Fic': TEETH MARKS Part V (final)
Dec. 8th, 2009 11:40 am![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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house_wilson_ghcTEETH MARKS
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Part V (Final)
By GeeLady
Time-line: Season 6. Alternate Universe/Vampire life...
Summary: "At last this is bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh"...Wilson quoted, adding "And blood of my blood." House would live. Nothing else mattered.
Pairing: House/Wilson. Wilson is a little OC here, but then he's not really himself, is he?
Rating: NC-17 SLASH ADULT. Angst. (You have been warned).
Disclaimer: The blue-eyed babe with the cane - sigh! - is not mine.
*Story idea by graceasaur! Thanks my friend.
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House endured the cocoon of bloody vampire for eight hours before his leg commanded him to find some pain killers or else. Once he began to shift his limbs, Wilson arose from his sleep of the dead and they peeled their skins from one another, both now brown-stained and sticky with drying blood. Little pebbles of the congealed stuff had worked its way into House's hair and between his fingers. "Gross."
Wilson sat up. He looked a sight, but House gently brushed aside his shredded shirt to reveal a completely healed and intact skin. "That's impossible."
"Vampirism is impossible, but here I am."
"Yeah." House wasn't crazy about either reality. "So how often is this stuff going to happen? Me or you almost dying 'cause of your club friends?"
"They're not my friends. And I don't know."
House gimped to the bathroom and popped his Ativan and various other drugs meant to keep him painless - hah! - or mentally together, a real neat trick when there's a fabled creature of the night sitting on his bed, peeling off clothing stiffened with dried blood.
When Wilson removed his pants and boxers, House averted his eyes. It was just too goddamn real to be so unreal. "So, the game is either you get a new hobby, or one of us becomes un-killable so we can kick the asses of any more of these blood suckers before one or the other, or both, of us gets killed." In the mirror he got a glimpse of a rather nice set of naked legs, as Wilson pulled on a clean pair of jeans.
House turned back once Wilson was again partly dressed. Wilson had foregone a shirt. Either being a vampire had bulked him up, or Wilson had been working out lately. House suddenly felt very annoyed with his muscle and ivory-blessed room-mate. "Any ideas, Louis?"
"One or two, but they're dangerous."
"More dangerous than this? Hit me."
Wilson padded into the living room and House followed. "As unappetizing as it is, I could do a Feed on a vampire more powerful than me, or a number of them. I would acquire their power, their strengths."
"So no human has to die and you become Super-Vam'? Sounds like win-win."
Wilson entered the kitchen and out of old, old habit, began tidying up the counter, putting things away and straightening the appliances. "Then there's the dangers."
"Danger-s? Figures."
"I would also acquire their weaknesses, and their debasements. It could result in not much of me being me anymore." Wilson turned to House. "You could lose me altogether."
House didn't look happy, which in reverse made Wilson feel a little better. "And that means I could lose you." Wilson added. "And I'm not willing to risk that."
House threw up his hands, but without much enthusiasm, his left hand still gripping the cane. "So we're screwed."
Wilson thought about it, his eyes somehow coming to rest on the two bite marks on the left side of House's throat, the scars made more prominent by his own fangs re-opening the wounds in order to save House's life with his own non-living life-blood. "I'm sorry I had to do that to you." He said, nodding to House's throat.
House automatically raised his left hand and probed at the scars with the tips of his fingers. "Don't worry about it."
Wilson knew House hid the marks beneath turtle neck sweaters which he had begun to wear again. Thus far, no one at his place of work had noticed the vampire bite on his neck, or if they had, dismissed it as House screwing with their minds.
Wilson loved and hated the marks. Hated the scarring because the greatest damage had come from Donald's fangs gone deep in an especially cruel Feed. Loved them because his own fangs had gone in after and saved House's life. The marks told two stories. House had been attacked and was scarred for life (again), but also through Wilson's necessary and very intimate contact, House had become in a very private and intimate way, attached to Wilson. House now belonged to James Wilson the Vampire, Esq'., though House was not truly aware of that fact. Not yet.
"There's only one way to keep us safe forever without risking my present...nature." Wilson said, unable to think of a more accurate phrase. "I'd have to capture and drink the blood of the strongest vampire in the world. I'd have to bring Yolanda here, somehow, Feed and then kill her."
House flicked his eyes from side to side. "That's all, huh?"
Wilson shrugged. There was nothing for it. It was that or run and hide for the rest of House's life or his own existence, whichever lasted the longest. Right now it was even numbers. "I would have to issue a challenge."
"You mean see how many losers either of you can fill up on in a minute? That sort of thing?"
Wilson allowed a small smile. "No. I'd be challenging her throne. Her so-called ruler-ship - her queen-hood."
"So if you win, you get to be the queen's and mince happily ever after?"
"Something like that."
"Okay." House took a deep breath. Life sucked and apparently, for a lot of people, so did death. "Let's do that."
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Wilson sent his challenge out on the "air" waves. Most vamp's didn't carry cell phones since most vamp's didn't have any friends or loved ones of any description. For the most part the word spread through vampire thought or, among those of lesser powers, via good old fashioned gossip.
But Wilson heard nothing back. "Maybe Yolanda doesn't care?" House said to him one night many weeks later. Wilson didn't believe it for a second. Donald had been one of her favorite wind-up toys, there had to come recompense for his murder.
House was preoccupied with a case and was spending a great deal of his time at work, which made for some lonely nights for Wilson (those nights he wasn't working or on a Feed). But it also meant that House was snuggled in the safety of daylight and, even when he was there until very late, surrounded with the security of people. Safety in numbers, and no vampire in his or her right mind would try an assault in such a public and confining space as a hospital.
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House stepped under the hot spray. It had been an exhausting day and his back and leg and most other parts of him ached. The men's shower was empty and he had as much hot water as he wanted, and all the time in the world. It was mid-afternoon, and he had sent his team home. Given them the following day off, in fact, providing Cuddy didn't come up with another case.
The patient had been a man in his thirties who'd arrived suffering from systemic muscle pain accompanied by bloodshot eyes. Foreman and he had argued back an forth on autoimmune and staphylococcal toxic shock syndrome respectively, until the fellow happened to mention to Thirteen that he had taken his wife up to the cabin.
Thirteen had at first assumed a cabin in the woods. House had pointed out that "Woods or no woods, no target rash and no tick means it's not Lyme disease."
"The target rash doesn't show up on everyone." Taub pointed out.
"But in ninety-nine percent of cases it does." House replied.
