Hello again. I decided to write some more on this. At least two chapters after this.
If you feel that Wilson is a little ooc in this one, remember that he is tired, bitter and emotionally exhausted.
House MD is not mine by the way, but Buzz Aldrin, secound man on the moon, told me to shut up and sit down, and I chose too see that as a sign that the man in the moon told him that House MD was soon going to be mine.
Chapter 9
How to fall alone
A day had passed, and House had said nothing since he awoke. Wilson had continued to sit at his side, making small talk and starring. He could not believe that House was awake, even if he was not talking. A couple of times he had fallen asleep, and Wilson felt panic rising in his chest every time, but mostly he was reassured by House's gentle snoring. But three times House lay so still, that Wilson had too shake him awake, just to be sure.
A day had passed, and House had been lying there, thinking about the dreams. The memories that had come too the surface of his mind, and blanked out everything else. He could not look at Wilson, who he knew had been there all this time, right by his side, watching him, seeing him weak and vulnerable. That hurt almost as much as the dreams and hurt and sorrow. Knowing that he no longer was Wilson's rock, the only steadfast harbour in a sea of lovers and wives.
He turned slowly to his best friend, who seemed surprised by the sudden movement. He stared him directly into his eyes for some time, till Wilson seemed uneased and turned away.
"Jimmy", House whispered, with his still course and uneven voice.
"Yes, Greg, what is it? Something wrong? Are you hurting?"
Wilson's voice was so full of concern it made House cringe and started to hate his friend, for no longer being his friend, but an guardian angel or a mother House certainly did not need. If Wilson no longer was a buddy, his drinking and pizza pal, the dude to watch football with, if he was something more. If he now was House's rock, he could not trust him anymore. Cos if he loved and trusted Wilson, let him into his carefully guarded mind, Wilson would betray him, leave him, hurt him, just like everyone else he ever loved.
"Jimmy. Go away. What are you doing here in the first place? I don't want you here.
And you stink, your very presence is pestering me, get away, and if you come back I will call security."
Wilson looked stricken by this, and fell together like the spineless slime House found him to be.
"If you so wish, House. I will go then, and leave you to your misery. Maybe your dad was right after all, you do not deserve my love and friendship!"
His voice reeked of contempt and House almost lost his courage.
"You are right, Jimmy, my father is right. So leave now, and be relieved of my presence!"
Jimmy left, not looking back, and if he had, he would have seen House's eyes, wide-open and struck with terror and fear. Had he looked back, he would have returned with speed, holding his best friend in his arms and never left again. But even if had looked back, he would not have seen the terror House saw.
He was falling. Wind drumming about him, ripping him to pieces. There was no one there, just him, falling alone, naked in the darkness. He started crying then, he could live with the dark, cold world, the unfairness of it all, the pain, but not alone, not alone.
He had always known what life would be; a rapid run through darkness, never being able see the paths in front of you, just the crossroads where you had to choose. No way to see which road was right. And more often then not, he had chosen wrong, since his lot in life was to suffer, to be in pain. He had chosen Stacy away, chosen not to go with his sister on that faithful day, he had chosen the pain in his leg. And now he chosen away Wilson, even though this time, he could see the road I front of him, the lonesome path he would limp along for the rest of his existence.
He was falling. Wind drumming about him, faster and faster he fell. But no longer alone, a hand had gripped his, and now they were falling together, naked in the darkness. He started crying then, he could live with the dark cold world, the unfairness of it all, the pain, now that he was no longer alone.
He had understood what life could be, the day he met James Evan Wilson. He was running in darkness, rapid rounds on a field at night. He always loved running in darkness, the feeling you got not being able to see clearly, not knowing when you could trip, the risks of it all. Long strong leaps he took, feeling with every harboured breath, the joy that was life. And suddenly he did trip, on a broken branch. He braced himself for the painful meeting with the ground, but it never came. A strong hand gripped his, dragged him up, holding him till he again was stable. And since that moment, when he met Jimmy, they would always run together, on the fields at night, always feeling like they could to this for the rest of their existence.
He was falling, wind drumming about him, ripping him to pieces. He felt his skin falling of, his eyes bleeding from the steadingly increasing speed. But he did not care about the pain, until he felt the most important piece of his existence breaking of, the hand in his glipped, and fell away. And again, he was falling alone, naked in the darkness. He started crying then, he had felt how it was not to be alone in the dark, cold world, the unfairness of it, the pain, and now he was alone again, and this time he would be forever alone.
Liked it? Hated it? Made you want to be hungover, because the pain of to much appletinis is actually better than this chapter? Please review, and make a young sick cripple happy!