Author's Note: I could happily leave it at the end of this chapter…how about you? I'll write one more chapter, for luck, if you guys want? A sort of happily-ever-after chapter…but in my own non-fluffy writing style! Enjoy… x
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"Don't move, House!" Wilson snapped as he watched the drowsy diagnostician stir from his long nap. He hadn't sat and watched over his friend for four hours just to have him inadvertently strike his injured side and fall unconscious again!
House moaned lethargically, prying his eyes open to find Wilson literally face to face with him; "Jesus" he croaked, "trying to give me a heart attack?"
"Don't be so dramatic" Wilson replied, picking up the chart to make a note of the time that his patient had awoken. "How are you feeling?"
"Tired" House mumbled whilst closing his eyes once again; this, however, didn't deter Wilson from trying to engage in conversation.
"You've been out for over three hours" Wilson said, merely stating the facts; House reopened his eyes and sighed.
"Is that supposed to make me less tired?" he wondered out loud, slurring slightly; "because it really doesn't…"
"I just thought you'd like to know" Wilson said cheerfully; "I'll be sure to write 'tired and irritable' on your chart though"
House couldn't be bothered to argue, so he left himself open to be talked at.
"It says here" Wilson started, holding out House's chart, "that you were sedated…by Cuddy" he waited for a reaction, but found none. "Now, was that before or after you told her you're in love with her?" he asked cheekily, snapping the chart back onto the end of the bed.
"I didn't tell her" House said dolefully, wishing Wilson would clear off and leave him to sleep.
Wilson regarded his friend for a moment; wondering if House was really being honest, for a change. "Well, you must have said something?" he said, pressing for an answer. House was the master of manipulation, but he didn't seem to be genuinely hiding anything right now; nor did he seem to be offering anything new to the equation…
"I passed out from the pain waaaay before I could pour my heart out and confess my eternal dying love for her…" House announced sleepily, only half-joking.
"She sat with you for three hours solid…" Wilson declared, causing House to perk up slightly.
"What?" the diagnostician asked blearily, wary of being caught off guard. 'Blame the drugs…always the drugs.'
"She stayed here keeping watch over you, she wouldn't let anyone in; she practically snapped Cameron's head off when she came to see if you needed anything…and you're saying you didn't tell her anything before she drugged you earlier?"
"She didn't drug me," House began, resenting the fact that Wilson was painting Cuddy to be an irrational, jealous and egotistical nightmare; "she put me out when the pain became too-" he stopped abruptly, remembering what she said as she faced him.
I gave you a sedative…it was the only thing I could do 'Oh God…' he remembered what he'd thought in reply… 'You didn't think it, you idiot…you told her you loved her!' he groaned audibly.
"House?" Wilson said anxiously, taking note of his ashen complexion. "You okay?"
"I, uh…" House's confused stare met Wilson's unwavering gaze; "where did she go?"
"When?" Wilson asked, puzzled.
"Whenever she left" House said, irritation coming through loud and clear in his tired voice.
"She went to her office to sort something out…"
"Where's my file?" Wilson stared back blankly at House, causing the weary man to sigh exasperatedly; "My file; the one with several accounts of my death in it, that Cuddy would find particularly shocking if she ever read…" he trailed off when he found that the breath he craved to finish the description off with, was a little difficult to summon up.
His head had begun to swim disconcertingly with the effort; the more he woke up, the more nauseous, weak and dizzy he felt. 'I'm gonna kill Cuddy…giving me a sedative when I've still got the anaesthetic in me…'
"Relax, Chase has it" Wilson said reassuringly.
"Get it, and him, in here - right now" House ordered weakly, carefully adjusting the nasal cannular with his right hand to see if he could get any more oxygen from it.
"I'll page him" Wilson said, reaching for his pager.
"Where's Cuddy?" House asked again, getting more irritated as the ability to breathe became more laborious.
