To Feel In Control
Ch. 2
His arrival was about the same time, but his wardrobe was not and both Cuddy and Wilson noticed this. He tried to avoid them, but Wilson still approached.
"How are you today? No run?"
"Nope, no run. Wanted to sleep."
Wilson could tell that this was a lie, considering how tired House really looked. He couldn't hide that with some clean clothes and no limp.
"Sleep huh? Looks like you were lacking some last night. Anything I should know about?"
"Not really, just a rough night. Haven't had one in a while, but I can still deal with them."
"Pain?"
"No…just had a lot on my mind."
House got to his office and let himself in, Wilson didn't follow him. He believed that House wasn't completely lying, but was a little concerned that he let him call him on his lies. Usually he denied them altogether or they were too good that he could pawn them off as the truth. The team had a good case and that helped take over and erase the dream he had had over the night. He just let it go, told himself it didn't mean anything and kept on going with life as it was. He was in a whole different spirit since his getting shot and the Ketamine. He enjoyed his runs and the lack of limp he had. He felt better about himself and it was apparent through his work. He was even more accurate than he was prior to the shooting and could create much more chaos now that he was mobile. He ventured outdoors more frequently and could be found on a skateboard from time to time. Everyone seemed to enjoy the pain free version of the brilliant doctor. He was still sarcastic as hell, and was still the same House, but the crabby side had been dulled and that was good for everyone.
He met Wilson for lunch and they had a good time. The usual discussions of who was hot, who was not and what they should do with their free time. It was the typical discussion until Wilson brought up this mornings conversation.
"You seem better than you were this morning."
"Why do you say that?"
"You look better, less distracted, less tired."
"Coffee will do that to you."
"Sure you didn't have something on your mind? It's not your leg is it? You need to tell me if it is."
"I did have something on my mind, but it's gone now."
"And your leg?"
"Will you stop pestering me if I tell you?"
"Sure."
"I had an intense dream, I was under water and I couldn't reach the air and my leg hurt…a lot. But it was just a dream, no pain, nothing. I'm fine, nothing to worry about. I just let the dream get to me."
"Alright. But if something was wrong you would let me know right?"
"Of course, this is my health we are talking about."
Both pagers went off and they had to scurry away from lunch and handle the latest problems in their cases. They didn't discuss anything further that day and met again after work at House's this time. More frequently they had been hanging out, House didn't have any increased pain to hide and they had gotten close since House's rehab from the shooting had him at home for weeks. He hadn't gotten Wilson to run with him, but that was fine with him. He enjoyed his free time alone with the outdoors and working up a sweat.
They spent the evening together, take out and movies, the usual. They mutually enjoyed each other's company and were glad that they had time to spend with each other. The shooting made Wilson realize that House could just leave him one day and he wasn't ready for that. They are brothers, and one cannot be without the other. It was pretty late when Wilson left. He left House snoozing on the couch, leaving a note on the coffee table saying that they would see each other tomorrow he let himself out. He knew House was tired from the night before; the dream must have really shaken him. Wilson was tired himself and didn't mind leaving.
He was on the couch for a good amount of time, he was as Wilson thought, still tired from the night before and didn't feel that he had enough energy for a run that night, or else he would have before he zonked out on the couch with Wilson watching the movie. The hours passed and he slept on his couch. Suddenly he heard his alarm go off and he sat up. He reached over with his right hand and hit the alarm to turn it off so he could think. He fell asleep on the couch at around 11 and it was now 9:20 and he was in his bed. He felt rested but knew that Wilson did not put him in bed. Feeling very confused he got ready for work and through out that morning repeated to himself, "What the hell is going on? Am I ok?"