"Resignation" alternate scene       

"Resignation" alternate scene 

 

This is my first House fic - critiques are requested so my next one will
be better! 

 

This is an alternate take on a scene in the episode "Resignation."For
anyone who didn't see it, here's the relevant info (no plot spoilers):
Wilson has been yawning and House can't figure out why.He crushes three
amphetamine tablets and mixes them into a coffee for Wilson.Two absolutely
hilarious scenes follow (see them on youtube!) before he figures out what
House has done and shows up at his apartment to bitch about it.This is my
own idea for how the whole scenario might have worked out.It's written to
take the place of the actual scene in the episode, so it doesn't take away
anything, or anything, it just adds some more stuff - mostly angst.Just
for shits and giggles. 

 

Between Friends 

 

Playing Wilson like that had been more enjoyable than it had been in the
past.He wasn't sure why - he knew that the reason he enjoyed manipulating
people was partly because of the sense of power it gave him, and partly
because at heart he was still a mischievous boy looking to push the limits
and cause trouble.Wilson, underneath all his charming sensitivity and his
calm maturity, was the same the kid as House - his manipulations were more
subtle, and more predictable, and he rationalized them with well-meaning
intentions, but deep down, in a lot of ways, he was just like House.That's
why they got along so well - why they tolerated each other's pranks and
manipulations.Each precariously straddled that line House so gleefully and
frequently crossed, but they kept each other in balance, and they
understood each other. 

Of course, Wilson also got off on overcoming, either emotional challenges,
which was why he actually liked being an oncologist, or bullshit, which
was another reason he tolerated House. 

Waiting in front of the television for the phone to ring, House still felt
the residual impish adrenaline from his coffee prank.Usually by now he was
back to even.Maybe it was the imagined image of Wilson bouncing off his
office walls on an amphetamine high, which was unqualifiedly hilarious.Or
the rage House was sure to incur once Wilson realized what had happened
and called him - or, better showed up at his door. 

But five o'clock came and went and Wilson didn't call.Six o'clock came and
went, and Wilson didn't show.The prank had been fairly transparent - he
ought to have figured it out by now.Unless the amphetamines were affecting
his reasoning.`Wilson can't handle his drugs,' House thought with a smirk,
and reached for a bottle of Vicadin. 

Finally, at ten after seven, the phone rang.House wiped the satisfied grin
from his face and lifted the receiver."Hello?" 

It was Cuddy.Typically, she sounded strained."You have to come back to the
hospital." 

"Oh!" he groaned melodramatically."I missed it, didn't I?" 

"...Missed what?" Cuddy asked. 

The epic heart attack!Okay, it kicked in a few hours later and it probably
wasn't quite as epic--" 

She cut him off."No!House - no.Your patient, as far as I know, is
fine.It's Wilson."  

It was more than strain in her voice... it was worry.The smug smile froze
on House's face."What about Wilson?" 

"Wilson is having a heart attack." 

His stomach sank, the Vicadin high dissipated."What?" was all he could
think to  

"He's been asking for you," Cuddy told him. 

It took an effort to suppress his panic and get moving."I'll be right
there." 

