The House Fan Fiction Archive

 

Five Times Wilson came back


by lilyleia78


Five times Wilson came back.

1. "Dr. Wilson!" The happy call came from the pretty nurse making her way quickly towards him. "It's so good to have you back. How was your vacation? Have a good time?"

Wilson forced a smile, covering his irritation with the question. It wasn't her fault that she was the four millionth person to ask the same damn thing. "Yes, thank you. I had a great time."

"Well, then let's get you back to work. Playtime is officially over," she teased gently.

Wilson grinned back, but his heart wasn't in it. He had no idea what was wrong with him. It was a good vacation, he did have a good time, but repeatedly telling people so was only serving as a reminder that something had been...off the whole trip. He'd felt restless and vaguely out of sorts since he left.

"Wilson!" a familiar voice bellowed down the hall. "Back from paradise, I see. Good, get your lazy ass over here; I need an oncologist who's not a complete moron."

It wasn't until hours later, with the latest mystery solved and Wilson ensconced in his makeshift bed on House's couch that he realized the uncomfortable feeling had disappeared completely at the sound of his friend's voice. "Well, crap," Wilson complained to the empty room.

It looked like his `little crush' on his best friend wasn't going away anytime soon.

2. When Stacy finally called with news about House's infarction, Wilson started packing before she could even give him the details. The woman on the bed watched quietly, sympathy silencing her disappointment.

Wilson had a feeling that the sadness in her eyes wasn't for House. He knew that cutting the vacation short also meant cutting this relationship short, but the knowledge didn't give him pause. If he took the time to weigh having a happy, healthy relationship against House, it was no contest at all. House needed him, and that's all that had ever mattered.

3. Wilson pushed open the door wearily, bracing himself for round two of the argument that had forced him out into the night four hours earlier.

"What are you doing here?" House's voice contained none of the expected venom; he sounded surprised, maybe even a little wary. It was enough to stop Wilson cold, earlier anger forgotten.

"I live here," he answered cautiously.

"Still?" House asked quietly, as if there was some doubt.

"Unless you're kicking me out," Wilson kept his tone light, making the statement a joke, but his heart leapt into his throat. It was just a fight, a stupid one at that. They'd had worse before they'd become...whatever it was they had become; surely House wasn't giving up on them so easily.

The disdain in House's answer was reassuring. "Of course not. It's just," the older man paused, obviously embarrassed by his next words, "you left me."

Wilson couldn't help it; he laughed out loud. The kicked puppy dog look was his thing, but it looked adorable on House. "We had a fight. I took off to cool down; I'd hardly call that leaving you." House smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. Wilson softened his voice and moved to stand behind the couch, just over House's shoulder, "Hey, I'll always come back."

House scoffed. "That's because you're a glutton for punishment."

"True," Wilson agreed easily. "And if I always came back before, I'm definitely always coming back now that I get fringe benefits." He leaned down to demonstrate, placing a kiss on the side of House's neck. House turned and made it a real kiss, desperation and relief making it intense, more passionate than Wilson had intended. "See, now I don't even remember what we were fighting about," Wilson told him breathlessly when they pulled apart.

House flashed him the smile that had been known to scare puppies and small children. "I could remind you."

Wilson slapped the back of his head. "How about you shut up before I decide to withhold your fringe benefits?"

4. "I knew you'd come crawling back to me," House crowed triumphantly the moment Wilson set his bags down in the bedroom.

"It was a conference, House. Stop with the jilted lover act." Wilson sighed on principal, but inside he was beaming; nothing told him he was truly home like the sounds of House giving him a hard time.

"Act? What act? You left me! For a week! I could have wasted away from starvation, died of exposure, landed in the hospital with hooker induced exhaustion."

"So, sorry," Wilson said with faux sincerity. "Whatever was I thinking? Next time you'll just have to come to the conference with me."

House scowled. "Threats are not the way to convince me to take you back."

5. Wilson was grinning before he even got the door open. It was becoming something of a ritual for House to greet him after a long absence with accusations of abandonment, and he couldn't wait to see what his partner came up with this time.

"Honey, I'm home!" he called out brightly as he pushed open the door.

"It's about damn time," House complained from the kitchen. "I ran out of those meals you stuck in the freezer for me ages ago."

"Huh. Either you're eating more or my housewife skills are slipping." Wilson walked into the kitchen and gently poked at House's stomach. "My money's on your appetite."

House glared menacingly. "Just for that, your money's going to be taking care of my appetite tonight."

"You mean if I'd kept my mouth shut you'd be paying?" Wilson asked with skepticism thick in his voice.

"Stop whining. I pay you back in sexual favors." Wilson acknowledged this with a smile and impulsively pulled House into an embrace. House squawked indignantly but gave him a quick, tight hug before stepping back. "I didn't mean right now. Food first," he complained.

"Next Christmas, you're coming home with me," Wilson informed him seriously.

House's eyebrows shot up to his hairline, horror etching itself across his face. "What did I tell you about threats?"

"That they don't work as well as blowjobs," Wilson answered promptly. "But this isn't a threat." House opened his mouth to protest, and Wilson held up a hand to forestall any argument. "As much as I like coming home to you, I like not leaving you more."

And really, how was House supposed to argue with that?

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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 NBC/Universal, 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.