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Heroes and Sidekicks
by Belladonna
Unrequited love sucked, House thought solemnly as he watched Wilson walking down the hallway. Said object of his obsession looked up and their eyes met, and he had to smile. Even if he couldn't have Wilson in a more personal way, he was content with what he had.
*
Jack watched over Daniel as he snoozed on the airplane, looking so damn cute that the stewardesses were forced to make up stupid reasons just to come check on them. But Jack understood, he too wanted to be closer to Daniel. But he was happy to have what he had, Daniel's friendship. A sharp pain in his leg made him suck in a breath and wince. He hated flying commercial.
*
"I don't know what it is, I think he's having a stroke or a heart attack," a desperate male voice said.
House heard a resident haughtily reply, "Now sir, it just looks like he pulled a muscle and maybe a little indigestion to me. Let's leave doctoring to the doctors."
Intrigued, House limped over and whipped the curtain back. "So what do we have here?" he asked brightly, while his eyes took in the gray haired man in partial uniform lying on the gurney, and his sidekick who was pale with anger and fear.
The resident winced. "Ah, Dr. House, the ambulance just brought him in."
"Okay, what's he presenting?"
The resident took a deep breath. "BP's normal, he's having pain in his side and his leg and his stomach is upset, but it's not a stroke."
House nodded, eyeing the men sharply. "Have you been on a plane recently?"
Daniel nodded. "Last night, we flew in from Colorado Springs."
Jack rolled slightly and began to cough, and Daniel gasped when he saw blood spray out.
Foreman and Chase had come up behind their boss and were watching when they both saw the blood spray. "We need a cbc and a blood gas kit and let's get him up for a CT," Foreman said quickly to a passing nurse and she nodded.
House looked over his shoulder. "Ah, and what do think this is?" he asked them even as he took out his handkerchief and gave it to Jack to wipe his mouth. "Keep it," he said and the man on the gurney smirked slightly before the pain made him wince.
Chase went to the other side of the gurney and began to take vials of blood. He and Foreman said, "Pulmonary embolism" in unison.
"Exactly right, children," he looked at Daniel. "I can see where you thought it might be a stroke, but as long as there are no complications, this is easily fixable."
Daniel nodded, and then went green. "Sorry, Jack. I'm gonna be..."
Chase looked up in alarm, "Just across the hall, mate," they watched as Daniel sprinted to the bathroom.
"Stress," House said succinctly.
"Daniel can handle stress," Jack said quietly, his brown eyes staring worriedly after his friend. He didn't resist as a nurse put an oxygen mask over his face.
Chase finished what he was doing, while House explained each step, both to Jack and to the resident, then they got him ready to take him for his CT. Chase raised his eyebrows and caught Foreman's eye when House indicated he'd ride up with the patient. Normally when the mystery was solved House disappeared from the scene.
Daniel stepped back in as they were about to leave, and Jack held out his hand to his friend.
"What is it, Jack?" Daniel asked quietly, taking Jack's cold hand in his..
"Daniel, I love you," Jack gasped and his eyes rolled back in his head as he lapsed into unconsciousness.
The heart monitor started to go wild and House cursed. "Let's get him upstairs!"
Daniel's eyes widened and it was as if a veil had been torn from his eyes and his heart. "Ohgod. Jack!" Everything he wanted in the palm of his hands, and it was about to be snatched away.
The gurney was rolled away and Daniel began to collapse, only to be caught by two men and gently moved to a waiting chair. The black man gently put his hand on his head, pushing until it was between his knees.
Foreman and Chase exchanged looks as the man sat back up. "I'm going to throw up."
They followed Daniel as he dashed back into the bathroom, the lingering scent of sickness still in the air. As the sounds of retching echoed off of the tile, Chase disappeared out of the bathroom for a moment, returning with a cup. The two doctors waited patiently until Daniel came back out, and they watched as he rinsed and spit, then wiped his face with a wet paper towel.
Daniel met their eyes in the mirror. "I need to call our doctor, and I need somewhere to wait."
Chase nodded. "We'll take care of it."
*
House followed the gurney into the elevator, keeping a sharp eye on his patient, and couldn't help but compare himself to the gray haired and gray faced man on the gurney. Someone who'd almost left it too late. Maybe it was an object lesson for him as well.
