Lomeinie (lomeinie) wrote in houselomein, @ 2009-04-02 22:24:00 |
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-- chapter four
Despite the fact he told Cuddy that upon waking House would mock all of them, Wilson had occupied the long hours of sitting with his comatose former best friend by reading aloud. Cuddy, along with House's staff (current and past), had left quite a collection of medical journals in the room for this purpose. The collection included journals on anything from the strange, rare ailments such as might interest House if he were awake trying to solve one of his medical puzzles, to things he had no interests in like pediatrics and psychiatry.
The idea was to keep House's mind active by keeping it stimulated, even if that stimulation were nothing more than his inane soaps or, in this case, these journals.
Wilson read aloud until his eyes started to water from sheer exhaustion and the words began to blur before him. But even after he had set the journals and silence filled the room, Wilson found he still couldn't talk to House. When he could not stand the silence any longer, Wilson grabbed the remote control and turned on the television. After a bit of channel surfing, Wilson settled on a movie and got as comfortable as the plastic chair would allow.
The next thing Wilson knew, a hand was gently shaking his shoulder and a voice quietly called his name.
Cuddy stood by the chair looking down on Wilson. She straightened up when she saw his eyes open and her voice was soft as she spoke, “Hey, why don't you come to my place and take the guest room while you're here?”
Wilson stretched, rubbing the back of his neck to get the crick out, and he looked over at House before he answered her, “I appreciate the offer, but I called the building manager and arranged for the power and utilities to be turned on so I can stay in the apartment while I'm here.”
Cuddy knew without asking whose apartment he meant and she questioned the wisdom of him staying there for the duration of his visit. Cuddy also knew she couldn't say anything about it. “All right then, but since visiting hours ended some time ago, why don't you go try and get some real rest?”
As if on cue, Wilson found himself having to cover his mouth to hide the yawn that had come on suddenly. “Yeah. . . that's probably a good idea.” He slipped into his jacket. “I'll walk out with you.”
Cuddy nodded. “'Night, House. Come back to us soon.”
“'Night, House.”
They said very little to each other on the trip down to the parking lot and they were silent as they parted company when they reached their cars. Ten minutes later, Wilson sat outside the apartment that became legally his when Amber died and he regretted not taking Cuddy up on her offer. He stayed in his car for some time before he made himself get out and collect his luggage from the trunk.
The walk up the few stairs in front of the building was more difficult than he remembered it being and the simple act of opening the apartment door felt almost impossible, but he made it inside at last. Once there, Wilson realized how much of a mistake coming here had been. Everywhere he looked, Amber's essence surrounded him, enveloped him and it caused his mostly buried grief to break past its barriers and overwhelm him.
When tears filled his eyes Wilson didn't fight to keep them there. He took a seat on the couch and just looked around the room. Except for the dust covers on the furniture, he had left everything pretty much where Amber had left the last time she was here, because to move them even a fraction from their places would be an acknowledgment she was really gone. Even now, six months after her death, he wasn't certain he wasn't ready to believe she was really gone forever.
His eyes continued to look around the room and he was relieved to see the door to the bedroom was still closed. Closing the door was one of the last things Wilson did in the apartment and he was grateful that he did because, at that moment, Wilson knew he couldn't handle dealing with their room. He spent nearly an hour on the couch just letting the grief wash over him as he hadn't done in months – and he remembered how much he had loved Amber.
Afterward, sheer exhaustion and numbness caused Wilson to switch to auto pilot as he pulled out a blanket from the closet to make the couch up into a bed. He hadn't been on the couch for five minutes when he remembered one of the reasons why this couch should not be used as a bed. It was fine for the quiet evenings at home spent cuddling while watching the chick flick romances she had loved, but it felt like a rock when you tried to sleep on it for anything besides a nap.
Forty minutes later, as bone-weary tired as he was; Wilson realized if he spent the night on the couch he wouldn't be getting any sleep at all. He briefly contemplated spending the night on the floor but then he remembered the half night he had spent on it after he discovered he didn't like water beds after all. Amber had come out from the room and had lain with him on the floor for while before she convinced him to go back to bed with her.
Now, sitting up on the couch, he swore he could hear her voice calling out to him. James, why are you out there? He could hear the laughter in her voice. James, I miss you. By the time he thought he heard the bedroom door open Wilson was turning the lock on the front door.
He drove what he thought to be aimlessly for awhile, with the objective to look for an unfamiliar hotel to spend the night and perhaps the week at. However, before he realized where he was going, he had turned down Cuddy's street and parked in front of her house. Even though it was getting a little late, Wilson saw some of the lights were still on in Cuddy's house so he got out and walked up to the door, knocking only after a little hesitation.
A surprised Cuddy opened the door a few seconds later. She saw the evidence of the tears on his face and so she asked, “Wilson, is something wrong?” She was dressed in a night gown and silky robe that she was holding closed with one hand.
“Did I wake you?”
“Oh, no. I was just about to head to bed but I wasn't there yet.”
“Uhm, is the offer of your spare room still open?” he asked, his hand rubbing the back of his neck nervously.
“Of course it is!” she said, allowing the door to open fully. “Come on in.”
“Okay, thank you. I just need to get my stuff from the car.”
“All right, I'll leave the front door open for you. Just be sure to please lock up once you're inside.”
Wilson entered the house a minute later and after taking a second to lock the door as she had asked, he walked down the hall towards the part of the house he knew had her guest room and discovered Cuddy in there tucking clean sheets onto the mattress. He quickly set the suitcase down on the floor and stepped further into the room to halt her. “Here let me do that!” He immediately set about righting the sheets and Cuddy released the corner she was holding.
Stifling a yawn, Cuddy turned back at the door to tell him, “If you need another blanket they're out in the hallway closet.”
“Okay, thanks.”
“Goodnight, Wilson.”
“Goodnight.”