Title: When Life Gives You Lemons
Relationships: All friendship
Rating: T/M
Warning: Nothing too bad. Mild language I guess…
Spoilers: Season 1
Disclaimer: I am not making any profit from this fan fiction, all recognizable characters belong to FOX and all of the others belong to me. The definitions are from Webster's Dictionary.
A/N: I'm really depressed right now about some things so I'm sorry if this chapter seems a little off. I went over it but I don't think I did a very good job. Please review! Responses at the bottom.
Chapter 4: Fatigue
Fatigue: weariness or exhaustion from labor, exertion, or stress.
The temporary loss of power to respond induced in a sensory
receptor or motor end organ by stimulation.
Wilson walked into the clinic and grabbed a chart. "Diego Collazo," he called, and seeing a woman with a small boy he nearly groaned. The kid looked fine from what he could tell but he led the woman to Exam Room 1 and told her to sit down.
"What's the problem?" he asked nicely, trying not to snap at her like House would have. He liked kids just fine, but he got angry with the parents when they dragged in a perfectly healthy kid.
"He's been sneezing a lot," she told him.
Wilson nodded and took his stethoscope out and put it around his neck. "He might have asthma." He reviewed the chart and saw that the little boy had been prescribed Ventalin. "Never mind, he does have asthma. Has he been using his inhaler?"
"He says it tastes bad and won't use it," the woman replied.
Wilson looked at the boy who was looking at him with solemn brown eyes. "You could try Claritin but the medicine he was prescribed is what will work best. Besides, if he is using it properly he shouldn't taste anything."
"How'd you break your arm?" the little boy asked before the mother could respond.
"I crashed my car," Wilson replied.
"I broke my foot last year," he told Wilson.
"Really?" Wilson asked, smiling at Diego's mother who smiled back.
"Yeah," Diego said. "Daddy dropped a plate on it when he was kissing Mommy in the kitchen."
Wilson bit his lips to keep from laughing and then felt a wave of sadness overcome him. He had Julie had been happy and done things like that before. Not broken a plate on a child's foot, but they had kissed and broken some things. Shaking it off, he looked at the woman who had wide eyes and was blushing slightly.
"Is there anything else I should know?" she asked, obviously embarrassed.
"No," Wilson replied. "The Claritin ought to help, but I still think you should give the Ventalin another go."
She nodded, took her son's hand, and quickly led him out of the room.
Wilson chuckled and walked out of the exam room. He picked up another chart and was about to call the patient's name when he heard House say his name.
"Where have you been? I mourned you at lunch," House told him, dropping off a chart. Seeing a pen in Wilson's right hand he said, "You're left handed."
"I can't hold a pen in my right hand? What is the world coming to?" Wilson rolled his eyes and called his patient.
A woman in her late sixties walked over to him.
"Follow me," Wilson told her, leading her to Exam Room 2.
House trailed after them and said, "Do I sense a little hostility?" when Wilson tried to shut the door on him.
Wilson rolled his eyes when House came in and shut the door. "What's bothering you, Mrs. Scott?"
"I've been shaking a lot," the woman told him.
"Where?" Wilson asked, ignoring House who was rolling his eyes and had an 'are you kidding me' look on his face.
"My hands mostly, but my legs'll shake when I rest them a certain way sometimes," Mrs. Scott answered.
Wilson picked the chart up along with a pen. He scribbled something with his right hand, being sure to keep the cast on his left hand hidden so that House didn't say something in front of the woman.
"Why aren't you using your left hand?" House asked, watching Wilson intently.
"I'm giving my right one some practice," Wilson snapped. "Shut up." He looked at Mrs. Scott. "Could you show my how you're shaking, please?"
She nodded and held her right hand out which shook a little.
"Have you been feeling weak?" Wilson asked, ignoring House who looked about ready to start yelling at the lady.
"Yes," she replied.
"Have you been sleeping well?" he inquired, knowing that she was fatigued.
"I've been watching the late night shows so I haven't been going to bed as early as I normally do." She looked at him. "Is that why I've been shaking?"
"Yes," he answered. "It's fatigue."
"What do I do about it?" she asked.
"You sleep," House answered.
"Oh," she muttered. "That's easy; and I can always tape the shows."
House rolled his eyes and Wilson shot him a look that said, 'be nice, you ass'. "Anything else?" Wilson asked her.
"No, thank you, Doctor," she told him and walked out of the room.
Wilson made a note in her chart and signed off on it before getting up to leave.
"You really care about your patients," House said contemptuously.
"You make it sound like a crime," Wilson said with a frown.
House rolled his eyes. "Don't turn sentimental on me." He walked out of the room with Wilson.
