And The Roads That Lead Us There
by Keyla Sheppard
Wilson realized when he walked around the parking garage for the second time that he had not, in fact, driven to work today. He had instead opted for a taxi because even though he had to pay them for something he could have done himself, when he left that morning he thought it better then finding a nice lamppost to wrap Julie's 'I spent tons of your money on this' car. Not because Julie would be mad at him but because he'd rather not be killed in the process.
After walking past the guard building, which was nothing more than a toll booth sized room with a sweaty, overly nice guy sitting in a chair reading a magazine, he turned right and started walking down the almost deserted street.
He had too much on his mind at the time to think about calling a cab, and even if he had called a cab he didn't know where he was going to go, Julie didn't want him home and House was still working when he had walked out of the hospital an hour ago.
Julie, he knew, was as close as it got to being divorced without signing the papers yet. He was glad that she hadn't thrown his stuff out the window but that was about all. They hadn't actually just sat down and talked for over a month, which he didn't mind at all and if that didn't tell him something he wasn't James Wilson. By experience James Wilson knew all too well how a marriage ended. Sure, all of them ended differently but they all went by an... outline.
Wilson smiled at this, breaking up a marriage 101. He could tell you anything. This latest one helping only a little to prove the point. He knew Julie wasn't like his first wife, she had been the one to throw all his belongings out the window, followed by the divorce papers, or like his second who had locked him out of his own house and wouldn't let him inside until he signed the papers saying she was getting the house, most of the stuff and alimony. Julie was different and, Wilson liked to think, it was because of that, that they had stayed together so long, and that Wilson hadn't cheated on her... at least not with another woman. That had to count for something... right?
Then he thought about all the others.
Erica, tossing the things out of the window had been a week after she found out he had slept with another woman. Their marriage had been great, wonderful even. He liked it, liked going home to someone, to food on the table and a smile on her face. He loved her smile; he had never seen her cry the whole time he had known her, not even when she was yelling at him through the open window. There had been no tears on her face then, only anger in her eyes. She had been a really nice girl, he'd known her for a while, had been dating for over a month before they spent the night together. He thought it had been love, but it hadn't been. He had cheated on her with a nurse. She had been sexy and very flirty. Legs that went all the way up to her tight ass, hips that swayed just the right way when she walked, her stomach was flat, her hands just oh so perfect. Her blonde hair went down to her shoulders and seemed to float on air, her lips just made him want to lean forward and kiss them before he even said hi and her eyes were just on this side of green. She had been perfect. Now, Wilson couldn't even remember her name.
Jenn was a different story. She had found out about him sleeping around from a college. He had slept with him and he had felt he needed to tell his wife. She hadn't been too mad about that, Jenn had always been open to Wilson being bi and knew that she couldn't give him what he needed with a man. She even told him that if he needed to be with a man she would be okay with that, just be open with her. But then she had heard that he had spent the night with a doctor, a woman doctor, and that day she had changed the locks on him. He had gone home thinking that everything was just fine and found out that his keys didn't work. He had knocked on the door and she had only yelled through it 'go to your new girls house, I don't want you here anymore' and he and driven back to the hospital because he didn't even remember the girls number. Jenn had been great; he remembered their first date had been to a club, then a movie and back to his place. He didn't remember Erica's first date, or the way she had proposed to her. Jenn was different and he had blown it.
Wilson had never told Julie he was bi; she had made it pretty clear she wasn't as open as his previous wives, or his friends for that matter. So he never said anything about it. He figured that if she didn't know he liked men as much as women she would be less worried about him cheating. His life with Julie was entirely different from the first two. He had loved them, or thought he loved them enough to spend the rest of his life with them. He had been wrong in the end though. Julie, he had asked her to marry him after only a month of dating and if it hadn't been for House telling him to get a prenuptial agreement he'd be loosing all his things... again. Wilson couldn't remember how he met Julie, though if he decided to ask House he'd know, he knew a lot. He didn't remember how he proposed to her, when their first date was, what her parent's names were and whether or not they were still alive. He almost knew nothing about her, because of this he felt guilty, he didn't look at other women, except for that one but he hadn't slept with her.
Wilson knew months before they stopped talking that their marriage was going to disappear, just like his others. He had walked to House's place and hung out with him all night. It was that night that he had cheated on his wife. It was a Friday, they had just finished watching a James Bond movie, there was Chinese on the coffee table, a few empty beer bottles and nothing would have happened if House hadn't gotten up and played the most haunting melody that Wilson had ever heard. He felt so pissed that Julie didn't tell him what she was doing, was guilty for not asking, and felt bad for knowing that their marriage was a bust and not carrying that after that song was over he had followed House into his bedroom instead of staying on the couch and pushed him on the bed. He had cheated that night and the next morning he hadn't hurried to get out of there and back to Julie.
He knew more about House then he knew about any of his ex-wives, all of them ex's now, Julie had sent the papers that morning. He knew his favorite food, what his parents names were, what they were like, he'd invited House to dinner at his parents place. He knew his favorite television show, his phone number by heart, his address so much better, knew the deep dark secrets that were House and knew without a doubt why Stacy hadn't stayed. He had been there with him through his infarction and for the physical therapy afterwards. Wilson had been the one to run down to the PT room when he got a call saying House was throwing things around the place again. He had been the one to run out and get House some Chinese food when he would refuse to eat the hospital's food. He'd even lent the man five thousand dollars without even asking when he was going to get it back. He was just so trusting of House.
He turned to the voice, not really knowing where it was coming from but as soon as his eyes hit House sitting on his bike just ahead he smiled.
"Hey, thought you'd be out on the dirt roads by now."
"Yeah, I would be if my best friend wasn't sulking all day over something he had no control over."
"I was not sulking... I was..."
House cut him off.
"Yes, sulking over loosing Julie, over loosing your other wives and over your life in general. I know when you sulk Jimmy, and you're sulking. You need some time on the open road, to get drunk, eat bad food and watch worse movies."
"I'm not getting on that thing."
Wilson's face showed a look of total revulsion and some anticipation. The second one House didn't miss.
"I know you want too... and afterward we can 'watch old movies and cry'... I think that's how you put it."
House smiled and dug in the bag on the back before pulling out an extra helmet and holding out to Wilson.
"I need to sign some papers."
"Tomorrow. Tonight I'm going to get you drunk."
Wilson sighed, defeated, stuck his bag into the now empty one on the bike, slid on the helmet and climbed in behind House. He wrapped his arms around House's waist and set his chin on his shoulder.
With a little smirk on his face, House pulled out of the spot at the side of the road and headed out for a dirt road. Soon they were racing down a dirt road, grass on every side and if House had looked back and seen Wilson's tears, Wilson would only blame them on the wind in his face.
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of Fox Television, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.