here."
"That's why you're disappointed too?"
"No, I'm disappointed because after they put him in a coma, Stacy turned around and told the doctors to do the surgery. She shouldn't have done that.. gone behind his back. She should have done what he said."
Seeing that his son was starting to become upset, he tried to see if talking about medical things would possibly help keep him calmed. "What did they do? The procedure, that is."
"Well, House had an infarction in his right thigh muscle... a clot caused an aneurism that led to the muscle in his thigh to die and was excruciatingly painful, so much so the pain alone could have killed him.. but there was a procedure that came up. The Middle Ground they were calling it. Where they would take out the dead muscle and he would get to keep his leg and live. He didn't want that. He wanted to be able to walk and live as he did before. So he asked to be put in a medically induced coma, so he could pass that part and not be in so much pain. But when they put him out, Stacy turned around and told the doctors to do the procedure. He wasn't going to do it! He didn't want to!!"
Jack could see his son was upset, he didn't agree with Stacy's actions one bit. Wilson respected other people's decisions to no end. So, if House wanted to take that risk, his son wouldn't have gone against it. "If the doctors knew he didn't want to procedure done, how were they able to do it?"
Wilson took a deep breath to try and calm himself down. He may have been able to stop crying, but he knew it wasn't going to take much to get him started back again. "She was his medical proxy. So, when he was asleep and unable to make decisions for himself she jumped on the chance and ordered the surgery." He reached back and rubbed the back of his neck. "I heard someone described it once," Wilson said softly, Jack could hear him chocking up again. "They said it feels like someone taking a red hot iron poker and pushing it deep into the affected area. That's all day. Every second of everyday until he dies!" James pulled his hands to his face but kept on even passed the tears. "He's going to be in excruciating pain for the rest of his life! And painkillers will just barley be able to take the edge off!" He was trying his hardest not to cry, even biting the inside of his mouth again. "I should have listened to him. I shouldn't have gone on that trip! I could have helped him figure it out sooner!!"
"James, listen. I know you feel bad, but think about how Stacy feels. She's the one who ordered the procedure." He draped an arm around his son's shoulders again. "The pain you're feeling probably doesn't even come close to hers."
But that didn't help. "Yeah. He wants nothing to do with her at the moment. She betrayed him."
"In a way, you should be thankful you weren't here." Wilson turned to his father with an appalled look.
"W-what?"
"What would've you done had you been in her shoes?" Wilson looked to the floor as his mind tried to think, but he found that increasingly hard. "Would you have guaranteed his life and had the surgery done or would you have sat it out and left it all to chance?"
"I..." he swallowed hard. Again, he hated crying but what he hated even more was crying in front of his father. Even though his father was the type of man to say there's no shame in crying, it still made him feel less a man for it. "I.. wouldn't have betrayed him."
"Even if that meant he could die?"
"It was his decision! It was up to him whether he wanted to have his muscle removed or not!" Wilson yelled angrily. "It was his decision if he wanted to be in pain the rest of his life!!" He was upset with her too; she shouldn't have gone behind him back like that; she should have listened to what he wanted. If House was going to die, he was going to die the way he wanted and not be in the pain he was in and was going to be in for the rest of his life.
In Wilson's mind she hadn't done him a favor, she only brought his misery.
He'd probably wish he were dead.
"And what would you have done had he died?"
"Worse."
Jack stood and grabbed the box of tissues from Wilson's desk and handed the box to his son. "And why's that?"
"Because I would have been in Maine, oblivious to everything and I wouldn't have been able to say goodbye." All this stuff was tearing his son up inside. But he needed Wilson to see that she had her reasons and he shouldn't hold that big a grudge.
Wilson wiped his nose. "But this is about if you had made the decision, if you were at his bedside from the beginning."
James thought about it before turning back to him father, "Would I be able to say bye?"
"And whatever else you wanted to say."
This was a bad choice of words for that moment. Wilson would do anything for House because of how much he loved him, and he thought that Jack may have known that even then. Jack taught his sons honesty above all else, so if he asked, this son would tell him just about anything.
Even if it was hard.
"I would have hurt for a while... a long while. But I know I would have done the right thing... I would have done the right thing." Jack patted his son's back.
"He's in pain, but he is coherent now if you want to see him. He wants to see you." And with that, Jack stood.
"You went see him?"
He nodded. "Yes, I thought I should pay the man a visit. I mean, he's been your best friend since med school it seems. Soon enough the man might as well be another son." Wilson absently let out a chuckle. "How's Bonnie?"
"Fine," Wilson sniffed and wiped his eyes. "Pissed at me for leaving her parents' for House... but she's fine."
He nodded. "In that case you should come and stay home until she gets back. It'd be nice to see you. And it would please your mother."
Wilson smiled. "Thanks. I'll be over later."
Jack gave a small nod and left.
Yep, he thought, Should have been a psychologist.
--
Wilson quietly walked into the patient room to find House lying back in bed with a pained expression as he fought to keep his cool with all the pain he was currently faced with. House turned at the sound of a sniffle.
"You've been crying." House groaned as his blue eyes caught sight of Wilson's red and puffy ones.
"No, I haven't." he scoffed and tried his best to resist the urge to sniffle again.
House didn't believe him.
"You wanted to see me?" He nodded. "What about?"
"It hurts." He let out in a hushed voice as if he didn't want anyone but Wilson to hear him. Brown eyes stared sadly. "None of the nurses will give me anything more to help with it."
Wilson bit his lip, "So, you want me to help you out?" he asked as he picked up the chart hanging at the end of the bed. The last thing he wanted to do was give him too much of something. House nodded timidly. After he scanned over everything Wilson deemed it okay to gave his aching friend a little more morphine.. and besides, with what he's gone though within the past few days he more than definitely deserved it.
House watched sadly as Wilson pulled out a set of keys and unlocked the control panel for the device controlling how much morphine he was given in his IV, and knocked it up a few more notches. House gave a small smile as he closed the panel back up and turned to him.
After a few minutes it was obvious that House was fighting to stay awake from the morphine and whatever sedative that still lingered in his system. Blue eyes looked up sleepily up at him. Wilson had bit bite the side of his tongue to keep from reacting. He watched as a tongue ran over chapped lips. "What have they done to me, Jimmy?" He asked meekly as he tried desperately to keep his eyes open to watch his friend. "I told them not to."
"Someone made a really bad decision." He answered sadly and absently messed with keys in his hands.
House blinked hard when his eyes tried to roll into the back of his head. Wilson knew it wasn't long until he passed out. "You mean Stacy." He corrected.
"Yeah.."
The two of them became quiet for a short while. Wilson had thought House had probably fallen asleep, but when he glanced back up he found that not to be true. "You won't leave me, will you?" he breathed in a hushed whisper. Wilson held back the gasp in his throat. He knew House may not even remember this small bit of conversation for how close he was to falling asleep and how hard he was trying to fight it, but he answered him nonetheless.
"I won't leave you." He replied just as quiet. Without so much as a thought, Wilson leaned in and placed a soft kiss against House's temple. Blue eyes looked up with a small smile before finally settling down to go back to sleep. Wilson sat back down in the chair and let out a sigh as he watched over his sleeping friend.
Back from his trip to the bathroom and with a thoughtful expression, Jack turned from the open doorway of the patient room and made his way down the hall in the direction of the elevator.