 

~~~~~ 

 

He slammed Cuddy's doors open with such force that they almost bounced
back onto him.Cripple or not, he could move when he wanted.Cuddy startled
badly, literally jumping out of her seat."Where is he?" House demanded. 

His mind was divided in a civil war.One half, cool and logical, assured
him that his trick with the coffee could not possibly have caused Wilson
to have a heart attack, if only because he had evaluated that risk and
spiked the drink anyway.He would never have done anything to put Wilson in
serious danger.Wilson in cardiac arrest - the man was in perfect health;
the notion was absurd, entirely implausible.The other half of his mind,
though, had latched onto the most obvious facts of the situation: Wilson
was having a heart attack; amphetamines can cause heart attacks; House had
done this to him.Normally these two constituent parts of his mind worked
in unison to solve the medical mysteries that came across his desk.Now
they played havoc with heart rate. 

His boss gestured to the couch and told him, "Sit down." 

Of course that wasn't going to work.House's eyes were wild and he demanded
again, "Where is he?" 

Cuddy was glaring at him, but there was something else behind her eyes -
pity?So when she told him again to sit, he didn't obey but he did stop
railing."I have to talk to you first," she said. 

"No, first you have to tell me where Wilson is." 

Cuddy sighed and resumed the glare."I really wish you would sit down." 

House eyed her suspiciously.You only insist someone sits when you're
giving them bad news."Why?" he asked. 

"So I can sit down, and face you." 

He still eyed her strangely, so she came around her desk and sat in the
chair facing the couch to prove her point.House grudgingly dropped down
across from her and raised his eyebrows expectantly.Is Wilson?" 

Cuddy leaned forward and looked House straight in the eye, intent and
serious."Wilson came in here an hour ago, waving his arms around and
ranting incoherently about something... he was talking so fast I couldn't
understand him.It was obvious he was angry about something--" 

House fidgeted in his seat, growing impatient.Somewhere in this hospital
his friend was being treated for an MI and Cuddy was giving him the
run-around. 

"--and I gathered he was angry at you.Before I could get anything coherent
out of him, he had a heart attack and collapsed.We rushed him to the ER
for treatment." 

"Is that where he is now?"House moved impatiently to get to his feet. 

"No.And we're not done yet.He also said something about amphetamines," she
said, the edge in her voice growing sharp."Do you have any idea what he
was talking about?" 

The gnawing doubt about the harmlessness of his prank had followed him all
the way back to the hospital.But no, he reminded himself, there's no way
he could have caused this.Hypertension, maybe, but not a heart attack, not
in Wilson.He would never have done that."Where's Wilson?" he repeated. 

"This is serious, House.You drugged Wilson with amphetamines without his
knowledge." 

"I didn't.Nice guess though.You want to tell me where he is now?Or should
I walk upstairs and ask the receptionist what room he's in?" 

Cuddy opened her mouth to talk, shut it, tried again. 

"He's dead," she told him. 

House stared.For a full three seconds everything stopped.Wilson had a
heart attack.It was a prank, just a prank. 

A desperate attack of logic took over, and House felt sudden calm
reassurance flood through him.He cocked a smile and shook his head at
Cuddy."No he's not." 

She gazed at him earnestly."I'm sorry, House." 

House went on smiling, and this time it was his turn to lean forward and
look her in the eye."You didn't ask me if I doped Wilson, you told me,
because he told you." 

"Yes," Cuddy responded, "while he was going into cardiac arrest on my
floor!So you did dope him." 

"I didn't say that, I said you said that," he clarified."You don't look
too upset for someone who just watched someone die on their floor." 

"He died in the ER, and you think I'm not upset?" she shouted at him
indignantly."You killed your best friend, House - only friend, and a
friend of mine too!How dare you?You think I'm not upset?Right now I'm
shocked and I'm angry that you could have done such a thing.I'll mourn for
Wilson later, after I've dealt with you!" 

House was unflappable."If Wilson was dead, you wouldn't bring me in here
and launch an inquisition first." 

"Unless I thought you caused his death!" she defended."Did you?" 

"Wilson's not dead, so I guess not," House said confidently, stood and
hobbled to the center of the room."Wilson!" he called."You can come out
now!" 

"House..." 

"Wilson!"House wandered out into the clinic and began searching the
examination rooms."Come on, Wilson.You're not fooling anyone.Cuddy's not
that good a liar."But Wilson wasn't anywhere in the clinic.He walked back
to Cuddy's office."Go ahead and tell him to come out." 

Cuddy shook her head, looking at him sadly."I'm so sorry, House." 

Doubt and fear crept back into his mind."No.Come on..."
 Her ranting was over.She was in sympathy mode now."I know you were
close." 

Cuddy was a manipulator just like House and Wilson, but she had ideals and
ethics.She wouldn't stoop this low.Would she?"I want to see him," he
tested. 

"I can't let you do that." 

 

"Because you're complicit in his death," she said, growing angry again."As
soon as they took him up to the ER, I went to his office and tested the
coffee.It was positive for amphetamines.The clinic pharmacy record shows
you signed out three ten milligram pills this afternoon." 

"Oh, God..."The horrible reality of the evening was setting in.House