"Maybe the rash is in a place no one would think to look." Thirteen said, subtly reminding House of the case she had solved by shaving a boys head, and locating the rash.
Reminding her in return - "This guy is bald." House answered.
Where-after quiet little Taub had spoken up. "But I'll bet he's not bald everywhere."
A second physical examination of the man had revealed an infected rash on the underside of his penis that was spreading around its base and up to the crease between his abdomen and the roll of sagging stomach fat.
Doxycycline had been duly introduced into the patient's IV, but House had still been left with lingering doubts. Until the patient himself bored House for a few moments with talk of he and his wife's cabin trip. "She loves walking on the beach."
House had sighed heavily, dying to leave. "Where is this cabin of yours and your darling wife's?"
"Corsica."
"France??" House had managed to maintain enough control of his temper not to cuff the guy upside the head. And not to spout at Thirteen over what an idiot she was. All he said to her was - "Next time someone talks about their vacation spot, make sure you know which continent it's on. He doesn't have Lyme Disease, he has Sandfly fever."
"We're already treating him for Lyme Disease..." Foreman said.
"I know, and the Doxycycline won't hurt him any. Let the bag run out. If his crotch is clearing up by morning rounds, then we know for sure it's not Lyme Disease because it doesn't respond that fast." They sent the patient home with a few Tylenol and a follow-up appointment with his regular physician.
Case solved.
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Wilson was very concerned about the lack of response from Yolanda. It was possible she might have been destroyed. That would be nice, but he doubted it. No vampires had shown up.
And, an hour after House had called to say he was on his way home, House hadn't shown up either. It was daylight. House was safe. He had probably stopped to pick up beer or one of his disgusting pepperoni and mushroom pizza's.
Beer; barley grain spiked with hops and sugar, boiled and cooled, then left to "ferment". Pizza: Slices of preserved, heavily spiced cow flank, and fungi grown in cow shit, slapped on round dough, covered in white strings of gooey milk product - essentially living bacteria (at least until the oven baked them to death). Humans really had a thing for rotting bacteria. It was difficult to imagine he had ever consumed anything so grotesque.
He tried House's cellular. There was no answer but House's voice saying: "Don't leave a message - I won't call you back anyway."
He replaced the hand-held on its small charger. Wilson had gone on a good Feed two nights ago so he was set for the week. About the only human food he could still consume and actually enjoy was strawberry herb tea, and he set water on to boil.
Truth was, he was bored. Vampire life seemed to be plagued with many of the same conundrums as human life was, such as: what do you do when you're home alone and missing the one you love? Television was a poor substitute for human contact, or vampire for that matter.
House was late, but Wilson could relax knowing that as long as it was daylight, he was safe. There wasn't a vampire on the planet who would venture out under the sun and risk crisping his skin until he was repulsive. Vampires are, for the most part, terribly vain creatures. James laughed at himself. Among their ilk, Wilson the human had fit right in.
Sunshine, the bane of all toothy varmints, but loved by humans the world over.
Wilson stared at the blue-orange flame wiggling its fingers out from beneath the kettle's blackened bottom rim, and licking back streaks up the polished curve of metal. Yes, the sun was adored by the living but, he was suddenly horrified to remember, the second-to-dead could also bask under it's harmful rays without it raising nary a mark on their white, paper-thin skin.
Renfelds. Auxiliators. Human youths pressed into a vampire's service through mind control and weakened condition. Renfelds were a vampire's human minions. Powerful vamp's often had more than one. Auxiliators; living, walking, talking snacks. Repeatedly bitten and drank from by their masters or their masters followers. Renfelds could go out in the day and Yolanda, as the so-called queen, probably had a small army of them.
Wilson looked at the window with frightened eyes that understood as clearly as a sunburst; that comprehended like no other that House was not safe. Wilson could tell by the pink streaming in between the blinds that, though the sun was setting, it hadn't yet done so all the way. He had no choice but to wait. Wilson cursed himself, trying House's cell again and getting the same recording. "House, call me the second you get this. Stay at work until I get there. Don't go anywhere with anyone! Even if you think you know them. Call me!"
Wilson returned to the living room window, peeking through to see that the sun was half way gone. There was still too much of it. He shook for House, the fear he felt, not for himself, but for his cherished human, was a private quake.
He peeked through again. Still just a little too much painful light. He didn't care if he got singed, but too bad of a burn would make it impossible for him to ever venture out again. As quickly and as thoroughly as vampire skin repaired itself from other injuries, it was even more vulnerable than a human's, and burns from the yellow sun left permanent and ugly scars.
But even the fading pink, cooler light would reveal him for who he was - he would not be able to fly and remain anonymous, and therefore an invisible domesticated, urban vamp'. James liked this life he had made, and was happy that he had made that life with House. And of course he loved House.
Wilson waited as long as he could stand it. "Fuck it!" He threw on his long coat and flung the door open, not bothering to lock it behind him. Keeping as much to the shadows of the buildings as he could, James breathed a sigh of relief as the last curve of the star dipped below the horizon of hills and dirty, smoke-belching buildings of the downtown.
Flying above the roof-tops as quickly and as recklessly as he dared, he made it to Princeton hospital in only minutes.
Taking his entrance by way of House's office balcony, he found the office empty. The team had gone home. So where was House? Wilson could not afford to search the entire hospital. There were far too many people he could run into who not only would recognize him, but would delay his efforts with stale greetings and numbing chatter about their humans lives; which he cared not a dusted vamp' about.
James dialed House's cell phone again and he heard a faint ringing. Following it to its source, it was coming from beneath the desk. James picked it up. House's cell phone, abandoned. House was gone. He could guess where.
Instead of rising to his challenge and coming to America, Yolanda was seeing to it that he would have to come to her.
Wilson dropped the phone and disappeared into the air above Princeton. It would take him several hours of flying, stopping to Feed, then flying again, to reach the self-appointed Queen's hill-top home above the lights and bustle of Copenhagen.
Yolanda had taken his love. If she so much as pulled a single hair from his head...but it was a bold move on her part, as she was not ignorant to his power. James promised himself that taking House was a decision she would not survive to regret. Not even as one of the un-dead.
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"Yolanda!" James shouted as he set down through the open, masonry-framed window of her mansion. It was an abandoned, tumbled down place, built to bear the resemblance to a mansion. There it was failing miserably.
"Where is he?" James wandered the empty halls. He knew House was near-by, he could feel him, he was alive. "Are you going to hide all night?" James shouted at the top of his voice. It echoed over and over and over.
