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  Alone Again 
 by Xander  

 Title: Alone Again Author: Xander (Aeolian Angel) Rating: PG Pairing:
Wilson/House Categories: Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort Spoilers: None
Warnings: Angst, Definite OOC-ness, Pre-Slash, Slash ... Shortness
Summary: House is alone when he needs Wilson the most. A/N: Damn it all to
hell! WHY do my stories always appear horribly disfigured??? TOT

...And can this possibly be another drabble?

By the way, it takes place during "Merry Little Christmas" when Wilson
leaves. That was so sad! D:

Uh, lastly, just please for give my lack of creativeness in the title. 

"Please ... don't leave me Jimmy.... I'm afraid to be without you.... I
... I need ... you...." The confession shattered the stillness that hung
in the air around the broken man, and House's eyes filled to the brim with
the pained evidence that his heart was breaking all over again. He felt
the darkness that once just shrouded him completely engulf everything, and
he gasped for air that his lungs couldn't seem to take in. "Jimmy...." his
voice wavered and died in the air before him as the familiar heaviness he
carried around in his stomach began to feel more like acid biting away at
his insides. A tightness in his chest was hindering his breathing in an
unnatural way, and he twisted against the hard, wooden floors that his
body had collapsed upon. His first instinct as a doctor was to attempt to
diagnose himself. He didn't have to. This was a place he'd hoped never to
revisit, but the first encounter with it was still fresh in his mind.
Stacy.... He'd always expected her to leave ... but not once did he
imagine she would be betray him. It was Wilson who had been his anchor.
James was always there no matter how difficult things became. He never
cried. House never cried. They tried to avoid sensitive subjects, but when
one came around, there was always the unspoken promise that if House did
break down, Jimmy would be there. That was what held House together all
these years.

...It was gone now--when he needed it the most, it wasn't there. James
wasn't there.

A devastating sense of aloneness overwhelmed House, and he gripped the
bottom of his shirt tightly, needing to find some kind of anchor now that
his best friend was gone, and that thought caused him to rip and twist at
the hem of the material in his grasp. He was sure his heart would burst
under the emotional strain, and he gritted his teeth, curling his fingers
in his hair until, finally, a heart-wrenching sob was torn from his
throat, and the tension began to ease, flowing through him and finding
release in the miserable screams and endless stream of hot tears that
were, for the first time in years, freely rolling down his cheeks.

The door softly opened a moment later, and a familiar form cautiously
stepped into the room, peering around and sealing the entrance again just
as soundlessly as it had been opened. The disturbance went unnoticed by
House as a sorrowful wail echoed through the room the same time that Jimmy
came in, and said brunette was wearing a look of absolute shame. He
crossed the room and wordlessly kneeled down next to his friend, gathering
him up in his arms and holding him close. House started at the touch and
his eyes darted to the figure next to him before they were shadowed with
realization, and his arms snaked around Jimmy's neck clinging to him in
terror. "Don't go!" he choked out through his sobs, holding on tighter,
"Don't leave me too!" "Hush...." James whispered, rubbing circles around
House's back, "Don't cry. I'll never leave you...." And if James Wilson
was to break every other promise he had ever made, this was the one he
would hold true on.

"I need you...." House whispered, a calmness beginning to take the place
of the pain he was feeling, and Wilson smiled dismally, running his
fingers through the fine strands of House's hair. "I'm here." He readily
lifted the older man up off the floor and carried him into the bedroom.
The sheets against House's skin were a welcome change after the cold,
unforgiving hardwood of his living room, and he sank into them sleepily,
smiling as he felt Wilson tuck him in.

"Will you stay the night?" House asked hesitantly, reaching out to lightly
grasp the cotton sleeve of Wilson's dress shirt he always wore to work.
The younger of the two answered without a second thought, "Of course, I
will," and he knew he should've been concerned about not going home to
Julie, but the fact was, she had always been second in his life...

...because House would always come first.  
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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
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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.