"Accidents Happen" N. Smith Oneshot

"i don't hate you" k. bakugo mha smau

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Summary: He might hate you, he might not ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ All you know is that you are on cloud 9

Warnings: Vulgar language, weed

A/N: This was so late, sorry guys 😭

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"Inseparable" Part Four

Nobody questioned Patrick’s return when they saw him, especially considering he’d disappeared like that before. The next day consisted of skipping their weekend detention and hanging around in the junkyard that Y/N's cousin owned, and getting high while playing golf there.

When she got home though, she immediately thought of Nicole and how she had acted weird on their last call. Why did Nicole get awkward when she mentioned the clown? Y/N flopped on her bed as a headache started up, and she sat up to take off her dirty boots and socks.

She let her hair down from her ponytail to try to get some of the head pressure relieved, and stood up to walk to her dresser where she took off all her jewelry and placed it there.

Her mind still raced with her thoughts as she changed into her sleepwear which was just short shorts and one of Patrick’s band shirts that she stole.

Placing her hands on her hips, she clicked her tongue and made her way to her nightstand where her phone was.

Y/N dialed Nicole’s number three times, and each time she got no answer. She looked at her clock and it was only 11pm, meaning she was probably with some boy.

Y/N looked at the rug on her floor while she thought of what to do for the rest of the night. Then she had what she thought was an amazing idea. 

Hey,

I hope you are doing well. I wanted to ask how your grandma is doing in the hospital. I hope she gets better soon.

How are you dealing with your writer's curse? I know it can be tough, but I'm sure you'll find your inspiration again soon. Have a great day/evening! Love you!

Your reader ❤️

Aww, thank you for checking in!

She's doing a lot better now, she's been diagnosed with an autoimmune disease and has been resting. My writers curse does no want to seem to let up, so I've been trying to combat it with some other fics that I've needed to write.

The thing stopping me from writing is that I'm trying to find a way to transition from reader and Patrick arguing to them getting scared by Pennywise, but my brain won't think 😭

It's slowly coming together though, and I can't wait to share it with you!

Have a good day/evening, love you too ❤

"Hot, Cheating Bastard" p. hockstetter Oneshot

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“No, because why would Jordan ask me to the movies if he isn’t going to ask me to be his girlfriend? Like, hello? Ask me out before trying to make plans with me, you feel me?” The dark haired girl licked at her melting ice cream as she looked at the other girl next to her, scoffing and bumping her arm.

“Y/N! Are you even listening to me?” Rosita yelled, and Y/N broke out of her trance. 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. Sorry, I was thinking ‘bout Mrs. Daire’s homework.” Y/N cleared her throat and looked away from the small cafe across from the ice cream shop where her and Rosita were eating their ice cream.

It was an awful hot day in Derry, and Rosita wanted to talk about the new guy she liked while cooling off. So, naturally they decided to have ice cream outside the shop while they did.

But Y/N wasn’t very present as Rosita complained about how Jordan wasn’t doing what she had hoped he would, and Rosita started to notice.

Rosita hummed suspiciously at Y/N as she tried to look at where she was looking, and she had found Y/N’s target. She gasped and whisper-yelled her name, which caused the girl to shush her quickly.

“Him? You’re into him?” Rosita said shocked, her mouth agape and not even caring about the ice cream dripping down her hand, “Of all the hot guys in this town, you choose Patrick Hockestetter?”

“Shut up, Rosie! And no, I don’t think of him that way!” Y/N knew she was lying to her best friend, and she felt bad for it. She always told Rosita about the boys she was seeing, but Patrick wasn’t one of them she could ever say.

Patrick and Y/N had been messing around for weeks, maybe even months, but there were no feelings in any of it. It was just a bit of fooling around when one of them would get bored, nothing else. They agreed to it.

But she knew she was slipping when she was watching Patrick at the cafe with Vivien, both of them laughing and enjoying their time together. Y/N and Patrick weren’t like that, ever.

He’d slip through her bedroom window, they’d sleep together, and they’d be done. Or she’d pull him into one of the alleyways behind the school, and then that was it. 

