Dark Redux, Part 1.14 -- Control
Feb. 1st, 2009 10:48 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
darkdreamerGot my internets back!!!!! :D *bounces* Yea!!!!!!! :D
And I've got another update for you guys, hope you enjoy it :)
*hugs*
DoS
Title: Dark Redux
Episode: 1.14 -- Control
Beta:
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misanthropicobs Disclaimer: House, Wilson, and all other characters/ideas taken from the show are not my own, and I'm making no profit from the writing of this fiction -- just for fun, I promise. :P (Some dialogue this chapter taken directly from the episode.)
Pairing: House/Wilson
Rating: PG-13
Author's Note: In this particular 'verse, I've changed one thing about the canon timeline. At the beginning of the story, when House and Wilson first get together, Wilson is already recently divorced from Julie.
Story Warnings: slash, dark Wilson eventually -- specific warnings for each chapter as necessary
Chapter Warnings: none, really; Wilson is dark and manipulative and menacing, but not outright violent in this chapter :P
Story Summary: A darker version of how canon might have gone, if House and Wilson had entered into a relationship from the start -- and if that relationship took a gradually dark, disturbing turn.
Chapter Summary: Wilson is worried about the new Chairman of the Board. House is not. Wilson finds this frustrating.
“You do the cases you want to do, when you want to do them. You’re not going to get that anywhere else.”
House had known that this conversation would eventually take place from the moment when he had seen the accusing look of disapproval cast his way by the new Chairman of the Board in the hall outside his office. He tried to tune out Wilson’s lecture as they made their way down the hall, but he knew that sooner or later, he would have to listen to it anyway.
There was no escape.
And if I can’t avoid it, might as well get it out of the way…
Still… doesn’t mean I have to like it…
“Relax. I’ve been through three regime changes in this hospital. Every time, same story.”
Wilson did not sound reassured, casting a dark look in House’s direction as he replied. “Just keep your head down, that’s all I’m saying. And put on your coat.”
“It itches.”
House deliberately infused his excuse with an extra dose of whining, making light of Wilson’s concerns to show how little he was intimidated by Vogler and the changes he seemed determined to make. Wilson was always cautious, always worried about something, and House, as usual, made a very deliberate point of not caring.
But apparently, today, Wilson was not happy with House’s version of “business as usual”.
“This isn’t a joke, House,” he snapped, and House looked up at him sharply, vaguely alarmed by the quick anger that had arisen in his voice. “This man has the power to destroy you if he feels like it – and if you keep going this way, you’re going to make him feel like it. Why does your default mode always seem to be set on whatever is most likely to make people want to hurt you?”
House shrugged, feigning indifference, though a worrying, sick sensation was starting to form in the pit of his stomach.
“Keeps things interesting.”
As he spoke, they reached the corner to turn toward House’s office. Before he could round the corner, however, House was startled as Wilson suddenly stepped in front of him, blocking his progress with a hand against the wall directly in his path. House looked up at him warily, unsettlingly reminded of the way Wilson had slammed him into the wall in fury a couple of weeks earlier.
Wilson had not exhibited any signs of violence since that time, and House had nearly convinced himself that nothing like that would happen again. Still, with Wilson’s temper clearly rising, it was hard to keep from thinking of the similarities between Wilson’s mood that night, and the dark sparks of fury blazing in his eyes now.
Wilson’s voice was solemn and softly intimate, his eyes locked onto House’s, as he leaned in close.
“It is possible to be too interesting, House,” he reminded him. “I know this goes completely against your nature, but sometimes it really is best to just blend into the crowd with the rest of us normal people.”
House studied Wilson’s face with wide, cautious eyes, trying to read any possible danger signs there – and surprisingly, finding none. Wilson’s anger seemed to have gradually faded as he spoke, and he was actually smiling slightly, a sort of affectionate desire mingled with patient understanding in his eyes as he leaned in slightly closer. He glanced slyly up and down the hallway before meeting House’s eyes with rueful amusement. Their very close proximity seemed to be having a rather unexpected effect on Wilson – and the knowledge of Wilson’s sudden desire had a similar effect on House.
“Yeah, and making out in the hallway outside my office – not exactly a perfect example of blending in, is it?” House smirked, allowing himself to relax slightly as Wilson’s mood seemed to shift back to something more pleasant.
Wilson shook his head with an exaggerated sigh of disappointment. “Which is the only reason we’re not making out in the hallway outside your office right now.” Wilson stepped back, lowering his hand from the wall as he took a second backward step toward his own office, his secretive smile widening slightly.
“Of course… I wouldn’t be opposed to a… a visit, in a little while… once things are under control with your patient. We could… discuss the proper rules for… interoffice relationships… under the new regime.”
House could not suppress his own smirk at Wilson’s weak, somewhat goofy attempt at sexy, suggestive double-speak. He nodded once without a word, meeting Wilson’s eyes in a warm, wordless exchange before turning and making his way into his own office.
*************************
“Okay, see… now you’re just being stubborn. It’s cold. Perfectly good excuse to wear your lab coat.”
