Poison and Wine

Chapter 3

Author's Note: There's a certain quotation in here that doesn't belong to me. RSL/Lamby Tape fans will probably spot it and laugh. :)

They sat on a park bench the next day, taking shelter in the shade from the late August sun. It had been Wilson's idea to drive down to the lake and take a walk, and despite his complaints about the suffocating feeling of the small, cluttered apartment, House suspected that he'd just wanted fresh air. He'd forgone breakfast and only nibbled on a PB&J for lunch, and House wondered how much effort it had taken just to eat the Chinese food the night before.

"This is nice," Wilson said. He took a deep breath, his gaze resting gently on the shimmering waters of the lake. House noted the long jeans that Wilson had chosen over the summer shorts that he used to wear.

"Not enough nature where you were?" he asked.

"Vegas and LA aren't all they're cracked up to be." Wilson shifted in his seat to get more comfortable, a small smile forming on his face. "A guy I met there once told me that LA was just a soulless, bleached-out pit."

"Sounds like Cuddy's heart," House muttered.

"Or yours," Wilson snorted.

House cocked his head to the side. "Maybe our soulless, bleached-out hearts were a sign that we were supposed to be together."

"Or maybe Cuddy's heart was just fine."

"You weren't there. You wouldn't know."

And Wilson couldn't argue with that, so he didn't.

"Your team must miss you," he said instead.

"Please," House scoffed. "Foreman's probably already basking in dictatorial glory. And I'm sure the other ducklings couldn't care less that daddy's gone."

"Any new doctors?"

"Nope. Still stuck with the Australian and the hot bi chick. Not complaining about that last one, though."

"So Chase is back on the team. Cameron and Kutner ditch you for good?" Wilson asked.

"Yep."

"Where'd they go?"

House shrugged. "Cameron divorced Chase and ran like hell. As if we didn't all see that one coming."

"They got married? Jesus. What about Kutner? Don't tell me he married and divorced Thirteen."

"He's dead. Killed himself."

"….Oh," Wilson said softly.

There was a pause. "Did you marry and divorce Amber?" House asked.

Wilson smirked. "Nice transition."

"I bet you got married in Vegas with a rabbinical Elvis. Mazel tov."

"Actually, we never got married."

House frowned. "You ran away with that Cutthroat Bitch for five years, and you never even got married?"

"She didn't want to. Marriage is…marriage ties you down. You know, binding contracts, whatever. She just wanted to live."

"To live without any commitments, not even to you? That sounds very adult."

"Like you're one to talk, House. Anyway, we were committed to each other. We just never felt the need to legalize it."

"Right."

"For what it's worth, we haven't been together in about a year."

"What happened?"

Wilson shrugged. "Wanna go for another walk?"

They continued their walk around the lake, passing children with kites and grandparents tossing breadcrumbs to the passing ducks. It was a few minutes before Wilson began, his eyes squinting in the sunlight as he kept his hands stuffed in his pockets.

"We stayed in Vegas for the first year," he said at last. "We got our own place eventually, but our savings only lasted so long, and Amber hadn't even begun to pay off her loans…"

"It's called a job. You had one once, back here." House didn't tell him how long Cuddy had kept his position open, hoping that Wilson would return; how often he himself had been only steps away from the door until he remembered that the Head of Oncology's office was no longer occupied.

"Amber didn't want either of us to get one. She said…" Wilson paused to find his words, keeping his eyes looking ahead to avoid House's gaze. "It was this whole new life philosophy thing. Working wasn't a part of it."

House didn't falter, though his mind was whirring. This was James Wilson, Dr. Prepared, life planner extraordinaire. It didn't make sense. "And you seriously bought that crap?"

"I worked a few nights a week," Wilson admitted. "Amber met this group of women that she went out with, you know, to clubs or whatever. I wasn't lying when I told her I wasn't interested. I just…also happened to make some extra money at one of the hotel bars while she was gone. I told her I won it gambling."

House tried to imagine Wilson in a starched white shirt and black bow tie, serving margaritas instead of death sentences and replenishing peanuts instead of chemo bags.

Wilson turned to him then. "You must think I'm crazy."

"No, I think Amber was crazy. But you're talking to someone who was actually certified insane." House waved his hand. "Continue."

"Well, a year of that got boring, obviously, and her second choice was LA. We stayed with one of her friends from med school until we found a cheap apartment."

"And then?"

"And then, we just…lived."

"Lived as in, more partying for her and more secret bartending for you?"

Wilson shrugged. "I still loved her," he said, as if some sort of explanation was required. "I wanted what she wanted."

"What she wanted was a life of no responsibility. Almost dying doesn't magically make that okay."

"But it did make it okay, for her. And I made it work. We had a great four years together, House."

"And the fifth year?" House asked.

Wilson inhaled deeply. "I met someone," he said, and House snorted.

"Typical. Who was she?"

"Met her at the bar."

"Probably some chick being abused by her boyfriend and latching on to the cute bartender for comfort – prime definition of neediness," House mused, ignoring Wilson's eye-roll. "Did you sleep with her?"

"Not until after I told Amber, and she left me."

House sighed melodramatically. "Oh, Wilson. When will you ever learn…"

"I wasn't going to lie to her, House. I still loved her."

"Yeah, you loved her enough to cheat on her. Sounds like a match made in Wilson heaven."

"Anyway," Wilson continued, ignoring him, "I moved in with Amanda for about a year."

"And then?"

"And then…" Wilson stopped to kick a pebble on the ground, watching it bump along the path until it curved and rolled down into the lake. "I went to the doctor, one thing led to another…"

House stopped beside him. "Of course you'd ignore your symptoms and wait too long," he said. "Once an oncologist, always an oncologist."

"Maybe." Wilson withdrew his eyes from the lake, meeting House's gaze. "I don't want chemo just to buy some extra time," he said.

"I know."

"I just…I want to live, the way Amber did. Maybe almost dying doesn't change things, but dying does. It has to."

House nodded. "I know," he said again, and Wilson turned back to the lake.

"I didn't know what I wanted to do," he said softly. "I just knew I couldn't die without seeing you again."

House turned to look at the lake with him. He watched the sunlight cast a shimmering glow on the water as ducks paddled happily across, in search of breadcrumbs and companionship.

"Come on," he said, nudging Wilson's ankle with his cane. "As long as you're staying with me, you may as well buy my dinner."

Wilson raised his eyebrows. "Hungry already?"

"Unlike you, I still have an appetite. Which means that I can eat all of your food, instead of just half."

"I don't suppose you'd ask my permission first."

"Good God, no."

Wilson shook his head, laughing a little as they turned and began to walk in the direction of the car. "I guess some things never change."

"Admit it," House grinned. "You miss me stealing your food."

"Once an ass, always an ass?"

"You're a fast learner, Jimmy."

"I certainly try."

TBC