Title: Mending a Broken Man
Disclaimer: Angst, slash and language.
Chapter Twenty-nine: When I Call Your Name
The breeze caressed his skin as one by one the stars came out to play. Night had fallen over New Jersey and House was standing outside his office enjoying the escape. He hadn't been able to think about anything but the patient lying in that bed. He wished the man would go away and never come back. He wished that he had never come at all. There were things in his past that House didn't want to remember, things that he thought were gone. Now here was this person that he'd gone to school with, that he'd….He closed his eyes, forcing the thoughts from his mind. He wanted to think about something besides his past. He knew that the best way to get rid of Jacob was to cure the man. But his symptoms of chills, fever, headache, and muscle pain could have been from any number of diseases. Cameron and Foreman were running tests to narrow it down but that could take days. If only he could give the man some antibiotic and get him on the road again. He knew that it was only a matter of time until secrets from his past began to filter out.
He hoisted himself up so that he was sitting on the little wall, his legs dangling freely. Below him people milled about the parking lot and entrance of the hospital. He watched as Chase left for the day. No one knew it but House was worried about the doctor. After nearly dying Chase had undergone a slight change. He no longer stayed late at work, for one thing, and House wondered if that was because he still didn't feel a hundred percent better. Who was he to blame him though? He hadn't been feeling all that great the last few days. In two days he had gone through an entire bottle of Vicadin. His leg was throbbing something fierce but he was actually afraid to get his prescription refilled. It would prompt Wilson to ask questions, maybe even worry him and that was the last thing House wanted to do.
In the distance he heard the blare of a car horn and wondered if there would be an accident. It was times like these that he was actually happy to work in the clinic, to escape his daily job. It gave him an out and he was going to start using it tomorrow. Let the sheep figure out what was wrong with the guy. He didn't want to set foot in that room again. He didn't want to see Jacob.
"Would you get down from there before you fall?" Wilson said as he came out of his office.
House looked over at him. "The view is amazing from here, much better than being on the other side of the wall."
"Please."
"All right, but only because you asked," House said. He swung his legs back over the wall and planted them firmly on the floor. "Is that better?" He was still leaning back against the wall, taking as much pressure as possible off his leg while trying not to look as though he were in pain.
"Much better," Wilson smiled. He hopped over the small wall between their balconies and stood before House. "So, did you talk with you patient today?"
He tried not to frown. "Yes."
"Foreman says he's someone from your past."
"Foreman has a big mouth."
Wilson actually frowned. "I take it that you don't want to discuss it. Fine. How about we head home? I just have to file a few things, should take no longer than five minutes, and we can be out the door. Sound like a plan to you?"
"Sounds like a plan to me," House said after reading his watch. It was early enough in the evening that they could enjoy some time together before falling into bed and giving themselves over to slumber. He wondered what they would do with those few hours as he limped painfully into his office.
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Outside a car went by, the sound of tires on a slick road from recent rain. Wilson wished that the weather would make up its mind. One minute it was cold and snowing, the next it was cool and raining. Winter either needed to settle in or forget about showing up at all. He yawned, placing a hand over his mouth. Something had awakened him and he wasn't quite sure what it was. After coming home with House they'd spent a few hours enjoying each others company before going to bed earlier, both of them mentioning that they felt tired. And now here he was, wide awake at midnight and not entirely sure why. What had pulled him from the depths of his deep sleep?
And then the answer came to him.
Beside him House muttered something under his breath. Wilson wasn't able to make out the words but he was quick to realize that House was still asleep. Talking in his sleep. He frowned. He couldn't recall any other time that House had done such a thing. Usually the doctor slept surprisingly quiet for someone with a bad leg. He mumbled again, this time twitching a little. Had it been anyone else Wilson might have been slightly amused, but he knew House and he knew that this wasn't normal behavior. It worried him for reasons he couldn't quite place his finger on. House had a semi-violent spasm as he reacted to whatever was going on in the dream he was having. Wilson reached out and placed a hand gently on House's arm.
"Greg, wake up," he said. House continued to mumble incoherently in his dreams. Wilson knew that it was bad to wake a sleep walker, he wondered what the affect would be like to wake someone so incased in a dream. "Greg," he called a bit louder, shook a bit more forcefully. If this kept up he wouldn't get anymore sleep and tomorrow's work would suffer.
House stirred but still did not awaken.
Not wanting to spend who knows how long trying to wake him by calling his name, Wilson bent over his sleeping partner and planted one on him, their lips brushing together in a kiss. Within a few seconds House was pulled from his dream and responding in kind. Wilson pulled away, getting a look of hurt from the doctor.
"Sorry, but you were having a bad dream and no matter how many times I called your name you wouldn't wake up," Wilson explained. "Do you want to talk about it?"
"About what?"
"The dream."
House shook his head.
"Are you sure? You were talking in your sleep, Greg. You don't usually do that."
"Maybe tomorrow," House said before he rolled onto his side, his back to Wilson.
The oncologist sighed, then excused himself as he got up to go to the bathroom. He wasn't in there that long but by the time he came out he realized that House was already sound asleep again. He pulled back the blanket and crawled back into bed, cuddling up close to House, wrapping an arm around his waist. The wonder of House's nightmare was no longer on his mind. It was forced out of the spotlight by what Wilson had seen in the bathroom.
The blood in the sink.