leaned heavily on his cane, staring distantly at the floor.`What have I
done?Did I kill Wilson?'"I want to see his body." 

"Why?" 

But this time his disbelief was feigned. 

"I can't let you.The police told me I wasn't--" 

 

"Yes!" she sounded exasperated."You caused a man's death!Your friend!The
police are already on their way here.I don't if I'll be able to help you
this time--He abruptly turned and went for the door."Where are you going?"


You can send the cops up there when you're done with them." 

 

In the elevator, House was keenly aware of the passage of time.Each second
passed precisely as the last had, each left him equally numb.`Wilson's not
dead,' he told himself, over and over in his head.But of course, if he
knew that were true, he wouldn't need to keep repeating it.He was in
denial, the first stage of grieving, which meant that deep down he knew
Cuddy wasn't lying.Wilson was dead, and he had killed him. 

House couldn't let it go.He'd suspected it might have been a side-effect
of antidepressant medication, but he'd drugged Wilson's coffee anyway -
knowing that MAO inhibitors can cause hypertension as well, and that the
complications of combining them with amphetamines could...How could he
possibly have miscalculated 

The elevator doors opened and he trudged down the empty halls toward his
office.He was going to be arrested for killing his best friend - and Cuddy
was right - his only friend.And he'd rot away in jail knowing that Wilson
wasn't alive anymore because House couldn't control his own childish
impulses.Loneliness he could handle, but guiltHe'd never had to face guilt
before.And Wilson... what would he do without... 

Turning the corner, he passed Cameron on her way to the labs."What are you
doing back?" she asked him. 

Normally he would have snapped a witty remark.He didn't feel like playing
any more games tonight."Wilson's dead." 

He didn't get the reaction he expected - unbridled shock and
sympathy.Instead she looked confused."What?" 

"Wilson.Dead," he told her again."I dosed his coffee with amphetamines
this afternoon, and he had a heart attack in Cuddy's office and he died." 

She only looked more confused.He walked on, didn't want to deal with her
compassion right now.He just wanted to get to the quiet, dark solitude of
his office and sit alone and try to comprehend everything, let reality
sink in a little more, then throw back a bottle of Vicadin and go numb for
a while.Cameron's voice said to his back, "But I just saw him go into your
office." 

House paused, sure he'd heard her wrong, or that she was mistaken.And
then, no, everything began to make sense again....He turned to her."What
did you say?" 

"Wilson," Cameron told him."I just passed him a minute ago.He was going in
your office." 

He spun and dashed the last few yards, flung open his office door. 

Wilson stood up from behind House's desk.He looked disheveled and angry -
as angry as Wilson ever managed to look. 

House nearly went crazy.He dropped his cane and advanced on his friend,
nearly screaming, "You son of a bitch!" 

 Wilson retorted, just before House's fist connected with his face.He fell
backward, holding his chin and wincing in pain. 

"Were you listening in on Cuddy's speakerphone?" House accused."Is that
how you knew to beat it to my office and surprise me?Maybe you could have
given me a heart attack - I'm the one with the drug problem, remember?My
ticker's probably not in such great shape, like yours evidently is." 

Staring up at House standing unsteadily over him, Wilson protested, "You
tried to kill me!" 

"You let me believe you were dead!" House shouted back. 

"You put amphetamines in my coffee!" 

"You made me think I killed you!" 

So you admit it!" Wilson cried in a triumphant rage, jumping to his
feet.House looked disgusted and turned around to retrieve his cane from
the floor."You put drugs in my coffee!" 

Cameron was standing on the other side of the door, staring in at them
with bewilderment."Don't you have anybody's hand to hold?" House shouted
at her.She straightened disdainfully and left."Yes, I drugged your
coffee.But only because you didn't want to tell me that you're on
antidepressants."And besides that's nothing compared to what you did!You
even dragged Cuddy in on your lie!I wonder how you roped her into that
one.Did you tell her I'm a big bad and I needed to be taught a lesson?" 

"No.I told her you're an ass that needed to be brought down a few pegs.She
agreed." 

"Those amphetamines never would have killed you." 

"You don't know my medical history!" he protested and stuttered, "I- I- I-
I c- I could... Heart disease runs in my family, you know - they could
have caused an MI." 

"You don't have heart disease.You're in perfect health," House
retorted."Except for the being depressed part - your yawning gave you
away: it's a symptom of some antidepressants, apparently the ones you're
on."Wilson sighed, and, indeed, yawned."And when did you plan on telling
me about that?I'm only your best friend - your best friend who you tried
to fake your death for.You don't think a little something like diagnosed
depression should have come up in conversation?" 

"Oh please," cried Wilson derisively, "you don't care!You're just mad I
didn't tell you." 

"What do you know?" House grumbled petulantly."You're on drugs." 

"Yeah, I'm on speed," Wilson shouted in his face and waved his fingers in
a gesture meant to dramatically emphasize his condition, but which just
came off silly."And whose fault is that?" 

"I don't know.Maybe if you'd been honest with me, instead of lying about
being on happy pills--" 

"I didn't lie!" 

"A lie of omission is still a lie.You should have trusted me." 