That was probably one of the reasons she annexed the empty mausoleum in the first place. It looked scary and sounded frightening - to a human.
Not to a vampire. To a vampire it was empty stone and pointless noise.
From the shadows Yolanda appeared surrounded by two dozen of her strongest, most debased servants. "How good of you to come, James." She glided across the floor, dressed in her torn flowing chiffon gown, her blonde hair streaked with black and silver.
James was amused. "You look ridiculous." He chuckled. "Have you been watching Munster re-runs again?"
Yolanda smiled. "I confess I do have a weakness for the artifice of our species. Very effective guise for my less credulous human Feeds." She floated to and sat down on an ornate chair that two of her servants pulled up for her from a curtained alcove. The once rich velvet of its cushion was stained and torn with age and ill-use. When the curtain swished back and forth before settling, James made out a collection of broken furniture and thick collections of rolling dust balls. Here, everything was cracked, and old. Used up. Pathetic. Much like Yolanda herself.
Still, she had power and control over dozens, perhaps thousands. And though no one would ever have called her beautiful, she still carried an air of breeding about her.
Most of that, Wilson knew, was the effect of atmosphere. From her scary house on a dark hill, surrounded as she was by filthy, crazed vampires with nothing more imaginative on their minds than Feeding and scraping before her for all eternity, it was a role. Yolanda played the part rather well.
"What do you want?" He asked. He cut to the chase, hoping to sidestep the elaborate mazes of the so-called fun many vampires manufactured in situations like these.
"Why, what you wanted - a challenge, but with an alteration of my own making." She waved a hand and House was brought out, limping. He was sans cane and his head bagged with his own tee-shirt. His naked torso shivered in the cold. "I know you don't want to be leader of the vampires, James, and his will be so much more enjoyable anyway."
House was forced to his knees. Wilson swallowed any fear. That was the worst thing among vampires - show fear and you are as good as disowned. Yolanda would set her slaves upon him and they would greedily snack on vampire blood. And then human. "What alteration?"
"You love him. The rumors have reached everywhere, you know. A vampire who not only lives with his food, but loves it, too. It's barbaric, James. It's perverse. What do you see in this weak creature who is good for nothing but a single meal?"
"More than you could ever see. What is your alteration?"
"So you do love him, yes? We are here to find out if he loves you. Will he be able to tell, blindfolded, which vampire is his love and which vampire is his destroyer?"
James had worried that it might be something like that. Loving a human being was heavily frowned upon. Forbidden, in fact, by most respectable vamp's. "Humans do not have that ability. He could not find me that way, so your alteration is invalid."
"To quote a human poet," Yolanda sneered, "Love consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other."
"That's talking about feelings in the heart, it has nothing to do wi-"
"-Love is energy of life!" She shouted. "Love prefers twilight to daylight!" She said again at the top of her lungs. "Isn't that right, human!?" She reached across the room in an instant of time and slapped House on the side of his head. He fell over but was hauled to his knees again by cold, dead hands.
Yolanda had not moved from her chair. "You love the dark, human? You love the twilight?"
Addressing the whole room again - "Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies." She said, repeating words she could not possibly understand. "Is that correct, Food?" She directly spoke to House again but with the contemptible word of his sole substance in her eyes. "Does James love you only for your warm blood and red flushed skin? Such things to us are the bowls of life. They are our lusts and served upon our dinner table.
"He only dreams of your soul, human. James dreams of yours because he wants his own back. But he can't have it. Dead things cannot contain life, and vampires can only contain the memories of the blood they have eaten. And so James feeds on the visions your soul secrets away. He is Feeding on your life, Food, only he is too weak to drain it properly."
James willed House to remain quiet. To say not a word, not a overly loud breath that she might desire it for the blood in which it lived, and rip his throat out. House remained still. James wondered if he had managed to project his thoughts onto his lover's mind. Perhaps love is energy. Perhaps, in their case, it would respond to the twilight more than to the sun. If so, perhaps his ownership of it was not hopeless after all. Maybe they would live passed this night.
Yolanda had tired of her game, and of the human who had not spoken back. "This vampire does not love you, human." She sighed, wearying of the events. Vampires, their games woven in and out in webs, were eternal creatures and bored very easily. "Twenty-four of my vampires shall stand in a wide circle. You, James, will stand with them. If your human can sense which one of you is the vampire that loves him, and that he loves, you are both free to go. No one will bother you anymore."
James knew better than to believe her. But he could not take on two dozen agents and Yolanda as well. "How do I know you will keep your word?"
"I'm the Queen." As though her nothing words contained everything.
James had no choice but to allow the test. "What happens to House if he fails?"
"Then the choice is yours. Your life or his. If you chose his life, you let him go forever and disappear. You never touch him again. If you choose your life, you must Feed on him, and prove your selfish worth, as all worthy vampires eventually do." Yolanda yawned. "Love is my religion - I could die for it." She smiled widely. "Choose well, James. That life you live wasn't cheap."
James did not like those choices, not that he had any other obvious options. "Then I agree."
The vampires circled House, who was thrust to the center of the ring and pushed to his backside. His arms were wrenched almost from their sockets and tied behind him, the bonds tightened so that he yelped. The vampiress who had made the knots delighted in the pain she had caused. "You smell delicious." She said to him, though loudly enough for the human-loving traitorous vampire to hear.
Such rage it elicited in James. You'll die second. He was gnawing to pinch her head off between his fingers. He would do it gradually, reveling in every pop and snap of bone and sinew. Anticipating the colorful flow from what would soon be her real and complete death, it fired the power in him, making him taut in his intent and ready to explode in his planned vengeance.
"Thank you." He said to her, and she stared back in confusion, then covering her discomfort with the baseless giggle of the ignorant.
The vampires fanned out, making the circle larger, spacing themselves, swaying in hungry anticipation; a macabre dance. How they loved their games. Since love or a real feeling could not dwell within the un-dead, amusement fit just as well.
James watched House sit there, turning his blind-folded eyes this way and that. Nothing moved but the lone human and the curtains teased by the open windows. James willed every fibre of his being to send the thought to House's mind. "I'm here. To your left...to your left! I'm right here. Over here, House. Please...baby, come over here..."
If he could have felt despair, James would have when House at first turned his head to the right. But then, his head snapped back around.
James was elated. Yes. He's hearing me! He see's my voice and knows to come to me. This way, sweetness, this way!
House, wriggled himself to his knees, and managed an awkward stump-walk over to where James stood as silent as still as the others. Even now, House limped on his one bad leg. But that didn't matter - he had chosen correctly!
