Title: Lonely Hour
Characters: House, Wilson
Word Count: 950
Summary: Wilson reflects on his friendship with House, and writes a letter. The previous vignettes, in order, are: Visiting Hour, Happy Hour, Midnight Hour, Fifty-Minute Hour, Random Hour, Painful Hour, Dark Hour , Desperate Hour, and Witching Hour .
But this letter, like all the others, isn’t going anywhere. It’s just a… coping mechanism, recommended by Dr. Ambegley.
He hasn’t seen House for several weeks—not since House had shown up the day
Debbie had confessed, later, that House called daily for an update, but had asked them not to tell
Sometimes it bothers
But it’s okay, really, that House stays so distant. It means that House will never learn about
Been a while since you’ve visited; you haven’t missed a whole lot here. Except for Tuesday. I did something selfish, and I think it might surprise you.
You’re always accusing me of wanting to be a martyr, putting you and everyone else before myself. Tuesday night, though, I put myself first—in a big way. I decided I didn’t want to deal with any of this anymore. So I tried to kill myself. Pretty dramatic, huh?
After I’d taken the pills, though, I remembered what I’d known all along. And—since you’ll never see this letter—I’m going to be honest here. I couldn’t go through with it, because I couldn’t leave you. You’re a jerk, House—but you’re my best friend. And I worry about you. So, I figured, if I weren’t around to keep you in line, you’d do something really stupid, and it would be my fault. I couldn’t live with that, even if I were dead. Yeah—stupid joke; I know. So anyway, you saved my life last Tuesday.
That’s pretty much the only thing that’s happened since I saw you last. I’m not going to tell you that I miss you—not even in a letter you’ll never see—because I really don’t miss you. Don’t get annoyed by that; I don’t ever miss you because you’re always here, that’s all. Any time I need to, I just close my eyes. Then, I can hear you insulting me, see you stealing my food, interrupting a patient’s appointment. Guess that last thing won’t ever happen again, but I do look forward to the day when you again call me a moron as you steal the last french fry off my plate.
But he understands why House isn’t here. That day another prisoner had injured
He wasn’t angry; he was scared. For me. Figured if the thing with Tritter hadn’t happened, I wouldn’t have been here to be hurt. In House’s mind, his weird logic—makes all of it his fault.
And if he doesn’t visit, he isn’t reminded of what he thinks he’s done to me, to my life. If he acknowledged it, he’d break. Wouldn’t do a bit of good to tell him he didn’t do anything wrong—it’d just make him angry.
“Damn it, House,”
And on to Dinner Hour
You kids are not gonna believe this! The phenomenal nightdog_barks has written an exquisite vignette of her own, a companion piece to the Hour series. I'm so flattered, and so impressed. AND she has graciously given me permission to link to it, so that you may enjoy it as well, and get a fuller picture of Wilson's current situation. Therefore, without further ado, I present to you The Visitor.