His Own Good

[DaylightStarr]

Title: His Own Good

Fandom: House MD

Spoilers: Well, as I’ve only seen the first and a little bit of the second season, nothing that most of you House fans haven’t seen already.

Characters: Wilson/House friendship fic, with some Cameron, Foreman and Chase thrown in for good measure.

Disclaimer: Not mine. Even if they could be, I’d have to get in the back of a very, VERY long line, and I don’t like lines.

Summery: Wilson has a cold. House tries to make him go home. And just about the most pointless fanfic in history is born.

A/N: Yes, I too have jumped on the Wilson torture bandwagon. This is my very first House fic, so please be nice. I really hope I’ve kept them in character. *Nervously bites her nails*

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“HUR-eh-Chhaa! Heh-eh-CHAaa!”

House stopped dead in his tracks. Even if he hadn’t been passing by the Oncology department, he’d know that sneeze anywhere. In fact, it came from the very man he was looking for. He peered down the hallway, where Wilson was walking away from a nurse. “House, what are you doing here?” His voice was deeper than normal and had a raw, almost painful quality to it.

“Funny, I was just about to ask you the same thing. Doesn’t it go against those pesky ethics of yours to have this cold you seem to be harboring around people with cancer, some of whom are on immuno-suppressants, just because you had a fight with your wife? I mean, if you did have a fight with your wife, and you don’t just really love those clothes.” He looked pointedly at the winkles on Wilson’s pant leg. “Are those your lucky work pants? They must be, because you wore them yesterday. Of course by that logic, that whole outfit must be very lucky indeed.”

“We aren’t fighting.” He didn’t quiet meet House’s eyes when he said that, something that House noticed and told himself not to forget to chide him about later. “I had to work a turn around shift, so I just cut out the middle man and sl… slept…here.” He took a couple shuddery breaths and brought his elbow up to his face. “HEH-Ruh-Chaa! Heh-Chuu!” Sniffling, Wilson cupped and hand over his nose and searched his lab coat pocket with his free one.

“Oh for the love of… here.” House stuffed a wrinkled but clean tissue in his friend’s hand. “This is exactly why these never leave my sight when my allergies are acting up. You could take lessons.”

“Cut the self righteous act.” Wilson headed for the bathroom. “You clearly came looking for me, which means you clearly had something in mind when you found me. Mind telling me what that was?”

“What, you don’t want to play a guessing game?” An eyebrow shot up at the withering look Wilson gave him. “No? Okay, well I could tell you that I have an extremely important case that only you can help me with, but that would be lying…” He arced the word to let Wilson know that he still wasn’t in the clear with the “my wife and I are just fine” thing. “Or I could tell you that I was lonely and needed the company, but again, another lie. No, I really came looking for you because my team doesn’t have a case, I’m avoiding clinic duty, and I want lunch. And so do you.”

“Actually, I want to get my work done. I’m backed up as it is, and I was planning on plowing through it during my lunch break.”

“Ah, but then where’s the break? I got you th… sneeze that way.” He pointed toward the wall with his cane when Wilson‘s breath hitched and his eyes snapped shut.

Wilson turned away and brought the tissue up to his face. “HURR-choo! Heh-errr-Chumph!” He sniffled again and opened the bathroom door. “Need to wash my hands.”

“What, you don’t carry that hand sanitizer stuff in your coat? All the cool nerds are doing it.” He frowned a bit. “Cool nerd, isn’t that an oxymoron?”

Wilson sighed, grabbed several paper towels and stuffed them in his pocket before opening the door with a fresh one. “If you say so. Look, like I told you, I have… have… ha… HAH-Choo! HUR-Eh-Choo!” He blew his nose loudly with one of the new paper towels before throwing both in the trash can near the door.

“ Ouch! That’s not hard on the nose at all. Anyway, you have a bowl of chicken soup calling your name all the way from the cafeteria. And your bed at home is calling even louder. Why’d you even bother coming in at all? You really can’t be around patients like this. Cuddy would have your head if she found out. When did it get this bad, anyway? You were fine yest… no you weren’t. You were tired yesterday. You drank way too much coffee to be fine. I thought it was just me wearing off on you, but…”

“Are you done? Yes, I was tired yesterday, but that was all. I fell asleep here on my sofa last night feeling a little run down, nothing major, slight headache, minor cough, you know the drill, and woke up this morning a sniffling, sneezing, coughing… walking ad for Nyquil.” Wilson rolled his eyes and coughed into his shoulder, then rubbed at his neck in a pained way.

