Title: R.I.C.E. in Reverse [4/4]
Author: Phate_Phoenix
Prompt : 9. House/Wilson – "When everything is wrong, I'll come talk to you" (My Best Friend - Weezer)
Pairing: Canon House/Cuddy, House/Wilson
Rating/Warning: PG-13; Swearing, Spoilers for 'THE GREATER GOOD', Vengeful!House, Hurt!Wilson
Summary: An AU of 'The Greater Good' caused by a simple… twist. What if Wilson fhad discovered that Dana Miller was House's patient just an hour earlier? Cuddy won't know what hit her.
Beta: Cielo_Claro at LiveJournal.
Disclaimer: DO NOT OWN.
Notes: Written for the House_Of_Fanfic (of LiveJournal) Annual Contest.

XXXX

R: Rejoice
To celebrate; To fill with joy

House sat in his office, rolling the large red and grey ball between his hands. He stared out his window, propping his leg onto the lower shelf of his bookcase. His mind, however, was hours behind, contemplating the next in a long line of strange Wilson-behavior.

Namely, calling about Dana Miller's biopsy.

House and Taub—the only member left from the original team—had been waiting in the conference room for Wilson to page them about how the biopsy went when the phone began to ring. House, being closest to the phone, had made Taub pick it up.

Once it was established that Wilson was on the other line, House had taken the phone.

"That's funny," House had said into the mouth piece, "all doctors have these… little funny things given to us, so that we can quickly meet one another. I wish I could remember what they were called…"

"I'm sorry. I just… I'm heading back to my apartment. "

House had felt the similar coil of annoyance and, irritatingly, hurt in his stomach. "Every time you talk to that woman, you can't stand to be around me anymore. Are you cheating on me with her?"

Wilson's laugh had been pathetically weak. "No… it's not that. It's not… really you. It's me. "

"Oh God. You are breaking up with me."

"No! No, just… Listen, I couldn't do the biopsy. "

"What? Why not? Your needle too big and hard for her?"

"Oh shut up. The area began to bleed too much. Mesothelioma doesn't bleed. "

"Then what does?"

"That's your job, isn't it? " Wilson had sighed. "Look, I'll be better tomorrow. I just… I have to figure out how to do…"

"Do what?"

"Do… something, House. I have to figure out how to do something."

And then Wilson had hung up. Not four minutes later, Dana Miller began to bleed from every orifice. The rest of the night was spent in a frantic rush for his two still-functioning fellows to save her before she bled out. It was long after midnight that Dana was stabilized, which meant House had spent another night in a rather restless sleep, granted it was in his own bed this time, and he was able to change his clothes and shower.

"House."

House rolled his head around to get a better look as Taub strode into the room, scowling. Kutner slouched in behind him, hands deep in his pockets. They stopped in front of House's desk, staring down at him while House twisted back around in his chair to face them. Taub held up the blue folder that House immediately recognized as his patient's.

"We have an update on Miller," Taub said, placing his empty hand on the desk. He glowered at House's single raised eyebrow. Then he smirked. "Personally, I think we should discuss what we should do about her," Taub began, and shrugged his shoulders as he continued to say, "unless you want to mope about how your boyfriend is spending all his free time with another woman?"

House scowled at him before slowly pushing himself to his feet. "I'm not moping," he growled, snatching the file out of Taub's hand and grabbing his crutch from its spot against the wall.

Kutner's eyebrows shot upwards immediately. "You didn't deny that Wilson was your boyfriend," he pointed out as House limped around him and Taub.

House stared at Kutner over his shoulder as he left his office, the fellows a few steps behind. "I also didn't say I wasn't a woman. Do you want me to drop my pants so that you can confirm?"

Kutner winced and Taub rolled his eyes at his friend. Then he strode up beside House and peaked at the current page in the folder. "We're lucky that Miller didn't drown in her own blood," Taub said. "We had to install drainage hoses through her stomach so that the blood wouldn't build up like that again."

Kutner nodded, striding up along House's other side. "We're barely keeping up with how much blood she's losing. We actually had to air-lift more blood from surrounding hospitals, or else we'd run out in a day or two." House glanced at him as he handed over the file. Kutner shrugged and thumbed through the pages. "It's a good thing she's type AB, or we'd be in real trouble."

As the group rounded a corner, Taub said, "We have to stop those tumors from bleeding, or she may not last long enough to run out of blood."

House scowled, picking up his pace. "What we have to do is go on the offensive," he declared, earning two confused looks. House smiled cheerfully. "In order to make the tumors stop vomiting blood, we stop feeding the tumors blood."