Y/N was jealous, no matter how much she hated to admit it. It only got worse when she saw Vivien kiss some of the pasta sauce off his cheek that they were eating at the cafe, and then kiss his lips.

Even though Patrick and Y/N had done so much with each other, he’d never kissed her. Y/N pursed her lips and looked at a confused Rosita, and apologized to her. 

“I’m sorry, but I need to go.” Y/N stood up abruptly and threw her ice cream out in one of the trash cans as she made her way over to Patrick, who had been making out with Vivien in public. Outside. For everyone to see.

Which was gross, but she was too blinded by her rage to care. Stomping her way to both of them, she smiled tightly at Patrick when he noticed her presence. 

“Y/N! It’s so nice to see you! Gosh, I haven’t seen you in like, forever. Oh my goodness, we need to catch up.” Vivien spoke to her cheerily, seemingly forgetting about Patrick.

Y/N sighed at her in pretend happiness and agreed, her right hand resting on her hip as she leaned against Vivien’s chair. 

“Yes, we really do! And I hate to be such a bother, but do you mind if I steal Patrick away? I really need him for a project Mrs. Daire’s making us do with partners, and I haven’t been able to reach him all day long.” She pouted, locking eyes with Patrick in anger. He looked at her the same way, obviously upset that she had interrupted. 

“Oh, of course. Patrick, we can pick this up later.” Vivien winked at him, and stood up. She said her farewells to both of them as Patrick and Y/N just stared at each other, not paying attention to her. When Vivien was out of their sight, Y/N grabbed Patricks hand and made him stand up.

“Pay the check, and come with me. Now.”

Y/N slammed Patrick’s car door when they both got in, and then blew up at him when he drove to a secluded spot in the park. 

“What the fuck, Patrick!?” She shouted, turning to face him fully. Patrick snorted at her, bringing his hand to his face to rub at his temple. 

“What the hell are you talkin’ about?” He had an amused look in his eyes, as though he expected this from her. 

“What am I talking about? What was that little date there? Huh? I thought we had something going?” Y/N interrogated him, becoming more and more outraged with every second. He had laughed maniacally then, throwing his head back and resting his hand on his stomach.

“Oh fuck, are you serious right now? You actually thought we were dating? You know we aren’t, right?” He spoke when he calmed down, and then wiped away the tears that had formed when he was laughing. Tears were forming in Y/N’s eyes, though, she had obviously not found the situation as funny as he did. 

“Yeah, Patrick. I did,” She was sniffling, and holding back the waterfalls that would be dripping down her cheeks soon. She looked down to her hands and fiddled with her rings, and she scoffed out a laugh. “I guess I thought you had actual human feelings too. Or at least enough to care about me.” 

Y/N let the tears fall and she wiped them away, shaking her head and reaching to pull the handle of the car to leave. When she did though, the car locked. She looked back at Patrick and then to his hand, where it sat on the lock button.

She grit her teeth and pulled up the lock clip and tried again. He grinned as he locked it again, and the exchange went on for a bit. She cursed him out each time, and then faced him.

“Let me out, Patrick!” She yelled at him, and noticed he had moved his seat to a lying position and that he had put his right arm underneath his head while smiling at her. 

“You done with your tantrum yet, dollface?” Patrick asked her mockingly, putting emphasis on the pet name that she hated so much. She groaned, threw her hands to her face and pulled them down, and then tried the door again. His left hand was still on the button, and he moved his other hand to readjust his jeans.

“We’re both not leaving here until we both get what we want.” He said matter-of-factly, still grinning like the Cheshire Cat. She looked at him in disbelief, and then to his pants, where there was a noticeable tent. 

“Oh, fuck you, Hockstetter.” Y/N spat out, frustrated with him. 

“That is the plan.” He watched her eye his jeans, and they both knew she couldn’t stay upset at him for long. She rolled her eyes, and moved over her seat to sit in his lap and she started to undo his belt. 

