Wilson hissed quietly to himself, watching House limp through the hallway. He'd resented that man for every single pain he'd inflicted people through, just to find answers for questions that nobody wanted to ask about.
House was surely a drag, his harsh demeanor was not to be appreciated after such a harsh, cruel night. The mans cane clicked in repetitive motions, up and down on the bland, dulled flooring.
"Wilson, buddy!" House hissed, his tone clearly condescending with belittlement. "How's my favorite doctor?" The smirk on Houses face told otherwise, as he'd chosen to ignore Wilsons sunglasses that he'd been wearing INSIDE.
"I'm busy, here, House." Wilson hissed back at him, tossing a paper into the recycling bin. The man had always been big on taking care of his office, while still helping out the environment the best he could. Recycling was free, and fun.
"Sure, if you wanna burn in Hell. Don't lie to me, Wilson!" He quipped, causing anger to boil in the poor mans. House was just like his wife; annoying, and manipulative.
Fiery hatred running heavily through Wilsons chest, he'd torn off the sunglasses covering a bruised eye, watching House's eyes widen before squinting, checking for puffiness before pulling back.
"...Well, damn, Jimmy.." House whispered, his heart aching with pity for the, although slightly, surely shorter of the two. "..I think it would do good for me to grab you an ice-pack."
"Yeah, I'd like that."
YOU ARE READING
his last wife - a hilson fanfic
Fanfica sad, angsty fanfiction about two old gay men; mainly wilson being tormented tw; suicide mentions, abuse, domestic violence, alcoholic tendencies, drug usage, and self harm descriptions. read at your own advisery
