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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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