Disclaimer: None of this is mine.
A wise man once said that if a man puts a cord around his neck, God will provide someone to pull it. Wilson had definitely just put a cord around his neck. He was doomed to face countless hours of a patented Allison Cameron tongue lashing and the guilt that came along with it, all because of a misguided tongue. His own misguided tongue, no less. Traitor.
Allison was tired, dead tired, that much was made clear by her poor posture and dropping eyelids. She'd probably come in search of an empty bed and had just happened to intrude upon this particular room. She wouldn't have even noticed him had he not called out. Why had he done that, anyway?
Maybe he had a subconscious desire to be caught in his own lies and be forced apart from the worry that now feasted upon his soul and into the welcome arms of a fellow. Maybe he was tired. Who knew?
The reasons behind his sudden lapse were inconsequential now, though, because they produced the same dreaded result; Allison Cameron's awareness. Even now he could see the way her shoulders tensed as she considered his presence.
A part of her probably thought he was some sort of hallucination brought on by sleep deprivation, but he hinged no hope on convincing her fully of this idea. Allison was tired, but she was not so tired as to forget herself. She'd want to know why he was here, in the middle of the night, sitting in a nearly abandoned room, scarfing down the inedible dribble also known as hospital food.
"Wilson?" She murmured, right on cue.
She turned to him then, her eyes wide with surprise. The oncologist watched in fascination as her body language changed completely. No longer was it the relaxed drag of the soon to be sleeping, but the professional defensive posture one expected from House's followers.
He cleared his throat. "Eating," He nodded to his plate of food. "And yourself?"
"A patient of mine went into labor . . . " Her tone was soaked heavily with suspicion. "I thought you were off duty . ."
Wilson took an absentminded bite of jell-O, shrugging in a nonchalant fashion. He changed the subject. "I didn't know you were interested in Gynecology."
"I'm not, " Cameron reaffirmed. "It was a favor . . ." Her arms crossed. "Why are you here?"
The oncologist nodded along with her words. "Just visiting a friend." He gestured towards the man on the bed across from them. "Many female doctors become obstetricians, it's hardly a disrespectful occupation . . ." Cameron seemed to stiffen. "I have to wonder why you seem to find the idea so distasteful . . . "
"You know someone in a coma?" She probed, ignoring his inquisitiveness.
Wilson nodded, still munching. "More like an acquaintance, really, but I was in the area and decided to stop by. You still haven't answered my earlier question, though, why do you find the idea of female obstetricians so off putting?"
Allison floundered. "It's not that I dislike the idea, just the automatic relation people seem to draw between female doctors and babies. It's not as if we can't handle any other job equally well . . ."
The man nodded again. "True, women are very capable. In fact, there are many duties a woman can handle much better than a man. Unfortunately, much of the population doesn't think so."
"I have no idea why . . . " She shook her head in frustration, deciding to leave it be.
She sighed, momentarily forgetting the circumstances of their meeting as she basked in the comfortable silence. It was gratifying to know that her opinions were not so ludicrously femenistic, that someone else, a male someone, had also noticed the disturbing pressure put on women to procreate. It wasn't as if they were just baby making machines . . .
Just as quickly as this comfort had washed over her, it suddenly fell away. Cameron stood straight, her defensive posture and professional mask back up. She narrowed her eyes, glaring at the man across from her. She bristled. Wilson had deliberately led her off subject just to avoid answering her questions. Why?
She didn't know Wilson well, but he had always struck her as an honest, yoda-like figure. If he was lying, it was worth investigating. Cameron wasn't the type to just let things lie.
"So, let me get this straight. You just 'happened' to be in a neighborhood that's a far cry from your own at . . ."She glanced at her watch. "2:00 a.m. and decided to step in just to visit a 'near' and 'dear' acquaintance?"
Honestly, Cameron didn't know if Wilson lived near the hospital, or what his habits were. For all she knew such bizarre field trips were normal for him, but she wasn't about to admit any of those things. If there's one thing she'd gathered from her time with House, it was that all things in life and otherwise are won by a well placed bluff.
Wilson sighed, contemplating his own options. He could continue to lie to Cameron, but such a tactic was ill advised. Cameron was tenacious at best and rarely left things alone. The likely scenario would be that Wilson would spend most of the night convincing Cameron that nothing suspicious was going on and she'd still find out his secret soon enough. The entire idea seemed tiring.