"Can I get a ride home with you?" Wilson asked, dropping Mrs. Scott's file off at the nurse's station.
"Can't; I've got something to do," House said, following Wilson who had called another patient.
"You've got a date with Rosy Palm, I know," Wilson said sarcastically to House. To his patient he said, "What's the problem?"
"I've had an earache for the last four days," the man said.
"Do you swim a lot?" Wilson asked, grabbing a flashlight and attaching the bit used to look into ears.
"Yeah," the man answered. "Do you think it's swimmer's ear?"
"Most likely," Wilson answered, looking in the man's ear. "Yeah, it's inflamed." He grabbed a pen and a script sheet and scribbled a prescription on it. "Take these twice a day; it should help with the infection."
"Anything else?" the guy asked.
"Try not to go swimming for a few weeks. And it might help to get ear plugs in the future," Wilson told him, holding the script out.
"Thanks, Doc," the guy said, taking the prescription and leaving the room.
Wilson sighed and sank into a chair. "I'm tired."
"How'd you get those cuts on your face?" House asked, noticing that Wilson had some scratches on his cheeks and forehead.
Wilson sighed and shook his head. He didn't know why he was keeping the crash from House; he only knew he didn't want his friend to curse at him.
"Oh, quit lying to me; you're worse than my patients. What happened and why aren't you using your left hand?" House demanded, losing patience with Wilson.
"I broke it," Wilson muttered quietly.
"Yo-you what?" House asked, not sure if he'd heard him correctly.
"I was in a car crash this morning and I broke my wrist," Wilson answered wearily.
"You fucking idiot," House snapped. "Why did you come to work?" He paused and then said thoughtfully, "That would be a really good excuse for Cuddy."
"I have patients to see," Wilson replied, closing his eyes and leaning back in his chair. "I feel awful."
"No shit, Sherlock," House said angrily. "Why didn't you call me? Who the hell treated you?"
"A guy called Dr. Laski at Princeton General," Wilson replied.
"You're such a fucking idiot," House informed his friend. "Go home and get some rest. Hell, I'll take you. What a stupid thing to do."
Wilson snorted. "Shut up, Greg, I'm trying to sleep."
House rolled his eyes. "Did you tell Julie?"
Wilson's eyes flew open. "I meant to call her." He got up and swayed on his feet.
"You're obviously uninjured except for the arm," he said dryly, noticing that Wilson didn't look too steady on his feet. He looked at Wilson's cast. "You should have gotten the teddy bear cast. I know they have them at Princeton General. We have them here too if you'd like it."
"Shut up," Wilson said and walked out of the room. He went over to the nurse's station. "Four thirty six, Dr. Wilson checks out."
The nurse scribbled it down on the time sheet dutifully and went back to what she had been doing.
House didn't check out, he just followed Wilson to the oncology department.
"Do you mind?" Wilson asked when House followed him into his office and sat down.
"No," House replied.
"Get out!" Wilson snapped.
House snorted but did as he was told. "Don't want me around when Wifey screams at you?"
Wilson shot House a horrible glare that made House laugh.
"How she take it?" House asked when Wilson walked out of his office looking harassed.
"Well, she was concerned at first but when she found out I totaled the car and it would go on her insurance record she wasn't too happy," Wilson replied and then said brokenly, "I could hear her boyfriend in the background."
House looked at his friend sympathetically. "I'll take you home."
Wilson looked at House and smiled slightly. Greg could be a pretty good guy even though he rarely showed it. "Are you concerned?"
"No, I just don't want to get blamed if you die in your office," House replied coolly.
"Cuddy didn't seem too worried," Wilson told him.
"Cuddy has her mind in the clouds today. I think someone she knows died," House said, shrugging to show how little it mattered to him.
"I can't leave, I've got patients." Wilson sighed and collapsed into a hall chair. "I think I'm going to die here."
"Welcome to my life," House said dryly, sinking into a chair next to Wilson. He liked the chairs that were placed in the hall, they were squishy and some of them rolled around.
"What life?" Wilson teased. He leaned his head against the wall, wishing he was in his bed sleeping.
House snorted. "I can't believe the hospital let you out. You're obviously injured." He could see that Wilson was in pain by the way he held himself stiff.
Wilson noted that House was being serious again and so he replied, "I don't think they thought I'd go to work. I'd probably be fine if I had just stayed home and slept."
"You're probably more fatigued than that idiot in the clinic," House snapped. He was looking at Wilson the way he would look at an interesting case only he had concern in his eyes.
"And people say you're uncaring," Wilson told him with a chuckle, his eyes still closed and not seeing the worry or care that House had written on his face.
"Come on, let's go," House commanded, this time much more seriously.