Taub frowned at House. "Embolization?"

House nodded and stopped in the middle of the hallway. "Start at her lungs," he said, ignoring Kutner's wide-eyed stare, "because otherwise she won't be able to talk Wilson into ignoring me anymore."

Kutner shook his head. "That could kill off a lot of healthy lung tissue," he argued.

"But not doing it," House said, glaring, "could kill the patient."

Taub and Kutner glanced at one another before heading towards the elevators. House watched them until the doors shut, and then he continued forward, planning on looping back towards his office. The walking, and the pain, helped him think, helped him focus. It helped him work.

As House made the final turn on his leg back to his office, a flutter of white to his right caught his eye. He paused, turning towards the color and spied a frazzled-looking Cuddy, sitting on a bench. In her hands was House's cane, and tied to its end was a white handkerchief.

A white flag.

She looked up at him when he stopped a few paces from her, and she smiled weakly, waving the cane back and forth. "I've come to surrender," she declared, and held the cane out to House.

"I see my final assault got through to you," House said smugly as he limped towards her.

Cuddy rose to her feet as House drew nearer, sighing and shaking her head. "Moving my car and getting me a three-hundred dollar ticket was bad enough, House," Cuddy said, shaking his cane at him. "Did you really have to hack my computer to replace Rachel's live feed with a continuous loop of lesbian porn?" She glared at him, but the corners of her lips were twitching upwards. "I had to tell the technician that it was a virus. I don't think he believed me."

House reached out and grabbed hold of his cane, feeling the familiar wood beneath his hands. "You stole my markers," he said, glaring. "No one touches my markers, unless I say so."

Cuddy raised her eyebrows and released the cane into House's grip. "Duly noted," she said. Then she paused, frowning at him. "I won't apologize."

House stared at her, brows furrowed, and leaned the cane against the bench. "I'd think less of you if you did." He frowned then, honest bewilderment darting through his eyes. "All I want to know is why you decided now was a good time to punish me for being me."

Cuddy sighed and closed her eyes, rubbing a hand against the side of her face. "I guess…" she began, slowly, opening her eyes and meeting House's gaze, "I guess I was hurt."

House blanked for several long moments. "For what?" he asked. "I don't remember being any greater a jerk than usual to you."

Cuddy grimaced and turned away. "For… not changing. For not becoming who I wanted you to be the moment Rachel came into my life." She looked over at House, eyes soft, sad. "I guess I hoped that… maybe you'd be more accommodating. Maybe even happy for me. Everyone else in the hospital is. I guess I thought… maybe…"

House stared at her. "You thought that baby vomit would turn me from a frog into a prince?"

Cuddy smiled awkwardly, folding her hands in front of her. "Yes, I suppose I did. And when that fairytale didn't come true…" She shrugged, tilting her head to the side briefly. "It hurt."

For a moment, House stood still in the empty hallway, just staring, comprehending. Then he took another step forward, entering her space. Cuddy turned towards him once more, lifting her head slightly. Mere inches apart, they were breathing each other's air.

"This is me," House said at last, "this is all you're going to get. This isn't a two-for-one deal—I'm prepackaged, not for individual sale. You take the genius with the jackass. You can't have one or the other. It's all or nothing." House leaned forward, lips brushing against Cuddy's. "So take it or leave it."

Cuddy's hands lifted upwards, wrapping around House's neck, and pressed her lips against his. House brought up his one free hand, burying it into her hair, and quickly deepened the kiss. Briefly, quickly, their tongues touched before Cuddy's retreated back into her mouth. Her hands slid from around his neck, down his chest, and paused at House's hips. And that was when House knew.

This wasn't a romantic kiss. It wasn't an exploratory kiss. It wasn't a test, or a reminder, or a promise. It wasn't anything of the sort.

It was a goodbye.

Cuddy gently put pressure on House's hips, and he pulled back slowly. When he opened his eyes he found hers already open, so blue and soft and resigned. She smiled at him before stepping back, and House let his hand fall from her hair. She ran a hand over her mouth, dropping her gaze to the floor, and exhaled.

"One last time, House," she said gently, slowly meeting his gaze. "I'm sorry that this can't work."

House slowly nodded. "You'll get over me," he declared, wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand. "You've got your squishy pink thing at home." Then, he leered at her. "And that was the best turn down I've ever had," he said, smirking.

Cuddy rolled her eyes and then leered back at him. "You practically threw yourself at me," she said, running a hand through her hair. "You can't expect me to just turn that away, can you?" She then paused, fingers stilling. She frowned slightly. "Are you…okay?" she asked, watching him.

