„House! Watch out! What are you doing?!"
They were standing by the road and House chose his moment to leave exactly when one very big truck was quickly nearing them.
"Don't try to stop me!" His voice was cold and Wilson wasn't sure if he'd ever heard House speaking to him so before.
In the moment when House's right leg - along with his cane - met the road, the truck hit him hard on his left side and smashed him onto the surface of the road. There was an ear-tearing, agonizing tone of the breaks and then only silence.
Wilson froze and was unable to breath.
No. This wasn't happening...It couldn't be truth. House couldn't be dead...
House's body wasn't visible, because it probably stayed under the truck, but Wilson saw a pool of blood forming by the front right tire.
"No!" He screamed and the yell was so loud in his ears that he thought it might tear them off.
Panting, sweating and not-far-away-from-infarction, Wilson woke up for the umpteenth time. House kept dying in his dreams and Wilson couldn't help him. It had been a car crash or a gun shot or some terminal disease and every time the dream had ended with House's death and Wilson's sense of being powerless to help.
He switched the bedside lamp on to lighten the room and to fight off the scary image, which he still had in front of his eyes. He stood up from his bed and went slowly into the kitchen, where he poured himself a glass of water and slid down into the small chair. His hotel room's kitchen was cold and small, but right now, he felt better here, in a bright light, than in his bed.
Still, he was breathing very heavily and his mind was only slowly absorbing the fact, that it all had been only a nightmare. But he couldn't believe it.
Wilson grabbed his phone and dialed his friend. He simply had to check on him, had to hear his voice, had to know that he was alright.
After the fifth ring House picked up. "Who the hell are you?" A raspy voice asked. Obviously, House hadn't looked on the screen before answering the phone.
"House, it's me. I...sorry to wake you up, but are you okay?" Wilson asked carefully.
"What? What the hell are you talking about? You call me at 3.30 in the morning to ask me if I'm okay?" House was already pretty annoyed, but otherwise sounded good and healthy. It calmed Wilson enough.
"Yeah, sorry. I didn't mean to disturb you." Wilson added apologetically.
"Well, obviously you did! You'd better have some good explanation, but not now. I want to sleep!" House spelled the word 'sleep' loudly. "Some people have to go to work in the morning, you know?"
"Uhm, yeah, I'm sorry. Goodnight..." There was already only the beeping of the phone on House's line.
Wilson sighed, when he put the cell back down onto the table.
Of course House has been alright the whole time!
How could Wilson get so distracted from one bad dream? But it was so vivid...so real. Wilson knew that he wouldn't sleep that night again. He just couldn't.
He got back into his room and sat on the top of the sheets of his bed. After a while he started surfing through the channels - maybe the TV would change his mind.
The next day at work, Wilson was asleep on his feet. He tried not to neglect his duties, but around noon he just collapsed on the couch in his office.
His nap lasted only 30 minutes, because then House found his moment to come in. He was still slightly pissed at Wilson for calling him at night, but it wasn't the reason of his arrival. Right now he was just hungry and wanted to drag his friend along to the lunch.
"Good mooorning!" House yelled too loudly, when he saw Wilson on the couch.
Wilson awoke with the shock. "What?" He sat up sharply and blinked few times. The weird thing was that, on the couch, the nightmares left him alone.
"No surprise you're asleep! I bet you were up the whole night and had nothing better to do than to call me." House replied angrily.
Wilson rolled his eyes and dragged himself to his feet. House's eyes were still piercing him. "What's wrong with you?" House asked with only very slight concern somewhere deep in his voice.
"Me? Nothing. Just a bad night, that's all. I assume you want me to buy you lunch?" Wilson quickly added to change the theme.
House played along but still he was searching Wilson from head to toe with his diagnostician's eyes. "Yep. I'm starving!" He added in dramatic tone.
Wilson only sighed, grabbed his wallet from his coat's pocket and followed House out of the door.
"Movie night tonight." House announced when they were sitting at the small table. Wilson wasn't that alert, so stealing the food from his plate wasn't very hard work for House.
They had been planning the movie night for a long time already. Now House felt that there was another reason to do it: He needed to keep his eyes on Wilson, because something was going on and House was going to find out what it was.
Wilson frowned and yawned. "Oh, no, it's not the best idea."
"You promised to come!" House showed his you-hurt-my-feelings face.
"House, I need to get some sleep tonight, I really didn't sleep well yesterday."
"You can sleep on my couch. As far as I know, you've never had any problems with sleeping there while staying with me." House's tone was demanding, and Wilson felt that he wouldn't escape easily, so he capitulated.
