| |
My Wish
by BlueGemEyes
My Wish
A/N: I don't own the characters, or the song "My Wish" by Rascal Flatts...they are merely my playthings! So please read, and leave a comment if the mood strikes you! Thank you much!
Life has to go on. It always does.
This is the thought running through Dr. Gregory House's head the Monday morning after one of the hardest weekends of his life.
He'd always known it was going to end like this...something this perfect, but he'd somehow managed to screw it up.
He always did.
So he really wasn't surprised when Wilson avoided him the entire day, and Cameron and Cuddy shot him death glares all day. To them, making Wilson sad was equal to kicking a puppy. He'd never been the favorite of anyone at PPTH, but this was a new height of loathing on their faces. Or maybe it was a new depth...he wasn't quite sure which, and he didn't really care.
But then, as always happens, fate threw Wilson and House together on a case. A patient presented with swollen lymph nodes, and Wilson had to do a spleen biopsy to check for hairy-cell leukemia. The results took a day to come back, but that was just FINE with House. He didn't live for confrontation, he just created it.
The next day, Tuesday, was rainy, gray, and cold. `Perfect' thought House. `That's going to be my attitude once I have that oh-so-lovely blowout with Wilson. ' He heaved a sigh, squared his shoulders, and headed into his office. He had barely sat down, when Wilson came in and handed him the results of the spleen biopsy.
"The spleen wasn't enlarged, so that means no hairy-cell. It's got to be something else" Wilson said, never meeting House's eyes.
"I'll let the team know" House replied, his icy blues eyes boring into the side of Wilson's face. "Jimmy...we have to talk."
"About what?!" Wilson snapped. "About how you kissing Chase in the lab was a `mistake'? About how you never come home anymore? About how..." Wilson's voice broke and trailed off. "About how you never even touch me anymore?"
House looked down, unable to think of a reply. "Chase was a mistake" he said fiercely. "He came on to me, and while I admit I didn't do anything to stop him...I didn't encourage him further." He raised his head, meeting Wilson's gaze at last. "I told him I loved you."
Wilson looked up incredulously. Pain, anger, joy, and resignation were all fighting for prominence on his face. He shook his hand and ran his fingers through his hair. "It's too late for that now, House. You know it, and so do I. You say it...but there's never any meaning behind the words. What's different this time? Why should I believe you NOW?!"
House sat stoically, taking everything that Wilson threw at him. The very worst part was not that this was making him uncomfortable, but that Wilson was right, and he knew it. "You don't have to, Jimmy. You shouldn't. Just...know that it's true. That I do love you."
Wilson looked like he was either going to cry, or punch House in the face, or both. "Damn you, House" he whispered under his breath. "You're a real bastard, you know that?"
"So they tell me" House said, in all seriousness. "But I am being serious, James...I do love you. But the truly sad part in all this...is that to love you, I can't be with you. I'm damaged beyond anything your love-hell, anyone's love-could fix." He swallowed, hard, and looked up at Wilson, whose over bright brown eyes were silently spilling tears. "Trust-trust me...you're better off without me."
Wilson shook his head. "I told myself that I would never be without you...I could see us 15, 20 years down the road, sitting on the porch of our home, reminiscing about our past..." He shook his head again, and angrily wiped his tears away. "I was a fool." He spun on his heel to leave, and then stopped himself. He pulled an envelope out of his pocket and threw it on House's desk. "It's for you...I wrote it down after I heard it on the radio last night...before the anger set in." Then he strode over to the door, wrenched it open, and left the office.
House sat there for a few moments, looking at the envelope, debating whether or not to open it. Finally, his curiosity got the better of him, and he slit open the envelope, pulled out the single sheet of paper, and began to read. It was a passage from a song, one he'd only heard once before, when he and Wilson had made love to it.
He read the paper three times, and then put it down on his desk. He looked up at the ceiling and blinked rapidly; trying not to do the thing he dreaded most in the world. But he knew he couldn't stop the inevitable, and why should you when your heart hurt this much? And so, he broke a vow he'd made to himself when he was 15 years old.
Gregory House cried like he'd never be whole again.
A gust of wind from the slightly cracked window blew the paper, the cause of all his misery, to the floor. It landed word side up, and there, written in Wilson's loopy, almost feminine writing, were the words that had caused House's heart to break:
My wish for you
Is that this life becomes
All that you want it to
Your dreams stay big
Your worries stay small
You never need to carry more than you can hold
And while you're out there getting where you're getting to
I hope you know somebody loves you
And wants the same things too
Yeah this, is
My wish
I guess...it just wasn't meant to be, Greg. I will always love you.
Love,
James
Please post a comment on this story.
Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
|
|
|