"I told you, she's in her office" Wilson paused in his page, taking the time to look up at his, now slightly distressed, friend. "Talk to me – what's wrong?"
"Wilson, just…" House mumbled languidly, "get me…O2 mask…before I pass out."
"Sure – here" Wilson handed the O2 mask over and refrained from asking the inevitable 'are you okay?' question; he sent the page and carefully observed the patient. House fumbled with the mask, dropping it almost immediately; he cursed under his breath and sluggishly moved his hand to retrieve it.
Wilson frowned, alarm bells were beginning to ring out in his head; "What's going on, House?" he asked urgently, pressing the mask over House's mouth himself.
"I'm just…really dizzy." House mumbled, wishing he could see his O2 sats monitor from his position on the bed; because, judging from the look that Wilson was throwing in that direction, it probably wasn't good.
"Are you feeling light-headed?" Wilson asked directly; he pressed the nurse call button above House's bed, just in case he needed assistance.
"No…" House moaned lethargically, annoyed with Wilson's overreaction; "I'm fine now-"
"I'm looking at evidence that says otherwise!" Wilson countered, pointing to the monitors just as two nurses and Chase strode purposefully into the room.
"What's going on?" Chase asked breathlessly, looking from Wilson to House, and back again. He didn't need the aggravation of looking worried in front of House, but he really didn't want to be his boss's attending.
"He's having trouble breathing-" Wilson started before being cut off by House.
"No – I was dizzy" he stated, forcefully pronouncing each word so as not to slur, "and now I'm not…so you can go."
Chase motioned for the two nurses to leave; they didn't need to be in the room just for the sake of getting House worked up. The young doctor set about checking House's vitals in an attempt at not actually having to intervene in the argument that he and Wilson seemed to be involved in.
"What's the matter with you?" Wilson hissed accusingly, "If there's something wrong – just tell me!"
"Just an O.D from the sedative Cuddy gave me…" House addressed miserably to one of the two Wilson's currently wavering in front of his eyes. "It'll pass."
"Oh good, 'cos for a minute there – I though it could be something serious!" Wilson snapped back, sarcastically; he could see that House was having trouble focussing properly, mostly due to the fact that he seemed to be looking two inches to the left of him as they bickered.
"It's not serious, unless I die…then it could be" House mumbled, desperately attempting to push back the nauseous feeling that threatened to overwhelm his senses completely. "Don't tell anyone…"
"What?" Wilson asked, having trouble keeping up with his friend's seemingly random ramblings.
"Don't tell Cuddy" House ordered more precisely, stubbornly refusing to plead...but becoming very close to doing so.
"Ah, I see – so this is all part of your 'keeping the truth from Cuddy' plan?" Wilson asked rhetorically, sitting down with a jolt in the hard visitor's chair.
"Err; is there something I should know about?" Chase asked, unable to block out their entire exchange.
Wilson sighed and ignored the look that House was attempting to scare him into submission with; "Cuddy…doesn't know about some of the more delicate complications of House's surgery…" he started carefully, being sure not to make eye contact with the patient, for fear that looks really could kill!
"I'm not lying to my boss." Chase stated, knowing what the next statement would be.
"I'm your boss" House croaked lazily, feeling his eyelids tugging down uncontrollably. As interesting as this conversation was, he couldn't fight of the lethargy brought on by the many drugs fighting over control of his senses.
"Yeah" came the drawn-out, uncertain response from Chase, who was shaking his head in disbelief. He always knew his boss was crazy; he didn't realise he was also a moron, until now. "I'm sure you both have…some sort of reason for lying to her?" he asked expectantly.
"House is…" Wilson started, fully expecting House to cut him off with an angry jibe or threat; when none came; he looked more closely at his friend's closed eyes. "…asleep" he concluded, unable to pass off House's little secret without his knowledge.
"I'll monitor him, you can write in his chart…" Chase announced, scooting Wilson out of the chair. "I don't want to have to fib in the paperwork, but you don't seem to have a problem with it" he added in explanation.
