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Through the Storm
by sydneylover150
Title: Through the Storm
Author: sydneylover150
Rating: PG-13 (due to language)
Pairing: House/Wilson strong friendship
Warnings: This is only my second House/Wilson fan fiction. However be as tough as you want on me. It's how I learn.
Disclaimer: I'm a college student. Do you think I'm making money on this?
Summary: Nature's wrath never takes account of human schedules.
A/N: A special thanks to Hobbit Lily for betaing for me, even though she doesn't have a clue about the TV. show. Also thanks to genagal, whose story "Believe" influenced the course of this story.
"Well, this definitely was not in the conference brochure." House drawled as he stared at the concrete walls of the hotel's tornado shelter. Correction, the hotel staircase's concrete walls were currently holding the hotel's entire population, plus some. Either way House was bored and stuck with tons of stupid idiots in a stairwell. Surprisingly (not) most of the current imbeciles vying to get out of the stairwell were doctors. Irritated with the situation; House began to twirl his cane with his left hand. Pointer, middle, ring, pinkie, ring, middle, pointer, thumb .
"Well, the hotel staff heard they were having the world renowned Gregory House staying in their hotel and they just could not resist scheduling a tornado warning." Wilson threw back at his friend with grimace as another child began to scream at the latest crash of thunder.
House just ignored Wilson's comment, stopped twirling his cane, and looked at Wilson expectantly with those blue eyes. "We should demand a refund."
Wilson rolled his eyes, "Oh, yes, House, I'll just go check and see if they have the money ready yet. I'm sure they have just spent the entire time we have been in here preparing your refund. Wait, that's right, they are busy trying to calm the other guests and making sure they are all safe in the stairwell."
"Well they aren't doing a very good job," House replied cattily. He turned to observe as another example of the human race's stupidity tried to buy his way out of the bunker. At least this one, House conceded, had a valid excuse judging by the way he was sweating profusely and nervously glancing around the staircase. Claustrophobia , House diagnosed in his mind. Noticing that the man flinched away from a group of people also trying to buy their way out of the situation, with the possibility of agoraphobia as well, House concluded.
Wilson didn't say anything. He just looked up towards the staircase's roof and rubbed the back of his neck with his left hand. Suddenly the thunder seemed to roar below them and the concrete walls shake as a loud crash of thunder attempted to use its voice to blow down the hotel. Wilson gave a startled yip and jumped. It took all of Wilson's will power to stop his jerking hand from grabbing his best friend's hand. James' mind was racing; no screaming, as the storm seemed to settle itself directly on top of their hotel.
"You know they really should be more considerate to our needs." House continued loftily as if nothing had happened. "I mean, we are big shot doctors. Housing us in this concrete bunker is not what we paid for when we signed up for this conference."
House monitored his friend's response to his glib comments carefully. Contrary to popular belief, he did notice when Wilson was out of sorts, both emotionally or physically. He just did not see the point of asking or talking about it. As E. W. Howe said, "When a friend is in trouble, don't annoy him by asking if there is anything you can do. Think up something appropriate and do it." Or as House said, think up something inappropriate to say or do. Either way, House noticed James' hand jerking towards his own. Greg was well aware that James did not fancy large storms.
"I think they have more on their minds right now, like say, the tornados that have touched down in this area." Wilson snapped as another wave of thunder perforated the concrete walls and echoed up and down the tall stairwell. Somewhere further up the stairs, some young children, who finally caught on that this was neither a drill nor was it fun; began to whimper as their worried and frightened mothers who dragged them to this conference tried to shush their worries and fears.
House nodded, taking note in his intense observation of the people around him, a young dark auburn-haired girl who began to bite her lip as another child began to scream. She caught House looking at her and flashed him an exasperated smile and rolled her eyes as another mother told her child all would be fine. House felt his lips tug upwards slightly but he managed to fight it off.
"Maybe we should demand to speak to the man." House said as he turned his attention back on Wilson. "Is there an incantation you have to do or do you just dial 1-800-YAHWEH?"
Wilson laughed softly. "I wish I had a tape recorder every time you come close to believing in God."
"What isn't that how you Jews do it? That's what the ladies with the habits taught me when I was in high school. Jews ask for something and they get it." House turned away trying to hide a small smile from Wilson. "Plus no one would believe you even if you had a video of me going to church on Saturday night."
