house_wilson_ghc | Spring Cleaning (Reply)

Summary: Wilson needs House to help him get out of a rut.

Rating: PG

Warning: Spoilers for "Wilson’s Heart", 4x16 and slightly spoilery for 5x14, “The Greater Good”.

Disclaimer: If I owned “House, MD” there’d be a lot more scenes with House and Wilson…alas, I do not own “House” and never will...I credit all my inspiration to David Shore and company….though he’ll never read this, I thank him anyway.

It took Wilson nearly a year to find the courage observe what remained of Amber's old laundry, which had been getting musty in the basement that already smelled (for reasons unknown to him) like stale wine and old cheese. One day, he went down to check the plumbing and discovered that the rampant odor he was smelling was not a dead rat, but the stench of moldy, mildewed clothes. The nausea hit him instantly and was like a punch to the gut that was enough to leave him reeling.

Drawing nearer to the dusty basket he was horrified to find that some of the clothes had been relentlessly chewed on, and it seemed as though a mouse had found a home in one of her blouses. Letting out an almost indiginous yelp of rage, Wilson instinctively kicked the basket and bolted from the basement, running to the bathroom where he proceeded to splash indefinite amounts of water on his face as though to rid himself of disease.

After he had stepped outside to collect his senses, the one thought that slowed his hyperventilating was that he should call House.

It was a Saturday, and he knew House usually took full advantage and slept in---but he was hoping beyond hopes that he would be awake. He wasn't sure how he would put into words what he wanted, but he hoped that House wouldn't call him a coward or berate him for even trying.

The phone rang for several palm-sweating and heart-racing minutes, when finally House answered gruffly, "Hello...?"

"House, it's me....I need to talk." Wilson blurted the words before he could hesitate, then held his breath instinctively---immediately tensing for the blow that was sure to come as a response to such nakedness.

Instead, House surprised him by exhaling heavily into the phone before probing wearily, "Okay...you've got me up...now, what's the emergency, Wilson?"

He spoke so fast he barely knew what he was going to say before it popped out of his mouth. "I can't take it anymore, House...the walls are closing in on me....her walls...I can't be living here surrounded by...all these...things." Wilson tried to compose himself, but he knew his desperation was beginning to show. "It's...it's getting to be...too much...too close to the anniversary of her death." He took a deep breath, trying to prevent his quaking nerves from possibly imploding before he managed to get to the point. "I need you to help me..." He tried to say the rest, but he immediately choked on the words, and could not go on.

A pregnant, awkward pause: and then House proceeded to fill in the rest for him bluntly, "You want me to help you get rid of her things."

Wilson felt awash with relief, except now that the intial step had been taken, he felt embarrassed for showing such weakness. "You'd probably see it as a threat to your masculinity...but..." He felt his face reddening deeply as he haltingly continued, "I would really appriciate it if you could stop by and help me sort of...sort through her stuff...."

"I have to admit," House concured dryly, "it does sound a bit too girly for the likes of me, Wilson...shouldn't you really be asking Cuddy to do this kind of thing? After all, what with her brand-new mothering instincts just kicking in, she's probably already knee-deep into full 'nesting' mode....and it'd probably do you a world of good to be subjected to a woman's touch."

Wilson frowned, knowing he shouldn't be surprised with House's response; yet he found himself struggling to ward off the stinging slap of House's rejection. "She'd have to bring Rachel...it wouldn't be fair to the baby."

"What do you think happens to Rachel all day when her mom's in the throes of all that paperwork? Do you think she's out on the town somewhere, or maybe getting a tan?"

"Cuddy reserves the weekends specifically for spending quality time with her daughter," Wilson argued flatly, trying desperately to fend off the relentless waves of helplessness that were hitting him with the force of a squall. "I know you don't really care about all that sentimental stuff, but...it's really important to her."

"So it should be important to me, then?" House retorted with a subliminal snort. "Why not help Rachel get used to the fact that she's going to have to simply get used to abandonment?"

Wilson shook his head regretfully, fully lacking the will to argue. "All right...fine," he mumbled, knowing he sounded pathetic, "Forget I asked."

He was about to hang up the phone when House stopped him with an abrupt, though reluctant: "Wilson! Wait."

Wilson laughed almost bitterly, and he was afraid to hear a touch of hysteria in it. "I've really had enough of your wisecracks today, House...I really don't think I can stomach any more dissapointment."

There was a silence on the other line which, for reasons beyond his comprehension, planted a daring, though microscopic, seed of hope. He held his breath as he waited, while he could practically hear the gears working away manically in House's brain. Then House said, in a voice almost so soft that Wilson could barely hear him: "Why do you want me to be the one to help you do this?"

Wilson was baffled by the question---rarely did he ever bare witness to House's atypical self-doubt. "Are you--serious? You really don't know?" he managed to stammer, in spite of himself.

"I'm not exactly the sentimental type, in case you haven't noticed," House replied soberly.

Wilson almost chuckled in spite of himself: laughing, because he was surprised House hadn't been able to puzzle this one out. "Yes--which is exactly why I want you there...you won't let me get all caught up in the memories, the nostalgia...you'll help me be objective, and see that they're really...just...things. Then, maybe...just maybe...I'll be able to get myself through this...and finally manage to get out of this horrible rut I've been in."

His words were met with a wall of silence that seemed to last forever, before House opened the gate at last by saying, "Just as long as there's no obligation for hugging, and you order a pizza and buy a few beers..."

Wilson held the gate open gladly, nearly choking up with newfound relief. "On me...I'll see you in a few....and House?"

"Yeah?"

"...Thanks."