*
The day had started out so well. Daniel and Jack had traveled to Princeton to meet with a linguist that Daniel thought could be of great use to the Stargate program. The trip had taken longer because they'd flown commercial, and Jack had complained of aching more than usual, but then Jack was a bit of a whiner so Daniel paid his friend no mind.
Dr. Eric Hang was a prodigy, his father was a scientist born in Mongolia and his mother a French musician. He received his first degree at the age of 13, going on to garner four more, and in the process learned almost 15 languages. He was now twenty four, though Jack though he still looked all of thirteen.
Daniel had enthusiastically interviewed Hang, the two men immediately liking each other while Jack had stayed in the background, making his own assessments.
Then Jack had a made a sound, a noise that made the hair on Daniel's neck stand on end, and he'd turned around to see his friend go deathly pale, clutch at his chest and almost keel over.
"Shit! Jack!" Daniel sprang up to catch his friend and gently lower him to the floor. "Describe it to me, Jack?"
"My chest hurts and I can't catch my breath," Jack grunted, and Daniel's heart had sunk. Heart attack or a stroke.
"Eric, do you have any aspirin? And where's the nearest military hospital?"
The younger man scrambled had for his gym bag, and tossed Daniel the aspirin. "McGuire Air Force Base, Ft. Dix and the Naval Air Station share a hospital but they're a half hour away. Our teaching hospital is a mile, and we have an ambulance already hanging about," Hang had said, reaching for the phone.
Daniel had nodded as he had Jack chew the aspirin, smiling automatically at the face his friend made at the bitterness. "Call' em," he'd ordered.
**
House could hear piano playing. Excellent piano playing, and he followed the sound until he reached the main lounge on the surgical level. There he found Dr. Jackson, playing the piano as if his heart would break. He limped in and over to the piano bench, seating himself beside the younger man, letting his cane rest against the bench. He began to weave a harmony around the other man's, using the lower keys.
They played that way for awhile, neither man noticing the ever changing audience, until Daniel just stopped. House finished the harmonic line he'd started, then let his fingers rest in his lap.
House turned slightly, "Hi, I'm Dr. Greg House, brilliant diagnostician. They've taken your Colonel in for surgery to remove the embolus from the pulmonary artery. Once they're finished they'll place him on anti-coagulants to prevent a reoccurrence. He probably got his clot from being seated too long in one position on the airplane, it happens more than you know."
"I'm Dr. Daniel Jackson, brilliant but apparently clueless archeologist, anthropologist and linguist," Daniel said bitterly.
"There's something you need to know about super heroes," House said out of the blue.
Daniel eyed the man beside him with consternation. "Huh?"
House smiled wryly. "You see, super heroes are generally loners, and they are also cowards. They don't tell their handsome side kicks how they feel, because their side kicks are generally younger and stronger and the heroes don't want their asses kicked," he sensed Daniel's smile. "The side kick is the most important person in the world to the hero, so the hero doesn't do anything to fix what's not broken. And basically, like I said, we're cowards."
Wilson stayed out of sight of the doorway, but House's words resounded like a bell within him.
"How could I not know?" Daniel asked softly. "I study people, damn it! How many times I have hurt him out of ignorance? What if he dies before I make it right?" his voice broke.
"Don't be such a drama queen," House said bracingly. "He's not going to die, Dr. Jackson. We'll stabilize him and we've already heard from the military and they have competent doctors to take over his treatment. Not as good as I am, but then no one is."
Daniel snorted. "Ego much, doctor?"
"You have no idea," came a tenor voice and both men turned on the piano bench to see a man stride into the room.
"Dr. Jackson, anthropology and linguistics, not medical, this is Dr. Wilson. How did it go, James?" House asked his friend, and privately termed side kick.
Wilson smiled. "The aspirin that Dr. Jackson gave him kept the damage to a minimum. They removed the embolus and administered the best clot busting drugs, and since we were well within the golden hours I have faith that he'll make a full recovery."
"Thank god," Daniel slumped, tears of relief burning his eyes.
"I told you," House huffed.
"Oh, and you're never wrong," Wilson sniped companionably, sharing a smile with his friend.
House sat up straighter, wincing as his leg protested, but shook his head at his friend who'd stepped forward in concern. "I'm never wrong, though I occasionally may be misguided," he answered.
