Chapter 15 - James Wilson

He didn't want to, but he had promised, so he picked up his cell phone and dialed the number he hadn't called in over a year.

He had promised House that he would try to call Cuddy and get her to meet. How he was going to do that was still not entirely clear to him. He hadn't thought of words and decided to just speak as soon as she answered the call. If she answered the call.

He hadn't spoken to her since House's outburst. She had moved away and he couldn't blame her, but that also broke their acquaintance. They weren't friends, but Wilson sat there in the silent expectation that she would resent his absence.

The humming of the line stopped, a woman's voice rang out.

"Cuddy," she answered, her tone immediately telling Wilson that she hadn't recognized his number.

"Hi, this is James Wilson," he said hesitantly. Now he wished he had at least come up with a few rough words, because his head suddenly went blank as he tried to explain his call.

There was no answer for a few seconds. Then she spoke again.

"Why are you calling?" Cuddy's voice sounded neutral. She certainly wasn't pleased that he called, but she didn't seem upset either. More importantly, she didn't hang up straight away, which gave Wilson hope.

"I, well..." he stammered indecisively to himself and swallowed hard. "I thought... we could meet again... It's been a long time..." He felt so terribly stupid even while he was saying this, but he couldn't think of a better excuse not to lose Cuddy's attention right away. He was sure that if he told her it was about House, she would hang up.

On the other end of the line, he heard her sigh heavily. She seemed to doubt his motives.

"It's been over a year since we met," she replied calmly. "You definitely don't just call to see old contacts again."

Wilson fidgeted for words.

"Why do you want to speak to me?" Cuddy chopped as the silence dragged on. Wilson sighed heavily.

"It's important," he said, his voice as urgent as he felt. He wasn't sure why it was so important to him that Cuddy would consent to a meeting. But it was important to House, and he didn't want to disappoint him by making no effort. He had promised to help him. He was grateful that his friend gave him a second chance and trusted him despite his initial dishonesty.

Wilson still couldn't believe it when he got into the car that evening and drove to the address Cuddy had given him on the phone. He was alone because at first she had only agreed to talk to him. They had decided to have a leisurely dinner in a simple café. Wilson had made the suggestion because if they met in person and he mentioned House, then she wouldn't be able to evade the situation as easily as on the phone.

House knew about their meeting, he had told him and explained that he wanted to talk to her alone first. To Wilson's astonishment, the former cynic had consented and was now sitting alone at home.

Gradually he had left the country road behind and turned into a parking lot that belonged to the café that Cuddy had finally chosen. She had chosen a place that was a lot farther away from New Jersey than from her new hometown, a small town with very few inhabitants. Wilson wondered if she didn't feel ready to go back to her old home just yet. Hadn't she yet overcome the emotional hurdles that the end of her relationship with House had put in her way.

When Wilson parked his car he sat there for a few minutes and looked into the distance. His heart was beating fast, he was excited, after all, he hadn't seen his former boss in a long time. He didn't know how her life had gone on, and she didn't know anything about his. Also, she didn't know about House's jail time or anything that came after that. How would she react when she found out that he had not lost his license to practice medicine and was practicing again? What would she say if Wilson told her that House couldn't remember anything because of an accident? At that moment, several questions robbed Wilson of the capacity to come to a clear thought. In the end, he had to force himself to get out of the car and enter the café.

Cuddy was already there. Wilson spotted her sitting at a table by the window and gazing out into the slowly darkening evening. She looked the same as always, her dunklen, curly hair tied in a braid. She wore a light-colored blouse and jeans with high heels, just as she used to dress. It was almost as if the last year had never happened.

Quietly clearing his throat, he approached the table and greeted her friendly and with a warm smile, half of which he had to force on himself, because the thought that this meeting was not of a pleasant nature was always on his neck.

Cuddy smiled as well when she noticed him. With a hand gesture she asked him to sit on the chair across from her. He followed suit and shortly afterwards they looked at each other in silence, each wondering how to start a casual sounding conversation.

Wilson wasn't good at small talk. Especially not when the occasion was as serious as it was now. But he didn't want to get to the topic right away and surprise Cuddy with the problems of the last few days.