"Ok, I'm coming, but only as an apology for waking you up last night."
"Apology accepted," House smirked and got up from the table. There wasn't anything tasty left for him on Wilson's plate.
Wilson only rolled his eyes and hoped that the next night would be really better for him.
The movies and food were great and Wilson felt good. The stress from recent days had flowed away. Around one o'clock in the morning they decided to go to sleep.
House popped his pills and Wilson couldn't help but comment. "You know, they are going to kill you!"
House sighed and hid the bottle back in his pocket. "You'd better try to not wake me up in the middle of night," he snapped and limped towards the bedroom.
Wilson sighed. "Goodnight, House," he called after his friend.
" 'night." The mumbled reply came from already darkened room and Wilson heard House shifting slowly in his bed.
He shook his head and after his regular round in the bathroom he made himself comfortable on the couch and felt asleep as well.
He woke up early and glanced at his watch. His alarm clock was set on 7.30, but now it was only 7 am. He decided to stand up and prepared something for the breakfast in the free time.
When the pancakes were ready and the coffee was hot and steaming, he looked at his watch again - almost 8.30. House should get up as well or Cuddy is going to kill him, Wilson thought and went towards his friend's bedroom to fulfill an unpleasant mission, which waking House up was.
House was lying on his side, his back turned to Wilson.
"House! Wake up, it's late." Wilson started, and naturally got no response.
"House! Don't fake the sleeping, I know you hear me. Wake up!" But House was an ass, this really wasn't enough to get him out of the bed in the morning, and Wilson knew it.
He stepped closer to the bed and shook House. "House! Don't make me to use force." When there was again no response to his words, he sighed.
"Okay, I warned you!" He removed the blanket from House and threw it onto the foot of the bed. However his friend's body didn't move at all.
Wilson shook with him harder and rolled him onto his back, but House didn't respond.
A wave of panic rushed through Wilson's veins. He's unconsciousness! Next infarction? What?
He slapped House's cheek, but there wasn't even a stir. Wilson laid his ear over House's mouth and listened for breath sounds. Nothing.
He felt his heart beating in his throat when he put his fingers on House's neck to feel the pulse. A cold sensation ran down his spine when he felt nothing again.
Wilson didn't know what to do. He felt tears building in his eyes as he tried to shake House back into life. "House! No! What have you done!?" It felt like he was screaming forever. "House! HOUSE!"
Suddenly, someone was shaking him instead.
"Wilson! Shut up and wake up!" He heard House's voice. Wilson opened his eyes and blinked several times. He was clutching a pillow in his arms and he felt sweat pouring on his back and forehead. His eyes were wet...
He didn't want to humiliate himself in front of House, but the dream was so real that he just couldn't stop his tears, and he started to shiver.
"Hey! What's wrong? I thought I said something about not waking me up in the middle of the night!" House smirked, but then sighed and slid down onto to the couch next to Wilson and continued. "And screaming my name really didn't help it."
Wilson was still shivering, breathing disjointedly and sobbing from time to time. House felt that this wouldn't be easy, but he wanted some answers.
"You're getting better though," he said after a quick glance at the shining watch in the corner. "5.30, it's almost morning."
Wilson sighed and nodded slightly. It felt nice to have House's warm body next to him; to know, that he was safe, alive. He scooted a few inches closer, but being careful to not touch House, because he knew House's rules.
To his rather large surprise, House put his hand awkwardly on Wilson's shoulder, though without trying to move him closer. "Bad dream?" He asked carefully; almost too carefully for House's usual behavior.
Wilson realized that he was still shivering. Shit. He didn't want to tell House, because it was embarrassing - at least Wilson thought it was.
"I don't know, I don't remember," he lied and House cursed inwardly. He wasn't good at emotional stuff and he now regretted trying.
They sat in silence for a while and then Wilson withdrew himself from the touch. He was sure it was uncomfortable for his friend, even if it wasn't really truth. He looked down at his T-shirt, which was soaked with the sweat and rumpled.
"I think I need a shower," he stated quietly and stood up slowly from the couch.
House nodded and got up as well. "Do you think I can sleep now?" He asked, almost teasingly, but still with the weird bit of concern.
"Yeah, go ahead, I'll be fine." Wilson lowered his head. "And sorry for waking you up again." He added before he vanished into the bathroom. House only shook his head and limped towards his bedroom. Evidently Wilson wasn't in the mood to talk about his problem, and House wouldn't force him to do it.
Thanks for reading! There will be more soon.