James said to Yolanda, the Queen of the losing side, his tone defiance, his manner triumphant. "He has chosen correctly, Yolanda. According to your word, we are free to go."
Her face twisted in fury and hate. "You'll go no where as long as I'm alive." She waved her ugly arms to her ready horde who had surrounded them both. "KILL THEM!"
James had expected nothing less than betrayal from her. But if they were going to die, she would be the first to taste it. Using all his power and that of Judith and every vampire or human he had ever taken in, James leaped across the room and took Yolanda down with a single swipe of his hand. His nails raked across her skin, leaving tracks that faded as soon as they had marked.
But he was not finished. Yolanda, if not killed in the next instant, would quickly overpower him. James ripped opened her throat, tearing her jugular, then tossed her bleeding-out form to the minions who had been steadily crowding in on House. Still tied up and helpless, there was no where for him to run, if he could even have done so blindfolded and crippled.
None of them had even seen the traitor vampire move until it was all over and their leader was a corpse for the second time. "Here!" James shouted to them, they turning to his voice. "Don't you want the power of your queen!?"
Her fickle, greedy followers immediately set upon her, ripping her limb from limb, sucking up whatever each of them could swallow from her ancient and legendary powers, leaving only two night-crawlers who remained still focused on a human Feed. One of them was the female vamp' who had mocked House's pain - and so his own as well.
James killed them both with a snap of his wrists, their heads, hers then his, falling away and their bodies disintegrating in a gray puff of formless powder. Grit for the scratched marble floor. Sightless feet would walk on them, unaware, uncaring.
Without a second look at the Feed frenzy, James scooped House up over his shoulder and disappeared through the window, calling out for them to hear - "LOVE SEEKETH NOT ITSELF TO PLEASE, NOR FOR ITSELF HATH ANY CARE, BUT FOR ANOTHER GIVES ITS EASE, AND BUILDS A HEAVEN IN HELL'S DESPAIR!!"*
A battle cry. The winning trumpets. The beating drum. The cheer of victory. The sacredness of life preserved so it could be cherished one more day. James mused as he flew through the fine night air that he was glad Wilson was such a sap when it came to poetry. That one had suited rather well, he thought. House was warm over his shoulder. Forever he, James, would also be warm, as long as he could feel the skin of this man cradling his own. Each had risked their life for the other. If that wasn't love...
Suddenly James didn't feel so un-dead after all. Perhaps there were no un-dead - not really. Perhaps there were only the un-loving.
Once back home, Wilson put an unconscious House to bed, and then ensured all windows and doors were securely locked. Probably there was no need anymore. Now that he had slaughtered Yolanda, his reputation was solidified. He was more powerful than even their reputed queen had been. Wilson knew it wasn't true, of course. James hadn't been stronger, just smarter. But in any world, power was more politics than battles fought. And because power was also an illusion, the other vampires would leave them alone now.
House stirred and entered the living room. Wilson made sure he had coffee ready - the disgustingly bitter stuff - and after adding cream and sugar, House drank it gratefully.
James was proud of his tough, fragile, marvelous human. Wilson was proud, too, and asked him - "How did you know where to turn? I was sending you my thoughts, hoping...did you really hear me, I mean the James me, in your mind?"
House turned his head to look at his friend. Yes, he did love this man-like thing. More man that like; enough that it didn't make any difference anymore. And the other, the vampire one - James, a frightening creature, but still a creature. Not a demon, not a god from hell. House was still undecided which one was more exciting. But he now knew he wanted both. Whether that was love by proximity, drug or blood, he didn't care. He loved Wilson. He loved James.
How lucky can one human get? "I didn't."
Wilson frowned. "Then how...?" It would have been impossible.
"None of the other vampires were wearing Gucci aftershave."
Wilson stared in shock. Simple deduction by a brilliant human diagnostician. Only humans would have noticed such an odor. No vampire sought to distinguish one smell from another save for the blood of their meals. Wilson dared to thank god he had been wearing it. In fact, ever since becoming a vampire and having to cope with the musty smell of his own deadness, he had been using double the morning splash.
Wilson laughed uproariously at House's simple solution, throwing back his head then, when he had recovered himself, leaned in and kissed House on the lips, House allowing it. In fact, to Wilson's shock and delight, he kissed back.
Wilson let go of the lips he had been dreaming about for years and backed off to see his love's - his lover's - face. "Is this all right?"
House shrugged. "Well, it'd be more comfortable in the bedroom, but if you want to stay here on the nice, hard couch, I'm okay with tha-"
Wilson snatched him up and they were lying on the bedroom mattress in seconds flat. House didn't know he had even been moved until he felt the springy thing beneath him and Wilson's cool body draped over him from head to toe.
"Neat trick." House said. "Don't do it again, though, or your cut off."
Wilson grinned like a fool. "Deal." Then resumed his exploration of House's lips and mouth. Removing their clothes at a more controlled pace, he plunged House's willing body with his own, and it occurred to him that rarely, but wonderfully, vampire dreams came true. Maybe it was because he had clung to the remnants of life through his unfathomable love for this human. Maybe because this human had clung to him.
Perhaps that had confused the gods enough to leave them be.
Whatever. Wilson raked his body up against House's, both their cocks hard and taking of the friction of each other, building toward something neither of them had ever before known in the other. House warmed him, and he cooled House. Life or death, hot or cold, together a balm for the soul and the absent-of-soul. Wilson reasoned; not life but what life was made of. This was new. Something here was being born.
James fucked, kissed and licked his lover in the darkness. He agreed.
For either soul, the dark wasn't so bad after all.
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END
We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
W. Shakespeare.
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The poets Yolanda quotes are, in order:
Rainer Maria Rilke
Robert Browning
Oliver Wendell Holmes
John Donne
John Keats
James quotes William Blake.
and
The final poem snippet is from W. Shakespeare's The Tempest (Prospero)
Go here: http://www.btool.net/host2/userimage/200911/25/20091125173843_87dc79d3dc83223baabcd6a97fa566d7.jpg
to see zer03908's marvelous art of Vampire Wilson sucking throat with House!
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Part V (Final)
By GeeLady
Time-line: Season 6. Alternate Universe/Vampire life...
Summary: "At last this is bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh"...Wilson quoted, adding "And blood of my blood." House would live. Nothing else mattered.
Pairing: House/Wilson. Wilson is a little OC here, but then he's not really himself, is he?
Rating: NC-17 SLASH ADULT. Angst. (You have been warned).
Disclaimer: The blue-eyed babe with the cane - sigh! - is not mine.
