menolly_au

Title: Be Not Afraid
Author: menolly_au
Words: 1322
Warnings : Extreme silliness and excessive pop culture references
Genre : Crack
Summary : Wilson has a dreadful disease which House must cure...

Written for the pop culture challenge at Camp Sick!Wilson which can be found here

“Wilson, they're heeeeeeeeeeere! “ House flung open the door to Wilson's office and watched as his minions trudged in.

“You rang?” Chase said sourly, they'd all been called back only an hour after leaving work. They were not happy little vegemites.

House grinned at him.

“Houston, we have a problem.”

“Cut it out House, it's late, we're tired. Either tell us what you want or we're going, “ Foreman intervened.

House gestured at Wilson was was sitting sourly behind his desk, mouth clamped shut and arms crossed in front of him.

“I have diagnosed Wilson with a severe case of Advanced Systemic Pop Culture-itis. He is currently unable to say anything that isn't a pop culture reference.”

“ASPIC...” Thirteen muttered reverently.

“Wouldn't it be ASPCI?” asked Chase.

“You try saying ASPCI.”

“ASPIC has never been diagnosed in a well-round fully functioning adult House. It has only been shown to affect those who spend most of their day on the internet visiting TV Tropes, fanfiction sites, writing in their blogs and going to all those other sites for losers. “ Foreman argued. “Wilson is not a loser.”

The others all stared at him.

“Well, he has been divorced three times and met his last girlfriend on Facebook.” Thirteen pointed out. “And his best friend is House...”

“What we have here is a failure to communicate.” House cut across their conversation. “There is no need to argue the diagnosis. He has ASPIC. Go on Wilson, talk to them, go ahead, make my day!”

Wilson stood up, hands on hips and glared at them.

“Uh oh, Danger Will Robinson!” Chase muttered at the look on Wilson's face.

“You talkin' to me?” Wilson yelled. “Can you hear me now? What you see is what you get! Not that there is anything wrong with that.”

The minions stared at him, jaws dropping. Thirteen huddled closer to Chase.

“Toto, I have a feeling we're not in Kansas any more. “

Chase looked at her, stretching out his hand.

“Reach out and touch someone Remy.”

“Have it your way.” Thirteen took his hand and they came together.

Foreman stared at them both, shaking his head.

“Frankly me dears, I just don't give a damn.”

Taub glared at them all.

“So Wilson has ASPIC, why are you all talking like that too?”

House grinned at him.

“The devil made me do it! Try it, you'll like it.”

Taub shook his head, disgusted. “Well, stupid is as stupid does I guess.”

“So, what is the cure for ASPIC?” Foreman asked.

“First, we detox him. Take everything out of his house and office that is remotely connected to pop culture. Remove his laptop, his computers, his IPAD and his Iphone. Delete all his contacts on Facebook, Twitter and everywhere else. “

Wilson looked alarmed, his hand going to the back of his neck and rubbing furiously.

“Snap! Crackle! Pop!” he said, desperately trying to convey his fear. “I've fallen and I can't get up!”

“No, this is the only way Wilson. Cold turkey.” House grabbed his friend's laptop and logged onto Facebook. His finger hovering over the delete key. “Hasta la vista, baby.” With one press he deleted Wilson's entire social life. “Resistance is futile Wilson – I am your only hope.”

Wilson groaned and sunk back into his office chair.

Thirteen went to the door, slipping through it. “I'll be back.”

“Next, we have to spice up his life. Give him something besides pop culture to live for. I will move in with him. ASPIC breeds in bachelor apartments. “

Wilson stared at him, eyes wide in alarm. “Damn it House, I'm a doctor, not a thrill seeker!”

“Is that your final answer? Don't worry, I'll make you an offer you can't refuse.” House waggled his eyebrows at him and Wilson groaned, covering his face with his hands.

“This is the only way Wilson, the tribe has spoken.” House turned briskly to Foreman and Taub. “You two make yourself useful and start emptying out this office. Take all those movie posters, those bears, his DVD collection, the little Star Trek figurines in his drawer he doesn't think I know about. Take it all.”

Taub and Foreman looked around the cluttered office and down at the cardboard box House was thrusting at them.

“We're gonna need a bigger boat.” Foreman shook his head and they both left to get some more boxes.

“What can I do to help? “ asked Chase.

“Nothing, this is American pop culture, not British – you wouldn't understand. No soup for you!”

“Well isn't that special.” Chase shook his head. “I know nothing! I don't know the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat. We have our own culture you know. It's not all shrimp on the barbie and she'll be right mate! But have it your way.”

“Don't leave home without it.” House sneered. “E.T phone home. Don't let the door hit you on the arse on the way out.”

As Chase went to leave he stared sadly at Wilson. “Good night, John Boy.”

Wilson stared longingly after him as Chase escaped.

“Beam me up, Scotty!” he called after him but Chase ignored him.

Alone at last the two friends stared at each other.

“Seriously Wilson, it will be okay. We'll get you through this.”

Wilson took a deep breath.

“Sometimes you feel like a nut, sometimes you don't.”

House grinned.

“You're not a nut Wilson. I can cure this, its so easy a caveman could do it.”

Thirteen returned just then, bearing a container of steaming liquid.

“I got this from a patient in geriatrics. His wife makes it at home from a recipe from the 1800s. Completely untouched by modern culture, she doesn't even watch television while she's making it. It tastes great, less filling than our modern food. Guaranteed to cure ASPIC she says. It's like the nighttime, sniffling, sneezing, coughing, aching, stuffy head, fever so you can rest medicine. But better!”

Wilson took the container from her, staring at its contents.

“Go on Wilson, drink it. It's good to the last drop, it will put a tiger in your tank. Just do it.” Thirteen urged.

Wilson shrugged, he had little to lose.

They both watched in rapt attention as he drank. It was a big container but Wilson kept on going, and going and going.....

Finally he finished, thumping it back on the desk.

“I can't believe I ate the whole thing! Shaken not stirred.”

He slumped in dejection. It hadn't worked.

House eyed Thirteen. “Lucy, you got some splainin' to do!”

Thirteen looked defeated. “She said it would work. I'll try and find something else.”

House shook his head gravely.

“Do, or do not. There is no try.”

Thirteen nodded and left the office.

House smiled fondly after her, he'd done well choosing Thirteen for his team, she took a licking but kept on ticking.

He turned to Wilson.

“Okay Wilson, time to go. Let's blow this joint.”

Wilson got up, slipping on his jacket.

“Just one more thing Wilson...” House fiddled with his cane. “If I'm going to move in with you and help you through this you need to know. What you see is what you get. There is no other me.”

Wilson smiled at him.

“Of all the gin joints in all the towns of the world, you walked into mine. I am, and always shall be, your friend.”

House grinned.

“Here's looking at you kid.”

They walked out of the hospital towards the setting sun.

….and they both lived long and prospered.