“And walking ads for cold medicine should be at home, taking said medicine, not at work, trying to share what they have with the group. Go home. But after lunch, it’s pasta day.”

“Do you ever think of anything but your stomach? Wait, don’t answer that, I already know what you’re going to say.” He allowed himself to be lead into the cafeteria, in spite of his protests that he should get back to work.

“I’ll have a double helping of the penne pasta and my friend here will have the chicken soup.” The girl behind the counter nodded and dished up the food.

“Are these together?” The cashier asked in a rather bored tone.

Wilson sighed. “Yeah, they are.” He fished for his wallet, but House slapped down a ten before he could get to it.

“Let’s eat.”

Wilson made a huffy noise. “If I’m dying, you can tell me.”

“What?”

“I always figured that you’d only ever foot the bill if I were on my way out.”

“Nothing that drastic yet. Eat your food.”

Wilson managed to put away half his lunch before getting to his feet. “Thanks for lunch, I’m going… bah… HEH-Urrr-chUU! Hep-AH-chaa! Back to work.” He blew his nose loudly, seeming a bit embarrassed as a few people nearest to him gave him wary looks and appeared to inch away from him just a bit. His cheeks were tinted pink, but House doubted that that had much to do with Wilson being shy about blowing his nose in public, and more to do with the fact that he was starting a fever.

“You really should be going home.” He studied Wilson’s flushed cheeks and droopy eyes, which were decidedly less bright than they had been, even before lunch.

Wilson simply shook his head and headed for the door. “I’m fine,” he called over his shoulder.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When House limped into his office, he had all the earmarks of someone with a very interesting case in mind. He snagged a marker and began to scrawl on his whiteboard. “Patient is a thirty-six year old male. He went to sleep last night with slight chest congestion, a headache, and possibly a low grade fever. He now has the following symptoms. Tell me what you think about this.”

Chase glanced at his colleagues, a small frown playing between his eyebrows. “You’re… you’re joking, right?” He half laughed.

“Would I joke about something like this?” House looked impatient.

“Uh, yeah, you would, if you were bored enough.” Foreman nodded firmly, picking his pen back up and going back to the doodle he’d started before he’d been so rudely interrupted by House being House.

“Yeah, I guess I would, but I’m not. Guesses people. Now.”

“Dr. House,” Cameron began slowly, as if not wanting to offend him. “Coughing, sneezing, runny nose, fever, headache; those are all the symptoms of a bad cold. Isn’t there anything else you can tell us?”

“Oh yeah.” He quickly wrote out the words “body aches”.

Chase shook his head. “So now we’re dealing with what, a bad cold or the flu?”

“Give Boy Wonder the grand prize. So, how do we get rid of a bad cold or the flu?”

“I don’t believe this.” Foreman griped, tossing down his pen in frustration. “You want us to diagnose and tell you how to treat a bad cold?”

“Or the flu, whichever one you think it most likely is.” He leaned on his cane. “Well, which one is it?”

“Um…” Chase looked at Cameron helplessly. “The sneezing points to a cold.”

“But the body aches and fever point to something more serious.” She added, still looking puzzled.

“Anyway, cold or flu, why are we dealing with this guy?”

“Because the patient in question will not leave work. We all agree that he’s sick with something he can spread to his co-workers. So, he needs a note, or maybe several notes telling his boss he needs to go home and take it easy. That, my dear peons, is where you come in.”

Foreman raised his eyes and glared at House. “There is no way you are getting us to lie to Cuddy for you so you can take the day off.”

“Not for me, you moron, though you do flatter me by thinking I‘m thirty-six. No, just make the notes out for a Dr. James Wilson. He’ll get the hint when four of them show up on his desk.”

“Dr. Wilson’s sick?”

“Give the lady the second prize. And you, Foreman, are out of the game. You just get to write your note and be happy about it.” He passed around three sheets of paper with his name on the top, then took one for himself. “Feel free to write whatever you want, as long as it has something to do with Dr. James Wilson going home and resting until he’s feeling better.” When no one started to write, he looked up. “I can’t be the only one doing this, he won’t listen to me. I’ve been telling him to go home all day.”

