Fic : All The Ways Duncan Changed His Life
Sep. 1st, 2013 10:17 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
menolly_auTitle: All the Ways Duncan Changed His Life
Characters: House & Wilson, Duncan
Rating: PG
Words: 2700
Wilson's Health StatusWilson still has cancer, but it is detected earlier and treatment is successful.
Summary: What if Duncan was really Wilson's son?
Author's Notes : It's Father's Day here so I thought I'd finish off this story which I've had hanging around for ages. Dedicated to my Dad (although he'll never see it!). Happy Father's Day, Dad.
"I have an eleven-year-old son."
Wilson sat in the diner, waiting for Beth and Duncan to arrive. He stared at the cast on his arm. It had been one week since he dived out of the way of House's car and broke his wrist. Six days since the phone call from Beth that changed everything.
Beth had sent him a photo. Duncan was eleven, had brown hair, brown eyes and a warm smile. He looked happy in the photo. Wilson hoped he'd had a good life with his Mom. He didn't know what he could add to it, his own life felt like it was in ruins. House was gone and Cuddy was leaving Princeton. He was alone.
For a moment he had considered telling Beth to forget it, that the kid would be better off without him. He'd make a lousy Dad. But in the end he'd said yes. This was something Duncan wanted, and that mattered more than what Wilson wanted. And Wilson didn't even know what he wanted.
They walked in together, Duncan staying close to his mother, nervous but curious. Wilson stood up to greet them. When Duncan smiled tentatively and offered him his hand to shake Wilson stared into those familiar eyes and knew that this was his son. He was a father.
In that moment he knew he'd made the right decision. He knew what he wanted.
"What shall I call you?" Duncan asked as they sat down.
"Call me James," Wilson said. "Can I buy you a burger?"
"There are actually things in this world that give life even more meaning than soap operas and monster trucks. And we happen to be missing out on at least one of them."
It wasn't that Wilson hadn't thought about having children - he had. He'd been married three times after all, and he'd always had the vague expectation that there would eventually be children. He'd told himself, many times, that it was just as well, given the divorces, that it never happened. It had been cleaner, easier, that way.
Now, after spending time with Duncan, he realised he had been lying to himself. Duncan had made his life so much more.
For the first couple of visits Beth had accompanied Duncan. Wilson had taken them to the movies and then to a baseball game. Duncan had seemed to have a good time; eating an immense amount of junk food on both occasions. The third time Beth had let Duncan go by himself, just dropping him off and then picking him up again at the end of the day. Wilson found himself looking forward to each visit by his son eagerly.
He set up regular payments for Beth, although she said it wasn't necessary, and started to put away money for Duncan's future.
One weekend Duncan stayed the night at his apartment. They made their own pizzas, and then watched a stupid movie. When Duncan had gone to bed Wilson looked in on him, sleeping in the bedroom where House used to sleep, and thought how lucky he was.
House, I haven't forgotten our friendship. For every good memory, there's a slew of bad ones.
Wilson was surprised that he didn't feel any anger at seeing House again. His wrist had healed, Cuddy was long gone and his life had changed in the year that House spent in prison. He hadn't forgotten what House did, but it seemed less important - and less life shattering - than it had a year ago when he was sitting in an ambulance.
He worked with House on the case, and House was his usual exasperating, brilliant, self. He wasn't humbled by his altered circumstances, his diminished staff, or the tracking device that encircled his anklet. He was still the man Wilson had known for twenty years, both the good and the bad.
House, of course, seemed to expect that they would just pick up where they left off, and for a moment Wilson almost wanted to. It would be so easy if he could just deck House (and hadn't he fantasized about that a few times over the years?) and then they could go get a beer or something.
He pulled out his wallet and looked at the picture of Duncan he kept there. He was a father now, and if House was going to be in his life again, then he had to make sure he understood a few things.
He pushed open House's office door and stared at him.
"House, we have to talk."
"Oh honey, are we breaking up... again?"
Wilson took a deep breath. "No, but there's something you need to know. I have a son."
I just always thought, when I got old or sick, I'd have a wife or kids to look after me.
"You're getting a full body scan?" House glared at him like Wilson was responsible for the state of modern medicine. "Those things are useless."
Wilson finished getting changed into the hospital gown. He hadn't advertised his intentions but of House had found out, of course.
"I'm getting some life insurance, and if I have a scan I get a better rate."
"And you're getting life insurance because of the rugrat."