"No, that is not how it works. Has anyone told you that you have a very simplistic understanding of how religion works?" Wilson asked as a grin tugged on his lips. He sometimes just could not help smiling at the things House said or did; they were just so innocently childish coming from a sarcastic jaded man of forty-seven. Then again in Greg's heart, he was only eight. "And I happen to know that you do not go to church any day."
"How do you know? I could go on Friday when you are at Temple." House asked, his eyebrow raised challenging Wilson to question his logic. His attention began to drift to the screaming child only half a flight above them, whose breath was coming in short gasps. The little boy's mother, who had been at the nephrology and new medical research in areas of rare viruses, was attempting to give her child his inhaler. A sharp sarcastic laugh brought his attention back to the brown-eyed Wilson.
Wilson raised one finger. "A, I know because you do not believe in God, the afterlife or anything outside of science." The next finger raised and House could not help thinking that he was being punished. "B, I know because we have dinner on Friday nights and I skip temple to eat that dirty heathen animal with you."
House laughed, "Like you don't enjoy it. We all know that you aren't the good little Jew your grandmother believes you are Jimmy."
Wilson opened his mouth to reply but House just barreled on as if he didn't see that James was going to reply. Of course, Greg had known and seen that James was going to reply, he just did not care.
"And just to inform you now, I do go when I am having difficulty sleeping to the old monastery. The chanting, music and acoustics are amazing." House said quietly, turning away from the slack jawed Wilson. He turned his eyes once more to the unwashed masses around him.
Wilson must have recovered because he moved around to meet House's eyes. "So if I believe what you have said, hell must have frozen over since you actually entered a church and the world did not come to an end."
"Nice, but no." House threw out an exasperated look at his friend. He just waited dazed as all the people around him settled into a state of numb calmness. "Amazingly, James I can actually go many places without the world ending, though I must admit the shock value that entering these places have on others is equal to the world ending." He paused for a second, before a maniacal and diabolic grin took hold of his face. "For them."
Wilson just smiled a little. House was House. He did so many things that were unexpected that any person who tried to categorize Gregory House would go insane trying. James opened his mouth once more, but the hotel's stairwell gave a screeching moan as the hotel's manager opened it and entered.
"Ladies and Gentleman, I am sorry for the inconvenience this has caused all of you. Fortunately the tornado warning has gone out of effect and you will be able to return to your rooms and all those staying here for the conference will be able to return to your meetings."
"You ruined our moment to tell me that I can return back to a meeting that I was forced at gun point to attend?" House called out to the hotel manager.
"House." Wilson warned under his breath, frowning although his eyes were sparkling. For once today, he did not care if his friend was at the receiving end of a death glare by the manager. (Yes, House had officially had pissed off the manager only twelve minutes after they arrived at the hotel. It was a personal best for House.)
"What? It's true if you consider Cuddy's breasts as being equivalent to guns." House whined causing Wilson to roll his eyes to the ceiling just before dragging House out of the stairwell, much to the delight of many of their former bunk mates.
"Are they clapping because we are leaving?" House asked Wilson, trying to slow his friend down so he could gauge what was happening in the "room" they had just left.
"No, they aren't clapping because we left." Wilson said with a grin. "They are clapping because you left."
House just turned to Wilson and grinned, "Nice. Do you think that was a personal best?"
Wilson shrugged his shoulders, trying to hide a grin under a stern demeanor. He was failing miserably. "I think you need to consider a new hobby."
House cocked his head a little, looking thoughtful. He then grinned. "Hey do you want to skip the last meeting and find a monastery?"
Wilson just rolled his eyes, shaking his head with a disapproving look. "House we are here to learn more in our fields. I still have to learn about the new HPV vaccine...."
"That session isn't until tomorrow and it would be fun. We can see all the damage first hand." House said as he put on the hung dog face. "Come on Wilson, it'll be fun."
Wilson could not help wondering why he even bothered to come to conferences with House; he never made it to the sessions. Than again, House made life interesting. Taking a deep breath and allowed his chocolate eyes meet those big startling blue eyes. "Sure, why not?"
House smiled and held out his arm as if he was escorting Wilson to a fancy ball. Wilson laughed and smiled at his friend's antics as he took House's arm and the man escorted him out into the storm.
The End
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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 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.
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