“We can’t just force someone to go home without seeing him first, that’s just…”

House cut Chase off. “Wrong? He would never let you guys look at him, which is why I told you what his symptoms were. I do this all the time. You tell me what the patient has, I tell you how to treat them. We’re just doing it in reverse. So go on, write. Don’t make me say the “p” word, you know I won’t. Besides, these notes are for his own good. He‘s pushing himself too hard.” He knew that would get Cameron, even if Foreman and Chase still wanted to be stubborn about it.

Sure enough, Cameron picked up her pen and began to scratch on the sheet of paper. “Good girl.” House grinned to himself and continued work on his own note, the highlights of it being words like “pigheaded”, “denial” and “not enough sense to come in out of the rain”. A very truthful note, but not one that a person would feel comfortable presenting to one’s boss. Even if said boss knew the note writer.

Chase shrugged and followed her lead, and then Foreman did so, if not reluctantly. House collected them and added his own to the mix. “Alright, now we go and send our patient home. Actually, I go. You three stay here and clean my office, or something like that.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wilson sat at his desk, rubbing his aching, tired eyes. He’d already used more tissues in that past half hour than he had that whole morning, and his runny nose wasn’t showing any signs of letting up. A loud tap on his glass door made him jump. He scowled and waved House in. “What do you want?”

“You’re just so warm and friendly when you’re sick, Jimmy. Really, a joy to be around and an inspiration to others. I can see why you didn’t want to go home. We’d be cheerless without you.” He sat down and tossed the excuse notes on his desk. “But you are infecting your co-workers, more importantly; your patients, and, more importantly still; me with your illness, so I called a consult and we chose to send you home.”

“You can’t just send me… Hep-EH-Chaa! HUR-eh-Choo! Heh-Choo! Heh-eh-Choo!” He blew his nose and touched his forehead.

“We can and we have. I can even take these to Cuddy and you couldn’t say a damned thing about it. She’d agree with me. Or rather, with us. You need to go home, curl up on your couch, watch a few of those old movies you’re so damn fond of and just let everything else take care of itself.”

Wilson groaned and stood up, rubbing at his aching shoulders. “I don’t want to go home right now, okay.”

“And the truth will set you free.” He fished in his jacket pocket and pulled out his key ring. “I can’t even believe I’m saying this, but I am. Then go to my place.”

“You aren’t even going to press me about why I’m not going home?”

“Wrong time, wrong place. Just think of it as I’m doing you a favor. You can repay me by leaving the door unlocked so I can get in and not eating all my food. God knows I don’t keep much in there to start with.”

“Yeah, you just steal mine.” Wilson coughed and took the apartment key. “See you later tonight.”

House waved him off. He’d get the story behind what happened between Wilson and his wife out of him while they innocently watched a movie and ate popcorn.

End

[krazykat]

You write a wonderful House! For your first House-fic it was really good and had me chuckling all the way through. Thought you nailed Foreman really well!

[silentdreamer789]

You write a wonderful House! For your first House-fic it was really good and had me chuckling all the way through. Thought you nailed Foreman really well!

Loved it! Particularly the last line, House would never give up that easily!

[Kiwifruit]

This is so cool!! I can totally see this on the show Well done!!

[ooo]

That was lovely, thank you – I'm such a sucker for sick-Wilson, too, and you write the characters very well!

[Cerulean Flower]

I agree with the other replies. I love Wilson and your story is very well written. Great job!

[DaylightStarr]

SQUEEE!! Thank you all. I'm so glad you liked it. It was a lot of fun to write.

[scent]

SQUEEE!! Thank you all. I'm so glad you liked it. It was a lot of fun to write.

Great story. I'd love to give him some a little TLC. (wink)

[tma]

Just re-reading and wanted to let you know again that I *Loved* this. You nailed Foreman- and I loved the whole lunch exchange. *grins*

[sapphiremint]

Sorry, I know I'm resurrecting a like 6 year old post but I just really want to praise the writing of this fic because man, you got all of the characters spot on. It was like I was watching another episode. I've read and re-read this fic so many times and it never ceases to impress. I always love me a sick & sneezy wilson. <3