“If it helps you feel any better, you’re the only bitch in this Godforsaken town who gives good head. I don’t let anyone else put my cock in their mouth.”

“Shut the fuck up, Patrick.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

hes so odd

when shes the prettiest girl who deserves the world and hes him <3

HELLO HELLO HELLO! I have a fucked up fic request! (heavy heavy angst) because I think my trauma would be a lot more bearable if Dr. Chase were there! (fanfiction about myself? how vain)

so basically, a 19 y/o girl lands herself in the hospital (hi y/n!), her spine is absolutely shattered! why, you may ask? tw domestic abuse! her bf pushed her down the stairs! we can call him Logan. oh! and she had to get 12 stitches on her head from where she fell! yippee!

house complains that this isn't their department, that she just needs a fuckton of work done on her spine (womp wonp bro! it was assignined to you!)

bf visit her every day, always crying, always feeling so guilty about what he's done. house and foreman come in the room, girl is "asleep" and bf I crying, apologizing. house tells him to gtfu, and then foremans all "dumb shit ur gonna wake her!!!!" house leaves! hates patients anyway! girl opens her eyes, says to forman, "don't worry about waking me, I wasn't even asleep.. I jut didn't want to comfort him :\" foreman makes a SNIDE AND RUDE remark. what a cunt, fauwck your foreman !

house yells at foreman in his office!! Dr. Chase I sent down to check on the patient

"I'm Dr. Chase, blah blah blah" "oh I'm okay dw about me!" "I was sent to check on you, one of my colleagues said some pretty harsh things to you.." "it's okay, he probably has a point.. Logan is trying to do the right thing after all...." "the right thing!? he pushed you down the stairs and obliterated your spine! the right thing to do is let you go!" AHAHAHAHA GIRL GOT BPDDDD, SHES NOT GONNA LEAVE AHAHAHAHAHA I HATE MY LIFE

filler shit 🫶

chase walking patient for/to physical therapy, has to take her outside, so she can walk again. needs a freaking cane (yeah ik house... I see u..) patient asks if it's okay for her to smoke. Chase barely registers the question, but goes a little nuts when patient pulls a blunt from her bag. okie dokie cute scene of us getting stoned together :333

back inside! chase and house hallway/office scene. "you smell like teen spirit, chase" "what?" "pot, marijuana, weed, devils lettuce, yknow," "I'm not- I'm not high," "ofc u are!" "House-" "what, it's not my concern," Funish scene so cute so demure

cute chase/patient beside chat !

okay you can stop this fic here ORRRR, GO ON AMD FINISH OUT GLORYFIFING MY TRAUMA!!

--

woah scandal risky chase hooking up with a disabled patient in da hospital?! she got POTS!? she passed out during the act!? HOUSE WILL BE MADDDDD lol

and ofc she goes back to Logan!

okay yeah sorry, you don't have to write this obviously, but it'd be cool if you did thanks, sorry

I like the way you think, magic man.

"Inseparable" Part One

Y/N L/N and Patrick Hockstetter had been friends since they were in kindergarten. Their friendship began the day he gave her a pencil bag filled with dead flies in Mrs. Smith’s class.

He had always enjoyed teasing Y/N, since the minute they met. Yet for some odd reason, she had always tried to befriend him. Nobody understood why, granted he always pulled on her pigtails, but she never minded it. 

They were Derry’s dynamic duo, terrifying twins, even. They were always in the same location. If Patrick was there, Y/N was dragging him along and arguing with him about something stupid. If Y/N was there, Patrick was right next to her, giggling at others' misfortune around them.

They were inseparable. They had a bond no one could ever achieve with them. Nobody understood it, they always fought, bickered, even fist-fought. But they always remained together, no matter how many sucker punches they threw at each other.

A while after Patrick started screwing with her and giving her dead bugs, and sometimes rodents, she started giving him trinkets too. Except, socially accepted things, like jewelry.

The first ever piece of jewelry she gave him was a ring when they were in the second grade; it was purple and silver. She got it for a dime at one of those cheap candy and toy machines while leaving a grocery store with her mother.