"He's twelve, House. He'd be pretty annoyed at being called a rugrat. His name is Duncan. He's my son."
House and Duncan hadn't met. Beth had understandably not been happy with the idea of her son spending time with a man out on parole. So Wilson saw House during the week, and Duncan on weekends. Luckily, because of the monitoring anklet, House couldn't bust up that arrangement - although he'd put in requests for Wilson's time during several of Duncan's weekend visits. Wilson had turned him down every time.
"Well, don't come running to me when the scan shows you're really a girl."
A day later Wilson went to House's office and showed him the scans.
"I have cancer, House."
House met Duncan for the first time in Wilson's hospital room. They'd caught the tumour at stage one, and Wilson, despite the advice of every oncologist in the hospital, had opted for an immediate operation rather than an initial round of chemo. He was about to be taken down to the OR when Duncan turned up.
Duncan was with his Mom and she cast a glance at House who was sitting by his bedside.
"Hi Beth, you remember House?" Wilson asked wryly, few people could forget House once they'd met him. He didn't give her time to answer. "Duncan, this is House, my best friend. House, this is my son."
House eyed Duncan and Wilson could almost see the various one liners going through his head. He held his breath, glancing at Beth who was in turn glaring at House.
"Nice vest," House said and Wilson relaxed. Duncan was wearing the sweater vest that Wilson had bought him for his birthday - although Wilson suspected that he was wearing it today only as a sign of support for his father, he'd seen the look the boy had given it when he'd opened his present.
Duncan looked surprised and then smiled. "Nice sneaks," he said, gesturing to House's feet.
"Totally rad," House agreed and that was that.
It really does suck being you, doesn't it?
At least I don't have cancer.
House was sitting next to Wilson in the chemo suite - or, as House called it, the puking corner. Wilson was hooked up to an IV for his last round of chemo. The chemo was just a precaution - the surgery had been successful and there was no trace of the cancer but Wilson wanted to be sure.
House was asleep, head thrown back and snoring. Wilson couldn't blame him. The chemo suite wasn't the most exciting place in the world, and House had been surprisingly supportive during his treatment.
"Dad?" He heard a tentative voice and looked up to see Duncan standing in the doorway, staring at him, his eyes wide.
Damn. Wilson had at first asked Beth to keep Duncan away during his treatment - he didn't want his son to see him suffering. After the first couple of weeks she'd insisted that he stay in contact. If he was Duncan's father she wanted him to be his father - all the time, not just when it was convenient. Still, this was the first time she'd brought him here, while he was undergoing treatment.
"I'm sorry, James. I know it's a bad time but I have to go to New York for a couple of days - it's an emergency. My father is sick. Will you be able to have Duncan?"
He wanted to say no. He was always ill for at least three days after a treatment. He knew he looked like hell - House had told him so - and he didn't know if he would have the energy to be what Duncan needed.
"I'm staying with House," he told her.
She looked at House, who was still sleeping, and frowned.
"He's a good man, Beth. Underneath it all, he's a good man."
"He's a felon."
"He was... sick then. Unstable. He's different now." It was true, Wilson knew. The mental storm that had been raging in House after the breakup with Cuddy had abated. "He'd never do anything like that again. He'd never hurt Duncan. You have my word on that, Beth."
Beth looked at her watch and sighed. Then she nodded and gave Duncan a hug goodbye, passing over a bag. To Wilson's surprise she came over to him and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek and a squeeze of his hand.
"Take care of yourself, James."
When she was gone Wilson gestured to Duncan and he came closer.
"I'm okay, Duncan. The chemotherapy makes me sick but it's getting rid of the cancer."
"This is what your Dad has been doing to his patients for twenty years." House said, his eyes opening. "Some people might consider this karma ."
"Some people who are asses," Wilson retorted, aware of Duncan still staring at him from a safe distance.
"Want a shave, kid? Join your sperm donor in his baldness? Show support and all that crap?"
Duncan considered that for a moment and then grinned. "Cool!"
"House, you are not to touch a hair on his head. Beth would kill me."
"But, Dad..." both of them whined and he closed his eyes briefly in despair. Two of them!
"No, that's my final word. No shaving."
"Okay, Dad." Duncan said with a grin.
It was going to be a long couple of days.
You have everything you need right here. We both do.
When the last set of scans came back and he was declared cancer free he took Duncan out to celebrate. They went to a movie, and then played video games in an arcade. Wilson still felt self-conscious about his baldness but Duncan didn't seem to care about his. After all, his was 'cool'. Even if it had cost Wilson an hour long, ear blistering, lecture from Beth.