*Story idea by graceasaur! Thanks my friend.
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House endured the cocoon of bloody vampire for eight hours before his leg commanded him to find some pain killers or else. Once he began to shift his limbs, Wilson arose from his sleep of the dead and they peeled their skins from one another, both now brown-stained and sticky with drying blood. Little pebbles of the congealed stuff had worked its way into House's hair and between his fingers. "Gross."
Wilson sat up. He looked a sight, but House gently brushed aside his shredded shirt to reveal a completely healed and intact skin. "That's impossible."
"Vampirism is impossible, but here I am."
"Yeah." House wasn't crazy about either reality. "So how often is this stuff going to happen? Me or you almost dying 'cause of your club friends?"
"They're not my friends. And I don't know."
House gimped to the bathroom and popped his Ativan and various other drugs meant to keep him painless - hah! - or mentally together, a real neat trick when there's a fabled creature of the night sitting on his bed, peeling off clothing stiffened with dried blood.
When Wilson removed his pants and boxers, House averted his eyes. It was just too goddamn real to be so unreal. "So, the game is either you get a new hobby, or one of us becomes un-killable so we can kick the asses of any more of these blood suckers before one or the other, or both, of us gets killed." In the mirror he got a glimpse of a rather nice set of naked legs, as Wilson pulled on a clean pair of jeans.
House turned back once Wilson was again partly dressed. Wilson had foregone a shirt. Either being a vampire had bulked him up, or Wilson had been working out lately. House suddenly felt very annoyed with his muscle and ivory-blessed room-mate. "Any ideas, Louis?"
"One or two, but they're dangerous."
"More dangerous than this? Hit me."
Wilson padded into the living room and House followed. "As unappetizing as it is, I could do a Feed on a vampire more powerful than me, or a number of them. I would acquire their power, their strengths."
"So no human has to die and you become Super-Vam'? Sounds like win-win."
Wilson entered the kitchen and out of old, old habit, began tidying up the counter, putting things away and straightening the appliances. "Then there's the dangers."
"Danger-s? Figures."
"I would also acquire their weaknesses, and their debasements. It could result in not much of me being me anymore." Wilson turned to House. "You could lose me altogether."
House didn't look happy, which in reverse made Wilson feel a little better. "And that means I could lose you." Wilson added. "And I'm not willing to risk that."
House threw up his hands, but without much enthusiasm, his left hand still gripping the cane. "So we're screwed."
Wilson thought about it, his eyes somehow coming to rest on the two bite marks on the left side of House's throat, the scars made more prominent by his own fangs re-opening the wounds in order to save House's life with his own non-living life-blood. "I'm sorry I had to do that to you." He said, nodding to House's throat.
House automatically raised his left hand and probed at the scars with the tips of his fingers. "Don't worry about it."
Wilson knew House hid the marks beneath turtle neck sweaters which he had begun to wear again. Thus far, no one at his place of work had noticed the vampire bite on his neck, or if they had, dismissed it as House screwing with their minds.
Wilson loved and hated the marks. Hated the scarring because the greatest damage had come from Donald's fangs gone deep in an especially cruel Feed. Loved them because his own fangs had gone in after and saved House's life. The marks told two stories. House had been attacked and was scarred for life (again), but also through Wilson's necessary and very intimate contact, House had become in a very private and intimate way, attached to Wilson. House now belonged to James Wilson the Vampire, Esq'., though House was not truly aware of that fact. Not yet.
"There's only one way to keep us safe forever without risking my present...nature." Wilson said, unable to think of a more accurate phrase. "I'd have to capture and drink the blood of the strongest vampire in the world. I'd have to bring Yolanda here, somehow, Feed and then kill her."
House flicked his eyes from side to side. "That's all, huh?"
Wilson shrugged. There was nothing for it. It was that or run and hide for the rest of House's life or his own existence, whichever lasted the longest. Right now it was even numbers. "I would have to issue a challenge."
"You mean see how many losers either of you can fill up on in a minute? That sort of thing?"
Wilson allowed a small smile. "No. I'd be challenging her throne. Her so-called ruler-ship - her queen-hood."
"So if you win, you get to be the queen's and mince happily ever after?"
"Something like that."
"Okay." House took a deep breath. Life sucked and apparently, for a lot of people, so did death. "Let's do that."
-
-
Wilson sent his challenge out on the "air" waves. Most vamp's didn't carry cell phones since most vamp's didn't have any friends or loved ones of any description. For the most part the word spread through vampire thought or, among those of lesser powers, via good old fashioned gossip.
But Wilson heard nothing back. "Maybe Yolanda doesn't care?" House said to him one night many weeks later. Wilson didn't believe it for a second. Donald had been one of her favorite wind-up toys, there had to come recompense for his murder.
House was preoccupied with a case and was spending a great deal of his time at work, which made for some lonely nights for Wilson (those nights he wasn't working or on a Feed). But it also meant that House was snuggled in the safety of daylight and, even when he was there until very late, surrounded with the security of people. Safety in numbers, and no vampire in his or her right mind would try an assault in such a public and confining space as a hospital.
-
-
House stepped under the hot spray. It had been an exhausting day and his back and leg and most other parts of him ached. The men's shower was empty and he had as much hot water as he wanted, and all the time in the world. It was mid-afternoon, and he had sent his team home. Given them the following day off, in fact, providing Cuddy didn't come up with another case.
The patient had been a man in his thirties who'd arrived suffering from systemic muscle pain accompanied by bloodshot eyes. Foreman and he had argued back an forth on autoimmune and staphylococcal toxic shock syndrome respectively, until the fellow happened to mention to Thirteen that he had taken his wife up to the cabin.
Thirteen had at first assumed a cabin in the woods. House had pointed out that "Woods or no woods, no target rash and no tick means it's not Lyme disease."
"The target rash doesn't show up on everyone." Taub pointed out.
"But in ninety-nine percent of cases it does." House replied.
"Maybe the rash is in a place no one would think to look." Thirteen said, subtly reminding House of the case she had solved by shaving a boys head, and locating the rash.
Reminding her in return - "This guy is bald." House answered.
Where-after quiet little Taub had spoken up. "But I'll bet he's not bald everywhere."
A second physical examination of the man had revealed an infected rash on the underside of his penis that was spreading around its base and up to the crease between his abdomen and the roll of sagging stomach fat.
Doxycycline had been duly introduced into the patient's IV, but House had still been left with lingering doubts. Until the patient himself bored House for a few moments with talk of he and his wife's cabin trip. "She loves walking on the beach."