"Misguided, misanthropic and myopic, but I'll grant that he's rarely wrong," Wilson said to Daniel, who rolled his eyes in commiseration.
Wilson's brown eyes caught and held House's, and House knew that his friend had overheard their conversation. He wondered what was going to happen next.
**
Teal'c and Carter had already been into the infirmary to pay their respects and were off to the cafeteria for some chow, and Jack was at Janet's tender mercies.
He wriggled his fingers and Janet nodded. "Everything looks good, Colonel. Strokes are serious things." They'd been very lucky. Jack had just been transported back to the SGC when Thor had popped in, heard about Jack and taken Jack up to his ship to fix him properly.
"Yeah, it was lucky that Thor was in the neighborhood," Jack said, and then he sighed. "I won't lie to ya, doc. I was pretty scared, but Daniel stayed calm, and Hang has a good head on his shoulders." They'd hired the linguist. Anyone who could keep their head like he did in an emergency was worthwhile to the program.
"And he's a cutie," Janet said mischievously.
"Gah, please. Don't make me barf," Jack protested.
"What, you ate in the cafeteria already?" Daniel asked from the doorway.
Jack grinned. "Hey, Danny!"
Daniel smiled back, glad to see his best friend well and happy. Jack's memory of the time after the stroke had a big honking hole in it though, including the declaration of love, which left Daniel in a bit of a dilemma. Did he acknowledge it, or let sleeping dogs lie.
"Hey, Jack. You look great."
Jack preened as he slid off of the gurney. "Thanks to you and my little gray buddy, Thor. Wanna come over tonight?"
"I'll bring the beer," Daniel agreed as they left the infirmary. He had to make a decision, something that they both could live with.
*
House sat sprawled in his easy chair, the buzz of alcohol singing in his veins. It was the first downtime they'd had together in over a week, between House's cases and Wilson's cancer patients. He'd not taken a vicodin out of respect for his company, but he wasn't feeling any pain at the moment.
"So, you think I'm handsome," Wilson said casually, and House spit his beer over his lap, to the sound of his friend's laughter.
"Damn it, James!" House complained as he grabbed the paper towel his friend handed him so he could mop up. "Now I need to change," he said, totally ignoring the conversational gambit. He was a firm believer in the adage of `if you ignore it, it will go away'.
Wilson smiled down at him. "I'll help you, that way you'll already be undressed."
The husky, almost sensual tone in Wilson's voice made House's cock leap for joy. "Uh," he said.
"Ooh, very erudite of you," Wilson teased as he began to strip.
"Oh god," House whimpered, and that was the last coherent thought he had.
**
Jack was checking the sauce when the door opened.
"Jack?"
"In the kitchen," Jack called back.
Daniel came in with two six packs from some micro brewery. "What's for dinner?" he asked, lifting a lid to peek.
"Just pasta marinara. I've got French bread and salads to go along with it," Jack said, then all of the spit dried in his mouth as Daniel bent over to place the beer in his `fridge. "Damn."
"What?" Daniel asked as he pulled out a couple of beers for themselves, handing Jack his beer before taking a drink of his own.
Jack sucked in a breath as a stray memory tickled him. "Daniel, there's something I have to tell you, if, I, um, didn't already?"
"If it's got something to do with how you feel about me, then yeah, maybe I have heard it," Daniel said carefully.
Ah. Daniel wasn't interested. Jack winced. "Sorry, I didn't mean..."
Daniel suddenly saw that they were both reading each other wrong, and he placed his beer onto the counter, then took Jack's and placed it beside his. He moved up to Jack and cupped his beloved face in his hands. "I love you too, Jack. And you scared me to death when you told me, because I thought we'd never be able to do this..."
And the kiss was everything he'd hoped.
*
Greg ran a fingertip down James' spine, shamelessly enjoying the full body shiver it produced. "You're not just my sidekick, you know," he said abruptly, willing his best friend, and now lover to understand what he couldn't say.
James turned his head and sleepily smiled. "I love you too, Greg. Now get some sleep, you've got clinic hours tomorrow."
With a grunt, House nuzzled his nose into Wilson's hair and fell asleep. His heart was safe.
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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 Fox Television, 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.
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