menolly_au (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
menolly_au) wrote2012-02-10 09:33 am
menolly_au) wrote2012-02-10 09:33 am
Entry tags:
Fic : It Can't Be Over
Title: It Can't Be Over
Author: menolly_au
Characters: House/Wilson
Rating: PG
Warnings: Crack, meta, extreme silliness
Spoilers: House has been cancelled ( had you heard?) Contains wild speculation for series end, none of it based on actual truth as far as I know.
Words: 600 ish
Summary:Wilson has heard that the series has been cancelled, he's happy, for a little while... A little crack fic as a reaction to the news.
When House got home Wilson was sitting on the couch, broken leg (tib-fib fracture, car accident) propped up on the coffee table. He was drinking a glass of wine, and from the looks of the bottle sitting open beside him it wasn't the first.
"Hey, House! Come and sit down, we're celebrating!" Wilson raised his glass, peering out of his one good eye, the other was covered by a patch (corneal laceration, low hanging tree branch).
House grinned, a tipsy Wilson was always great value. He took a seat next to him, careful not to touch the bandage on his right arm (burns, hot coffee) and making sure he was next to the ear where Wilson still has some hearing (ruptured ear drum, gas bottle explosion). He took the offered glass from Wilson's fingers, noting that they seemed to be healing well (bruises, car door).
"What are we celebrating?"
Wilson pointed a shaky hand (tremors, traumatic brain injury) at the laptop screen.
"We've been cancelled!"
House looked at him in shock and then looked back at the screen. It was true, there was post after post about it.
"No more Sick!Wilson!" Wilson laughed. "It's over, all the broken bones, the infectious diseases, the fevers, the terminal diseases, the car accidents! All over! At last, I can walk out the door without being struck by lightening, or attacked by a bear, or held hostage by some crazed gunman out for revenge against you."
"But, but..." House protested numbly, looking at the screen. "If you're not sick how am I going to show that I care about you?"
"You want me to look like this all the time?" Wilson asked. "You want me to be covered in bandages and barely able to put one foot after the other? You want me lying naked, feverish in a bed, mumbling incoherently about how much I love you?" He stopped, and looked at House's hopeful expression. "Wait, forget that last one, of course you want that."
House was scanning the screen, reading more of the articles. His eyes widened.
"Wilson? How much of this did you read?"
"Not much. Just the bit where it said C.A.N.C.E.L.E.D - then I got out the wine."
"Well, there's some people here saying that you might die."
Wilson paled, or the bits of him that weren't red did (sunburn, fell asleep on the beach).
"I might d..d..die?" (stuttering, childhood trauma).
"Apparently. Or I might die, or we both might die." House sat back glumly.
"But why would they kill me? Everyone loves me. I'm the favourite." Wilson's lower lip trembled as he wailed. "It's not fair, why don't they kill Adams - nobody likes her. And she's a newbie. I've been here since the beginning!"
"Because if you die it will have the most effect on me. And, you know, the show is all about me . HOUSE M.D - it's in the name. Besides, how are they going to top the ending of last season if no-one dies? Unless the hospital gets invaded by brain eating zombies, or you and I kiss and ride off into the sunset together."
"Well, they're never going to let us kiss," Wilson agreed "it's a prime time show after all, children might be watching." He sighed. "Well, this sucks."
"Yep." House slammed down the laptop lid and stood up.
"House, where are you going?"
"To bed. And you're coming with me."
"I am?"
"Yes, I'm going to comfort you. It may be our last chance."
"Oh," Wilson stood up eagerly, swaying a bit (vertigo, Meniere's disease). He balanced himself on his crutches and went slowly after House.
After all, if he was going to die, he might as well have some fun first.
Until the zombies came anyway.
Author: menolly_au
Characters: House/Wilson
Rating: PG
Warnings: Crack, meta, extreme silliness
Spoilers: House has been cancelled ( had you heard?) Contains wild speculation for series end, none of it based on actual truth as far as I know.
Words: 600 ish
Summary:Wilson has heard that the series has been cancelled, he's happy, for a little while... A little crack fic as a reaction to the news.
When House got home Wilson was sitting on the couch, broken leg (tib-fib fracture, car accident) propped up on the coffee table. He was drinking a glass of wine, and from the looks of the bottle sitting open beside him it wasn't the first.
"Hey, House! Come and sit down, we're celebrating!" Wilson raised his glass, peering out of his one good eye, the other was covered by a patch (corneal laceration, low hanging tree branch).
House grinned, a tipsy Wilson was always great value. He took a seat next to him, careful not to touch the bandage on his right arm (burns, hot coffee) and making sure he was next to the ear where Wilson still has some hearing (ruptured ear drum, gas bottle explosion). He took the offered glass from Wilson's fingers, noting that they seemed to be healing well (bruises, car door).
"What are we celebrating?"
Wilson pointed a shaky hand (tremors, traumatic brain injury) at the laptop screen.
"We've been cancelled!"
House looked at him in shock and then looked back at the screen. It was true, there was post after post about it.
"No more Sick!Wilson!" Wilson laughed. "It's over, all the broken bones, the infectious diseases, the fevers, the terminal diseases, the car accidents! All over! At last, I can walk out the door without being struck by lightening, or attacked by a bear, or held hostage by some crazed gunman out for revenge against you."
"But, but..." House protested numbly, looking at the screen. "If you're not sick how am I going to show that I care about you?"
"You want me to look like this all the time?" Wilson asked. "You want me to be covered in bandages and barely able to put one foot after the other? You want me lying naked, feverish in a bed, mumbling incoherently about how much I love you?" He stopped, and looked at House's hopeful expression. "Wait, forget that last one, of course you want that."
House was scanning the screen, reading more of the articles. His eyes widened.
"Wilson? How much of this did you read?"
"Not much. Just the bit where it said C.A.N.C.E.L.E.D - then I got out the wine."
"Well, there's some people here saying that you might die."
Wilson paled, or the bits of him that weren't red did (sunburn, fell asleep on the beach).
"I might d..d..die?" (stuttering, childhood trauma).
"Apparently. Or I might die, or we both might die." House sat back glumly.
"But why would they kill me? Everyone loves me. I'm the favourite." Wilson's lower lip trembled as he wailed. "It's not fair, why don't they kill Adams - nobody likes her. And she's a newbie. I've been here since the beginning!"
"Because if you die it will have the most effect on me. And, you know, the show is all about me . HOUSE M.D - it's in the name. Besides, how are they going to top the ending of last season if no-one dies? Unless the hospital gets invaded by brain eating zombies, or you and I kiss and ride off into the sunset together."
"Well, they're never going to let us kiss," Wilson agreed "it's a prime time show after all, children might be watching." He sighed. "Well, this sucks."
"Yep." House slammed down the laptop lid and stood up.
"House, where are you going?"
"To bed. And you're coming with me."
"I am?"
"Yes, I'm going to comfort you. It may be our last chance."
"Oh," Wilson stood up eagerly, swaying a bit (vertigo, Meniere's disease). He balanced himself on his crutches and went slowly after House.
After all, if he was going to die, he might as well have some fun first.
Until the zombies came anyway.
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