House had sighed heavily, dying to leave. "Where is this cabin of yours and your darling wife's?"
"Corsica."
"France??" House had managed to maintain enough control of his temper not to cuff the guy upside the head. And not to spout at Thirteen over what an idiot she was. All he said to her was - "Next time someone talks about their vacation spot, make sure you know which continent it's on. He doesn't have Lyme Disease, he has Sandfly fever."
"We're already treating him for Lyme Disease..." Foreman said.
"I know, and the Doxycycline won't hurt him any. Let the bag run out. If his crotch is clearing up by morning rounds, then we know for sure it's not Lyme Disease because it doesn't respond that fast." They sent the patient home with a few Tylenol and a follow-up appointment with his regular physician.
Case solved.
-
-
Wilson was very concerned about the lack of response from Yolanda. It was possible she might have been destroyed. That would be nice, but he doubted it. No vampires had shown up.
And, an hour after House had called to say he was on his way home, House hadn't shown up either. It was daylight. House was safe. He had probably stopped to pick up beer or one of his disgusting pepperoni and mushroom pizza's.
Beer; barley grain spiked with hops and sugar, boiled and cooled, then left to "ferment". Pizza: Slices of preserved, heavily spiced cow flank, and fungi grown in cow shit, slapped on round dough, covered in white strings of gooey milk product - essentially living bacteria (at least until the oven baked them to death). Humans really had a thing for rotting bacteria. It was difficult to imagine he had ever consumed anything so grotesque.
He tried House's cellular. There was no answer but House's voice saying: "Don't leave a message - I won't call you back anyway."
He replaced the hand-held on its small charger. Wilson had gone on a good Feed two nights ago so he was set for the week. About the only human food he could still consume and actually enjoy was strawberry herb tea, and he set water on to boil.
Truth was, he was bored. Vampire life seemed to be plagued with many of the same conundrums as human life was, such as: what do you do when you're home alone and missing the one you love? Television was a poor substitute for human contact, or vampire for that matter.
House was late, but Wilson could relax knowing that as long as it was daylight, he was safe. There wasn't a vampire on the planet who would venture out under the sun and risk crisping his skin until he was repulsive. Vampires are, for the most part, terribly vain creatures. James laughed at himself. Among their ilk, Wilson the human had fit right in.
Sunshine, the bane of all toothy varmints, but loved by humans the world over.
Wilson stared at the blue-orange flame wiggling its fingers out from beneath the kettle's blackened bottom rim, and licking back streaks up the polished curve of metal. Yes, the sun was adored by the living but, he was suddenly horrified to remember, the second-to-dead could also bask under it's harmful rays without it raising nary a mark on their white, paper-thin skin.
Renfelds. Auxiliators. Human youths pressed into a vampire's service through mind control and weakened condition. Renfelds were a vampire's human minions. Powerful vamp's often had more than one. Auxiliators; living, walking, talking snacks. Repeatedly bitten and drank from by their masters or their masters followers. Renfelds could go out in the day and Yolanda, as the so-called queen, probably had a small army of them.
Wilson looked at the window with frightened eyes that understood as clearly as a sunburst; that comprehended like no other that House was not safe. Wilson could tell by the pink streaming in between the blinds that, though the sun was setting, it hadn't yet done so all the way. He had no choice but to wait. Wilson cursed himself, trying House's cell again and getting the same recording. "House, call me the second you get this. Stay at work until I get there. Don't go anywhere with anyone! Even if you think you know them. Call me!"
Wilson returned to the living room window, peeking through to see that the sun was half way gone. There was still too much of it. He shook for House, the fear he felt, not for himself, but for his cherished human, was a private quake.
He peeked through again. Still just a little too much painful light. He didn't care if he got singed, but too bad of a burn would make it impossible for him to ever venture out again. As quickly and as thoroughly as vampire skin repaired itself from other injuries, it was even more vulnerable than a human's, and burns from the yellow sun left permanent and ugly scars.
But even the fading pink, cooler light would reveal him for who he was - he would not be able to fly and remain anonymous, and therefore an invisible domesticated, urban vamp'. James liked this life he had made, and was happy that he had made that life with House. And of course he loved House.
Wilson waited as long as he could stand it. "Fuck it!" He threw on his long coat and flung the door open, not bothering to lock it behind him. Keeping as much to the shadows of the buildings as he could, James breathed a sigh of relief as the last curve of the star dipped below the horizon of hills and dirty, smoke-belching buildings of the downtown.
Flying above the roof-tops as quickly and as recklessly as he dared, he made it to Princeton hospital in only minutes.
Taking his entrance by way of House's office balcony, he found the office empty. The team had gone home. So where was House? Wilson could not afford to search the entire hospital. There were far too many people he could run into who not only would recognize him, but would delay his efforts with stale greetings and numbing chatter about their humans lives; which he cared not a dusted vamp' about.
James dialed House's cell phone again and he heard a faint ringing. Following it to its source, it was coming from beneath the desk. James picked it up. House's cell phone, abandoned. House was gone. He could guess where.
Instead of rising to his challenge and coming to America, Yolanda was seeing to it that he would have to come to her.
Wilson dropped the phone and disappeared into the air above Princeton. It would take him several hours of flying, stopping to Feed, then flying again, to reach the self-appointed Queen's hill-top home above the lights and bustle of Copenhagen.
Yolanda had taken his love. If she so much as pulled a single hair from his head...but it was a bold move on her part, as she was not ignorant to his power. James promised himself that taking House was a decision she would not survive to regret. Not even as one of the un-dead.
-
-
"Yolanda!" James shouted as he set down through the open, masonry-framed window of her mansion. It was an abandoned, tumbled down place, built to bear the resemblance to a mansion. There it was failing miserably.
"Where is he?" James wandered the empty halls. He knew House was near-by, he could feel him, he was alive. "Are you going to hide all night?" James shouted at the top of his voice. It echoed over and over and over.
That was probably one of the reasons she annexed the empty mausoleum in the first place. It looked scary and sounded frightening - to a human.
Not to a vampire. To a vampire it was empty stone and pointless noise.
From the shadows Yolanda appeared surrounded by two dozen of her strongest, most debased servants. "How good of you to come, James." She glided across the floor, dressed in her torn flowing chiffon gown, her blonde hair streaked with black and silver.
James was amused. "You look ridiculous." He chuckled. "Have you been watching Munster re-runs again?"
