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Hopeful Love

Summary:

“You never answered me.”

“Which question?”

“Have you ever loved anybody else?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“That’s a little awkward to answer.”

“Why? It’s just your friend and a dead man.”

“That’s the problem.”

——————————
vegetative state guy(Gabe Wozniak) asks House if he loves anybody else, and he can’t answer it with the man sitting in the same room as him.

based on Season 3 episode 7

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

“You never answered me.” 

 

House breathed in still deep in thought, half listening to the question.

 

“Which question?” He said, barely audible, staring at a spot on the sticky disgusting carpet of the shitty casino hotel. 

 

“Have you ever loved anybody else?”

 

“Yes.” 

 

“Who?” the man stared at House, who didn’t appear particularly vexed or troubled by the question, but closer to contemplative. House stood up and limped to the closed curtains of the windows. 

 

“That’s a little awkward to answer.” House suddenly said, in a pondering tone, as he seemed to be looking outside at nothing but the parking lot view from their hotel room. 

 

“Why? It’s just your friend and a dead man at the end of the day.” 

 

Wilson looked over, now curious as to why he was stalling him when the answer was as simple as saying no. House seemed slightly tense as he slightly shifted on his good leg, the absence of his cane being felt. 

 

“That’s the problem.” He said softly, almost imperceptibly, only heard because of the silence of the slightly sad dingy hotel room, rain pattering on the windows that House was now leaning on. 

 

Everything stopped for way longer than was bearable for Wilson. House and Gabe stared at each other, unblinking; Gabe attempting to figure out if House is lying, and House attempting to school his expression to not give anything away. 

 

“No way.” 

 

“I said that I won’t lie, so. Yes way” House said petulantly, completely in contrast to Wilson’s expression of confusion. 

 

House finally looked at Wilson, with an expression he only saw when House was vulnerable enough to tell Wilson something personal. But this time, he didn’t say a word. He didn’t have to. 

 

“Are you serious?” Wilson finally said with a soft and cracked voice, with disbelief in his voice as well as something akin to hope. 

 

“When did you realize you loved him?” Gabe said, and House for some reason didn’t want to stop him from asking anymore personal questions. 

 

“The day after I had my infarction that crippled me, Wilson snuck into my room with Chinese. He started talking about his wife at the time, patients he had, med students that pissed him off, literally anything but what happened to my leg. I just listened and realized that you know..” House trailed off, completely ignoring Wilson and looking directly into Gabe’s eyes. 

 

Wilson ironically, felt like a fly on the wall in a conversation that was about him. He looked at House, cradling his leg silently and almost petulantly tunnel visioned on Gabe.

 

“Wow. You’re not even lying are you.” Gabe said, with a sly smile on his face, looking between House and Wilson now. 

 

“What do you think about that, Wilson? Discuss.” Gabe said, suddenly somber and walked away to another part of the hotel room and leaned against the window. Now leaving the two men alone on separate couches. 

 

House finally looked up from his burning gaze on the ground to look up at Wilson, ready to see his best friend’s horrified expression. Wilson was instead, looking behind his own shoulder, looking at Gabe in a worried gaze. 

 

Ever the enabler. When his best friend confessed his unrequited love to him, he chooses to put a pin in that to make sure a stranger to him is ok.

 

House continued to appreciate Wilson’s slightly disheveled look of his collared shirt now unbuttoned, his tie abandoned somewhere in the couch, and his shirt untucked. 

 

He always loved seeing Wilson like this. When Wilson and House ate Chinese takeout in the lowlight of House’s messy living room chairs. After work hours, Wilson will silently come into House’s office, and place a bag of takeout onto his side table, sometimes leaving House to work, and sometimes when House was in a bad way, sitting in the chair opposite to his desk chair, keeping him company. It gave him a sense of comfort that he got to see the slightly disheveled and less picture perfect version of Wilson when he was more tired and closer to being himself instead of being who others need from him.  

 

Wilson finally looked back at House, and as House looked back down at the ground, he looked at his best friend through his lashes in a sympathetic and loving gaze. 

 

“Do you want to talk about this right now?” Wilson asked, even giving House the out if he wasn’t comfortable talking about it. 

 

What did I do to deserve him?

 

“Not right now. But I wasn’t lying. Take that as you will and you are welcome to stop the pot that the nurses have on our floor that one of us is into the other by the way.” He said, in a deadpan tone trying to alleviate the depressing mood that was permeating throughout the hotel room, exasperated by the thundering outside.

 

Luckily, Wilson smiled slightly, his sympathetic eyes still completely focused on House’s form. 

 

“I already stopped that pot a while ago, don't worry. I said that it’s an HR violation because I’m bisexual and that classifies as harassment based on my sexuality.” Wilson said very casually, moving to get up before he was stopped with a cane that gently stopped his feet from moving. 

 

“Ok so I’m your best friend and you didn’t tell me that.” 

 

“Didn’t you know about it already?” 

 

“Yes, but there was always the chance that I was being too hopeful that you might feel the same way too, which was obviously too optimistic.” House said smiling, yet defeated, and looked up at Wilson to be met with a confused face. 

 

“What do you mean? Don’t you know? I thought I was the one being obvious.” Wilson said, slightly squinting, slowly realizing that he’s starting to lose House to his usual spiral that he goes on when he’s thinking about the case. He knew that this conversation couldn’t happen right now when Gabe found out his son is dying and he can’t do anything to help him.

 

As Wilson watches House nervously chew on his cuticles and pace around the couch that he’s sat with the uneaten sandwich on the table, he feels a sense of melancholy and dread, suddenly pulled back into the situation that they were in. Being with House always had that effect— nothing else mattered when they were together. 

Wilson then faced straight forward and listened to the silent thundering outside and the sound of House thinking and his cane thumping in circles around the couch. 

Of course I find out he loves me during a case. He thought, and yet, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

 

Notes:

I never make my fics canon compliant so I actually tried to in this one, so the ending is hopeful, but it’s implied that these grandpas are going to talk it out and get together after this ordeal.
I’m working on a bigger fic but was in a bit of a slump so cranked this short out to get back into writing again.