"Nice to see you again," he mumbled awkwardly, but saved himself the attempt at a cheerful smile that would have failed anyway. Cuddy behaved in a similar way, sat up a little more upright and nodded in a friendly manner, but unmistakably serious and brisk. She knew that something was wrong, and that didn't surprise Wilson, since he hadn't been very clever.

"Let's skip the small talk and get straight to the point," she said in a calm but firm-sounding voice. She put her arms up to her elbows on the wooden table between them and leaned forward a little, holding her glass of water in both hands.

Wilson sighed. There was really no point in chatting. After all, Cuddy wasn't stupid.

"I... came because I want to ask for your help." Each word came carefully and slowly from his lips. He observed Cuddy's reaction uncertainly, but at first she said and did nothing, just listened and gave him an inviting look when he hesitated again.

"It's about House."

Cuddy seemed far more composed than Wilson expected. Still, he could see the pain that flickered in her big eyes when the name of her former partner was mentioned. He also saw that she was trying to stifle the emerging emotions, and apparently she succeeded at least to some point. Nevertheless, she leaned back in her chair, the distance between them grew, she could hardly have made it clearer that she would have liked to withdraw from the situation again.

There was silence for a while. Wilson waited patiently for the answer, which Cuddy was apparently trying to figure out first.

"I knew it had to be about House," she began in a dry voice. Now she was acting much less briskly and emotions played in her facial expressions that Wilson could not interpret. "So he's working at Princeton again?"

Wilson couldn't blame her for displeasing his nod. Surely she had thought - maybe even hoped - that House had forfeited his license because of his actions and that Foreman was on her side and got rid of him and his department. After all, even Wilson had briefly ended his friendship with the well-known cynic.

But Cuddy was smart enough to know that House's irrational acts did not compete with his genius. That he was the best in his field, would always be and therefore regained his position, seemed to her to be logical in the end.

"He served his fair sentence of just under a year in prison and was then reinstated by Foreman due to an emergency," Wilson said honestly.

Cuddy's expression was still composed while she nodded in understanding.

"How has he been?"

Wilson stared at his ex-boss for a long time. Her initial anger, the downright hatred towards House shortly after he had destroyed her apartment, seemed to have long since vanished and somewhere inside her one or the other feelings for him were still showing. It did not leave her without a trace to talk about the man she had loved. That she might still love secretly.

"He never spoke much about his time in prison," Wilson replied thoughtfully. He was just about to start further words when Cuddy cut him off.

"Spoke?" Her voice sounded incredulous and suddenly alarmed. "Has something happened to him?"

Wilson found it difficult to come up with an adequate answer. He heard the shock in Cuddy's voice, and now he was struggling to explain what had happened. On one hand, he wanted to make it clear to her that the situation was serious, after all, she should accompany him to New Jersey and help him. On the other hand, he didn't want to upset her unnecessarily, because he realized that she was far from indifferent to House.

"He got into an accident," he started hesitantly and took a deep breath. Cuddy's eyes widened a few millimeters, but since she was silent, he continued. "He was admitted to the hospital with a cerebral haemorrhage and has suffered from amnesia ever since."

Again it was quiet. Wilson could hear the blood rushing in his ears and hear his heart pumping as the oppressive silence continued.

"I..." he continued when Cuddy still made no move to answer. "... I was hoping that you could help me work on his memories with him. Right now, me and his team are trying to restore his memory. But it's not easy ... "

A slow nod came as a silent answer before Cuddy had collected enough to say a few incredulous words.

"You want me to come back to New Jersey?" she asked, although it didn't really sound like a question but more like a statement. Wilson nodded.

"The contact with familiar people seems to stimulate his brain to remember," said Wilson as professionally as possible. "You've known each other for years..." He paused for a moment. "I know what happened between you was terrible for both sides. But he wants to remember it, no matter how painful it is."

Cuddy's knowing look told him that she was thinking exactly the same as Wilson himself. She knew House's self-destructive and stubborn manner. In the end, she even fell in love with these qualities.

"I'm unsure…"

Wilson's heart sank at her doubtful words and the absent look that slid away from him into the void. He didn't want to and couldn't force Cuddy to help him. But he was reluctant to have to give House bad news that evening. Hadn't he suffered enough already?

"I have to think about it..." Her dark eyes stared seriously into his, for a moment they only exchanged looks, then Wilson nodded.

"I know."