cindylouwho | Turn Back Time, Ch. 2

Chapter 2

Wilson pushed the memory of the last time House had said he was sorry to him back, as he cleared his throat; composing himself. He began to tidy up his office, putting files into his briefcase to review later on, and shut down his laptop. House fidgeted with his cane, unsure if he was a help or hindrance right now. Wilson called Cuddy and explained the situation at hand and that he would need a few days off. Cuddy was more than willing to give him the time and inquired if he was going to be going on his own. Wilson paused when she asked him that. He hadn't thought about asking House to come along, but realized it might be a good idea. When Wilson looked over at House, and was about to ask him when House simply nodded and limped out of Wilson's office, heading toward his own. Wilson exhaled rapidly, unaware he had been holding his breath. “No, House is going to come with me,” he said to Cuddy before ending the call.

House came back to Wilson's office a few moments later, his blue backpack slung over his shoulder. “Everything cleared with Cuddy?” Wilson nodded. “What did you tell your team?” House smirked. “I told Foreman not to admit anyone, Taub to keep it in his pants, 13 to make videos of any of her sexual encounters, and told Kutner to stay away from any defibrillator machines. That should about cover it.” Wilson chuckled for the first time in hours as he locked up his office and the two headed for the elevator.

After stopping at their respective apartments for clothing and necessities, Wilson steered the car north. They were quiet the first thirty miles or so. House was curious about this friend of Wilson's he had never heard of, and although the curiosity was killing him, he was too hesitant to start the conversation.

Finally, after about forty minutes of strained silence, Wilson began to talk. He told House of how they met in the second grade because their last names were close in relation of the alphabet. Wilson took to Jon straightaway because to him it was immediately clear he needed a friend. Jon was small, but robust for his age, and his family didn't have much money. He was a loner, until Wilson took him under his wing. Jon was picked on all through grade school, middle school and all the way through high school in fact. Jon never “looked” right, or tried to fit in, or did whatever the social norm was at the time. Wilson always tried to be his protector for what it was worth, even if it meant he was ostracized as well. House had to smirk at that. It seemed like Wilson was still making the same mistakes when it came to selecting his friends.

As they drove through New York and Connecticut, Wilson's mood seemed to brighten slightly, as he reminisced about good times and told stories of his youth. He told House of ski trips, tales of sneaking out of the house, and staying out all night. He explained how things changed when they went to separate colleges. Jon was so excited to be away from his home, his family and went a little wild. The first time Wilson went to visit him, he hardly recognized his friend; he'd lost a ton of weight, had obviously been doing a fair amount of drugs, and had picked up smoking as a habit.

That was when everything began to change, and when their relationship changed. Wilson had gotten into a fast track program at McGill and was busy studying and learning as much as he could in preparation for med school. Whenever he talked to Jon, it was about some girl or some guy, or the latest party he had hit; the highest he had been. Wilson had such a hard time understanding the changes that his friend had undergone. Jon always wanted to help people, to give back, and had always talked about going into law or education or social work. But all he seemed to care about was party, party, party.

Wilson sighed, drained from the conversation. House looked at him carefully, trying to figure out what was going on in Wilson's mind. Wilson glanced at him, a slight smile on his lips. “Thanks for listening.” House nodded slowly, and fiddled with his cane, not wanting to match Wilson's scrutiny. “So what happened after you finished college? You went on to medical school obviously. What did Jon end up doing?”

Wilson sighed. “I'm not sure what he did, right after college we kind of lost touch for a bit. My first year into med school, I was so busy with classes and studying and getting as much hands on experience as I could. I hardly had time to call my parents, never mind keeping in touch with Jon or any of my friends.” House nodded. He didn't share the same sentiments, but knew what Wilson meant nonetheless.

“I think it was the summer before my second year of med school. He called me in the middle of the night out of his mind. I don't know if he was drunk or stoned or what, but he was incoherent, babbling on about some girl. And then he started crying, sobbing about how much he missed me, how alone he was, still at home and everything. I didn't know what to do, I kept trying to tell him it was going to be ok, and then he just stopped talking. I guess he passed out or something because when I called him back the next day, he had no idea what I was talking about. It was then I think I realized there was something wrong, other than the possibility of drugs, something wrong with him mentally. I wasn't sure if he was bi-polar, depressed, or something else. I just didn't know what to do.”

House was silent, staring out the window. He felt slightly guilty, all those times he worried Wilson, called him in the middle of the night drunk or in pain. He hadn't known about Jon, or he might have done some things differently. People always said that House was the most closed off of the two, but it was really Wilson no one really knew anything about.

House noticed that they had crossed the Massachusetts border and that Wilson had gone quiet. He was still curious, still didn’t have enough information for the mini white board he had set up in his mind, but didn't necessarily want to upset Wilson any more than he was. Even House could be compassionate sometimes. That didn't, however, mean House wasn’t slightly hurt that Wilson had kept all this from him. He prided himself on knowing everything about everyone. “I mean I've known you for what, twenty some odd years and I am only now hearing about this guy? What gives?”