Wilson looked up as House approached him at the table where he sat in the courtyard, looking over a patient’s chart. There was mild amusement and gentle reproof in his voice, and he was unable to conceal a slight smile of amusement at House’s continued stubborn refusal to comply with Vogler’s arbitrary demands. However, Wilson’s smile faded when he noticed the troubled, pensive expression on House’s face.
“Carly needs a heart transplant.”
Puzzled, Wilson questioned House briefly, trying to figure out how he had come to that conclusion and why it was the source of such a dismal mood; but House’s answers were evasive, and seemed to lead him in an ineffectual circle, yielding only enough information to make Wilson worry. Finally, frustrated, Wilson sighed, shaking his head as he looked up at House, at a loss.
“Since when do I need the secret pass code to talk to you?”
“I can’t tell you anything. Professional responsibility.”
Wilson frowned, suspicion building in his eyes as he studied House’s face. Guiltily, House turned away from him, clearing his throat self-consciously. Wilson rose slowly from his seat, moving around to stand directly in front of House, eyes narrowed as he tried to see past House’s inscrutable expression to the underlying motives it concealed.
“House,” he asked softly at last. “What are you doing?”
House shook his head, his eyes lowered, refusing to meet Wilson’s searching gaze. “Nothing you need to worry about.”
“No, see… I think I do need to worry about it,” Wilson argued, his tone quiet, calm and measured. “I think that anything you might be doing… or thinking about doing… that’s an issue when it comes to your professional responsibility… is something I need to worry about, and you need to worry about, because you don’t want to be doing anything that’s going to give Vogler any additional ammunition against you. Because, let’s face it – if he takes the time to look for it, he’s already got plenty.”
“I get it, okay?” House’s tone was irritated and defensive, and he jerked away from the gentle hand Wilson extended toward his arm. “I’m one giant walking legal liability, and he’s gonna try to get rid of me. But as long as he hasn’t gotten rid of me yet – I have a patient to treat. You wanna talk professional responsibility? My professional responsibility is to make sure that she lives – and that’s what I’m going to do!”
“House… that’s very commendable. I get that, I really do – but unless you want this patient to be the last life you save – you can’t be taking unnecessary risks with your career to save someone who… well…” Wilson’s mouth twisted into an apologetic grimace as he finished, obviously aware of how distasteful his words were, “… might not be… deserving of that great a risk.”
“Who decides whether or not she’s deserving?” House objected, eyes blazing with defiant anger as he met Wilson’s gaze with a challenging look. “You?”
“No,” Wilson replied firmly, shaking his head. “No… I don’t know her. I have no idea what she deserves… or why.” He was quiet for a moment, his voice earnest and patient as he concluded, “What I do know… is that you don’t deserve to lose your career because you were trying to do the right thing, when I don’t think you’re really even sure what that is right now. The dozens or maybe hundreds of people you’ll save in the future don’t deserve to die because you took a reckless and unnecessary risk on this one.”
Touched by Wilson’s words of praise, support, and concern, House was silent, his eyes averted.
“Just this once… do what you have to do to protect yourself. Okay?”
House did not respond, still undecided. Wilson placed a hand on House’s arm, shaking it just slightly to draw his attention – and this time, House did not pull away.
“Okay?” Wilson repeated in a tone of muted urgency.
At last, House nodded with reluctant acceptance. “Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.”
*************************
It was a promise House knew he couldn’t keep from the moment he made it.
Regardless of Wilson’s concerns, or his own promise, House knew that he would continue to try to find out the truth about Carly, whether or not she really wanted to live – and that once he found out the answer to that question, he would do whatever that answer dictated to be the right thing for his patient.
“You lied, didn’t you?”
Wilson’s voice was quiet, but sharp and accusing as he stood in the doorway to House’s office.
With exaggerated conviction, not turning away from the window, House declared, “I never lie.”
Wilson was not amused. His voice was calm but cold and angry as he replied, not acknowledging House’s words.
“Big mistake.”
“Then you should have voted against putting her on the list,” House pointed out, turning at last to face Wilson as he walked further into House’s office.
“Are you kidding?” Wilson spat out in indignant disbelief. “You expected me to vote against you? I’m your freakin’ boyfriend, House!”
“Oh, geez. Have some backbone. If you think I’m wrong, do something.”
Wilson’s brow creased in a disbelieving frown. “Wait… you’re getting mad at me for sticking up for you?”
With a derisive sneer, House turned away from Wilson again, staring sightlessly out the window into the rain. “You value our relationship more than your ethical responsibilities.”
House’s back was turned, so he missed Wilson’s startled blink at those words – and the following steeling of his jaw, the cold narrowing of his eyes as he readied himself to strike back, and with far greater potency and painful accuracy than House used.
“Our relationship is an ethical responsibility.”
His eyes widening with hurt at those stinging words, House spun around to face Wilson, his lips already parted for a biting retort. He immediately jumped backward, however, startled by Wilson’s unexpected nearness. In utter silence, Wilson had crossed the room until he now stood a mere two feet away from House, his jaw clenched with repressed fury, his dark eyes blazing with accusation.