"It was personal, House." 

"So personal you couldn't tell your best friend.How's that for
appreciation?" 

 Wilson balked.Sometimes House angered him almost beyond words."What
should I appreciate you for?The time you dosed me with amphetamines with
no regard for my health, or the time you exposed me to the police and put
my career in jeopardy so you could keep getting high?" 

"You're right," scoffed House."I'm the horrible one.I'm the one who
pretended to be dead for petty revenge." 

"No, you're the one who callously exposed his friend to potentially
dangerous drug interactions for no reason at all!Even a first year med
student knows not to mix MAO inhibitors with amphetamines!"House tried to
shout over his voice in protest,"You were fine!I didn't give you nearly
enough to induce a reaction," but Wilson paused only momentarily, then
ignored him and went on: "You didn't care enough about me to give your
little prank a second thought, so don't pretend to be hurt by my trick. 

Having the roller coaster of emotions House had experienced over the past
hour thrown back in his face induced a fresh adrenaline rush, and he
hurried at Wilson again, left hand balled into a fist.But before he got
within swinging distance, Wilson kicked his cane out from under him and
House stumbled and went down.Flailing, he caught the edge of his desk and
stopped his fall just in time to avoid a bad blow to the head, his temple
only inches from the sharp corner of the glass desktop. 

Seeing the near consequences of their anger abruptly killed all the
passion behind their heated argument.They'd each had their moment of
catharsis.House knelt motionless on the floor, staring up at Wilson,
startled and pained.Wilson sighed and bent down to help him up. 

"You're pathetic," House told him. 

"For being on antidepressants or for helping you up after you drugged me
and attacked me?" asked Wilson, deadpan and disengaged."Or for believing
you really thought of me as a friend all these years?" 

Upright again, House looked Wilson in the eye."You're a real jerk
sometimes, too."He held out his palm. 

"What?My pills?" said Wilson, surprised. 

"I thought I'd killed you before.I'm feeling depressed.I need help getting
through it." 

With House, you could never tell if he was being earnest or if he was
blowing smoke (often the case was both).Wilson tried to read him and then
shook his head."You are an ass.Or maybe Foreman's right and you're just
evil." 

"That's the speed talking. 

"Why, so you can hide them from me?" 

"No, I'm going to prove to you that your little trick worked.Now give." 

Wilson sighed again and suppressed a glare."No.They'd be wasted on you." 

Anger boiled to the surface again.House lifted his cane and slammed it
against the side of his desk."You didn't like my prank - fine!" he
shouted."But yours crossed the line!" 

Wilson looked surprised by the outburst, and regarded him."You really
believed I was dead?" 

House looked away, a rare show of embarrassment."I misjudged Cuddy," he
explained sheepishly."I thought she would object to a prank like that on
morals, or principles, or whatever." 

"And you were genuinely concerned? 

"What difference does it make?" said House.Wilson staring him down
compelled the answer, "For me.You were already dead, so what was there to
be concerned about?" 

It wasn't the answer he'd been looking for, but Wilson let it go and put
on his `I-know-better-than-you' air, which only he managed to wear without
condescension."Maybe next time you'll think twice before you take me for
granted." 

"I didn't take you for granted.I took an interest.I wanted to know if you
were depressed, which you are." 

"You could have just asked." 

"You would have lied." 

"That's right," Wilson rolled his eyes. 

"Especially you," House replied, pointing his cane at him."And not just
about the little things like most people do.You lie about the big things,
like dying." 

His friend studied him skeptically."So you're saying you slipped me drugs
because you wanted to know if I was "House's still-sheepish silence
answered affirmatively."Why?" Wilson asked."So you could throw it in my
face and feel better about yourself? 

"Because you're my friend," House told him, exasperated."Because friends
are supposed to let each other know when something's wrong, and you've
been hiding this - for how long?The yawning's recent, which means either
you just started, or you recently switched medications--" 

"You want to know why I'm depressed, " Wilson challenged."You really want
me to talk about it?" 

The answer to this was of course  was the one who knew how to deal with
emotions, not House.So, like every other time Wilson started to get too
chatty for his comfort, he would run away - he would wait out their clash
in solitude, and when they met again they wouldn't speak of it, until the
next time House inevitably pushed his friend too far.This was their
relationship.Their inability to find a common plane for discussing the
things that mattered most somehow bound them closer together.They had to
know each other and get along without words. 

He looked at his watch.He decided he'd grown tired of looking at Wilson,
and he headed toward the door."I'm going home to try and sleep.Next time
you want to feel valued, ask me for a favor.That's what I do."In the
hallway, he swung around and stuck his head back in his office to face
Wilson and add, "You might want to wait a week, though.I might not be in a
very generous mood for a few days." 

Downstairs, he offered Cuddy a similar piece of advice, as she smiled
smugly up at him from behind her desk."Next time you tell me Wilson's
dead," he told her, "he better be, or else you're gonna be."