Part Three: The Search for House
By 4.30pm, Wilson was beginning to grow more concerned that he hadn't seen his friend around in hours.
"Have any of you seen House?" Wilson asked House's team, poking his head around the glass door of the differential room.
"Not since this morning," Cameron chirped up.
"No patient?"
Chase cut in, "We did. Then we fixed him. House probably went home."
Wilson grunted to himself and walked back out into the corridor, deciding to call House's apartment.
No answer.
He then tried House's cell.
It rang. No answer. He tried again. It rang twice before a robotic voice ground out, "Your call has been diverted to voicemail." House rejected my call? What the hell?
Worry getting the better of him, Wilson strode out into the car park in search of his car. He's probably asleep on his couch in his apartment and pissed at me for keeping on calling him, Wilson thought, but it doesn't hurt to make sure. But on his way out to his car, he noticed House's bike was still parked outside the hospital.
He's still here.
And so Wilson's mission to find House began. He searched the coma patients' rooms, the vegetative state peoples' rooms, the nurse's lounge and every empty room he could find, but no sign of House. No one had even seen him. Then Wilson remembered the one place House used to go to be away from everybody and think.
The door swung open to reveal House leaning against the wall and looking off into the distance, seemingly lost in his own musings. He had his back to Wilson and didn't move an inch. The only thing that showed any sign of life was the way the tail part of his suit jacket fluttered in the breeze.
"House?" Wilson watched as House physically tensed up hearing his voice.
"Wilson." House acknowledged his friend, but didn't turn to face him.
Wilson knew he had to tread carefully, "So…how's it going?"
Immediately House's eyes whipped round to meet Wilson's, glaring at him as if to say I know what you're doing and I'm fine.
"Sorry," Wilson said, "But I had to ask. I mean, the last time you came here was after Stacy…y'know…left again." Wilson's gaze dropped to the floor, not sure whether the subject of Stacy was still a sore spot for House. Both he and House had always made a point of not bringing it up unless it was absolutely necessary.
House was uncharacteristically silent.
"Y'know, Cuddy's looking for you," Wilson tried.
"Oh, I know. She wants a piece of this," he scoffed, turning his body to face Wilson and pointing to himself, but his voice lacked the power and sarcastic tone it usually had. "I'm trying to save her the humiliation of me turning her down," House said with a smirk.
Wilson smiled. And then did something very stupid. Perhaps it was because bantering with House came so naturally to him, but what he initially thought was an innocent question, eventually blew up in his face.
"So…had a nice birthday?" Wilson quickly withdrew his smile and inwardly berated himself for bringing up the birthday topic so early in the conversation. He'll tell you when he's ready. You always do this. You force it and then he gets angry and it's your own fault.
"Don't you start," House began, his smirk now an angry frown.
"Oh, come on. Who doesn't like birthdays?"
Sighing and grabbing his cane, House headed for the roof door. Briefly, he stopped next to Wilson, staring at the ground. "I'll be glad when this day is over," he almost whispered before leaving the roof.
Slightly confused by House's parting words, Wilson continued to stand alone on the roof, hands on his hips and head in a muddle.
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A/N: Sorry for the short chapter guys; this one's a little bit of a filler, though I think it holds some purpose. Just means the next one should (hopefully) be up quicker XD.
As always, reviews are appreciated - shows I'm doing something right!