When he suggested they go grab a pizza his son nodded and then surprised him by asking if House could come.
"You like House?'
"Yeah, he's weird." Duncan shrugged. "Mom said she doesn't mind if I hang with him sometimes."
Just as well Beth didn't know who was responsible for her son's 'haircut'.
House was free of the ankle monitor now but Wilson didn't expect him to drag himself away from his booze and porn to come. But an hour later there he was, sitting at the table, stuffing his face with pizza and Wilson's chips while Duncan fiddled with his phone - Facebook being far more interesting than his Dad and his Dad's weird friend apparently.
Wilson sat there and looked at both of them and thought about the past few months. Once he had cancer everything had become about that. He'd seen it in his own patients many times - cancer had a way of redefining your life. He'd always felt like his life was incomplete somehow.
He realised now that he had everything he wanted. For all his faults and problems House was his friend - and always would be, and Duncan would always be his son - nothing could change that.
He put his knife and fork down and cleared his throat, trying to gain the attention of his dinner companions.
"Oh, God. You're going to make some sort of sentimental speech aren't you?" House said, pausing in the act of shoving another piece of pizza into his mouth. Duncan tore his attention away from his phone, a horrified expression on his face.
"No. I just wanted to say how much..." he could feel himself choking up and hear the tears in his voice and both Duncan and House stared at him nervously.
"Sir?" He looked up and saw a waitress hovering at his elbow. She had a large chocolate cake in her hands.
"We didn't order that," Wilson said automatically.
"Sure we did, put it down." House said.
"No, it's not..."
"Sir, it's on the house. For your boy." She nodded towards Duncan, as if he couldn't hear her. Wilson stared at Duncan and then back at her. She had on that expression he'd seen in the paediatric cancer ward many times.
She laid the cake down and almost ran away. House, of course, had caught on and he high-fived with Duncan.
"She thought you were sick, kid. And that your idiot Dad had shaved his head to match yours." He happily helped himself to a slice of the cake. "We could make money with this, Wilson. Keep him bald for a while."
Wilson's speech was forgotten, but that was okay too.
I don't wanna go back, House
Wilson had been back at work for two weeks when Alejandro Cruz died. He'd been the boy's doctor for eight years of his tortured twelve years of life. He turned a baseball card over and over in his hands. It was one of the most prized in Alejandro's collection. His parents had no interest in baseball so Alejandro had spent his last year of life giving away his cards to people he thought might treasure them. He'd known he was going to die. Wilson had told him.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there when House came to his office.
"I can't do this any more, House." Wilson said, staring at the card. "I can't watch any more kids die."
"Even you don't kill them all."
"Too many die."
"There's a beach in Fiji with my name on it. If you really want to do the whole middle-age crisis thing. Tell the bartender that House sent you. He'll give you the good stuff. We can have matching bracelets."
"I'm not looking at going into exile. I'm just going to take a break - a long break."
"This is because of the kid."
"Duncan, House. His name is Duncan. And no, it's not just because of him. Having cancer... it gives you a new perspective on things. I think I'm only understanding that now I've been through it."
House went quiet and Wilson shook his head.
"House, I'm not leaving you . It's going to be okay."
"Things will be different."
"They already are."
What are you doing for the next five months?
"You had to bring him?"
"It's summer, he wasn't doing anything else."
"We can hardly tear up the highways with a kid along."
"It's only for the first month."
House scowled into the rear view mirror at Duncan who was playing Angry Birds on his phone. Duncan looked up and grinned at him.
Wilson smiled. For all his grousing House had barely objected to Duncan joining them for the beginning of their road trip. Beth had been a harder sell but in the end she'd agreed.
They'd both taken a six month sabbatical from the hospital. Time off to breathe. Time to spend with his son, and his friend. Time to figure out where he - or where they - went from here. Chase had diagnostics, Browne had oncology and Wilson's neighbour had Sarah, the diabetic cat.
Wilson sat back in the seat, and took out a packet of Oreos. He offered one to Duncan - who took two with a mumbled 'thanks, Dad.' Then he took one out for himself.
House glanced at him. "Just going to lick the creamy filling?"
Wilson smiled and took a big bite of the cookie - black stuff and all.
"People change, House."
