House MD Fanfiction

I'll Pick You Up When You Fall

Hilson, engaged, hurt!House, 1552 words
By: SunshineBeam

It had been a long day. No cases, nothing exciting, just pain, far too much paperwork, and pain. House was counting down the minutes, no, the seconds until he could go home and jut lay down with ice on his thigh. Not to mention he'd knocked his cane over, and couldn't reach it because it hurt to bend down, and he had to pee but couldn't get up.

He groaned, sweating heavily as he held his pen tighter in his hand. He massaged his thigh as much as he could stand to. House squeezed his eyes shut for a long moment, biting back a curse.

"Greg?"

Great. Just what he needed. He slowly opened his eyes, seeing Wilson's worried expression. "Just hand me my cane, Jimmy."

Wilson frowned, bending down to pick up the cane. "What happened?"

"Knocked it over. Gravity happened." He took his cane and painstakingly got to his feet, gritting his teeth.

"You know what I mean."

"Don't worry about it." He couldn't put much weight on his right leg, leaning heavily on his cane.

Wilson moved to stand next to him, placing a hand on his arm. Wordlessly, House gripped him as tight as he could, letting himself be supported as he focused on making it to the bathroom.

It was embarrassing, having to ask Wilson to hold him up, to help him stay standing as he relieved himself, but there wasn't much of a choice by then.

He grunted as they started making their way back to his office, cursing when his leg buckled, nearly sending him to the floor. He let out an embarrassing cry of pain, his grip on Wilson's shirt tightening.

Wilson was fast, moving his arms to support House's weight. House gripped Wilson's shirt as tight as he could, the pain sending sparks of nausea through him. He grit his teeth, putting his weight on his cane, pushing himself to stand. Wordlessly, he was helped back to his desk, sweaty and nauseous.

"I'm this close to getting out my morphine stash," House groaned.

Wilson rubbed his back, trying to offer comfort, and for once, House didn't protest. "Greg..."

"Just.... don't." He rubbed at his thigh, hissing.

Wilson was about to say something, but Foreman pushed the door open. "House, we've got a case."

House grit his teeth, grabbing his cane and forcing himself to stand. "Be there in a minute."

Foreman looked between the two of them, but didn't say a word as he left. House grabbed the front of Wilson's shirt, pressing a firm kiss to his lips. "I'll be home late. Love you Jimmy."

Wilson sighed. "You sure you're up for it?"

"Just say you love me, be sappy, whatever. But the blood's on my hands if mystery patient dies tonight."

Wilson sighed. "Alright. I love you Greg."

House smiled tiredly, limping out of the office.

It wasn't until late that night that Wilson was in bed that he got a phone call. He reached for his phone through the quiet, inky darkness that was usual filled with soft snoring next to him.