House actually was okay, because he'd been expecting this. He'd been waiting for the small thing between Cuddy and himself to fall apart ever since Rachel had come into Cuddy's life. Because children changed everything—they changed lives and forced people to alter their plans. That was probably why House's father had never had (or wanted) any children before or after House. It was also probably why his mother had gotten pregnant in the first place. Children changed things. How things changed was always a crapshoot, though.

"I'm fine," House said, picking up his cane and inspecting it. Leaning heavily against the axillary support of his crutch, he peeled the white handkerchief from the end of it and held it out for Cuddy to take. "You, however, should hurry to the nearest bathroom and stock up on tampons." At Cuddy's blank stare, House smirked. "You've gone from weepy to horny to perky back to weepy; if it isn't your time of the month—"

House froze, eyes widening. Cuddy snatched the handkerchief from House and stuffed it into her front pocket. She then planted her hands onto her hips, raising an eyebrow. "Are you stuck? Do I need to smack you upside the head to get you going again?"

House's lips quirked into a grin, and he tapped the handle of his cane to his head in a mock salute. "I have a patient to save."

Cuddy shook her head as House darted past her, still using the crutch to move while he carried the cane in his other hand. Just as he was about to reach the elevator button, the doors opened and exposed Wilson standing on the other side, foot still wrapped and crutch still in use. House grinned wide.

"Well, would you look at that!" he chirped. Wilson winced, rubbing the back of his neck. He stepped out of the elevator, but pressed his free hand against the door, preventing them from closing.

"I need to talk to you," Wilson said, a faint blush on his face. He cleared his throat and adjusted his crutch unconsciously. "Now."

House smiled at him, wickedly. "Sorry, but I have to go save your mistress," he said cheerfully.

Wilson rolled his eyes, but he smiled anyway. "You sound like a jealous wife." Then he looked at House's hands, spying the cane in his grasp. "Cuddy returned it?"

House grinned. "The war is over, and I have won." He shifted the crutch out from under his arm and held it out to Wilson. "You now can have your set completed once again."

Wilson shifted, placing his good foot against the elevator door and took the crutch from House. "Thanks for taking such good care of it," he said. He glanced over his shoulder. "I'll wait for you in your office," he said at last, meeting House's gaze again. "Have fun." Wilson stepped back, and House watched as the elevator doors closed him off.

Once the elevator stopped at the second floor, House quickly made his way through the intensive care unit and to his patient's room. As soon as he walked through the doorway, he limped his way to the foot of his patient's bed, where he watched her with cool, scanning eyes. Dana Miller's tired, sleepy gaze scanned back, however. House smirked at her. "I can see why Wilson spent so much time with you."

Taub and Kutner, who had been prepping the embolization, stopped and watched their boss. Kutner's eyes dropped to House's hand. "Hey, you've got your cane back!" he said, smiling. He looked up to House's face, bouncing slightly on his heels. "Did we win?"

House raised an eyebrow at him before smirking back. "Victory is ours," he affirmed, and turned back to Dana. "Are you menstruating?"

Taub's hands jerked and he nearly dropped a needle. Kutner snickered, grinning. Dana merely nodded.

House beamed. "She's bleeding from her uterus!" he declared cheerfully. Taub sent Kutner a small smile before turning back to House.

"That happens to most women," Taub said slowly. "It's part of their natural cycle. When your health class gets to the section on puberty, you'll understand."

House sneered at him, tapping the floor with his cane impatiently. "What does menstruation have in common with what's happening to our patient?"

Kutner shot Taub a quick glance before saying, "Uh… there's a lot of blood?"

House rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Not what I was going for, but close enough. She's bleeding everywhere, and from her uterus. At the same time. The probability that something like this happens as a coincidence… not so great."

Taub and Kutner glanced between each other again. House sighed. "Ectopic endometriosis," he declared, and Taub closed his eyes, his head leaning back. House sneered. "Yeah, you better feel dumb," he said. He leaned against his cane, staring down at Dana. "When she had her surgery to remove her myoma," House began, "endometrial cells were spread throughout her body. They planted themselves like seeds in her spine, lungs, liver, and heart, where they began to sprout and grow. Once these areas were big enough, they began to act just like they would in her uterus. They began to swell, and they began to bleed."

Kutner's face contorted into disgust. "Oh, that is just gross."

House smirked at him. "The worst period ever."

Taub sighed, shaking his head. "So all we need to do is keep her stable long enough for her cycle to end so that the masses can be cut out."

House smirked, tapping his cane against the floor. "And you need to bring the woman some Midol."