She assumed he liked it because she never saw him take it off, and when he outgrew it he put it on a necklace. He always denied liking it though, giving excuses that she was just so annoying that he didn’t want to hear her complain about him not wearing it.

Y/N knew better, and always smiled when she saw it around his neck.

That was until now. Y/N paced around her room in a state of panic, gnawing at her fingernails and being lost in her thoughts. It’d been a week and three days since anybody had seen Patrick, and she was a nervous wreck.

Usually, this wouldn’t have made her so scared, Patrick could take care of himself, hell he’d gone four days without telling anyone where he went. But more kidnappings and murders of children and teens around town made her worry.

Y/N had asked his mom if he had gotten home on Tuesday night after hanging out with her at the barrens, but Patrick’s mom said she hadn’t seen him since he left with her.

 “Oh my fucking God,” She whispered to herself, stopping her feet from the circle she was walking in, “Jesus Christ, he’s one of the missing kids.” 

The rest of the Bowers gang had stopped looking for him after the second day; they knew he’d come back with only a few scratches. But Y/N had a gut feeling she couldn’t ignore. She fiddled with one of the rings he had given her, biting her lip as she looked at her door.

Y/N cursed, grabbed a flashlight, and put on her shoes. As she was running down her stairs, she almost tripped when she saw what seemed to be Patrick going into her kitchen.

“Patrick?” Her voice was shaky and hopeful, but when she entered the room it was empty. Y/N sighed, running a hand through her hair and making her way out of her front door. She jogged on the path she and Patrick would usually walk on when they were bored. 

They’d talk about stupid shit, never sticking to one topic for a conversation. Then they’d make it to the park and laugh at the kids falling, especially when one of the two was upset over something. She always enjoyed seeing his eyes light up when one of them would cry, no matter how odd it seemed.

His eyes would crinkle, sometimes small tears would form, he’d show off his teeth, his lips would tighten. His lips looked soft, yet they’d be chapped and dried over all the time. Y/N would ask Patrick if he wanted some when she’d apply her chapstick, but he’d always tell her no. Sometimes Y/N would catch him staring at her lips a little too long when she’d apply it, and she’d wonder if he actually really wanted some-

A screech from two of the swings on the swingset pulled her away from her thoughts, and she stopped to stare at the playground. Her and Patrick used to sit on the swings all day long after school when they were kids, and they’d compete to see who could get the highest.

Y/N  pointed her flashlight at them and watched the two swings slowly go back and forth, a red balloon tied to the one Patrick would always sit on. 

She tilted her head at it, a confused look on her face. She could’ve sworn she’d seen that balloon before. Y/N then shook her head, realizing she was getting off track. 

“No, he wouldn’t be here. I’d have found him already.” She whispered to herself and looked sideways to the path she was following, then grimaced. “Or a cop would’ve…”

Y/N continued on the path, putting her hands in the pockets of the jacket she was wearing. She almost tripped over a rock and bit her lip in frustration, cursing and kicking it against a tree.

When she did, she smiled when she saw which tree it was. Patrick and her had marked it up with profanity when they were younger, and they used it as a guide to get to the barrens.

She stood by one of the sewage tunnels, peering into it and sighing. She hated the smell and what she’d find in there, but Patrick always grabbed her wrist and dragged her into it anyway.

They’d smoke and get high in there, every now and then stealing a bottle of whiskey from the store and drinking together. Not caring that her shoes were getting soaked in the gunk water, Y/N walked inside. 

“Patrick!” She called out, stepping in further and further. It took about twelve minutes of yelling before she thought she’d heard him.

It very well could’ve been desperation and her brain playing tricks on her, but she cried out again. She murmured a small 'dammit', and started to turn around until she heard him clearly.

“Nessie?” She heard him call, and she whipped her head around and ran further.

There he was, covered in blood, dirt, and only god knows what else. 

“Jesus fucking Christ Patrick!” She sharply cried, running over to him. “The hell are you doing here?! Don’t ever run away like that again-”

Patrick panicked and shushed her, putting his hand over her mouth and looking behind him in a fear she’d never seen before. 

