024. Cancer
Spamalot
There were times when Wilson doubted his decision to go into Oncology. Days like today were a point in fact. He'd had five appointments today, all bad. The best result had been treatment and maybe she would live. Maybe. The rest…well, they'd try treatment but it probably wouldn't work. Each case was advanced, they probably only had months, maybe a year to live. He'd gone into medicine to heal people, not to tell them they were going to die no matter what they did. He hated days like this, the despair and helplessness ate away at him like the cancer he treated.
"Monty Python marathon."
Wilson looked up and saw that House was leaning against the low wall that separated their sections of the balcony.
"What?"
"Monty Python marathon," House repeated as he tapped his cane impatiently against the ground. "Tonight. Bring beer."
Wilson blinked. "What are they showing?" he said, feeling slightly dazed.
"Life of Brian, Meaning of Life, Holy Grail," House replied. "All the good stuff."
A small smile curled Wilson's lips. "It's just a flesh wound."
"What are you going to do, bleed on me?" House said with a grin.
Wilson laughed and felt the horrible helplessness start to slip away. "What time?"
"Seven," House replied then he gave Wilson a look of utter mischief.
"House…" Wilson said warningly.
House ignored him and with that wicked grin he limped back into his office. Wilson scrambled over the low wall and opened the door just in time to see House open the door into the corridor and limp out bellowing, "Bring out your dead! Bring out your dead!"
Wilson walked into House's office and collapsed into his chair, laughing helplessly, something he could handle much better than his previous helplessness.