"Cameron . . . The truth is, this man," He gestured to the elder. "Isn't an acquaintance at all. He's . . . my father." Yet he still couldn't help himself.
The woman stood stock still, looking towards the oncologist. It seemed to fit, his story. If Wilson's father was in the hospital then it would make perfect sense that he was there as well. It would also explain his avoidance, no one liked to think of their relatives' impending deaths.
Guilt filled her near to bursting. Here she'd been giving Wilson the third degree when he was in nothing but turmoil. Had she become one of those emotionless doctors who couldn't care less about another person's feelings? Had she become House?
There was a part of her that still felt a nagging suspicion. It all seemed too perfect, too coincidental, too fake to be real, but she forcefully brushed away such thoughts. Wilson . . . She barely knew him, what could he possibly have to lie to her about?
She moved forward, bringing her hand over his in a gesture of comfort. She gave a small, bitter smile before sitting down next to him in support. His hand clenched around her's fitfully and she gave it a soft squeeze in return.
"I'm sorry, I had no idea." She admitted. "How long?" She questioned, gently.
Wilson barely maintained his saddened facade. He was surprised. Certainly he knew Cameron to be a compassionate person, but to drop all of her doubts so suddenly . . . . It seemed unlike her to be that naive.
Perhaps the woman was simply less vocal about her suspicions because she didn't know him well. It was possible that her politeness had forced her to put on the false pretense of concern even if she didn't believe his excuses. In the end, Wilson finally decided that he shouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth and he simply took her words at face value. He was far too stressed already to handle any extra contributions.
"Too long." He whispered bitterly.
The oncologist whimpered pathetically, leaning his head against her shoulder. He was overdoing it by more than a fair margin, but he didn't doubt that Cameron would buy the act. She wasn't quite as jaded or cynical as most and ultimately his uncharacteristic show of weakness would make her pity him more.
As expected, the immunologist patted his head, somewhat uncomfortably, but did not move away. He relaxed in her embrace, cherishing the fact that someone was comforting him in this trying time. For the sake of believability, he pulled away almost immediately, managing a sheepish smile.
"Cameron, I think you should leave." He said, sighing.
The brunette nodded jerkily, standing. "I understand." She confirmed. "If you . . .need anything . . ." She trailed off uncomfortably.
Wilson nodded, encouraging her departure with a soft smile. She migrated from the room, giving him one last concerned glance. For dramatics he dipped his head, cradling it with his hand in mimicked despair. The moment the door closed, he stood, trying to calm an unexpected bout of nerves.
He really shouldn't have lied to Cameron. Not for some half baked rule his best friend had created for entertainment purposes, at least. Maybe by refusing to enable House completely, by going after Cameron and telling her the truth, he could finally teach the man the value of respect . . .
He never would, of course. House had always possessed an uncanny knack for influencing people and this coveted power seemed to apply to his unconscious state as well. Wilson knew that should Cuddy herself demand answers from him, he'd still lie. It wasn't his place to tell them something like this, it wasn't his place to betray House.
As another wave of concern welled up, Wilson swore he'd make House pay. Things had gone too far too fast and he wasn't about to let the diagnostician get away with this kind of behavior. It was about time that something was done to help the man, to stop him from destroying himself. The oncologist didn't have it in him to rat out his friend, but he was more than comfortable with a spot of revenge.
Cameron's hand twitched uncomfortably against her side. She'd been given a burst of adrenaline by her anxious concern, but she was still no less tired. She could probably make it home, but she found she didn't have the heart to try. She would be paying for this decision later, she knew, when she was grumpy and miserable.
Oddly enough, this idea didn't bother her so much as leaving Wilson in such a venerable state would. He'd asked her to give him some alone time and she'd done so, but how long would it be before he needed a shoulder to cry on? She couldn't possibly desert him completely.
Allison, for one, had never realized that Wilson's father was in the hospital. That could be blamed on the fact that the two barely knew each other, but she preferred to think it was due solely to the man's amazing acting abilities. He'd obviously been in a lot of emotional pain, but had chosen to conceal his inner turmoil for the sake of his colleagues.
The idea of such selflessness struck Cameron as both sweet and unbearably tragic. Wilson was no longer the cheerful advice giver she'd imagined and instead seemed to be a truly damaged individual. Like House had often commented, Cameron felt compelled by the need to 'save' people. Wilson was no different, or was he?