“You really don’t ever think about anyone but yourself, do you, House?” he snarled, his voice low and full of angry disgust. “I warned you about taking reckless actions like this, risking your career for one patient; but the truth is, you really don’t care about your career, do you? You really wouldn’t care if you dragged my career right down along with you.”
Wilson gradually edged nearer to House as he spoke, his voice lowering in volume but rising in intensity as he closed what little space remained between them, biting off his words with bitter judgment in his tone.
“You are a selfish… childish… bastard, who can’t bring himself to think for one second about the one person who cares about you more than anything else in the world, and maybe take a little care to protect my reputation for a change. No, when it all comes down to it, you’re just in it for the win, aren’t you, House? Just so long as you come out on top – nothing else matters. No one else.”
House swallowed hard, his eyes lowered, struggling past the cold, roiling sense of shame inspired by Wilson’s words. He shook his head slowly, his voice hoarse and hesitant when he finally responded.
“That’s… that’s not true…”
“Please,” Wilson sneered, cutting him off sharply with a disgusted up-and-down look. “You’re not really that stupid, House. You know as well as I do that’s what this is about. Making your point, that you’re still going to do whatever the hell you feel like doing, regardless of Vogler and his plans – that he can’t stop you, no matter how much fuel you give him to use against you. If you really believe that, House…”
Wilson leaned in close, one hand braced against the wall, so that he was mere inches from House’s face, and House instinctively backed up against the wall, his eyes still focused on Wilson’s shoes, as Wilson bit off his words with repressed fury and contempt.
“… then maybe… maybe you’re not as smart as I thought you were.”
House flinched slightly at those words – an almost imperceptible expression of hurt and uncertainty – but Wilson caught it, and had House been looking up, he would have caught the slight twitch at the corners of his mouth that betrayed his satisfaction at House’s reaction.
“Well, I’m telling you now, House – do what you like. But I am through protecting you when you don’t even appreciate it – when you can’t even pretend to care to protect me when you have the chance.”
“I… I wasn’t thinking about it like that,” House tried again, his voice quiet and unusually subdued. “I just wanted to make sure she lived. I didn’t think…”
“No, House, you didn’t think,” Wilson snapped, slamming his hand against the wall beside House’s head in frustration, privately taking another thrill of satisfaction from the way House jerked slightly in reaction to the violent gesture. Backing off, Wilson shook his head in disgust. “You never do.”
“I’m sorry…”
House murmured, noting in a vague, detached way that he had used those words more in the last few weeks than he had used them in the previous forty-five years of his life. It didn’t seem to matter to Wilson, however, as he turned his back abruptly with a dismissive wave of his hand, heading for the door.
“Save it,” he snapped. “I’ve got work to do.”
“How… how much longer do you think you’ll be?”
House’s voice was tentative, and he chose his words carefully, unwilling to ask Wilson directly if their plans for dinner were still on. Judging from Wilson’s mood, House didn’t think he could safely assume that was the case. Wilson easily guessed at his concerns, however, stopping in the doorway to face him for a moment with a cold, derisive look.
“I’m not sure, could be quite a while. Anyway… I’ve suddenly lost my appetite.”
Without looking back, Wilson stalked away to his own office, leaving House’s head spinning, his stomach churning, as he struggled to comprehend what had just happened, and how he had managed to once again ruin Wilson’s mood and destroy the peaceful contentment that had existed between them.
TBC...
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no subject
Date: 2009-02-01 05:21 pm (UTC)Can't wait for the next update!
x
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Date: 2009-02-05 05:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-01 05:43 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-05 05:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-01 05:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-05 05:35 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-01 07:28 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-05 05:36 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-01 08:20 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2009-02-01 10:21 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-05 05:37 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-02 04:34 am (UTC)I especially loved the part in House's office where Wilson gets ridiculously self-righteous and the monster in him stirs: “No, House, you didn’t think,” Wilson snapped, slamming his hand against the wall beside House’s head in frustration, privately taking another thrill of satisfaction from the way House jerked slightly in reaction to the violent gesture.
That gave me a sweet little stir in the pit of my stomach. Why do I like violent Wilson so much? You're doing great!
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Date: 2009-02-05 05:39 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-02 12:13 pm (UTC)Nice one. Bitching at House about being a selfish bastard for saving a life and not doing what Wilson wanted him to do. Very mature. Very much.
I see the control is trying to outgrow House's personal life and entering his work ethics. Interesting, and I have a feeling this will get mighty disturbing in the future.
I appload the last sentence - the guilt is fully ingraned in House, that's for sure.
Wonderful work.
Oh, and I have a question (asked it before, but you didn't answer) - are you going to write a redo of all the episodes or just season one?
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Date: 2009-02-05 05:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-12 07:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-12 11:02 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-04-09 09:31 am (UTC)But brilliant as ever! x
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Date: 2009-04-09 10:35 pm (UTC)