A/N: A sweet little interlude, before we get to the discussion in chapter 17. Hey, I needed the break, you kids needed the break, poor House, Wilson, and Cuddy needed the break! Besides, 'interlude' is a much prettier word than 'filler,' no? mjf :)
CHAPTER SIXTEEN: Whispers
When Cuddy quietly enters House's room an hour later, thinking that Wilson's had enough time to cool off, what she sees makes her smile.
House remains asleep. His face is relaxed, and both legs rest at normal angles to his body; there's no sign of the restlessness that's lately been a regular part of his sleep pattern.
Wilson's asleep too. He's slouched down in the chair, and he's got his legs up on the bed, and somehow he looks comfortable. Cuddy thinks this is probably the first time she's seen him sleep recently that he doesn't look as if he's gonna jump up and run to House's side in the next second. And why should he? she thinks. He's already where he needs to be; he can finally let himself relax.
Cuddy gently lifts Wilson's head and slips a pillow under it, then does the same with his left arm before she covers him with a blanket. Wilson doesn't even stir.
It's not quite time to hang a new bag of TPN yet, but Cuddy does it anyway; she doesn't want the sound of the pump to wake the men. She cautiously takes a set of vitals on House, but he's sleeping so soundly that he's undisturbed even by this.
She makes certain that the blinds are tightly closed against the dawn's light; it's after five o'clock, the sun'll be coming up soon. And Cuddy plans to allow these two to sleep as long as they can; it's the best thing for both of them right now. She leaves as quietly as she'd entered.
Cuddy returns to the kitchen, where she pours herself a fresh cup of coffee, then sits to jot down the latest set of vital signs. When she's finished writing the numbers, she closes the makeshift chart in front of her and looks down at it. It's already almost an inch thick, and it details only nine days in the unique treatment of a very unique patient.
What it doesn't say, Cuddy thinks to herself, is how all this has changed him. And… how it's changed us. There's no form in there listing next of kin, but if there were, the names on it would be ours; that stubborn, contrary, brilliant man has turned the three of us into a family, somehow. Brothers indeed, those two. Not certain if I'm the big sister, or the mom. Mom, probably; they do seem to need the supervision! She smiles fondly, remembering some of the pranks they've pulled. Anyway, doesn't matter; I fit here. They've welcomed me in. Wilson first; took House a lot longer to realize I really wanted to help. And somewhere along the line, he's started to learn how to trust again. Still a little rusty in the 'care and concern' department, but if anyone can make him comfortable with that, it's Wilson. He's the one person on the planet who House can't intimidate, the one person House isn't afraid to show his human side to. Well… maybe House is starting to come around with me, too. She allows herself a smile at that thought. "And yes, I'm proud of that,"she whispers aloud.
A noise from the direction of the bedroom catches her attention, and she goes to see what it is. She finds a drowsy Wilson helping an equally drowsy House down the hall to the bathroom. Wilson looks at her, puts a finger to his lips, and whispers, "Shh… we're still sleeping." Then he hands House his cane and watches him safely ambulate into the bathroom before leaning against the wall and closing his eyes.
"I wouldn't think of waking you," Cuddy whispers back, then just stands and watches until House comes out of the bathroom and hands the cane back to Wilson. Wilson tucks it under his arm, whispers, "I gotcha" to House, and—disregarding his own sprained wrist—supports House just enough to permit him to walk the short distance safely, almost on his own.
Cuddy follows them down the hall and into the bedroom. She puts her own finger to her lips when Wilson starts to speak, then she points to his abandoned chair. He smiles and shakes his head at her, but obediently burrows back into the chair while Cuddy resettles House comfortably and reattaches the TPN to the heplock. Then she checks on Wilson to make sure he's got the left arm elevated. He has, and he's already fallen back to sleep. Cuddy picks up the fallen blanket and covers him.
As she turns to leave, House, in that gentle state of half-sleep which turns even the most jaded adult into an innocent child, gives her an unguarded smile. He whispers, "Thanks," closes his eyes, and sighs into sleep.
As Cuddy closes the door silently behind her, she whispers back, to both of them, "You are so very welcome…."