As Taub and Kutner turned to the patient, smiles on their faces, House limped from the room and started back towards the elevators. He smirked as he boarded the half-full compartment, earning several nervous glances from the other doctors and nurses. Most of them got off on the third floor, and the rest stayed on as House left at the fourth. His post-puzzle high quickly ended, however, when he spied Wilson standing in his office, tossing House's red and grey ball between his hands. Both crutches were leaning against the glass desk. He slowed his walk, watching Wilson through the windows and blinds, trying to decipher why the other man was waiting, what he needed to talk about this time.

When House came up with nothing, he quickened his pace and burst through his office door, startling Wilson into dropping the ball. As Wilson turned his wide-eyed gaze upon House, the ball bounced and rolled to House's feet. Wilson laughed awkwardly, rubbing the back of his head. House merely kicked the ball to the other corner of his room and limped further inside. The door closed silently behind him.

"So, now what do you want to talk about?" House asked, raising both his eyebrows.

Wilson looked at where the ball had rolled before turning back to House. "Dana Miller and I… we've been talking a lot recently."

House rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know," he grumbled. "Every time you do, you avoid me like I'm Typhoid Mary."

Wilson nodded, slowly. "I know," he said, "and I'm sorry about that." Wilson shook his head a little. "But that's the point," he said, sounding nervous. He ran a hand through his hair and swallowed. "She made me think about some things. Things I've… beaten back in order to make myself feel better."

House stared blankly at him. "Distancing yourself from things that might make you miserable?" he droned, sarcasm dripping from his words. "That doesn't sound like you at all."

Wilson scowled, planting his hands on his hips and glared at him. "I know that," he snapped. "But I was scared."

"Of what?" House cried, throwing his hands briefly into the air.

Wilson looked out the window. "Of not getting what I wanted," he said.

House froze as Wilson inhaled, exhaled, and swallowed.

"And then…" Wilson began, somewhat breathlessly, "I was thinking… about what you said yesterday."

House frowned, brows quickly furrowing. Wilson, however, continued to speak. "You said… people who are in love do stupid things. They do things they'd never otherwise do. They overlook the things most important to them, all for another person."

House kept his gaze steadily on Wilson, but his hand clenched tighter around the handle of his cane. "That's what I said," he admitted slowly. Then he sneered. "Did you bring a tape recorder to our conversation or something?" He then thumped his cane against the floor. "Are we honestly going to have another heart-to-heart conversation?" he whined. "Because I just had one with Cuddy a little while ago, and I really don't want to do it again."

Wilson clenched and unclenched his fists, staring at the floor. Then he looked back up, a small, nervous smile flitting across his lips. "No," he said, limping forward without his crutches. "No more talking. I promise."

House watched as Wilson entered House's personal bubble. He stiffened, scanning Wilson's face for any clue, unsure of how to respond to such a violation. "What… what are you doing?" he asked, brows furrowing.

Wilson grinned, laughing softly. "I'm not… doing nothing," he said, locking his gaze with House's.

A thrill of excitement ran through House, starting from his stomach and shooting up his spine. He ignored it, however, and raised an eyebrow at him. "That really narrows it down," he said.

Wilson took another step forward, and House flashed back to less than an hour ago with Cuddy. To how similar they stood, inches from one another. He remembered how somber, how resigned the air had been. He remembered yesterday, the fake fight between himself and Wilson, how charged the air had felt then, and how similar to that it felt now. He could feel Wilson's breath against his throat, feel the warmth, feel how quickly he was taking those breaths. House's breathing sped up in response.

Wilson's smile twisted further, his eyes darker than House had ever seen them being before. "Then let me give you another hint," he murmured, and his hands clamped down around House's ears and yanked his face to Wilson's, noses nearly colliding.

House's eyes snapped shut the moment Wilson's lips crashed against his, feeling the release of a year's worth of unrequited affections in one single instant, all the way back in that stupid restaurant with that stupid blue drink and "Oh my God, you're sleeping with me." It was sudden and overwhelming, like an explosion of sensation rocketing from his gut outward, propelling his hands to drop his cane and latch onto Wilson's upper arms. He let out a surprised grunt, which was followed quickly by a low moan as Wilson showed House why he had so many girlfriends despite his 'cheating scoundrel' label.

Fireworks went off behind House's eyes and in his brain as Wilson demonstrated the perfect way to combine tongue, teeth, and lips in a kiss. During the few times that House had allowed himself to wonder what it would be like, what it could be like to do this with Wilson, he never thought it would be anything like this. He thought it would be more awkward, less sure, and House would be the one to take the lead.

