Four Divorces And A Funeral - 2
Oct. 25th, 2011 11:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
damigellaDrabble Prologue
Chapter 1, warnings, and stuff.
Chapter 2
"So now you know. I'm terribly sorry. I never thought he could... they could..."
He didn't finish the sentence, but Wilson nodded briefly, then seemed lost in thought for a while. House waited anxiously for his reaction. Although whatever Wilson was going to say couldn't possibly make him feel worse than he already did.
"House, you did nothing wrong. In fact, you refused to break the law. You shouldn't feel guilty." He paused. "But it's good that you do, because I need you to testify against Mendelsohn."
They were sitting at either end of the couch, but this sentence alone was enough to make House painfully aware of the distance between them. A distance due to his having been in jail, having experienced first hand the power of people like Mendelsohn, the meaninglessness of the law.
"I'm deeply grateful that you got me out, but this is too dangerous for both of us. I can't do that."
"It seems the only way to keep you out of the suspect list."
"They can't punish me for something I haven't done."
House was not sure he was completely convincing. Or sincere.
"Fine. Forget about that. I want that criminal to be punished for what he did to me, and I need your help for that."
"Wilson, Mendelsohn has many friends outside. You only met three of them, and I think it was enough. If we accuse him we're both dead."
"Four of them. And if I don't try to stop him, I'll feel like an accomplice."
He had heard that Wilson had needed three units of blood, but it wasn't because of this that he was so pale now. His lips were pressed so thin as to be almost invisible, but his eyes were steady, and finally it was House that had to lower his gaze.
"Wilson, this is insane."
What could he do to make him understand?
"No. What happened to me because of bringing you some groceries is insane."
"Wilson, it's all my fault. Just stop visiting me and you'll be safe."
"You don't understand, House, do you? I tried crying, tried offering them money, tried telling them I wasn't your boyfriend, and they didn't care. When I said I might bleed to death from the knife wound in my arm the one behind me laughed and said 'You're bleeding from your ass, too. Makes you nice and slick.' They could be doing it to a child next time. It's not your fault, and I want him, them, in jail. For a very long time."
Nonsense. This was all his fault of course. If only he hadn't made Mendelsohn angry. Better yet, he should not have resumed his friendship with Wilson. He was an ex-convict. What right did he have to involve a honest man in criminal business? And, of course, if he hadn't driven into Cuddy's place...
"House. Will you do it?"
There was so much pure pain in his friend's face that House didn't feel able to say no.
"I... I will. But think about it, please. No rash decisions."
"I don't think I'll be able to think of anything else for a very long time."
-----
"What happened?"
Wilson had arrived at work almost three hours late, and hadn't even pretended to go to this office. Instead he had barged into House's with an expression that had prompted his team to leave while he hung up his coat. Six days had passed since they had spoken with the police, a higher-level inspector that was extremely interested in finally putting an end to Mendelsohn's career.
"Here, have a look."
House's first thought at the sight of the printed photo was that the burned remains of the Volvo had a certain sinister elegance the original car never had. Unfortunately, it was immediately followed by a second.
"Wilson... it was a message. The next time they won't just burn your property."
"I'm scared, too. But I have to do what is right. I've been to the police already."
"Why? You're just a regular guy that ended up involved in a deal inside a prison. It's very unlikely this will ever happen again, to you or to anyone else. Normally Mendelsohn would have gotten his vengeance on me directly."
Wilson snapped, and shouted his answer. All activity in the orthopedy room near House's ceased, and most people didn't even try to hide the fact they were listening.
"And this would be better how? You're an ex-convict, House, but you're still a human being. Even murderers have a right not to be raped, not to be physically harmed. Being a prisoner doesn't change anyone's fundamental rights."
"It does. Every time I look at the anklet, it's as if I was back in there. You don't know what it's like, Wilson. Jail makes you feel an animal, or at least a very inferior race. A slave. Knowing that everyone there has power over you... you'd do anything, accept anything. Prison's there to break you."
He shivered at the recollection. Sometimes he felt that the lack of physical privacy alone had been enough to change him forever. But how could he explain to Wilson the deep meaning of a bathroom door?
"This is crazy. You need to see a therapist."
"Not that I'd want to, but I can't anyway. Because I don't want one within PPTH and I can't go anywhere else. Plus, I can't afford one."