Enjoy yourself
It's later than you think
Enjoy yourself
While you're still in the pink
The years go by as quickly as a wink
Enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself
It's later than you think
Enjoy yourself
(Enjoy Yourself by Louis Prima)
~ End
Characters: House & Wilson, Duncan
Rating: PG
Words: 2700
Wilson's Health Status
Summary: What if Duncan was really Wilson's son?
Author's Notes : It's Father's Day here so I thought I'd finish off this story which I've had hanging around for ages. Dedicated to my Dad (although he'll never see it!). Happy Father's Day, Dad.
"I have an eleven-year-old son."
Wilson sat in the diner, waiting for Beth and Duncan to arrive. He stared at the cast on his arm. It had been one week since he dived out of the way of House's car and broke his wrist. Six days since the phone call from Beth that changed everything.
Beth had sent him a photo. Duncan was eleven, had brown hair, brown eyes and a warm smile. He looked happy in the photo. Wilson hoped he'd had a good life with his Mom. He didn't know what he could add to it, his own life felt like it was in ruins. House was gone and Cuddy was leaving Princeton. He was alone.
For a moment he had considered telling Beth to forget it, that the kid would be better off without him. He'd make a lousy Dad. But in the end he'd said yes. This was something Duncan wanted, and that mattered more than what Wilson wanted. And Wilson didn't even know what he wanted.
They walked in together, Duncan staying close to his mother, nervous but curious. Wilson stood up to greet them. When Duncan smiled tentatively and offered him his hand to shake Wilson stared into those familiar eyes and knew that this was his son. He was a father.
In that moment he knew he'd made the right decision. He knew what he wanted.
"What shall I call you?" Duncan asked as they sat down.
"Call me James," Wilson said. "Can I buy you a burger?"
"There are actually things in this world that give life even more meaning than soap operas and monster trucks. And we happen to be missing out on at least one of them."
It wasn't that Wilson hadn't thought about having children - he had. He'd been married three times after all, and he'd always had the vague expectation that there would eventually be children. He'd told himself, many times, that it was just as well, given the divorces, that it never happened. It had been cleaner, easier, that way.
Now, after spending time with Duncan, he realised he had been lying to himself. Duncan had made his life so much more.
For the first couple of visits Beth had accompanied Duncan. Wilson had taken them to the movies and then to a baseball game. Duncan had seemed to have a good time; eating an immense amount of junk food on both occasions. The third time Beth had let Duncan go by himself, just dropping him off and then picking him up again at the end of the day. Wilson found himself looking forward to each visit by his son eagerly.
He set up regular payments for Beth, although she said it wasn't necessary, and started to put away money for Duncan's future.
One weekend Duncan stayed the night at his apartment. They made their own pizzas, and then watched a stupid movie. When Duncan had gone to bed Wilson looked in on him, sleeping in the bedroom where House used to sleep, and thought how lucky he was.
House, I haven't forgotten our friendship. For every good memory, there's a slew of bad ones.
Wilson was surprised that he didn't feel any anger at seeing House again. His wrist had healed, Cuddy was long gone and his life had changed in the year that House spent in prison. He hadn't forgotten what House did, but it seemed less important - and less life shattering - than it had a year ago when he was sitting in an ambulance.
He worked with House on the case, and House was his usual exasperating, brilliant, self. He wasn't humbled by his altered circumstances, his diminished staff, or the tracking device that encircled his anklet. He was still the man Wilson had known for twenty years, both the good and the bad.
House, of course, seemed to expect that they would just pick up where they left off, and for a moment Wilson almost wanted to. It would be so easy if he could just deck House (and hadn't he fantasized about that a few times over the years?) and then they could go get a beer or something.
He pulled out his wallet and looked at the picture of Duncan he kept there. He was a father now, and if House was going to be in his life again, then he had to make sure he understood a few things.
He pushed open House's office door and stared at him.
"House, we have to talk."
"Oh honey, are we breaking up... again?"
Wilson took a deep breath. "No, but there's something you need to know. I have a son."
I just always thought, when I got old or sick, I'd have a wife or kids to look after me.
"You're getting a full body scan?" House glared at him like Wilson was responsible for the state of modern medicine. "Those things are useless."
Wilson finished getting changed into the hospital gown. He hadn't advertised his intentions but of House had found out, of course.
"I'm getting some life insurance, and if I have a scan I get a better rate."
"And you're getting life insurance because of the rugrat."
"He's twelve, House. He'd be pretty annoyed at being called a rugrat. His name is Duncan. He's my son."
