Rating: T
Warnings: None really.
Prompt: House/Wilson; Wilson non-consensually conducts surgery. Any rating.

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House heaved his heavy head up from the toilet bowl, and groaned. He relaxed his white knuckled grip on the toilet seat, wrapped one arm gently around his stomach, pulled himself up off the floor with the other, using the bathtub for leverage, and stumbled out of the bathroom.

Wilson was relaxing on the couch, either unaware of, or not troubled by, House's pain. House staggered the rest of the way to the couch, and carefully sat down in the vacant seat next to Wilson. "I need to go to the hospital," murmured House, voice just loud enough to be heard, "I think I have appendicitis."

Wilson snorted. "That's a likely story."

House held back another groan of pain. "It's the truth. You can check." House regretted it being necessary, but hoped it might help. He even added a please.

Wilson finally turned away from the TV to look House up and down. House was sure he must look as bad as he felt. Wilson's lips pursed in thought, it looked almost like a pout. After a moment, Wilson slowly raised his bag of chips and offered them to House. House shook his head, "Even if I was hungry, which I'm not, you know I couldn't eat them."

"Fine." Wilson got up off the couch. "Lie down," Wilson demanded. House slowly began to lower himself into a lying position. "Oh don't be so melodramatic." Wilson grabbed House by the shoulders and pushed him down. House winced and hugged his stomach, the jerking motion having aggravated the pain.

Wilson kneeled down, lifted the hem of House's shirt and palpated the lower right side of his abdomen, House yelped and tried to pull away. Wilson tried again to the same result.

"Was that second time really necessary?" asked House in a strained voice.

"Just making sure," replied Wilson. Wilson leisurely lifted himself up off the floor, and patted at imaginary dust on the legs of his pants.

"Hurry it up," moaned House.

Wilson disappeared for a moment, and reappeared with a first-aid kit. "You feel nauseated?" Wilson asked, as he took a digital thermometer out of the kit and placed it in House's mouth.

"No. I was just puking in the bathroom because I'm bulimic. Of course I do, you idiot."

Wilson took the thermometer out, read it and sighed. "You have a fever. I think you're right, it looks like appendicitis…"

"Thank you," House said sarcastically.

"…but I'm not taking you to the hospital."

House shot up into a sitting position, screamed in agony, then lay back down. "Well that was stupid," scolded Wilson.

"And you're insane. I need to go to the hospital, Wilson."

Wilson shook his head and laughed. "I have a full, sterile, med-kit in my car, as well as everything else I need. No reason I can't do it here. It's been a while, but I imagine it's like riding a bike. Or, I hope it is at least."

"You're insane!"

"Now you're just repeating yourself."

"I'll get an infection."

"Possible. I did clean today though. Don't worry, I'll get you something for it if you do."

House grabbed the phone, "I'm calling an ambulance. You've gone nuts."

Wilson snatched the phone before House could finish dialling. "Oh, no sorry, I can't let you do that, it could cause a problem. You see, well, funny thing actually, everyone kind of thinks you're dead. And when I say kind of… I mean they do. Buried you yesterday actually. Very nice service. You'd be surprised at how many people turned up. But now I'm just rambling, best get on with this before you have a rupture."

"Ha, ha, great, good one. All very funny. But can you just please take me to the god damn hospital now!" shouted House, as he tried to grab the phone back from Wilson with minimal movement.

"I'm sorry House. But I wasn't joking." House felt a pinch in his arm, and looked up to see Wilson holding a used syringe and looking apologetic. "Really, it just sort of got out of hand. Look on the bright side; at least you still have me." Then House fell asleep.