“We need to get the fuck out of here. Right now,” He hissed quietly, taking his hand off of her.

“Where’s the damn exit?” She looked at him weirdly and was going to ask him what was wrong but decided against it, taking his hand and leading him out.

 The clock said 8:46 pm as Y/N sat on Patrick's bed, playing with a loose string on his black blanket. She chewed on her lip, and let go of the string, standing up to walk out of his room and to the linen closet in his hallway.

After grabbing the safety kit she forced him to keep when he first got hurt with her, she sat it on his bed and opened it, laying out all the supplies she would need to fix Patrick up.

She heard the pipes creak when Patrick turned off the water, and a while later walked out with a towel around his waist. She watched him as he grabbed clothes from his dresser, and he looked at her, and then the kit on the bed.

“Fuck. No.”

--

She eventually got him to sit on the bed, even though he whined and groaned about it. He huffed when she gave him a hair tie, and he roughly took it from her hand as he put his hair up in a bun so she could have access to his neck. 

“You know if you wanted me to eat you out, you could’ve asked.” He snickered, smirking at her as she flashed him a look of disgust.

“If I wanted to fuck you, I’d have done it already.” Tightly smiling, she uncapped a bottle of hydrogen peroxide and put it on a cotton ball. Y/N started to dab it on his cuts, sticking her tongue out in focus.

Patrick stared at her, a blank look on his face. He didn’t even notice that she was done until she ripped open a pack of gauges and placed one on a stitched-up cut he got in the sewer. 

“When the hell did’ja do that?” His eyebrows furrowed, his hand pushing away the cotton pad and inspecting the stitched cut.

“When you were fantasizing about your porn stash,” She scoffed and rolled her eyes, continuing to put the gauge back on his cut. She taped it up, and jokingly slapped it. “Doctor Miller is finished with her work. How satisfied are you with my service?” 

“I’d be much happier with a blow job, if it isn’t too unprofessional?” Patrick leaned his head to the side, a hopeful smile on his face. 

“I’d rather kill myself-”  Y/N stood up, placing all of the supplies back into the kit and starting her walk to the closet.

“You should get dressed, and then I wanna talk.” He sighed, grabbed the pile of clothes he had set out earlier, and went back into his bathroom to change.

When Patrick walked out in a pair of skinny jeans and no shirt, he walked over to the pile of his original clothes and pulled out the chain with his ring on it from a pocket of pants. He clasped it on and sat down on the edge of his bed, dramatically flopping on his back to look at Y/N. She was sitting at the bed’s headboard, picking at her nails. 

“So,” She refused to look at his eyes, already knowing that they were filled with either frustration or anger. “What the hell happened to you back there?”

"Cheating" BEN_Drowned Oneshot

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“Oh, come on! You’re totally cheating!” Y/N shouts, roughly standing up and pointing at the screen that said she lost with her controller. BEN only grinned and exited out of Super Mario Kart, returning to the menu screen.

“Nuh uh! You just suck at gaming.” He stuck his tongue out at her and yelped when she threw a pillow at him. “Woah, chill out!”

“I’m gonna beat your ass!” Y/N tossed her controller onto the couch cushion and tackled him, rolling them both off the couch.

He held onto her hands and screeched, trying to push her off of him. He failed miserably, though, granted her wrath was much stronger than what his twiggy arms could handle.

BEN kept screaming for help as she threatened him repeatedly, and looked over at the stairs as Jeff ran down them.

“Help! Please! Oh my fucking God, help me!” He yelled over at Jeff, and the rugged man only snickered and took a picture of them. 

“Nah, I’ve got shit to do. Funny as fuck, though.” Jeff shoved his phone back into his hoodie pocket and went into the kitchen, no doubt grabbing a beer. 

BEN continued to shout until he kicked her knee and she fell off of him, and he took his chance to run behind the couch. He and her played an odd game of ‘Ring Around the Rosie’ with it, and she looked for any opening she could to get to him. 