"You do actually care about our friendship," Wilson said, sounding truly surprised. He opened his eyes and looked at House. "I've got to tell Cuddy I'm leaving and so do you."
House rolled his eyes. "Whatever." He didn't say anything about Wilson's friendship comment. Wilson was the only person he really cared about in the world other than himself and he knew that Wilson knew that even though they rarely spoke of it.
Wilson shrugged out of his lab coat and pulled the stethoscope out of his pocket. He draped the coat over his arm and walked back into his office to retrieve his bag and leave his coat and stethoscope.
"How bad's the break?" House asked when Wilson walked back in to the hall.
"It's clean," Wilson replied, absently rubbing the cast on his left wrist.
"Pain?" House questioned, sounding genuinely concerned. He got to his feet and scrutinized the cast.
"What's wrong?" Wilson asked. "You're never this nice to me. Don't tell me it's nothing and you're just worrying about a friend because that's bull. I know something happened. Was it Cameron?"
House sighed and shook his head. "Stacy's bugging me."
Wilson's eyebrows shot up. "I thought you two were avoiding each other for the most part."
They started heading in the direction of Cuddy's office. House had to walk slower than he normally did because Wilson was moving slowly. He hoped it wasn't because of something that had happened in the accident but Wilson said he had only broken his wrist and that had been the extent of damage – other than his totaled car of course.
"We were," House answered. "I was just dwelling on something she said, but it's not too important."
"It's important enough to change your character," Wilson pointed out.
"Why do you care so much?" House demanded.
"I'm weak," Wilson replied with a shrug. "I care. You're my friend."
"You need more friends," House muttered.
"You need friends," Wilson shot back.
"Why? So that they can fuss over me like you do? I don't need that," House grumbled, his cane punctuating his annoyance.
Wilson sighed and stumbled a little.
House saw him stumble and said, "You want to borrow my cane?"
Wilson shot him a nasty look and stuck his tongue out. "Soon I'll be bitching at patients and popping Vicodin."
"Oh, you want some for the pain?" House asked with an impish grin on his face. He got into an elevator and Wilson followed blindly, not noticing that there were other people in the elevator with them.
Wilson laughed. "Are we going to start writing scripts for each other? Is that what our life has been reduced to?"
"Don't forget that we'll steal each other's medicine," House put in, causing Wilson to roll his eyes.
"Ugh, we sound like a married…" Wilson's voice trailed off and he looked ahead of him, not realizing that he'd climbed into an elevator full of people. He turned red, which caused House to laugh, and rubbed his face.
House got out of the elevator when it reached Cuddy's floor and Wilson followed, his cheeks still slightly pink.
"Don't think about Julie," House said to him after a moment. "She's not worth it."
Wilson snorted but his eyes teared a little. He knew what House said was true; he shouldn't worry too much about Julie.
House looked a little embarrassed that Wilson had tears in his eyes so he looked away. He saw Cuddy coming out of her office. "Cuddy!" he barked at her, limping over.
"What?" she asked him in an annoyed tone.
"Why didn't you send Wilson home when he showed up?" he wanted to know.
She looked at Wilson who was looking a lot worse than he had that morning. "I was thinking about something else."
"Nice reason," House replied dryly. "I'm leaving; Wilson's about to die."
Wilson looked at the floor feeling like a child whose mother was yelling at the teacher about something ridiculous. He sneaked a look at Cuddy who was eyeing him with concern. "I'm not dead yet," he muttered loud enough for them to hear. He saw Cuddy crack a smile and House roll his eyes.
"Alright, leave," Cuddy said, "but, House, so help me God; if you are not here tomorrow to do your clinic hours I'll murder you."
House looked at Cuddy with a look of pure shock laced with amusement. "Yes, Sir! Come on, Wilson, I think she means business."
Wilson gave Cuddy a very apologetic look that made her smile. "I've got a patient at six…could you…?"
"Yeah, I'll get someone to cover," she replied. "Get some sleep; I'll understand if you're not here tomorrow."
Wilson nodded and followed House out of the hospital.
Reviewer Responses:
Ivory Novelist: Thanks for the praise I am really happy you like it. As for the fluff, most of it is in the next chapter. Sorry about that, I had to move it over since the chapter was starting to feel strange.
Flamesofthemo0m: I liked your review! It made me laugh. However, when it comes to Wilson and House they might be good friends but it seems that House still likes to pick at Wilson. I know they're good friends, so I hope you like the fluffy chapter that is coming up!
Forgottengargoyle: :Smiles: I am really happy you like where I'm going. I really do appreciate the praise. I know I haven't done the best job with characters, but I am trying my best. Thank you so much for reading and taking the time to review, your review really cheered me up because it was wonderful. Glad you're hooked!