Wilson stood up. He was obviously frightened, but the stubborness was stronger than the fear.
"I should go to work now. I'll see you this evening, maybe I can come with you and then borrow your car to drive home."
------
The moment House opened the door he knew why his key had mysteriously vanished after lunch and only reappeared on his desk about three hours later. Also why Wilson had insisted on accompanying him to his own door, under pretext of asking his opinion on a particular case.
"I do like black leather, but I still want my own couch back."
"It was stained with vomit, House. Plus, this has a real bed in it."
"You bought a design couch for that? I haven't had a guest overnight since I came back."
The word prison hovered in the air, but this time no one was strong enough to speak it aloud.
"I'm actually planning to move in here for a while, if it's okay with you. I'll pay rent, too."
"Wilson, this is the craziest thing you've said in a long while."
"It's just practical. I am doing all your shopping as is, so I would save time, and we can both use your car so I wouldn't need a new one. I can rent out the condo and use the money to pay you rent and for a therapist who does home calls."
"I don't need therapy."
"You do, but I can't force you. No, the therapist's for me. I've been having nightmares since the assault, but today I got my first panic attack."
Wilson lowered his voice, looked pointedly at his immaculate shoes.
"At least there's always a police car near here. I'm afraid of being home alone."
House wasn't even sure he had heard the last sentence right. Maybe he just imagined it, it seemed so nonsensical.
Chapter 1, warnings, and stuff.
Chapter 2
"So now you know. I'm terribly sorry. I never thought he could... they could..."
He didn't finish the sentence, but Wilson nodded briefly, then seemed lost in thought for a while. House waited anxiously for his reaction. Although whatever Wilson was going to say couldn't possibly make him feel worse than he already did.
"House, you did nothing wrong. In fact, you refused to break the law. You shouldn't feel guilty." He paused. "But it's good that you do, because I need you to testify against Mendelsohn."
They were sitting at either end of the couch, but this sentence alone was enough to make House painfully aware of the distance between them. A distance due to his having been in jail, having experienced first hand the power of people like Mendelsohn, the meaninglessness of the law.
"I'm deeply grateful that you got me out, but this is too dangerous for both of us. I can't do that."
"It seems the only way to keep you out of the suspect list."
"They can't punish me for something I haven't done."
House was not sure he was completely convincing. Or sincere.
"Fine. Forget about that. I want that criminal to be punished for what he did to me, and I need your help for that."
"Wilson, Mendelsohn has many friends outside. You only met three of them, and I think it was enough. If we accuse him we're both dead."
"Four of them. And if I don't try to stop him, I'll feel like an accomplice."
He had heard that Wilson had needed three units of blood, but it wasn't because of this that he was so pale now. His lips were pressed so thin as to be almost invisible, but his eyes were steady, and finally it was House that had to lower his gaze.
"Wilson, this is insane."
What could he do to make him understand?
"No. What happened to me because of bringing you some groceries is insane."
"Wilson, it's all my fault. Just stop visiting me and you'll be safe."
"You don't understand, House, do you? I tried crying, tried offering them money, tried telling them I wasn't your boyfriend, and they didn't care. When I said I might bleed to death from the knife wound in my arm the one behind me laughed and said 'You're bleeding from your ass, too. Makes you nice and slick.' They could be doing it to a child next time. It's not your fault, and I want him, them, in jail. For a very long time."
Nonsense. This was all his fault of course. If only he hadn't made Mendelsohn angry. Better yet, he should not have resumed his friendship with Wilson. He was an ex-convict. What right did he have to involve a honest man in criminal business? And, of course, if he hadn't driven into Cuddy's place...
"House. Will you do it?"
There was so much pure pain in his friend's face that House didn't feel able to say no.
"I... I will. But think about it, please. No rash decisions."
"I don't think I'll be able to think of anything else for a very long time."
-----
"What happened?"
Wilson had arrived at work almost three hours late, and hadn't even pretended to go to this office. Instead he had barged into House's with an expression that had prompted his team to leave while he hung up his coat. Six days had passed since they had spoken with the police, a higher-level inspector that was extremely interested in finally putting an end to Mendelsohn's career.
"Here, have a look."