“Just admit you cheated!” She shouted, and threw another pillow at him.

“Just admit you suck ass at Super Mario Kart!” BEN shouted back, and Y/N stopped chasing him around the couch and stared at him. He also froze, unsure of what she was doing.

“Oh, fuck!”

Y/N climbed over the couch and jumped onto him, tackling him down again. They both rolled around and continued to fight, her threatening him and him taunting her. 

Jeff stood in the kitchen and watched at a distance, sipping his beer.

“They’re really going at it, huh?”

“Fuck!” Jeff jumped and spilled his beer, and looked over to where Clockwork had randomly appeared next to him, and she laughed lightly as he grabbed a towel and cursed her out.

"Inseparable" Part Nine

“Ya sure you’re okay, Nicole? You look worse than when Patrick came out of the sewer.” Y/N winced, holding Nicole up as they walked their way back to the entrance of the sewers. Nicole huffed out a laugh and grunted when she almost tripped over something in the muddy water.

“I’m fine, Y/N. Pennywise didn’t hurt me,” Nicole paused, “Well, I guess he did.” Y/N gasped, looking over her friend’s body to make sure she wasn’t dying on her. 

“No, no! Not like that, Y/N.” Nicole shook her head and continued on, nodding her head to the bright exit. “I’m hurt, but not badly! It’s um, nothing I didn’t want.” She mumbled the last part too quickly for Y/N to hear.

“What was that?”

“Nothing! Just, please go. I’ll talk to you later.” Nicole smiled at her friend and lightly nudged her. Y/N let out a sigh and returned the friendly gesture, wishing Nicole a farewell and good luck with whatever the hell was back there.

"RSV" g. house/j. wilson Oneshot

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The cold atmosphere surrounding the two men dampened the mood plenty, and the harsh coughs of the patient in front of them made it worse.

House had taken a case of a seven year old girl who hadn’t been able to walk since she was three. Whenever pressure was put on her left leg she would get a shooting pain all the way up to her spine.

No doctor knew why, other than that it was immovable and that she would probably never use it again. She and her mom had come into the clinic due to a respiratory infection, and House found her background ‘interesting.’ 

After a plethora of examinations and not-so-legal operations, he and his team found a tumor in her calf and in the middle of her spinal cord. How all of her other doctors missed them baffled the man, truly.

But that was how he was now sitting next to the girl showing her magic tricks as Wilson discussed with her mom possible treatments. 

“We could remove them and the dead tissue that surrounds the tumors, but it’s a tough and long operation that doesn’t have the highest chance of working.” Wilson stated lowly to the crying woman.

“How high?” She choked out, wiping her eyes with a tissue.

“A good, twenty-percent chance.” He estimated and thought about the severity of the girl's illness. “Her respiratory infection also doesn’t help much in the process, but if we don’t take those tumors out now, they might not be able to come out at all.”

The mother looked over at her daughter and watched as House pulled out a card from behind her ear, and then she saw him flick the girl’s forehead when she said it was the wrong card. Her mother laughed slightly, and then looked back at Wilson.

“Where do I sign?” Wilson smiled at her words and nodded to the door, “I’ll show you the reception.”

=======

The woman came back to the room and hugged her daughter, kissing her forehead. “Are you ready to get better, sweetie?”

The girl nodded her head and grinned, a tear falling from her eye.

Wilson walked in and snorted at House, who had fallen asleep in the chair with cards spread out all over him. 

“House.” He called out to the man, repeating it louder again. House still didn’t wake up, and Wilson scoffed before looking at the girl and the woman. 

“It’s about to get a little loud.” He warned them before he stood in front of the girl and offered his hand out. She took it, and he used his other to take off a cord that connected her to her heart monitor. It beeped loudly, repetitively, and House jolted awake. 

“Huh?”

“Welcome back, we almost lost you there.” Wilson said sarcastically, and House rolled his eyes. Wilson looked back at the girl, and he and House both grimaced when she coughed on his face. 

“I am so sorry.” The girl said and covered her mouth as she finished coughing. 

