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Pillow Tales - Ch2 - The Head Oncologist
Now…Wilson stood at the doorframe and stared at the figure propped alertly against the pillows. House's face was twisted in rapt attention as he tried to adjust to the dramatic changes in his favourite soap, the soft background chorus of which reverberated around the small room. He gave no indication he was aware of Wilson's presence, until he gave a sigh and looked away from the television screen.
"You know, Jimmy, Susan here could give you a run for you money," he remarked, finally turning to catch Wilson's gaze. "I could've sworn the last time I saw this show, she was Harry's wife, not Nick's." Wilson gave a small smile and stepped away from the doorway, walking around to the foot of the bed. He shoved his hands into his pockets and glanced guiltily around the room.
"Actually," he confessed, "I got engaged."
House's eyebrows shot up. Wilson patiently rolled his eyes and sat down. "After six months?" House questioned incredulously. Wilson shrugged resolutely.
"I think you'll like her. She's… understanding. Pretty – a red-head, actually." House nodded compliantly.
"How long have you known her?" he asked mildly. Wilson fiddled unconsciously with his ring finger on his lap.
"Six months," he answered. "I met her at Princeton General the day you came in."
"Doctor?" House probed.
"Radiologist."
House nodded his head as he considered this. He glanced at Wilson's fidgeting hands, and then back up at his friend. "You wringing an imaginary wedding-band there, Jimmy," he announced, and Wilson looked down at his fingers to find them caught in the act. "You're nervous about the wedding," House deduced, and Wilson looked back up, shamefully. He sighed heavily.
"It's not until December. I don't understand it," he conceded. "I… I wasn't nervous before I married Lauren or Michelle or Julie… and I guess," he paused, "I guess I thought I'd have to go through it… without my best friend."
House expelled an awkward chuckle, and looked at Wilson to find him staring back earnestly. "I missed you, House," Wilson continued. "It sucks without you."
Then…
Wilson raced through the parking lot to the front entrance of Princeton General. The automatic doors pulled apart to reveal a crowded waiting area, and Wilson crossed directly to the front desk.
"Excuse me," he called frantically at the secretary. "I'm looking for Greg House? He was admitted this morning, involved in the truck crash?" The woman nodded in recognition.
"He's in the O.R." she told him patiently as she continued sorting through a stack of files on the counter.
"Uh, okay… I'm James Wilson, I'm a doctor over at Princeton-Plainsboro. Can I scrub in for the procedure?"
The woman cocked a skeptical eyebrow, and then looked back down at her sorting. "'Can't have a crowded O.R." she answered, declining.
Wilson sighed in annoyance. "Well, if he's in surgery, there must be a reason. Can you tell me that much?" he pressed impatiently.
"You're next of kin?" she asked derisively.
"I just told you I'm a doctor," Wilson snapped. The woman turned away and Wilson heaved a growl of frustration. A woman who stood next to him at the desk wearing a pair of scrubs put down the clipboard she was filling in and looked over at him.
"Dr. James Wilson, the oncologist?" she asked, and Wilson turned his attention to her. He nodded, and she stuck out a hand, which he shook courteously. "It's an honour to meet you – I'm Maria Russell, I'm a radiologist here." Wilson visibly relaxed after she introduced herself, his frustration evaporating at her professionalism. "I could probably get a copy of the CT scan for you," she told him, indicating over her shoulder.
Wilson sighed in relief. "That would be fantastic. Do you know why they're operating?" Wilson asked her as he followed her towards the elevators.
"His skull is fractured, and the CT showed an extradural haemorrhage of the parietal bone."
Wilson dropped his head and sighed. "Who's operating on him?" he asked her as they stepped into the elevator.
"Dr. Jonathon Field; he's one of our best surgeons," she replied reassuringly. Wilson nodded curtly. He took a deep breath and willed himself to calm down. Maria spoke up again. "Look, doctor, I've referred hundreds of cerebral haemorrhage patients to Dr. Field – I assure you he's a very capable surgeon."
Wilson looked at her disbelievingly for a minute before glancing away. "I'm sorry, I'm kind of stressed right now. House is a friend of mine."
Maria nodded comprehendingly. "Of course, I completely understand. That's why I'm doing this favor for you." She paused for a minute and took a deep breath before continuing. "And when the time comes, I may have to ask for a favor in return." She met his eyes nervously, and Wilson, still distracted by the plight of House, reached absently for his wallet.
"Here's my card," he said pulling out one of his business cards and handing it to her.
Maria expelled a short sigh of relief, tucking it into her jacket pocket. "Thank you. The radiology offices are just up here."
Now…
"How did you propose to this one?"
Wilson rolled his eyes at the question. "In a restaurant after a nice meal."
"Big rock?"
"Yes."
"Big rack?"
"Generously sized, yes."
House scoffed and refocused his attention on the small TV screen. "'She Jewish?"
"Yes," Wilson replied. "You'll meet her soon enough, House."
House nodded. He had other questions churning around his stomach about his six-month absence, but one in particular had been eating at him for a while now.
"This morning, when I woke up," he began, and Wilson turned to face him, "a nurse found me awake. She ran to get Chase, and Chase was here nearly straight away." Wilson grimaced and looked away uncomfortably. "Why was Chase the ICU attending?" House asked him.
Wilson looked seriously at House, who stared back questioningly. He heaved a great sigh, and resumed wringing the imagionary wedding-ring. "Two days after the accident, diagnostics went back to work. They took up a few cases, but without you, their success rate was… poor at best. Cuddy decided to temporarily dissolve the department. Chase went to ICU, Cameron, immunology and Foreman, neurology.
"You didn't wake up for five months after that. The board was putting Cuddy under pressure to disband diagnostics permanently – your staff were still being paid more than colleagues in their new departments as long as diagnostics existed. But provided that Cuddy and I were opposed to the permanent dissolution of your department, they couldn't do anything." Wilson paused and took a deep breath. "But then Cuddy left."
"Cuddy left?" House repeated, both confused and disturbed by the information.
Wilson looked up from his lap and into his best friend's bewildered eyes. "She left. Maternity leave. She was six months pregnant, House."
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