Full Circle: Chapter Two

[emeraldsnakes]

Title: Wife
Disclaimer: I own none of this.


 

Friday April 15 2005; Prinston Plainsbrough Teaching Hospital; New Jersey; 7:00pm

 

House spun his oversized tennis ball on his finger like it was a basketball and he was a professional player. Bored didn’t even begin to describe his mood but it was the most prominent mood - which was surprising. He didn’t have a case and while normally he would spend this time annoying the good

citizens of the hospital, at the moment it just wasn’t possible.

 

Cameron was running tests in the labs, a ripe picking, but she was PMSing and although he would never admit it, a woman with PMS scared the living shit out of him. And rightfully so. Cuddy was going through the same thing, which frightened him even more. Cameron he could deal with, but Cuddy too? Why was it that all woman seemed to go through this stuff at the same time?

 

That left his three male colleagues all of whom didn’t suffer from PMS. Forman was who knows where and didn’t seem to be taking his bait anymore, which was probably the most annoying thing had happened to him so that was a no go. Chase was at home, a thank you from Cuddy for coming in on his off day two weeks earlier. Since Chase was his favourite he decided against giving him a call. Wilson, on the other hand, was at the hospital but had locked himself in his office. Despite himself, House was worried for his friend. The balcony door was also locked and through the walls he could hear the sounds of thing being thrown around violently. He was going to wait for Wilson to calm down before trying to pick the balcony lock.

 

As if channeling his thoughts the crashing noises ceased to be. House got up and limped outside, awkwardly jumping over the divider. He withdrew a credit card from his pocket and worked the latch until it unlocked.

 

“Hello? Wilson?” he saw the oncologist sitting on his couch, hunched over and cradling his hand. “Wow, did you have one killer party in here or what?” he asked sarcastically, taking in the upturned furniture, beer cans and shattered glass. “Why wasn’t I invited?”

 

“Go away House.” Wilson said without conviction. His voice was tried and strained, halting the sarcastic comment that was threatening to come out of House’s mouth.

 

House didn’t leave, instead choosing to sit beside Wilson. Gently he took a hold of the injured hand and looked it over. It was bloody and clearly broken, possibly in more than one place. A subtle glance showed him that Wilson was shocked at his gentleness.

 

“What could be so bad that it make a person drunk and break his own hand?” House asked sounding like he was asking himself.

 

“Vicodin withdrawal?” the sarcastic reply was laced with a sharp and bitter edge.

 

House was frozen in shock for a moment at the personal jab then stood. “I can take a hint.” It was true, he could, he just usually chose to ignore them.

 

“House,” Wilson called, thinking he may have been a little harsh. “It’s been a bad day.” He explained, offering it as an apology.

 

He leaned back on the couch, closing his eyes. House guessed that Wilson thought he wouldn’t stay, but he did, resuming his previous seat by Wilson’s side.

 

“You should splint that,” House suggested.

 

“Nah, I wanna bang it against a door if I need to administer another dose...” Wilson sighed. “Sorry.”

 

A smile tugged at House’s lips. “I know you usually sound like me whey you’re drunk, but you don’t have to mimic what I’ve said.” He got up and went over to the desk, “You got a first-aid kit around here Doctor?”

 

“File cabinet, bottom drawer. Couldn’t think of anything else to put there.”

 

House grabbed the kit, fishing his Vicodin out of his pocket. He gave it to Wilson as he sat back down.

“Have one, it’ll help with the pain. Physical and psychological.”

 

“I don’t have any psychological pain.”

 

House snorted. “Who are you trying to kid?”

 

He rolled his eyes at Wilson’s useless attempts to break the Vicodin in half. “Wuss.”

 

“I’ve been drinking, it’s unsafe.”

 

House privately thought that even half wouldn’t be safe for a first timer as he broke the pill and gave it to Wilson. “So, what prompted the binge drinking?” He popped the other half of Vicodin in his mouth.

Wilson sighed as House began to clean his hand with alcohol wipes. “I’ve had the divorce papers for a few days now and everything was set. I was so close to getting what I wanted.”

 

“Mmmhmm,” House said, waiting for Wilson to continue, wondering where he was headed.

 

“All I needed was her signature! But noooo, she goes off and disappears with her boyfriend. The cops want to take me in for questioning, the think I did it!”

 

“Did you?”

 

Wilson looked at him, outraged and shocked, “Of course I didn’t! But everyone in the Clinic heard me yell at you last week that I wanted her gone. There was witnesses House! Witnesses!”

 

House shook his head, “There are a lot of character witnesses too. No one would actually believe you’d get rid of Julie illegally. You’re not the type,” he said confidently as he finished bandaging Wilson’s hand.

“Come on, you can crash at my place. We’ll go through my emergency stash of scotch. I’m pretty sure this is classified as an emergency.”

 

House got up and would have helped Wilson if he let himself. They walked through the hospital in silence and into House’s car. As House started it up Wilson softly said ‘thanks’ then lapsed back into silence. Half way to House’s Wilson suddenly seemed to remember about his cell phone which he’d turned off around lunch.

 

There was only one message on it, from an unlisted phone with an area code he didn’t recognize. Frowning in suspicion Wilson clicked the playback and put the phone to his ear.

 

“Jim, it’s your father.” Wilson swallowed thickly. Jonathan Wilson only called during the holidays or if there was an emergency. His father sighed, “There’s no easy way to tell you this but, you mother has...died. She was shot. There’s not much I can tell you, I just wanted you to hear it from me instead of the police. I’m...don’t call me, you wont be able to reach me. If I can I’ll give you a call. I’m proud of you Jim, your mother was too and we both love you very much.”

 

Wilson listened in shock as this new wave of hurt and pain crashed into him. His mother was...dead? ‘She was shot’ his dad had said but he’d failed to mention by whom. Did that mean he knew and didn’t want to say or had he been away at the time and come home to the sight of his wife dead. Had she even been killed at home?

 

He absently close the phone once the message was finished, letting his hand fall into his lap like it was dead weight. He felt...numb. The tears leaking from his eyes he barely felt, not that he cared. House was his best friend and had seen him cry before. He only paid attention to what was outside himself when House pulled the Corvette over and started speaking to him.

 

“You really should turn the sound down on your phone, I heard every word of that.” House paused for a moment. “You’re no going to upturn all the furniture in my place like you did your office are you?”

 

Wilson smile a very small smile. “No,” he said, unable to speak any louder than a whisper, “your furniture will be fine.”