Wilson smiled tightly at her and connected her back to the heart monitor, “It’s all right, it happens more than you think.”

=======

“Where’s Wilson?” House barged into Cuddy’s office, completely ignoring the man she was with.

“House!” She scolded him, gesturing to the other man. “I’m in a meeting with someone. Knock next time.” 

“Oh, really? In that shirt I thought you were trying to proposition him a little something-something, if you catch my drift.” He raised his eyebrows to punctuate his sentence and grinned.

Cuddy gritted her teeth, and excused herself from the other man before walking out of the office with House trailing behind her.

“Wilson is at home sick with RSV. I told him to leave when I saw him this morning with eyebags heavier than yours and when I heard him cough his lungs out in his office from outside his door.” 

House looked at her and hummed before taking off without a word. The woman groaned and turned around, stopping one of the assistants. “Clock Dr. House out of work, please.”

=========

House lifted his cane up to Wilson’s door and knocked to the tune of ‘Shave and a Haircut’. He didn’t get a response, so he jiggled the handle and opened the door when he noticed it was unlocked. 

“You know, I could kill and rob you right now.” He shouted out as he walked into Wilson’s living room. It was eerily quiet, and he didn’t like it. The man thudded his cane on the ground three times and heard a faint cough as three other knocks followed from Wilson’s bedroom wall.

House’s eyebrows furrowed and he went to see the sick oncologist, roughly opening the door and turning on the lights. “Wakey wakey, eggs and bakey.”

Wilson groaned loudly and grabbed one of his pillows to cover his head with, coughing underneath it. He groaned even louder when House poked him with his cane, right before House jabbed it into his side.

“Ow! House!” Wilson uncovered his head and looked at the other man, holding up his hand to the light above them. He coughed a bit, and House let out a quick ‘yikes’ when he saw just how bad Wilson looked. 

The man in question had eyebags darker than his own hair, and his eyes were incredibly red and puffy. His lips were dry and cracked, and he had dried drool on his chin. His cheeks were red as well, and his hair was tousled like he just got thrown off a bull. 

“Jesus Christ.” House murmured, taking in the sight of his best friend. The said man had only grunted and thrown his face back into his pillow, coughing into it. 

“If you’re gonna gawk, at least turn the lights off.” His voice was muffled, but House understood it enough to flick the light switch and leave the room.

The man stood there for a second, staring at the door before going into the kitchen and grabbing Wilson’s keys from the glass bowl, and leaving to go to his own house.

=======

Wilson’s eyes opened when he heard his front door slam shut, and he inhaled deeply and sat up. He ran his hands through his tangled hair and carefully stood up, making his way to his bathroom. Washing his hands when he was finished with his business, he turned off the water and dried his hands while trying to sniff the air.

He couldn’t smell or breathe very well, but there was a slight smell of Thai food that caught his attention. He fixed his hair and left the bathroom, and wobbled to his kitchen, where he saw House sitting down on his sofa and eating noodles while watching ‘General Hospital.’

“Save any for me?” He croaked out and cleared his throat. 

“Fridge.” Was the only thing House said through a mouthful of noodles, and Wilson made his way to his fridge.

He pulled out a box of more noodles, and noticed the grocery bag on his counter. He reached out for it, and pulled out a bottle of Nyquill, Aspirin, Tylenol, allergy medications, and Motrin.

He opened the bottle of Tylenol and grabbed two, tossing them into his mouth and fitting his head under the sink to down them with the tap water. He grabbed the Thai noodles and sat down next to House, digging into his food. 

They both sat there in enjoyable silence until Wilson noticed all of the new pillows and blankets that sat on his reclinable sofa and spoke up.

“What’s all that for?” He mumbled through his noodles. 

“Doesn’t matter.” House said simply, pushing himself off the couch with his cane and taking his trash and bowl to the kitchen. Wilson stared at the cushions and shrugged, continuing to watch the TV. 

When he was finished, he got up and also took his bowl to the kitchen, and he coughed into his elbow as he placed his bowl in the sink. “Are you going to pay rent, at least?”