House's first thought at the sight of the printed photo was that the burned remains of the Volvo had a certain sinister elegance the original car never had. Unfortunately, it was immediately followed by a second.
"Wilson... it was a message. The next time they won't just burn your property."
"I'm scared, too. But I have to do what is right. I've been to the police already."
"Why? You're just a regular guy that ended up involved in a deal inside a prison. It's very unlikely this will ever happen again, to you or to anyone else. Normally Mendelsohn would have gotten his vengeance on me directly."
Wilson snapped, and shouted his answer. All activity in the orthopedy room near House's ceased, and most people didn't even try to hide the fact they were listening.
"And this would be better how? You're an ex-convict, House, but you're still a human being. Even murderers have a right not to be raped, not to be physically harmed. Being a prisoner doesn't change anyone's fundamental rights."
"It does. Every time I look at the anklet, it's as if I was back in there. You don't know what it's like, Wilson. Jail makes you feel an animal, or at least a very inferior race. A slave. Knowing that everyone there has power over you... you'd do anything, accept anything. Prison's there to break you."
He shivered at the recollection. Sometimes he felt that the lack of physical privacy alone had been enough to change him forever. But how could he explain to Wilson the deep meaning of a bathroom door?
"This is crazy. You need to see a therapist."
"Not that I'd want to, but I can't anyway. Because I don't want one within PPTH and I can't go anywhere else. Plus, I can't afford one."
Wilson stood up. He was obviously frightened, but the stubborness was stronger than the fear.
"I should go to work now. I'll see you this evening, maybe I can come with you and then borrow your car to drive home."
------
The moment House opened the door he knew why his key had mysteriously vanished after lunch and only reappeared on his desk about three hours later. Also why Wilson had insisted on accompanying him to his own door, under pretext of asking his opinion on a particular case.
"I do like black leather, but I still want my own couch back."
"It was stained with vomit, House. Plus, this has a real bed in it."
"You bought a design couch for that? I haven't had a guest overnight since I came back."
The word prison hovered in the air, but this time no one was strong enough to speak it aloud.
"I'm actually planning to move in here for a while, if it's okay with you. I'll pay rent, too."
"Wilson, this is the craziest thing you've said in a long while."
"It's just practical. I am doing all your shopping as is, so I would save time, and we can both use your car so I wouldn't need a new one. I can rent out the condo and use the money to pay you rent and for a therapist who does home calls."
"I don't need therapy."
"You do, but I can't force you. No, the therapist's for me. I've been having nightmares since the assault, but today I got my first panic attack."
Wilson lowered his voice, looked pointedly at his immaculate shoes.
"At least there's always a police car near here. I'm afraid of being home alone."
House wasn't even sure he had heard the last sentence right. Maybe he just imagined it, it seemed so nonsensical.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2011-10-26 12:54 am (UTC)And they both need therapy, definitely.
no subject
Date: 2011-10-26 04:35 pm (UTC)canonno subject
Date: 2011-10-26 01:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-26 04:37 pm (UTC)It is terrible to think you know this from direct experience. (hugs)
no subject
Date: 2011-10-26 03:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-26 04:39 pm (UTC)he loves himhe can't make him suffer more.no subject
Date: 2011-10-26 08:05 am (UTC)but this sentence alone was enough to make House painfully aware of the distance between them. A distance due to his having been in jail, having experienced first hand the power of people like Mendelsohn, the meaninglessness of the law.
I like that you're showing the effects on House of being imprisoned, and the ankle monitor is a constant reminder that he's not really free.
And I do like a 'take charge' Wilson (as you know:)
Jail makes you feel an animal, or at least a very inferior race. A slave.
Hmm - I'm not saying anything:) I might have to send Tailkinker over here to talk to you :)
no subject
Date: 2011-10-26 05:28 pm (UTC)The police isn't protecting House as much as keeping an eye on him because he already broke his parole agreement, but yes, they're there.
I do love in charge!wilson too :).
no subject
Date: 2011-10-26 02:48 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-26 05:29 pm (UTC)Yes. That's precisely what I wanted to say: House is the source of Wlson's strength. (does happy dance).
no subject
Date: 2011-10-26 04:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-26 05:30 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-27 06:20 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-28 07:35 pm (UTC)Thank you for support!
no subject
Date: 2011-10-29 08:15 pm (UTC)