Title: Mending A Broken Man

Disclaimer: Angst, slash and language.


Chapter Forty-Five: Let's Make Sure We Kiss Goodbye

House woke up Wilson when he got home. He wasn't trying to but the sound of the car door and then the apartment door closing were enough to rouse the sleeping oncologist. He came stumbling out of the bedroom with nothing but his boxers on, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He looked at House, taking in the clothes, the shoes. "Where have you been?"

"I couldn't sleep so I went for a drive. I needed to clear my head," House said, keeping his night visit to see Cuddy a secret. For some reason he didn't want Wilson to know about it. "Sorry that I woke you."

"The bed is cold without you," Wilson said.

House looked at his lover and noticed the dark circles under his eyes. Was Wilson looking paler than usual? He limped toward Wilson, resting his cane against the back of the sofa. He took Wilson's hand in his. "Let's go back to bed. There's a lot we need to talk about but I want a good night's rest first."

Wilson followed him back to the bedroom and watched him strip. They climbed into bed, pulling the covers high and House snuggled close to Wilson, wrapping his arms around him. But even as Wilson fell into a deep sleep House found himself, once again, unable to sleep. He was no longer worried about the issue of marriage. That had gone out the window as soon as he'd seen Wilson. Earlier that night the oncologist had seemed fine, even livelier than usual. But now it was clear that he was sick, anyone looking at him would be able to see it. And now that they didn't have any clothing between them he could tell that Wilson had lost more weight. Either it was a minor side-affect of the treatment or they were losing the battle.

Eventually House managed to fall asleep but his dreams were occupied by nightmares.

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When he got up in the morning Wilson was not in the bed with him. He closed his eyes momentarily before rolling over and tossing back the blanket. He could hear the sound of pots and pans in the kitchen. Looking at his clock he realized that they had at least an hour and half before they needed to be into work. They usually slept longer but it was evident to him that there was too much on their minds. There was a serious need to do some talking. He wanted to bring up the marriage issue again and ask Wilson to share the details of the cancer, even if things weren't going that well. Getting out of bed he threw on the same clothes he'd worn last night on his little trip to see Cuddy. She wouldn't say anything about his outfit. Hell, she probably wouldn't even notice that the Grateful Dead T-shirt was the one he'd worn to her place.

Out in the kitchen he found Wilson leaning against the counter top, his back to House. "Something wrong?" he asked, worried that maybe his lover was feeling sick.

But when Wilson turned to look at him he looked healthier than he had a few hours before. Maybe the hours of sleep had been good for him. "I need cheese and there isn't any. I wanted to make omelets but…"

House held up his hand. "Say no more. I'll go down to the store and get some. I shouldn't be more than five minutes." He slipped on his coat and grabbed his keys. He could see out the window that the streets were plowed and the snow had stopped falling. He'd finally be able to take out his motorcycle.

"Wait," Wilson said, House's hand on the doorknob. Wilson walked up to him and kissed him. It wasn't anything really special, just a soft brush of lips but it still sent a shiver down House's spine.

He bid Wilson farewell and headed out the door. He was happy to be able to enjoy his motorcycle, slipping on his helmet and thrusting the key into the ignition. The motor roared to life as he slipped his cane into the special holder. He would keep the trip to the store short so that he could get home with enough time to talk over breakfast. He really wanted to give Wilson his answer to the marriage question, and he wanted to do it before work. Pulling into the early morning traffic he headed down the street in the direction of the closest store. The light at the corner turned red and he slowed to a stop, thinking how weird it was that he was driving around before dawn to get cheese. Before he could dwell on it the light turned green and he eased into the intersection. But someone ran the red light. Or their car lost traction on the pavement. He wasn't sure which but he tried to avoid the vehicle barreling down on him, turning the front wheel of his motorcycle…

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Wilson covered his mouth as he coughed. He wasn't entirely sure but judging by the rattling in his chest he figured he'd come down with a case of pneumonia. He knew that the risks of chemotherapy made him more susceptible to infection and so far he'd been lucky not to get sick. It looked like his run of luck was up. When he got to the hospital he'd see about having a chest x-ray done to verify his diagnosis. He prayed that it was just pneumonia. In a worst case scenario he knew that it could be the cancer spreading. But he had high hopes that he would beat the nasty disease. He knew it better than anyone else. He worked with it every day and he knew the signs. His body was fighting and yesterday was proof to him that he was taking steps in the right direction. The sooner he treated his pneumonia the better off he would be.

He looked at the clock on the wall and frowned. If he recalled correctly House had left twenty minutes ago. The nearest store was two blocks away. Even with a bum leg it shouldn't have taken more than ten minutes to get their, buy the cheese, and get back home. Wilson was beginning to worry. The snow from the night before was plowed from the roads and he'd heard at least two plows go by in the last ten minutes so he knew the roads were treated to dissolve any black ice. Maybe House was only running late because he decided to buy more than cheese. He had mentioned something about wanting to talk before they went back to bed. There was any number of explanations for him to be late.

He started cracking the eggs into a bowl to mix them together. That way he could start the omelets as soon as House returned with the cheese. He knew that he could eat the eggs without cheese but they always made them taste better. And what was an omelet without cheese? He was cracking the fifth egg when the phone rang. He stopped, his heart skipping a beat. He was afraid to answer the phone. It rang again and again but he couldn't move, the broken shell all but forgotten in his hand. The phone kept ringing. He swallowed nervously, dropping the shell on the counter. He had to answer it. That was the only way he would know for certain that he'd been crazy to think that…

"Ello?" he said, picking up the phone.

He heard someone sniffle on the other end but it was in the distance, not from the person on the other end. "Wilson, you need to get to the hospital. There's been an accident." He didn't hear if anything else had been said because he was out the door before Cuddy had finished say 'accident'.