“Nope.” House popped the P and typed away on Wilson’s laptop, not bothering to look at the man. Wilson deadpanned at House until he decided to walk away and go back to his room, flopping onto his bed and falling asleep there.

The other man was searching for drug cocktails that he could inject his friend with to get him better, and he grinned devilishly when he found one that he had access to all of the drugs.

He leaned over slightly to see if Wilson’s door was open or not, and stood up and quickly made way to his bag when he saw it was closed. He pulled out what should have been a med-kit, and took out the drugs in it. He chose what he needed, and made sure all of the right ingredients were put into a syringe.

He slowly limped to Wilson’s room, opting out of using his cane so that he didn’t cause too much noise and wake him up. House opened his door carefully, and his nerves eased when he heard the loudest snore he’s ever heard in his life.

 He ticked his tongue and made his way to Wilson, pulling out a sanitisation packet from his pocket. He lifted the sleeping man’s shirt and carefully rubbed it onto his back, freezing when he stirred. Pulling out the other packet, he wiped down the needle slowly and injected Wilson with the cocktail quickly. 

He froze again, expecting Wilson to wake up and yell at him, but he didn’t. He was still fast asleep, and still snoring. House smiled in success and tossed the syringe into the trashcan by Wilson’s bed, and covered it up with crinkled tissues. He then left the room and closed the door, and went back into the kitchen where the laptop was. 

House re-skimmed over the article with the side effects and he stopped when he saw something slightly alarming.

“Patient may fall unconscious for any time ranging from 16 hours to 2 days. Watch closely and monitor all the time. Any illnesses that the patient may have when the cocktail is injected will dimishness.”

“Shit.”

=======

Wilson woke up after twenty-six hours with cotton mouth, a diaper on, and no idea where he was until he saw House sitting on a chair reading a magazine. 

“House?” He grumbled, lifting himself up to look at his clock. It was late, 1:24 in the morning to be exact. He looked back at House, and the man stood up and slapped the back of his hand onto Wilson’s forehead and held it there. 

“Feels fine.” The man said, and he grabbed his cane and left the confused Wilson to his own devices. 

Wilson didn’t know what happened, or what to do, so he chose to take a shower and freshen up. When he was done, he saw a glass of water on his bedside table and downed it immediately.

He sighed and stood there, unsure of what to do once again. That was until he noticed he felt much better than when he fell asleep.

He went to find House, and saw him in the kitchen again making what he assumed was an omelet. Staring into the back of House’s head, he felt that something was wrong.

He went to sleep with RSV and the worst headache and cough of his life, and now he felt like he could run a marathon.

“What did you do?” He questioned, and locked eyes with House when he turned around.

“What, no ‘thank you?’ No, ‘Oh my goodness, House. I feel so much better, thank you for your help and kindness?’” House mocked, tossing the omelet onto a plate and holding it out for Wilson.

Wilson felt iffy taking the food, but he still did and he sat down at the table as House served him a glass of orange juice. 

“It’s two in the morning-” “I don’t care, eat your food.”

“M’kay.” Wilson didn’t argue and he grabbed his fork and ate, huffing down all of it and drinking every drop in the glass. “So, what’d you do?”

“I drugged you with seven different drugs.” House told him, grabbing Wilson’s plate and putting it in the sink before filling his glass back up with more juice. Wilson sat there and stared at him in disbelief, no words could come out of his mouth. 

“Right.” Was the only word he could say, and he downed the drink in his glass. His mind was racing with many things he wanted to tell his friend.

He was in awe that he would put him so close to death, and that he would even think of doing such a thing that could one again, put him so close to death. It was insane of him to do, and he was flabbergasted. But what came out instead of yelling was, 

“You cared that much?” House turned on the water to the sink and grabbed a sponge and soap and started doing the dishes, ignoring Wilson’s question. 

That was the only answer Wilson needed, though, and he smiled at the back of House’s head. 

“I’m telling your team when I go into work.”

“No the hell you aren’t!”

“Oh, yes the hell I am!”