snowblindrpg | [log] Fresh Poison Each Week [closed]

Entry tags:

[log] Fresh Poison Each Week [closed]

Characters: House, Wilson, Hannibal, Will, Ecks
Location: Building 317
Date: Morning 356
Summary: Post-event recovery
Warnings: Hannibal-related warnings, plus event-related: fingernail horror, toothloss, cannibalism, vomiting, forced feeding, PTSD, mental instability, hallucinations, are possible to come up.

[Judging from the outside, this was definitely a house, but going inside, it seems to have been converted into something like an infirmary. There are a lot of metal tables neatly arranged in the living room and kitchen, and the bedroom has a mattress lightly-stained with blood: it seems like someone at least tried to clean the thing up as best they could, and even flipped it over so the cleaner side is on top. The toilet and shower still work: the shower even has hot water. Makeshift shelves have been attached to one of the walls.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I know Vanitas and Thomas have been over there. No idea who else. If they've been there, they haven't mentioned it. [Which would make sense if they weren't able to find anything useful or open it.

House takes another drags off his cigarette and eyes Wilson from the corner of his eye. He weighs the benefits of pushing a little bit. Pushing because when Wilson was here last time, House hadn't pushed and a part of him feels like the other man hadn't been prepared to really deal with Norfinbury.]

You realize you're dead back home, right? Or virtually dead. You don't have to keep following my lead. I appreciate it and I'm right and all, but if you wanna do something else... speak up.

[ That reminder is enough to get Wilson to take a few drags of his cigarette as well. He shoots his friend a flat look. ]

No, House, I hadn't realized that. In fact, I forgot all about the fact that if I ever get to leave here, I'll be going back only to die.

[ Too harsh? Well, this is one thing he doesn't feel like sugarcoating. ]

I'm going along with you because sometimes you have some good ideas.

[He's brought the bitterness on himself, but that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt to hear. And that he doesn't resent Wilson just the tiniest bit for it. Wilson is getting the easy side of things. He just has to die! House is the one who has to keep living!

Before his time here, House might have lashed out with that, pointed out that Wilson is getting borrowed time, that whatever he's feeling now is nothing compared to what House will feel when he's gone. Again. Because he's already gone through losing Wilson once here. But it's nearly a year of hell, of making confidants against his better judgment and having them die, of watching little kids be traumatized constantly, of having the foundation of many of his convictions ripped out from beneath him.]

I'm sorry. [House's voice goes quieter, the way it does when he's actually being sincere, rather than faking it.] For what it's worth... I don't think any of us are leaving alive. [Cold comfort.]

Edited 2018-06-07 14:15 (UTC)

[ One look at House, and Wilson regrets saying anything at all. It's not his place, is it? He's supposed to be the pillar, which is funny considering those are the exact words House used to refer to himself when he insisted on crashing Wilson's appointment. Part of him still wishes House had gone to the parking lot to "be a pillar", as he'd put it.

Really, he does have it easy. House, on the other hand, doesn't. ]

No, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that.

[ He looks up at House when he says those words, and he shakes his head. ]

You have to.

[ If they don't get out alive, then what was the point of anything? ]

I'm apologizing to you. You get one of those freebies a month, max. Don't cheapen it with your guilt complex. [That's offered with an irritated glance. There are times when he appreciates that guilt complex and mercilessly manipulated it. And then there are times like this when he feels like it just gets in the way.] You're dying. It sucks ass. You're allowed to be an asshole about it. [God knows House would be.]

And there's nothing we have to do apart from get to the center and find out what the hell actually happened here. That and maybe shutting down whatever machine is bringing people here is the only thing that matters.

Oh, right, how could I forget your generosity? Well, I'd better not mess it up. It's going to be a long month. [ House gets an irritated glance right back, but there's not really much fire behind it. ] Yeah, but- for whatever it's worth, and it probably isn't much, what you've got sucks way worse.

[ It's not much, and it's probably not reassuring, but Wilson's not currently filling the role of the doctor trying to console the sick patient. That doesn't work on him, unfortunately. It's ironic that he's reassured so many of his actual patients, but it doesn't work that way when he's the one who's sick.

And on one hand, he wants to kick himself for not being more reassuring for House's sake, but no amount of positive thinking or affirmation is going to make the situation suck any less. ]

Okay, but after you've done that, you'd better get out of here alive. Then maybe you can motorcycle off to Spain, set up shop doctoring when you feel like it, and find someone hot to sleep with.

[ That last one is thrown in almost as an afterthought. It sounds like something House would do. ]

[House doesn't comment on the first part because he really doesn't disagree, but he has just enough tact for his friend not to rub it in. His life is miserable, this is just one more thing to pile on, really. The next part is more interesting, anyway, and it has House raising his brows as he takes another drag and puffs out smoke.]