House and Duncan hadn't met. Beth had understandably not been happy with the idea of her son spending time with a man out on parole. So Wilson saw House during the week, and Duncan on weekends. Luckily, because of the monitoring anklet, House couldn't bust up that arrangement - although he'd put in requests for Wilson's time during several of Duncan's weekend visits. Wilson had turned him down every time.
"Well, don't come running to me when the scan shows you're really a girl."
A day later Wilson went to House's office and showed him the scans.
"I have cancer, House."
House met Duncan for the first time in Wilson's hospital room. They'd caught the tumour at stage one, and Wilson, despite the advice of every oncologist in the hospital, had opted for an immediate operation rather than an initial round of chemo. He was about to be taken down to the OR when Duncan turned up.
Duncan was with his Mom and she cast a glance at House who was sitting by his bedside.
"Hi Beth, you remember House?" Wilson asked wryly, few people could forget House once they'd met him. He didn't give her time to answer. "Duncan, this is House, my best friend. House, this is my son."
House eyed Duncan and Wilson could almost see the various one liners going through his head. He held his breath, glancing at Beth who was in turn glaring at House.
"Nice vest," House said and Wilson relaxed. Duncan was wearing the sweater vest that Wilson had bought him for his birthday - although Wilson suspected that he was wearing it today only as a sign of support for his father, he'd seen the look the boy had given it when he'd opened his present.
Duncan looked surprised and then smiled. "Nice sneaks," he said, gesturing to House's feet.
"Totally rad," House agreed and that was that.
It really does suck being you, doesn't it?
At least I don't have cancer.
House was sitting next to Wilson in the chemo suite - or, as House called it, the puking corner. Wilson was hooked up to an IV for his last round of chemo. The chemo was just a precaution - the surgery had been successful and there was no trace of the cancer but Wilson wanted to be sure.
House was asleep, head thrown back and snoring. Wilson couldn't blame him. The chemo suite wasn't the most exciting place in the world, and House had been surprisingly supportive during his treatment.
"Dad?" He heard a tentative voice and looked up to see Duncan standing in the doorway, staring at him, his eyes wide.
Damn. Wilson had at first asked Beth to keep Duncan away during his treatment - he didn't want his son to see him suffering. After the first couple of weeks she'd insisted that he stay in contact. If he was Duncan's father she wanted him to be his father - all the time, not just when it was convenient. Still, this was the first time she'd brought him here, while he was undergoing treatment.
"I'm sorry, James. I know it's a bad time but I have to go to New York for a couple of days - it's an emergency. My father is sick. Will you be able to have Duncan?"
He wanted to say no. He was always ill for at least three days after a treatment. He knew he looked like hell - House had told him so - and he didn't know if he would have the energy to be what Duncan needed.
"I'm staying with House," he told her.
She looked at House, who was still sleeping, and frowned.
"He's a good man, Beth. Underneath it all, he's a good man."
"He's a felon."
"He was... sick then. Unstable. He's different now." It was true, Wilson knew. The mental storm that had been raging in House after the breakup with Cuddy had abated. "He'd never do anything like that again. He'd never hurt Duncan. You have my word on that, Beth."
Beth looked at her watch and sighed. Then she nodded and gave Duncan a hug goodbye, passing over a bag. To Wilson's surprise she came over to him and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek and a squeeze of his hand.
"Take care of yourself, James."
When she was gone Wilson gestured to Duncan and he came closer.
"I'm okay, Duncan. The chemotherapy makes me sick but it's getting rid of the cancer."
"This is what your Dad has been doing to his patients for twenty years." House said, his eyes opening. "Some people might consider this karma ."
"Some people who are asses," Wilson retorted, aware of Duncan still staring at him from a safe distance.
"Want a shave, kid? Join your sperm donor in his baldness? Show support and all that crap?"
Duncan considered that for a moment and then grinned. "Cool!"
"House, you are not to touch a hair on his head. Beth would kill me."
"But, Dad..." both of them whined and he closed his eyes briefly in despair. Two of them!
"No, that's my final word. No shaving."
"Okay, Dad." Duncan said with a grin.
It was going to be a long couple of days.
You have everything you need right here. We both do.
When the last set of scans came back and he was declared cancer free he took Duncan out to celebrate. They went to a movie, and then played video games in an arcade. Wilson still felt self-conscious about his baldness but Duncan didn't seem to care about his. After all, his was 'cool'. Even if it had cost Wilson an hour long, ear blistering, lecture from Beth.