Yolanda smiled. "I confess I do have a weakness for the artifice of our species. Very effective guise for my less credulous human Feeds." She floated to and sat down on an ornate chair that two of her servants pulled up for her from a curtained alcove. The once rich velvet of its cushion was stained and torn with age and ill-use. When the curtain swished back and forth before settling, James made out a collection of broken furniture and thick collections of rolling dust balls. Here, everything was cracked, and old. Used up. Pathetic. Much like Yolanda herself.
Still, she had power and control over dozens, perhaps thousands. And though no one would ever have called her beautiful, she still carried an air of breeding about her.
Most of that, Wilson knew, was the effect of atmosphere. From her scary house on a dark hill, surrounded as she was by filthy, crazed vampires with nothing more imaginative on their minds than Feeding and scraping before her for all eternity, it was a role. Yolanda played the part rather well.
"What do you want?" He asked. He cut to the chase, hoping to sidestep the elaborate mazes of the so-called fun many vampires manufactured in situations like these.
"Why, what you wanted - a challenge, but with an alteration of my own making." She waved a hand and House was brought out, limping. He was sans cane and his head bagged with his own tee-shirt. His naked torso shivered in the cold. "I know you don't want to be leader of the vampires, James, and his will be so much more enjoyable anyway."
House was forced to his knees. Wilson swallowed any fear. That was the worst thing among vampires - show fear and you are as good as disowned. Yolanda would set her slaves upon him and they would greedily snack on vampire blood. And then human. "What alteration?"
"You love him. The rumors have reached everywhere, you know. A vampire who not only lives with his food, but loves it, too. It's barbaric, James. It's perverse. What do you see in this weak creature who is good for nothing but a single meal?"
"More than you could ever see. What is your alteration?"
"So you do love him, yes? We are here to find out if he loves you. Will he be able to tell, blindfolded, which vampire is his love and which vampire is his destroyer?"
James had worried that it might be something like that. Loving a human being was heavily frowned upon. Forbidden, in fact, by most respectable vamp's. "Humans do not have that ability. He could not find me that way, so your alteration is invalid."
"To quote a human poet," Yolanda sneered, "Love consists in this, that two solitudes protect and touch and greet each other."
"That's talking about feelings in the heart, it has nothing to do wi-"
"-Love is energy of life!" She shouted. "Love prefers twilight to daylight!" She said again at the top of her lungs. "Isn't that right, human!?" She reached across the room in an instant of time and slapped House on the side of his head. He fell over but was hauled to his knees again by cold, dead hands.
Yolanda had not moved from her chair. "You love the dark, human? You love the twilight?"
Addressing the whole room again - "Love built on beauty, soon as beauty, dies." She said, repeating words she could not possibly understand. "Is that correct, Food?" She directly spoke to House again but with the contemptible word of his sole substance in her eyes. "Does James love you only for your warm blood and red flushed skin? Such things to us are the bowls of life. They are our lusts and served upon our dinner table.
"He only dreams of your soul, human. James dreams of yours because he wants his own back. But he can't have it. Dead things cannot contain life, and vampires can only contain the memories of the blood they have eaten. And so James feeds on the visions your soul secrets away. He is Feeding on your life, Food, only he is too weak to drain it properly."
James willed House to remain quiet. To say not a word, not a overly loud breath that she might desire it for the blood in which it lived, and rip his throat out. House remained still. James wondered if he had managed to project his thoughts onto his lover's mind. Perhaps love is energy. Perhaps, in their case, it would respond to the twilight more than to the sun. If so, perhaps his ownership of it was not hopeless after all. Maybe they would live passed this night.
Yolanda had tired of her game, and of the human who had not spoken back. "This vampire does not love you, human." She sighed, wearying of the events. Vampires, their games woven in and out in webs, were eternal creatures and bored very easily. "Twenty-four of my vampires shall stand in a wide circle. You, James, will stand with them. If your human can sense which one of you is the vampire that loves him, and that he loves, you are both free to go. No one will bother you anymore."
James knew better than to believe her. But he could not take on two dozen agents and Yolanda as well. "How do I know you will keep your word?"
"I'm the Queen." As though her nothing words contained everything.
James had no choice but to allow the test. "What happens to House if he fails?"
"Then the choice is yours. Your life or his. If you chose his life, you let him go forever and disappear. You never touch him again. If you choose your life, you must Feed on him, and prove your selfish worth, as all worthy vampires eventually do." Yolanda yawned. "Love is my religion - I could die for it." She smiled widely. "Choose well, James. That life you live wasn't cheap."
James did not like those choices, not that he had any other obvious options. "Then I agree."
The vampires circled House, who was thrust to the center of the ring and pushed to his backside. His arms were wrenched almost from their sockets and tied behind him, the bonds tightened so that he yelped. The vampiress who had made the knots delighted in the pain she had caused. "You smell delicious." She said to him, though loudly enough for the human-loving traitorous vampire to hear.
Such rage it elicited in James. You'll die second. He was gnawing to pinch her head off between his fingers. He would do it gradually, reveling in every pop and snap of bone and sinew. Anticipating the colorful flow from what would soon be her real and complete death, it fired the power in him, making him taut in his intent and ready to explode in his planned vengeance.
"Thank you." He said to her, and she stared back in confusion, then covering her discomfort with the baseless giggle of the ignorant.
The vampires fanned out, making the circle larger, spacing themselves, swaying in hungry anticipation; a macabre dance. How they loved their games. Since love or a real feeling could not dwell within the un-dead, amusement fit just as well.
James watched House sit there, turning his blind-folded eyes this way and that. Nothing moved but the lone human and the curtains teased by the open windows. James willed every fibre of his being to send the thought to House's mind. "I'm here. To your left...to your left! I'm right here. Over here, House. Please...baby, come over here..."
If he could have felt despair, James would have when House at first turned his head to the right. But then, his head snapped back around.
James was elated. Yes. He's hearing me! He see's my voice and knows to come to me. This way, sweetness, this way!
House, wriggled himself to his knees, and managed an awkward stump-walk over to where James stood as silent as still as the others. Even now, House limped on his one bad leg. But that didn't matter - he had chosen correctly!
James said to Yolanda, the Queen of the losing side, his tone defiance, his manner triumphant. "He has chosen correctly, Yolanda. According to your word, we are free to go."
Her face twisted in fury and hate. "You'll go no where as long as I'm alive." She waved her ugly arms to her ready horde who had surrounded them both. "KILL THEM!"
James had expected nothing less than betrayal from her. But if they were going to die, she would be the first to taste it. Using all his power and that of Judith and every vampire or human he had ever taken in, James leaped across the room and took Yolanda down with a single swipe of his hand. His nails raked across her skin, leaving tracks that faded as soon as they had marked.
