Disclaimer: I don't own the characters from the Fox TV show 'House'. Fox does. Please don't sue.
Timeline: Takes place at the end of "Babies and Bathwater".
Rating: PG-13 for drug mention.
The alcohol had long been drunk. Everyone had departed. House was finally able to sit in the quiet dark of his office and think.
James Wilson's words kept echoing through his head. 'I got no kids, my marriage sucks. I only got two things that work for me – this job and this stupid, screwed-up friendship. And neither mattered enough to you to give one lousy speech.'
When had he lost sight of what really mattered in this petty feud with Vogler? 'You're a great doctor, House, but your not worth a hundred million dollars,' Cuddy's voice whispered in the dark to him. No, he wasn't. But to be able to take care of the patients, to do what was needed without someone like Vogler saying if you could or couldn't – that was worth more than a hundred million. You couldn't put a price tag on a human life. Wilson was worth more than that to him, as a friend and a doctor. Each person that came through the doors of that thrice-damned clinic was worth more than a hundred million.
Wilson. He needed to talk to Wilson. House knew Wilson's marriage had been a roller coaster ride, but he thought Wilson was fixing it. Or had fixed it.
House also needed to talk to his best friend about the Vicodin, too. The week he had gone without had shown House that something had to change. But then Vogler was there. House had enough sense of self-preservation to leave it alone while that man had been around. But with Vogler out of the picture… Perhaps Wilson could help him, and in the process, he could help Wilson. Fix each other.
'Speak of the devil,' House thought as James Wilson's silhouette appeared in the doorway.
"Still here? Problem with a patient?" House asked.
"No," Wilson answered as he came into the dark office. He found the chair across the desk from House and sat down heavily in it. "I was leaving, but I saw the 'Vette was still here. I thought I'd make sure you didn't need anything."
House was silent for a moment. It was now or never, he decided. Perhaps the fact they were in the dark would make this easier. They couldn't see each other.
"Actually, would you close the door?" House asked. "Leave the lights off," he quickly added as the other man moved to the door. "We… I need to talk to you."
Wilson did as he was asked. Silently, he returned to his seat and waited. He did not know what House wanted to talk of.
"You said your marriage sucks," House started. "I thought you were fixing it."
Wilson shifted in the darkness. House could hear the rustling of Wilson's stiffly starched shirt.
"I quit cheating. I turned all the attention I had been giving other women to my wife. Julie seemed to enjoy it for three or four days. I thought I was doing the right thing. That we'd be like we were. That I'd be happy again. This all, no, I started being a husband again this last weekend."
Wilson stopped and sighed. "Last night, Julie was waiting for me. Wanted to talk. Basically, I wasn't the only one cheating. She said that she had been happier when we were both seeing other people. She hadn't asked for or wanted a divorce because it had all seemed to work for us." His voice had that hurt, lost quality again.
"She said that she wasn't willing to 'play wife' as she put it. The kicker of it is, I had been a lot happier this past week then in a long while."
"What are you going to do?" House asked when the silence became too heavy to bear.
"Either I ignore her cheating and accept that my marriage will always be a fraud, or get a divorce. Now that I've realized she's what I had wanted all along, it's too late." Wilson's voice cracked on the last word. "I'm going to call my lawyer tomorrow. Sale the house, buy Julie a nice condo. Let her take whatever she wants. Julie said that all she wanted was what was hers from before the marriage and enough money to start a new life. At least if I buy her a condo, I'll know that she will never have to worry about rent. She has kept her nurse's license current because of the volunteer work she does. She'll be able to find a job easily enough."
"I'm sorry." House made sure his voice was soft as he said this so Wilson would know he truly meant it.
Wilson didn't reply. They sat in the dark for a while.
"Not right now," House began, "but once the divorce is done and you're ready, I need you to help me with something."
"Sure, what?" came the reply. That was James Wilson. Always ready to lend a hand.
"You remember the week of hell?" House asked.
"The no Vicadin week?"
"Yea, that one."
"Yes," Wilson said, wondering where this was going.
"I will never be like I was before. But you were right. The drugs have more of a hold on me than I want to admit."
"You want to quit the Vicadin?" Wilson's voice had a note of hope.
"Yea. I'm thinking of a leave of absence. I have over a month accumulated."
"Okay. I'll help you anyway I can. Let's not go cold turkey, though. I can write a script for something non-addictive, so you won't have to deal with the leg pain too."
"Yea. I was hoping you could help with some physical therapy, too. I'll never be able to run again, but maybe swimming…"
Wilson understood. Half of the Vicadin's lure was the ability to make House forget the athlete he had been before the infraction.
"I'll make you a deal," Wilson replied. "You keep me away from women for at least a year. I'm 35, and filing for divorce number three. I'll keep you away from the Vicadin. Maybe together, we can fix each other."
"Agreed," House said. The smile could be heard in his voice.
"Agreed," Wilson echoed.