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Cats' Corners: the little HOUSE in the woods....
Where House is NEVER safe...
Sneek Peek At The (as yet unnamed) Sequel 
15th-Jun-2007 06:14 am

House sleeps for almost an hour. Wilson’s more than content to sit silently by the bed, just watching him sleep.  For the first fifteen minutes, Wilson had tried to put a name, a description, to the tangle of emotions racing through his body, his heart, his exhausted mind.  As soon as he stops trying, it comes to him.


He’s a father, eyes glued to his infant in wonder and fear—wonder at discovering all over again how amazing life can be; fear that if he dares look away from this gift, even for an instant, the breathing will cease.


Wilson chuckles to himself at his own sense of drama—but still, he doesn’t look away.  So when House awakens, the first things he focuses on are the concerned brown eyes that are focused so intently on him.


“Just took a refresher course at Flight School, I see.”


Wilson’s momentarily confused, and then he remembers House’s ‘hovering’ metaphor, and he groans.  “House, the whole helicopter thing was cute the first time, but—wait; actually, it wasn’t cute.  You had a roomful of worried doctors convinced that you were delirious, or hallucinating, or both!”


House rolls his eyes and begins to adjust his position in bed.  Wilson winces in anticipatory sympathy when House inadvertently hits his injured right index finger against the siderail, but House doesn’t even flinch.


“Hey—cool!” House says.  “Must’ve been out a lot longer than I thought, slept through the whole depressing ‘pain before gain’ thing.  How long was I out, anyway?”


Cold fear zings through Wilson’s body.  “Why do you ask?” he says slowly, staring at House.


“Because my hand doesn’t hurt anymore—not even that twitchy nerve in the finger,” House says cheerfully.  Then he sees Wilson’s face, and his smile fades, and—his eyes still locked with Wilson’s—he swiftly, sharply, deliberately strikes his right hand into the siderail.


“My hand doesn’t hurt,” House says, “because… I can’t feel it.”

15th-Jun-2007 04:46 pm (UTC)
Don't tell me House is going to be at death's door again

oh, no--not at ALL; that's a promise! he may, however, spend some time wishing he were dead! ;)
17th-Jun-2007 02:40 am (UTC)
You DO, of course remember..he is a pianist. Needs his hands. Those lovely, long, musicians hands... (sigh)
17th-Jun-2007 11:58 am (UTC)
ohhhh, yeah--i remember. and that will figure into the sequel, too. as a matter of fact, just because you've brought it up, and we are sisters in caring, i'll share with you another paragraph from the first chapter of the (as yet unnamed) sequel! here ya go:

“Your hands are shaking,” House observes.

“Yeah—too much coffee,” Wilson says as he takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and forces himself to turn off his emotions. When he reopens his eyes, the damaged right hand he’s holding belongs to a patient—just a patient. It’s not attached to his already crippled best friend, who happens to be a doctor, a pianist, a biker. Who happens to be right handed, and to rely on a cane for his mobility.
18th-Jun-2007 03:33 am (UTC)
Oh my... Wow...

I've re-read the whole story a few times and I just love noticing small things that in my excitement and haste I must have just missed.

I'm holding off begging for another week :)
18th-Jun-2007 09:57 am (UTC)
I'm holding off begging for another week :)

don't worry; you didn't miss that extra paragraph from the first chapter of the sequel; i just put it up yesterday afternoon!