Work Text:
Wilson surveyed the half-trashed hotel room. His heart was still pounding and for a few seconds after House had jumped, he had considered diving into that pool after him and holding his head underwater. He still wasn't sure he shouldn't go fill up the tub and drown House in it when he finally made his way back up to the room. If security let him back into the hotel. He began tossing the first few bottles he came across in his path, into the nearly overflowing trash can, tossing discarded clothes into a pile by the closet door. He picked up the hurdy-gurdy and bow, placing them on table as he headed to the balcony doors, pulling them shut, cursing at the boisterous noise still coming from the pool area. He grabbed House's suitcase and began throwing House's clothes into it. Dirty or clean, he didn't care. Instead of his anger at House's stunt ebbing, he was getting angrier with each item he shoved into the suitcase, not bothering to fold them, cursing House half under his breath as he did so.
"What did my poor clothes ever do to you?"
"Fuck, House," Wilson jerked in surprise to see a dripping wet House watching him with a crooked grin. He had been so preoccupied he hadn't heard him come in. He glared at him. "You are coming back to my place. No arguments. Any arguments, I'll drop you right off at Mayfield after that stunt."
House's grin slipped a little at the withering glare. He knew a lecture was waiting him. "Wait. You thought...you thought I was trying to kill myself?"
"You did a pretty fair if unsuccessful imitation of it."
"I dove off a balcony into a pool. A pool, Wilson. You know, that rectangular thing filled with chlorinated water that just about everyone pisses in but doesn't want to admit it?" The small crooked grin was completely gone now. "It wasn't as if I took a leap off the third story of a parking garage into a parking lot whilst knowing full well I couldn't fly."
Wilson caught the reference, but he was too upset. "I didn't know the pool was there. I watched my best friend take a header off a balcony, I thought I was going to find your..." Wilson's throat was too tight for him to continue and House became a watery blur as his eyes filled with tears. He turned back to his haphazard packing, quickly wiping his eyes, not wanting House to see his tears. "Go put on some dry clothes, we are leaving," he managed a few moments later, still avoiding looking at House.
"Where are we going?" Wilson had threatened Mayfield and given his behavior, he wasn't quite so sure they wouldn't be outside their rights to keep him for a couple days observation. That didn't mean he wanted or needed to be there or would go willingly.
"Plan on anymore balcony diving? Any more using hookers for target practice? I'm not going to wake up, tied up in artistic knots?"
House shook his head. The grin slowly returning. "Of course if you are into Karada, it's been awhile, but I still think I could manage..."
Wilson shook his head, letting go of a slightly hysterical laugh. Just maybe they would be okay.