Wilson stared at House's longest-serving team member for a moment, open mouthed and frowning; he hadn't quite realised before, how much House's unique personality seemed to rub off on those who worked with him. Without argument, he scribbled vaguely in the chart, picked up his pager and left the patient in the capable hands of Dr. Chase.
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House awoke with a grunt as he felt something pressing against his surgical wound; he instinctively moved his right arm, raising it slightly to alleviate the pressure.
When this technique failed, he was forced to blearily open his eyes to investigate; he swallowed painfully when he saw who was tending to him.
"Hey" Cuddy said softly as she gently peeled back his bandages to reveal the tender, sutured area. "Did I hurt you?"
"No…it kinda tickles…" House replied groggily, bringing a hand up to wipe the sleep from his eyes and wincing at the unwanted repercussions of this action.
Cuddy looked at him sceptically, "It feels like you're being tickled?" she asked, doubtingly.
"Sure…by Freddy Krueger" he replied, smirking at her poor attempt at keeping a straight face.
"House, you're…" her smile faltered slightly as her playful mood became overshadowed by what he'd told her earlier, in his moment of obvious disorientation. "What did you mean…about what you said earlier?"
House seriously thought about blanking her and feigning ignorance…but some unfamiliar part of his mind told him that it would be cruel. "I meant exactly what I said…" he replied quietly, unable to see her reaction to this statement as she leant closer into her work on his dressing.
"What does that mean…for the future?" she asked, feeling him tense up under her gentle labour. 'Don't blow it now – he's actually being honest with you!' she thought as she pressed the new dressing around his satisfactorily healing sutures.
"I like you…I like spending time with you…" House, for once, seemed to be at a loss for words.
"House, we've spent the whole weekend together; I somehow managed to upgrade you from 'cripple with broken ribs' to 'cripple with ruptured kidney'…you saved my life, and died twice as a result of it – how can you possibly say you like spending time with me?"
"It's exciting…?" he replied lightly before frowning; "You knew?" he asked disbelievingly.
"Knew what?"
"About the surgery…the dying part"
"Yes" she replied, completing her task of dressing management and finding nothing else to do but face her patient. "I know about the covered up surgery and the O.D that I unwittingly gave you."
"You don't sound very guilt ridden" House acknowledged calmly. "Who told you?"
"Your surgeon told me about the coding and the fact that you were hanging on by a thread; the nurses gave away the fact that you were having some problems after I sedated you. It didn't take much to put two and two together for the O.D diagnosis." Cuddy smirked; apparently, she wasn't angry. Well, why should she be? It was her fault that House O.D'd in the first place; she had to admit, it was a little sweet for him to shield her from that fact.
"Does Wilson know that you know?"
She smiled and shook her head; "It's far too much fun to have him squirming every time we talk about your condition" she admitted.
"Wow…you're way more evil than I thought" House groggily admitted, receiving a feather light punch to the arm in retaliation. "Careful, I'm fragile!" he gasped teasingly.
"So I can see…" Cuddy pulled his right arm out and peeled off the dressing over the crook of his elbow. He hissed as the tape tore out some of the fine hairs on his arm.
"You remind me of a merciless nurse I once knew; she could make a grown man cry, just by – Fuck!" he cursed as Cuddy inadvertently dropped his arm; he immediately regretted letting his arm rest completely in her hands.
"Sorry!" she apologised, "It's this damned cast…" she looked up and saw him frowning anxiously at her. 'No! I'm the one who's supposed to be worried about you!'
House reached out with his left arm and took Cuddy's good hand, stroking the back of it ever so lightly with his thumb; Cuddy stared at him with both a mixture of fear and surprise on her face.
"What are you doing?" she whispered, too shocked to take her hand back.
"Something I've wanted to do for a while" he admitted quietly, kissing her hand and watching her for a reaction…
She smiled.