snowblindrpg | [network] @ADMIN; Arrival

[House bristles.]

So, you're blaming me for something that happens, what? Three freaking years in the future? Yeah, that seems fair.

[He can't compete with a dead lover. Wilson is going to want to go to her, memory issues or not. He wants out of these tunnels, and he wants her. There's only one thing to do: Push him away before he leaves.]

Whatever. [House waves a hand dismissively.] Go deliver the food and then run away to play her hero, Don Juan. Like I care. I was fine for four months without you, and you've done practically nothing since you got here apart from cut down some webbing.

[Wilson sees exactly what House is doing. This is a facet of his personality that certainly hasn't changed over time. On any other day, Wilson would be able to recover, to handle this calmly. He's always got to be the voice of reason because it's not as if House will check his tongue.

But not today. His thoughts are racing too quickly to give a damn about calm.]

Oh, don't you lecture me about what's fair. I can't blame you, even three years in your future. Three years that you have, God, you have no right to make assumptions about. You're not deducing, you're not--[He pauses here, tripping over his words for a moment before finding his footing again. He holds up his hands. Give him a second.]--riddling out or solving some grand puzzle. You haven't even met Amber. You can't possibly, possibly know what's fair.

[Wilson blows out a shaky breath and places his hands on his hips, willing himself to get it together.] Don't make this about you, House. Don't.

You're the one making it about me. I said go. You got your girl back. Mazel tov! [There's sarcasm dripping from that.] Except, oops, it looks like girl doesn't know who you are. Unless she's in the habit of offering friends with benefits to any asshole off the Internet. I know enough about her at this point to know she's not your usual type.

Is she the one who's supposed to stick? Is that what this is about? She's different, so she matters more, and I'm responsible for destroying that as far as you're concerned. But you can't blame me because it was circumstances. I didn't hold a gun to her head.

So golden boy Dr. Wilson goes into a spiral of wanting to blame someone, lashing out, and you've got no one. Just me.

[There's a pause as he mentally backtracks through their first conversation.] You quit your practice to get away from me. [He lets out a disbelieving laugh.]

Edited 2016-10-16 07:02 (UTC)

[Wilson drops his head into his hands and keeps it there through the duration of House's tirade. How can he possible be so right about all of this? How? If anything in this conversation is unfair, it's that he has three years on his friend and yet House still, miraculously, has the leg up.

When House is done, Wilson just shakes his head. What's he supposed to say? Reluctantly, he opens up House's conversation with Amber. He knows what he'll find there, but his heart drops anyway.]

She doesn't remember that we were together, no. Which, by the way, is hard enough to take in without your help. Thanks for that.

[He scrubs a hand over his eyes. How did they get here?] Let's just say you're right about all of the above and be done with it. What does it matter? Like you said, it's in your future. It's none of your concern.

The future's my concern when it affects my present. Your future times are presently shoving themselves into my present. [House spreads his hands, tone still a distinctive sneer.] Whether it's conscious or unconscious, you still blame me for something I haven't even done, yet. And surprise, if by some insane chance we go back with our memories intact, we're not going to the same universe. Everything here? There's a split. Divergent timelines, divergent universes. I will never be the guy who gets her killed for you.

Now I know it happens, I'll avoid it. Because believe it or not, I don't actually like watching you suffer when it's not funny. [House digs in his pocket for his bottle of Vicodin and pops a pill, dry swallowing it. Of course, by this logic, Amber is going back to another universe that's going to be split. If he's lucky, he'll get maybe three or four months with her here.]

Oh, stop. You're not telling me anything I don't already know. [Except for the bit about their memories, which makes sense, though he hadn't considered it before.

His words have some bite to them, but when he shoots House a look, he's just tired. This is a losing battle and he knows it.]

Is all of this supposed to help? To make it easier? [He lets out a humorless laugh.] You, of all people, should understand that it doesn't work like that. Didn't you hear me? I don't blame you. I tried. Believe me, I tried. It would've been a hell of a lot easier if I could've just--just labelled you responsible. Then at least I would know where the mistakes were, where things went wrong. Instead, it was... [The words are stuck in his throat. He shakes his head, waving a hand around to buy himself some time.]

Some kind of freak accident. She--both of you, you were just in the wrong place at the wrong time.

[House stares Wilson down.]

You don't blame, you just quietly resent that life isn't fair and let it build up and fester and then apparently leave your practice. ['And me,' goes unsaid. Because it would sound stupid. It's not like he needs Wilson for anything practical at PPTH. There are other oncologists. He has a team to bounce ideas off of. There's Cuddy to nag him...

House looks away with a tsk. So what made Wilson come back? Spending time together on the way to a funeral? That sounds like the plot of some bromance road trip movie.]

This is stupid. You're leaving in the morning. We don't need to bother organizing a meet-up point on your way out. I'm staying in the tunnels. I need to find out what's going on with the eye symbols. [And that... that, at least, isn't a lie. His thoughts are fixated on that problem when he's left to is own devices here. He needs an answer. He needs to solve whatever puzzle is in these tunnels.]

Look, when the woman you love is suddenly killed in a bus crash, then you can tell me all about how irrational my reaction was. Leaving the hospital was a mistake. I figured that out on my own. [He runs his hands through his hair, suddenly very annoyed at how disgusting he feels. It's not helping.

It takes him a moment to process House's plan. He hadn't considered what their next step would be. House can't really be okay with them parting ways, Wilson knows that, but he's also... not wrong.]

Um. I need to, ah, I need to get these supplies to Hange and everyone first. [He keeps his head in one hand as he motions to the rations Ecks left at the entrance to the Pass.] Are you sure you want to split up?

[No, he wants Wilson here to make sure that he isn't going to do something moronic that will get him killed or taken advantage of. Like that's ever going to get said, though. House retreats into his regular sarcastic petulance.]

No, you figured it out when you dragged me to a funeral. [Which means House was involved in it in some capacity. That is moderately satisfying.]

And I'm sure I don't need a babysitter to nag me, in-person. There's this magical thing called the network. You can nag someone from miles away. [Or make sure they're not dead...] Anyway, I'm not leaving the tunnels. You are. That pretty much decides the whole splitting up thing. Unless you can be two places at once. And if you can, I'm calling bullshit on you being the one to find the time-turner.

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