Title: Metamorphosis
Disclaimer: I don't own House. I'm not even pretending to.
A/N: Sorry it's so depressing. When I'm on Nyquil I get all maudlin. T-T Please read and review!
Dr. Gregory House looks like he is sleeping. That is, if you can ignore the empty pill bottle, and the fact that he isn't breathing.
Wilson notices both these things when he finds him, lying sprawled on his bed with the covers drawn back. There's a note, and typical of House, it says so much while saying so little. Sorry, it says, which isn't typical, but which Wilson appreciates through a fog of gray. I only used the pills because I didn't have a gun, it says, and I don't think you'd like to clean up the mess. It's bitter, and cutting, and true, it seems so true. Wilson has to suppress a laugh (though it isn't really funny) because if he starts now, he won't be able to stop any time soon.
He finishes the letter, and by accident (it's really an accident- he doesn't want to see) he sees House's eyes, those bright blue eyes, closed forever, the urge to laugh becomes the urge to cry. Something inside him has broken.
He goes to the funeral, but only because he couldn't have avoided it. When he arrives, he's dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, and looks like he's been sleeping. Or crying.
He goes back to House's apartment (his now). And sits. First in the big, comfy armchair, then on the couch, then on the bench in front of the piano. It occurs to him that he's trying to play all the parts. He just can't do it.
When he goes back to work, he's restless, bored. Oncology just doesn't seem to be enough anymore. He takes to pacing back and forth in the hallway, unconsciously following paths he used to walk with House. He snaps at anyone who interrupts him, using years of experience gained from watching House to hit them where it hurts, so they don't notice how much he's hurting.
Months later, it seems as if he's gotten over it. But the James Wilson who goes to work every day and comes home alone isn't the James Wilson who used to laugh with House so long ago. He's bitter, and cold, and not that nice anymore (the façade was shattered). He sleeps in House's bed, and wears House's clothes. He's lost weight, and there are circles under his eyes from lack of sleep, but he insists that he's fine, just fine, and nobody's close enough anymore to call him on his lie (everybody lies). He's Dr. Wilson, Dr. James Wilson. Jimmy died when House did.