The oncologist was the primary reason she'd decided to stay in the hospital despite her fatigue, but his well being wasn't her only concern. His behavior was suspicious and his reactions were odd. Cameron knew that people dealt with death in widely different ways, but she still found Wilson's actions to be slightly disturbing. Was it possible he was hiding something more?
Cameron's train of thought was derailed as she ran smack dab into a member of the nursing staff. They were both knocked down by the force of the collision and the papers the woman had been carrying were scattered all over the floor. Cameron righted herself slowly, moving to help the accosted nurse.
"I'm sorry," She tried to smile. "I guess I wasn't paying attention."
The woman, a young red head who wore too much makeup, shook her head. "Nah. Don't worry 'bout it. 'Snot your fault."
"Still . . ." Cameron insisted, putting the rest of the papers back in their manilla folder. " I should've been more careful."
The red head laughed. "You're too cute, what's your name?"
"Allison Cameron." The immunologist held out her hand, which was ignored.
"Ah." The woman nodded. She pointed to herself. "Lydia Monopolis . . . You know, like the game?"
Cameron's head bobbed in understanding. She picked up the discarded folder and stood, watching as the nurse did the same. The brunette handed over the parcel, smiling politely.
"Anyways, don't worry 'bout it." Lydia began. "I imagine I'd be all screwy too if my boss was about to kick the bucket." She joked.
"Excuse me?" Cameron quested.
"You know, Mr. Homer, or Condo, whatever. He's practically dead and you, being his dutiful subordinate," Lydia rolled her eyes in sarcasm. "Are naturally upset."
"I think you've got the wrong person . . ." Cameron interjected, walking around the neurotic care giver. "My boss's name is House."
Lydia huffed, obviously offended. "Whatever," She shrugged. "Not as if I'm gonna pay no homage to some crazy old cane-wielding gimpy anyhow."
Cameron looked back. "Did you say cane?"
Wilson wasn't sure what he was doing anymore. His feet, ever rebellious, had headed towards House's room and his whole body had followed. He blamed the suspicious hospital food.
He'd avoided seeing House's still form because he feared it would make him too emotional. That still hadn't changed, so he was at a loss to explain his body's reaction. There was no reason why he should go to see the collapsed doctor, no reason to put himself through the grinder, but his legs refused to obey his mind.
He turned into the hallway housing his friend's room. The diagnostician, whether due to his employment at the hospital, his respectful position as one of the most talented doctors in the known world, or his moderate income, had been given a great room. It wasn't quite as impressive as the absurdly large and private wings of the ridiculously wealthy, but it was more than comfortable in its own right.
It even had a window looking in. This would normally strike a patient as far too exposed, but the window was covered with a film that made everything inside blurry. From his position in the hallway, Wilson could just make out the silhouette of House in his hospital bed, with a nurse standing over him.
This posed a problem. It was far past regular visiting hours and the doctor was unsure if they'd make an exception to the long standing rules. More however, he felt uncomfortable asking for that type of special treatment.
He continued to the door with a barely perceptible pause. It was about time he stopped making excuses, especially where his friend's comfort was concerned. House deserved to face the full ramifications of his actions, of that Wilson was sure, but at the same time he felt it was cruel to cut the man off completely.
What if House woke up and no one was there? Wouldn't it just reinforce the idea that his existence was meaningless and empty? Regardless of what he'd done, Wilson couldn't find it in himself to subject the already damaged man to something like that.
With this newfound determination, he opened the door. The dark haired nurse looked up at his entrance and he was surprised to see a familiar visage. He froze in shock. The woman smiled up at him, not seeming to mind his reaction. She gave a little wave and in return he could only manage one trembling word.
"Stacy?"
This chapter was hard to write. I kept getting stuck and starting over because I thought the characters actions weren't true to form. I hope that this final version isn't too OOC, but if it is please tell me. With that in mind, any type of feedback is welcome!
The current votes tally up to Cameron/House: 2, Wilson/House: 5, and all other pairings: 0. I know that Cameron/House and Wilson/House are arguably some of the most popular pairings, but I have to wonder, where is everyone else? (Cuddy/House fans, Cameron/Chase fans, etc.) In any case, those who haven't voted will still have a undetermined amount of chapters left to do so. I've also decided to allow those who've already voted to vote again for a secondary pairing. So, vote away!