But he was not finished. Yolanda, if not killed in the next instant, would quickly overpower him. James ripped opened her throat, tearing her jugular, then tossed her bleeding-out form to the minions who had been steadily crowding in on House. Still tied up and helpless, there was no where for him to run, if he could even have done so blindfolded and crippled.
None of them had even seen the traitor vampire move until it was all over and their leader was a corpse for the second time. "Here!" James shouted to them, they turning to his voice. "Don't you want the power of your queen!?"
Her fickle, greedy followers immediately set upon her, ripping her limb from limb, sucking up whatever each of them could swallow from her ancient and legendary powers, leaving only two night-crawlers who remained still focused on a human Feed. One of them was the female vamp' who had mocked House's pain - and so his own as well.
James killed them both with a snap of his wrists, their heads, hers then his, falling away and their bodies disintegrating in a gray puff of formless powder. Grit for the scratched marble floor. Sightless feet would walk on them, unaware, uncaring.
Without a second look at the Feed frenzy, James scooped House up over his shoulder and disappeared through the window, calling out for them to hear - "LOVE SEEKETH NOT ITSELF TO PLEASE, NOR FOR ITSELF HATH ANY CARE, BUT FOR ANOTHER GIVES ITS EASE, AND BUILDS A HEAVEN IN HELL'S DESPAIR!!"*
A battle cry. The winning trumpets. The beating drum. The cheer of victory. The sacredness of life preserved so it could be cherished one more day. James mused as he flew through the fine night air that he was glad Wilson was such a sap when it came to poetry. That one had suited rather well, he thought. House was warm over his shoulder. Forever he, James, would also be warm, as long as he could feel the skin of this man cradling his own. Each had risked their life for the other. If that wasn't love...
Suddenly James didn't feel so un-dead after all. Perhaps there were no un-dead - not really. Perhaps there were only the un-loving.
Once back home, Wilson put an unconscious House to bed, and then ensured all windows and doors were securely locked. Probably there was no need anymore. Now that he had slaughtered Yolanda, his reputation was solidified. He was more powerful than even their reputed queen had been. Wilson knew it wasn't true, of course. James hadn't been stronger, just smarter. But in any world, power was more politics than battles fought. And because power was also an illusion, the other vampires would leave them alone now.
House stirred and entered the living room. Wilson made sure he had coffee ready - the disgustingly bitter stuff - and after adding cream and sugar, House drank it gratefully.
James was proud of his tough, fragile, marvelous human. Wilson was proud, too, and asked him - "How did you know where to turn? I was sending you my thoughts, hoping...did you really hear me, I mean the James me, in your mind?"
House turned his head to look at his friend. Yes, he did love this man-like thing. More man that like; enough that it didn't make any difference anymore. And the other, the vampire one - James, a frightening creature, but still a creature. Not a demon, not a god from hell. House was still undecided which one was more exciting. But he now knew he wanted both. Whether that was love by proximity, drug or blood, he didn't care. He loved Wilson. He loved James.
How lucky can one human get? "I didn't."
Wilson frowned. "Then how...?" It would have been impossible.
"None of the other vampires were wearing Gucci aftershave."
Wilson stared in shock. Simple deduction by a brilliant human diagnostician. Only humans would have noticed such an odor. No vampire sought to distinguish one smell from another save for the blood of their meals. Wilson dared to thank god he had been wearing it. In fact, ever since becoming a vampire and having to cope with the musty smell of his own deadness, he had been using double the morning splash.
Wilson laughed uproariously at House's simple solution, throwing back his head then, when he had recovered himself, leaned in and kissed House on the lips, House allowing it. In fact, to Wilson's shock and delight, he kissed back.
Wilson let go of the lips he had been dreaming about for years and backed off to see his love's - his lover's - face. "Is this all right?"
House shrugged. "Well, it'd be more comfortable in the bedroom, but if you want to stay here on the nice, hard couch, I'm okay with tha-"
Wilson snatched him up and they were lying on the bedroom mattress in seconds flat. House didn't know he had even been moved until he felt the springy thing beneath him and Wilson's cool body draped over him from head to toe.
"Neat trick." House said. "Don't do it again, though, or your cut off."
Wilson grinned like a fool. "Deal." Then resumed his exploration of House's lips and mouth. Removing their clothes at a more controlled pace, he plunged House's willing body with his own, and it occurred to him that rarely, but wonderfully, vampire dreams came true. Maybe it was because he had clung to the remnants of life through his unfathomable love for this human. Maybe because this human had clung to him.
Perhaps that had confused the gods enough to leave them be.
Whatever. Wilson raked his body up against House's, both their cocks hard and taking of the friction of each other, building toward something neither of them had ever before known in the other. House warmed him, and he cooled House. Life or death, hot or cold, together a balm for the soul and the absent-of-soul. Wilson reasoned; not life but what life was made of. This was new. Something here was being born.
James fucked, kissed and licked his lover in the darkness. He agreed.
For either soul, the dark wasn't so bad after all.
<><><><><><>
END
We are such stuff
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
W. Shakespeare.
<><><><><>
The poets Yolanda quotes are, in order:
Rainer Maria Rilke
Robert Browning
Oliver Wendell Holmes
John Donne
John Keats
James quotes William Blake.
and
The final poem snippet is from W. Shakespeare's The Tempest (Prospero)
Go here: http://www.btool.net/host2/userimage/200911/25/20091125173843_87dc79d3dc83223baabcd6a97fa566d7.jpg
to see zer03908's marvelous art of Vampire Wilson sucking throat with House!
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no subject
Date: 2009-12-08 06:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-08 06:49 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-08 06:56 pm (UTC)Sorry
Date: 2009-12-08 06:57 pm (UTC)Done!
Re: Sorry
Date: 2009-12-08 07:01 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-08 09:12 pm (UTC)For Part IV, it's easiest if you go here:
Date: 2009-12-09 02:43 am (UTC):^)
Genie
Re: For Part IV, it's easiest if you go here:
Date: 2010-07-25 12:33 am (UTC)I very much enjoyed vampire Wilson. And House was very much his normal self, so that was good as well. Thanks for writing this intriguing AU.
no subject
Date: 2009-12-08 10:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-12-09 03:40 am (UTC)I loved it though you made me never want to eat pizza again. :P XDDDD
no subject
Date: 2009-12-09 05:52 pm (UTC)Leave it to you to tackle the most delicate subjects in a way that pulls me in and doesn't let go.
Great job!