A hand strolled down House's neck and rubbed gently at his shoulders as the angle of the kiss changed, and House simply followed along. He lifted his own hand and buried it into Wilson's hair, feeling the perfectly cared-for locks between his fingers. He heard Wilson practically purr in response, and the noise sent a shock of arousal racing through House's system, tickling his insides. It was then that House vowed that if Wilson ever stayed overnight at his apartment, he could use that damn blow-dryer whenever. Just as long as his hair was always just like this, always so soft, and always there for House to feel.

"Oh my God."

The noise startled House, causing his eyes to snap open and hands to drop to his sides. Wilson broke away slowly, his own eyes easing open, and looked over House's shoulder. He calmly smiled, his lips glistening and swollen, his hair in disarray, and his eyes dark and dilated.

"Doctors Taub and Kutner," he said simply. "Is there anything House or I can do for you?"

House smirked and turned his head to look over his shoulder, brushing against Wilson's as he did. Taub and Kutner stood in the doorway, mouths dropped open. They unfroze a second later, and Taub spun around, closing the door and flicking the shades shut. As he raced around the office to finish the job, Kutner broke into a large, gleeful smile.

"I knew it!" he chirped, pumping a fist into the air. Taub scowled at him, returning to his side and planting his hands on his hips.

"You thought House was screwing Cuddy," he stated. "Thirteen thought House and Wilson were together."

Kutner pouted, crossing his arms. He slouched as he grumbled, "That was a week ago. My opinion can change…"

House and Wilson broke apart, both fighting grins. House turned around and raised an eyebrow at the two of them. "Why were you discussing who I was sleeping with anyway?" he asked. He leered, waggling his eyebrows. "Jealous?"

Taub shrugged. "Bored," he corrected. "And don't assume we all went along. I don't care."

Wilson smirked. "What about Foreman?"

Kutner chuckled. "Your right hand," he chirped, grinning.

House scowled. "And after all the help I gave him," he bemoaned.

Wilson shrugged, planting his hands into his pockets, and grinned. "And what does the winner receive?" he asked.

Kutner shrugged. "Nothing, really," he said. "We were just bored, and decided to diagnose House's love life. The debates were pretty awesome."

House frowned at the two fellows. "It is both a disturbing and proud moment for me to hear this," he said. "Disturbing because you're putting so much thought into my sex life and my interactions… or lack thereof. And proud because you're willing to cross some very big personal boundaries to do so. It's a good day."

Wilson's pager let off a small noise, and he unattached it from his beltline to see it. He sighed and looked up at House, shrugging helplessly. "Patient," he said. After a moment of hesitation, Wilson reached around House's neck and kissed him briefly. Blushing as they parted, he limped backwards, picking up his crutches and shoving them under his arms. House blinked back blankly at him for a moment, reaching up to touch his lips. Wilson then swallowed, raising an eyebrow. "Still coming over tonight for the Monster Truck special?"

House roused himself from his stupor. "Still having free beer and Chinese?" he asked, an eyebrow arching.

Wilson smiled, nodding. "Like I'd forget that."

House then grinned cheerfully. "Then I'll see you there!"

Wilson beamed at him before he turned around and limped towards the exit. Kutner automatically, grabbed the door and opened it for him, smiling at Wilson as he left. As the door swung shut, House reached down to pick up his cane from the floor and resettled his grip. Taub and Kutner watched him, unsure. House smirked back at them.

"That," he began, smug, "is the finest piece of ass in the whole hospital." He cackled gleefully. "And it's all mine."

Kutner chuckled and Taub shook his head, smiling. As House went around his desk to take his seat, the two fellows made their way towards the conference room. House turned towards his computer.

"You know," House heard Kutner whisper to Taub, "maybe we should have House drop his pants. You know, just to be sure."

House broke into startled laughter. He looked over his shoulder to spy Kutner grinning at him around the door before it closed. He then turned back to his computer to search for some gay porn to send to Wilson through his email.

Maybe House should have been more startled about this new direction their friendship was going. But, House told himself, this was how Wilson and he had started their friendship in the first place. There was no halfway, no acquaintanceship, no 'hellos'—they simply jumped into their crazy, screwed-up friendship. Maybe it made more sense that they flung themselves into the next stage of their relationship without plotting or planning.

Either way, House was just going to enjoy finally getting what he wanted. Because there were no easy-to-follow, step-by-step processes for falling in love.

Because love that made people eagerly stupid, made people compromise their ideals, made people insane…

That love could make them ridiculously happy.