Funnily enough, they haven't built that fancy-ass Pacific Chunnel to Europe when I'm from. And I haven't got the chops to play James Bond for one of them fancy-ass convertible to Sea-Doo bikes. South America's more likely. More my kinda peeps, anyway. Especially if I'm gonna get laid. [Which is probably the most bizarre 'last request' House has ever heard.] Is there some reason you want me to do that, bee tee dubs? Just living the adulterer life vicariously from beyond the grave? Didn't you say I was married?

[Sham marriage, though it might be.]

Well, there is such a thing as planes with room for cargo, but I guess if you're dead-set against going to Spain, South America is just as good.

[ He's just going to shrug. ]

No reason, except for trying to think of things you'd like to do if time was no longer an issue. And yeah, you're married, but it's not like you're chained up to her or anything.

[ He's reasonably sure Dominika's skipped town, or at least found someone else she likes better. ]

I did Spain and Europe and everything that direction as a kid. Don't need the reminders. [His father had never been stationed in South America, which made it the far preferable destination. There were also plenty of interesting, infectious diseases. He is rather fascinated by the direction of Wilson's thoughts, though.]

Anyway, I'd probably swear off sex for at least, like... a week after you die. Bro Code of honor. [He sets the cigarette between his lips and offers Wilson a fist to bump.]

Oh, right. Sorry, I forgot about that. [ House doesn't talk about it often, so sometimes the details slip Wilson's mind. ]

A week without sex. Wow, I'm touched, House. Really. [ He is, too. For House, that's monumental. He bumps his fist against House's without hesitating. ]

[And for good reason, as far as House is concerned. This place has had a way of dragging out his personal life and the details thereof in an extremely public way, though. Perhaps it's a little easier to talk about for that. Cold comfort. He just smirks as Wilson returns the bump.]

Only for you. Unless your dying wish is for me to go and get laid, like, immediately, while thinking of you. I could- [He breaks off as he realizes what he just said and how that might sound.] Pretend that was at least 50% less gay.

[ It seems that being here has only made the list of things they don't talk about grow longer. Wilson just assumes House would rather not talk about the time he got de-aged and was detoxing at the same time, as an example. ]

Actually, my dying wish is more along the lines of you getting a second chance and finding ways to enjoy yourself. So yes, if that includes you getting laid, then I'm not going to say anything.

[ He pauses and then laughs. ]

I thought I was the one who was secretly gay for you.

Oh, please, like that's a secret. Everyone in the hospital knows you're madly in love with me. That's what all the nurses who don't want in your pants say, anyway. [It's quick, reflexive banter, but House does glance away after throwing out a casual roll of his eyes, focusing on his cigarette as it burns down to the filter.]

Fine. [Moving on because this is territory that is making him suddenly very awkward internally, even if that's not reflecting externally.] In the incredibly unlikely event that I not only get outta here, but also retain my memories, I'll do the whole 'second chance' thing. And bang a really hot hooker after pouring one out for you. Provided I don't get you into treatment sooner and we never even have to deal with you dying.

Edited 2018-06-15 22:10 (UTC)

And just how much of that is because you were whispering juicy bits of gossip in every willing ear that would listen? Rumors all have to start somewhere, and you do love your drama.

[ But yes, moving on. ] Thanks, House, that's all I could really hope for.

[ As for getting him into treatment... ]

Stranger things have happened. Maybe in your timeline, it'll get caught earlier.

[ Or not. He's resigned himself to what's coming, more or less. ]

Edited 2018-06-17 02:22 (UTC)

[His timeline. Right. It's important to remember that this isn't his Wilson. If he goes back, he's going back alone. Wilson and Amber won't remember because they're from parallel universes.]

The Admin might've cured you. [It's said quickly, quietly.] We get out of here and these are actually the bodies they send us back in, your cancer is cured.

[ Oh, look, if that isn't a sudden burst of hope. Not that Wilson is looking for any reason to not be resigned to his death, but when put forward so plainly, it's hard not to grab onto it. ]

You think that's even a possibility? It feels a lot like a long shot. [ Which he's certain House knows. ]

There are nanomachines inside your brain that can control what you do, think, and remember. Pretty sure a perma-cure for cancer's not outside the realm of possibility. I don't think these are our real bodies, but maybe they're close enough, if it's not just a consciousness transference that brought us here.

Well, there's not much else I can do except hope that's the case. We won't know for sure until we leave.

[ If they leave. ]

I won't be complaining if that turns out to be the case.

[ Then House's life won't implode, and Wilson won't be dead. It sounds unbelievable when put that way. ]

[It's pretty damn unbelievable, in general. And House isn't really the type to hope. Hoping leads to pain, the kind that Vicodin can't fix except in excess quantities. Still, he'll just keep some of his thoughts to himself for once.]

You won't be complaining if it doesn't. Death's a great way to shut people up.

[He stubs out the smoldering remains of his cigarette and flicks the butt over into the corner.]

Anyway, I'm gonna go sleep. [Or at least lie down and attempt it.] Nighty-night.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[log] Fresh Poison Each Week [closed]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject