Wilson was stuck in grievance, sure he knew that it wasn't House's fault that Amber died- but he tried as hard as he could to make it his. In the end, he had punished and isolated his friend and found nothing. When he came back, his friend was withdrawn- looked beyond underweight and his limp heavily pronounced. Turns out he stopped taking meds when Wilson left, hoping it would make Wilson forgive him. That shattered the oncologists heart at the time. He had tried to make amends by continuing to prescribe Vicodin but the cripple put up a weak fight before giving in guiltily.
It hurt the younger doctor to see just how much power he had over his friend because of how much House needed him. Something he'd never admit to missing, but did in-fact miss was the late night phone calls. Sometimes they were drug or alcohol filled stupors, which made Wilson giggle like a girl, and others they were pain or fear. He knew the base of Houses childhood abuse from these delusional whimpers but Wilson was always able to bring him back, and House would sometimes actually communicate. Crazy...
It'd been 4 months since Wilson finally returned and the M.D still seemed like an anxious shell of his past, now walking around Wilson on eggshells- seemingly afraid if he made the wrong move he'd loose him again. No amount of reassuring even helped.
Which is why at 3 AM, when Wilson received a call- he was almost relieved but that was quickly washed away by the sound of his friends voice.
"Wilson- I can't breathe..." a panicked, shaky voice rung out of the speakers, followed by intense panting. "House! Are you in pain?" Wilson shouted, his own panic rising. "No- just,"
The call went silent for what felt like an eternity to Wilson before he heard distant and muffled sobs. Time stopped and he realised he had never gotten a call like this, just pure panic. He whispered comforting words into the receiver as he threw himself into his car.
The oncologist didn't knock, he knew he didn't need to. Everything was a blur, barely hearing his own heavy breathing. Wilson didn't really remember m if he shut the door or not but he hoped he did as he ran to the bedroom. Slowly he took in the scene, shock heightening each of his senses.
House was curled around his right leg, clutching a bright tie that Wilson had dropped when he left with white knuckles. Tear tracks stained his cheeks and pillows that continued to flow down his friends face. Small hics constantly erupting out of him in between gasps and uncontrollable sobs. Occasionally he'd whimper small sentences where Wilson could only make out select words like 'Wilson', 'Don't go', 'I'm sorry' and 'Wait' but as he stepped closer the oncologist was halted in his tracks as his friend breathlessly sobbed "I should have died instead of her"
House was... guilty
Wilson didn't know what the hell he could do, because this was damage he had caused. The oncologist stumbled toward his friend, laying a comforting hand on his friends back to get his attention. House shot away suddenly, jerking his bad leg. "I'm sorry!" He screamed loudly, fresh tears spilling away from his eyes. "House, it's Wilson, I'm here- look at me."
The older doctor took comfort in the hug when he can back towards the end the of the bed. Wilson whispered comforting words in the shaken doctors ear. Both were shaken but one was truly shaking. "Wilson?" A more steady voice glazed out of his friend as he pulled away, meeting his friends eyes.
"Hey buddy. Feeling better now?" Wilson kept a protective hand on the cripples but let go when he saw his friend wince, and begin to rub his leg. "Yeah. All good. You can go." But the oncologist shook his head walking to the bed and planting himself next to House on the other side of the bed so his friend could get off his bad leg. "No. I'm not leaving you again."
Houses breath hitched, sea-blue eyes flicking up to meet chocolate brown. "Promise...?"
"Promise. Can you tell me what happened so we can stop it next time?"
House shook his head sadly before trying to shakily pull his emotions together. His hand reached up to his lungs, panic rising in his eyes. "I can't- help.."
Wilson dreadingly realised that House was staring to get anxious again and risked having what he thought was another panic attack. "House, buddy I'm here okay, we're in your room. I'm here" and he pulled the doctor towards him. House scrambled to pick up the fabric which Wilson finally realised was his missing tie, and slowly put together the pieces, his own tears spilling out. "Hey- hey It's okay"
Wilson stopped crying first, but he felt no better by knowing the impact of his leave. He looked at the tie as his friend clutched it and remembered what happened those four months ago
He picked up the box, fuming angrily at how House had tried to apologise. "We aren't friends House, I'm not sure we ever were" he hadn't missed the pained look on his ex-friends face. In his hurry to leave, he dropped a tie, their eyes met- and Wilson stormed away.
Wilson nearly began to cry again at the fact House had kept it.
"Wilson? I'm sorry." He heard the tone in his friends voice and realised he probably had called his names a few times. Wilson nodded lightly.
"I.. I kept thinking about when you," a hiccup. "Left and how- I can't. Don't... what if you leave. Everyone leaves I just," he bowed his head, hot tears falling onto the dark sheets. "I don't know what to do without you..."
Wilson held him a little tighter, breathing in his silver streaked hair. "Don't worry, I'm not leaving again"
"I swear"
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