Fic : Together
Oct. 31st, 2014 08:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
menolly_auTitle: Together
Characters: House/Wilson
Rating: PG
Words: 600
Summary: Sometimes you need to stop running. Set in the same vague apocalyptic universe as Enough and Without . Written for the Sick!Wilson RenFest Trick-or-Treat Challenge
"Hold still," House orders, his voice quiet, as always. The intensity of his expression would have scared Wilson, if Wilson was still capable of being scared.
Their small store of medical supplies includes a nearly empty bottle of disinfectant and House uses it liberally on the wound. Wilson hisses in pain but holds still as House thoroughly cleans the small puncture marks. Wilson looks away, towards the fireplace he'd been clearing of debris. The rat must have been hidden in its depths. House had been checking out the rest of the house, but he'd come running at Wilson's yelp of pain.
"You should have a tetanus shot," House mutters but they both know that's not going to happen. Tetanus shots belong to their old world. Not this one. The only thing they can do now is hope for the best.
House finishes cleaning the wound and sits back.
"Shame you didn't catch the rat, it would go well with the beans."
"Sorry, I was too busy bleeding." Wilson makes a face. They haven't been reduced to eating rats, yet... He pushes the thought away. It won't come to that. They've heard rumours of some sort of organised push to try and reclaim what's left of their world. Things will never be normal again, but one day they might be better.
They settle down for the day. They finish clearing out the fireplace and House lights a small fire in it, to keep the fall chill away. The weather is turning. It will be the first winter since the world changed. Wilson isn't sure how they'll survive. They've made it this far though, against all odds.
"I wonder what happened to the owners of this house," he muses and House shoots him a sharp look. They don't talk about things like that. They don't talk about where people might have gone, or who might have survived. They just don't. There's no point.
He shrugs in half apology, and leans in against House as they watch the fire. Outside the wind is picking up, rattling the battered door to the house. The place has been raided - many times by the look of it - but it'll keep them safe for a while. Or maybe more than a while, he thinks.
"We can't keep running," he says, a wave of conviction settling over him. There have been too many close calls, and too much damage - to both of them. "Not forever. We need to settle somewhere." They've been dodging from place to place for months now. He's tired, and House is tired. "This house is in a good position. We can settle down and make a camp here - go foraging when we need to." Maybe they could try and plant something. Make a home for themselves. Maybe they could start living again, instead of just surviving.
There's silence, except for the wind and the crackling of the fire.
"Okay," House says finally. "We'll look around in the morning. See if rats are the only thing we have to worry about here." He rummages in his pocket and produces a small packet and thrusts it at Wilson. "Here. Found this earlier in the kid's bedroom upstairs. Happy Halloween."
It's candy. Not Wilson's favourite sort but now it looks like the most delicious food in the world. A reminder of better times. They share it together, in front of the fire.
"How do you know it's Halloween?" Wilson asks. He's long since lost track of the exact date. Maybe House has worked it out from the configuration of the stars and the moon. Or maybe he's pulled it out of his ass.
House just shrugs. It doesn't matter.
Wilson throws the empty packet into the fire.
"Happy Halloween, House," he says and draws him in, holding him against his body, warming them both.
There is very little certainty in their lives, and none in their future, but this they have.
It's enough.
~ End
Characters: House/Wilson
Rating: PG
Words: 600
Summary: Sometimes you need to stop running. Set in the same vague apocalyptic universe as Enough and Without . Written for the Sick!Wilson RenFest Trick-or-Treat Challenge
"Hold still," House orders, his voice quiet, as always. The intensity of his expression would have scared Wilson, if Wilson was still capable of being scared.
Their small store of medical supplies includes a nearly empty bottle of disinfectant and House uses it liberally on the wound. Wilson hisses in pain but holds still as House thoroughly cleans the small puncture marks. Wilson looks away, towards the fireplace he'd been clearing of debris. The rat must have been hidden in its depths. House had been checking out the rest of the house, but he'd come running at Wilson's yelp of pain.
"You should have a tetanus shot," House mutters but they both know that's not going to happen. Tetanus shots belong to their old world. Not this one. The only thing they can do now is hope for the best.
House finishes cleaning the wound and sits back.
"Shame you didn't catch the rat, it would go well with the beans."
"Sorry, I was too busy bleeding." Wilson makes a face. They haven't been reduced to eating rats, yet... He pushes the thought away. It won't come to that. They've heard rumours of some sort of organised push to try and reclaim what's left of their world. Things will never be normal again, but one day they might be better.
They settle down for the day. They finish clearing out the fireplace and House lights a small fire in it, to keep the fall chill away. The weather is turning. It will be the first winter since the world changed. Wilson isn't sure how they'll survive. They've made it this far though, against all odds.
"I wonder what happened to the owners of this house," he muses and House shoots him a sharp look. They don't talk about things like that. They don't talk about where people might have gone, or who might have survived. They just don't. There's no point.
He shrugs in half apology, and leans in against House as they watch the fire. Outside the wind is picking up, rattling the battered door to the house. The place has been raided - many times by the look of it - but it'll keep them safe for a while. Or maybe more than a while, he thinks.
"We can't keep running," he says, a wave of conviction settling over him. There have been too many close calls, and too much damage - to both of them. "Not forever. We need to settle somewhere." They've been dodging from place to place for months now. He's tired, and House is tired. "This house is in a good position. We can settle down and make a camp here - go foraging when we need to." Maybe they could try and plant something. Make a home for themselves. Maybe they could start living again, instead of just surviving.
There's silence, except for the wind and the crackling of the fire.
"Okay," House says finally. "We'll look around in the morning. See if rats are the only thing we have to worry about here." He rummages in his pocket and produces a small packet and thrusts it at Wilson. "Here. Found this earlier in the kid's bedroom upstairs. Happy Halloween."
It's candy. Not Wilson's favourite sort but now it looks like the most delicious food in the world. A reminder of better times. They share it together, in front of the fire.
"How do you know it's Halloween?" Wilson asks. He's long since lost track of the exact date. Maybe House has worked it out from the configuration of the stars and the moon. Or maybe he's pulled it out of his ass.
House just shrugs. It doesn't matter.
Wilson throws the empty packet into the fire.
"Happy Halloween, House," he says and draws him in, holding him against his body, warming them both.
There is very little certainty in their lives, and none in their future, but this they have.
It's enough.
~ End