When he suggested they go grab a pizza his son nodded and then surprised him by asking if House could come.
"You like House?'
"Yeah, he's weird." Duncan shrugged. "Mom said she doesn't mind if I hang with him sometimes."
Just as well Beth didn't know who was responsible for her son's 'haircut'.
House was free of the ankle monitor now but Wilson didn't expect him to drag himself away from his booze and porn to come. But an hour later there he was, sitting at the table, stuffing his face with pizza and Wilson's chips while Duncan fiddled with his phone - Facebook being far more interesting than his Dad and his Dad's weird friend apparently.
Wilson sat there and looked at both of them and thought about the past few months. Once he had cancer everything had become about that. He'd seen it in his own patients many times - cancer had a way of redefining your life. He'd always felt like his life was incomplete somehow.
He realised now that he had everything he wanted. For all his faults and problems House was his friend - and always would be, and Duncan would always be his son - nothing could change that.
He put his knife and fork down and cleared his throat, trying to gain the attention of his dinner companions.
"Oh, God. You're going to make some sort of sentimental speech aren't you?" House said, pausing in the act of shoving another piece of pizza into his mouth. Duncan tore his attention away from his phone, a horrified expression on his face.
"No. I just wanted to say how much..." he could feel himself choking up and hear the tears in his voice and both Duncan and House stared at him nervously.
"Sir?" He looked up and saw a waitress hovering at his elbow. She had a large chocolate cake in her hands.
"We didn't order that," Wilson said automatically.
"Sure we did, put it down." House said.
"No, it's not..."
"Sir, it's on the house. For your boy." She nodded towards Duncan, as if he couldn't hear her. Wilson stared at Duncan and then back at her. She had on that expression he'd seen in the paediatric cancer ward many times.
She laid the cake down and almost ran away. House, of course, had caught on and he high-fived with Duncan.
"She thought you were sick, kid. And that your idiot Dad had shaved his head to match yours." He happily helped himself to a slice of the cake. "We could make money with this, Wilson. Keep him bald for a while."
Wilson's speech was forgotten, but that was okay too.
I don't wanna go back, House
Wilson had been back at work for two weeks when Alejandro Cruz died. He'd been the boy's doctor for eight years of his tortured twelve years of life. He turned a baseball card over and over in his hands. It was one of the most prized in Alejandro's collection. His parents had no interest in baseball so Alejandro had spent his last year of life giving away his cards to people he thought might treasure them. He'd known he was going to die. Wilson had told him.
He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there when House came to his office.
"I can't do this any more, House." Wilson said, staring at the card. "I can't watch any more kids die."
"Even you don't kill them all."
"Too many die."
"There's a beach in Fiji with my name on it. If you really want to do the whole middle-age crisis thing. Tell the bartender that House sent you. He'll give you the good stuff. We can have matching bracelets."
"I'm not looking at going into exile. I'm just going to take a break - a long break."
"This is because of the kid."
"Duncan, House. His name is Duncan. And no, it's not just because of him. Having cancer... it gives you a new perspective on things. I think I'm only understanding that now I've been through it."
House went quiet and Wilson shook his head.
"House, I'm not leaving you . It's going to be okay."
"Things will be different."
"They already are."
What are you doing for the next five months?
"You had to bring him?"
"It's summer, he wasn't doing anything else."
"We can hardly tear up the highways with a kid along."
"It's only for the first month."
House scowled into the rear view mirror at Duncan who was playing Angry Birds on his phone. Duncan looked up and grinned at him.
Wilson smiled. For all his grousing House had barely objected to Duncan joining them for the beginning of their road trip. Beth had been a harder sell but in the end she'd agreed.
They'd both taken a six month sabbatical from the hospital. Time off to breathe. Time to spend with his son, and his friend. Time to figure out where he - or where they - went from here. Chase had diagnostics, Browne had oncology and Wilson's neighbour had Sarah, the diabetic cat.
Wilson sat back in the seat, and took out a packet of Oreos. He offered one to Duncan - who took two with a mumbled 'thanks, Dad.' Then he took one out for himself.
House glanced at him. "Just going to lick the creamy filling?"
Wilson smiled and took a big bite of the cookie - black stuff and all.
"People change, House."
Enjoy yourself
It's later than you think
Enjoy yourself
While you're still in the pink
The years go by as quickly as a wink
Enjoy yourself, enjoy yourself
It's later than you think
Enjoy yourself
(Enjoy Yourself by Louis Prima)
~ End
