Title: At ease
Themes: Wilson, House, cancer
status: Just beginning - had the idea when walking to class and basically wrote the whole thing instead of paying attention
Summary: Wilson and his cancer work. Slighly autobiographical.
Rating: T (h-e-double hockey sticks used once)
Disclaimer: House and it's characters aren't mine, I am not recieving money for this story, don't come and destroy me.

It's short, and bad, but feedback is much appreciated :)


She sat in the exam room staring at the usual ‘clogged arteries? Treat it with ________ (fill in any prescription drug you care to)” poster that graced the back of the door. She was cold, and shivered as she pulled the brown cardigan tighter around her. Her breasts still ached from the mammogram 1 week ago. It’s funny how memory retention works that way. She still couldn’t bring herself to enter the allergist’s office, and the needle testing had been done when she was seven. Twenty years didn’t change things much, except equipment. The rooms in the hospital still retained the same structure – glass jars of tongue depressors, cotton swabs, elongated Q-tips all lined the sterile sink with the biohazard box suspended on the wall. The corner held the usual office stand with flat screen monitor and official black keyboard. You could personalize the space all you wanted to: put pictures of your kids on the bulletin board, include picture books for little kids, but the fact remained that this was a sterile, uninviting environment. Comforting, right? Not.
The nurse had left a few minutes ago, casually saying that Dr. Wilson would be in soon. She started at the unfamiliarity of the name. “Dr. Wilson? He’s not my usual do-”
“He’s the head oncologist” the nurse said, convieniently half out the door so her name tag wouldn’t be readable. She gave the woman on the examining table a small smile, and quickly closed the door. The woman sighed. Her gaze had already exhausted all possible interest in the room, and as she did when she was seven, she began to play the alphabet game: something that always served to calm her. A is for… here she spots the picture on the wall of a fall scene…apple! B is for…

It had been few minutes about 15 minutes ago, and she was starting to wonder if Dr. Wilson existed or if it was a ruse, fondly named after a patient who had died in a back room after waiting for two weeks. Her heart soared as she heard male voices outside the room; well, as high as a hear can soar after being told the head oncologist was paying you a visit. The doorknob turned, and a tall doctor in his mid-30’s entered the room. The doctor look was complete – pocket protector with about five different pens neatly arranged in the white lab coat. He held a slim manila folder – hers – in his hand, pages not ruffled. So he hadn’t been taking a last-minute glance at her information. He held out a hand, meeting her eyes. “Hello, Andrian”.
She was immediately at ease. She wasn’t sure what it was – the comforting smile, or the fact that he wasn’t afraid to look at her. There was something about him – a presence that was reassuring.
“Have a seat then?” he asked her. “That table can’t be exactly comfortable.” She slipped off into the chair he offered, and he sat down on the typical stool. “I’m sorry I’m late – I was helping a friend.”
“Another doctor?” She asked, perhaps not really curious, just anything at this point to avoid the inevitable conversation which she knew was coming.
“You could say that. Well, yes, another doctor…just not the typical one. He’s..well…I’m sure you’re not interested.” He gave that smile again, but this one seemed laced with a little sadness. She tried to read his eyes, but couldn’t get past a small wall she seemed to run into. Her brow creased, but He looked her straight in the eyes, and began the litany that she was afraid was going to happen. “I’m sorry, Ms. Cole, but I’m afraid you have cancer.”

Wilson walked out of the door, and automatically took the elevator. Somehow all of his roads, no matter where they began, led to House’s office. He thought over the first part of his conversations with Andrian. No, House was not a typical doctor. Neither was theirs a typical friendship.
As he turned the corner to the glass office, he saw movement in House’s office, but wasn’t expecting the familiar tennis ball to come hurtling at him the second he opened the door. His hand immediately went down and grabbed the ball before it slammed into his leg. “You know, you might want to throw at the walls instead of the door.”
“Glass gets confusing. Besides, with glass you can follow people that you don’t like and hit them every step of the way.”
Wilson glared at him. “And suddenly I’m on the hit list?”
House gave him his usual twisted smile. “No. Have you ever been on my hit list?”
“Only when I do something contrary to you, which is usually every day.”
House gave a small laugh. “But it’s good for me to bust your ego down.”
It was Wilson’s turn to laugh. “No, that’s my job. It’s you who’s got the ego – heck, they gave you a whole new, big office for your head to expand!”
“And glass walls so everyone can see my skills – hah! Anyway, how’s the small circus freak show today?”
Wilson stared out the window. Clouds and wind: how typical when he had to start a new patient. “Not small Greg. I had the great privilege of telling a 27-year-old that she’s not going to make it to blow out 30 candles. And she said thank you. Why, Greg, do they say thank you? I don’t deserve to get a thank you for issuing a death statement.”
House looked at his friend with a mix of “Duh, you idiot” and “Oh geez” written on his face. “Because you’re kind. Because you care. Why else would you come to talk to me after visits like that? It’s because you care just enough to put them at ease. It’s why you’re so screwed up emotionally. Hell, if I did that, I’d go mush and then it’d be nothing but ‘Oh Dr. House’ and ‘You saved my life’ and it’d be nothing but work, work, work all the time. I’d be ruined.”
“Ruined out of your sarcasm and misery perhaps.” Wilson shook his head. “You wouldn’t want to take over oncology, would you? Maybe it would be a good idea…”
House glared. “What, and get put into some nicely paneled back office? I’ve worked hard to become an ass, and look where it’s gotten me.”
Wilson gave a small laugh. “I’m going to go finish paperwork. See you.”
House followed his friend out the door with his eyes, and continued staring out the door after Wilson had left. “At ease, solider” he murmered after Wilson. “Sometimes it’s okay to let everything go.”

If you know this is bad then you must know a helluva lot more about writing than I do because I thought it was good. Particularly good for a first fanfic.

Love this line from Wilson and I really love the last line from House. This story has places to go please give us some more.

I am concerned that you say this is slightly autobiographical because I hope aside from your wonky knee you are in good health.

I think this is very much on target with what House would say to Wilson, and very true to what Wilson must feel. It really showed their friendship. I don't think it was bad at all and I loved the title, too.

Hey,,, it's soo cool,
It's really good~ It's like I'm watching it on TV or something,,,,
Keep up the good work~

Thanks all :) I've got part two now, actually was surprised it came out because I was just planning on the first part :unsure: :huh: :rolleyes:

The allergies and the waiting room feeling is mine - the rest is part family autobiographical. No cancer yet for me.


*****************

As House sat in his office watching the credits roll on General Hospital, his gaze was caught by a young woman looking around the hallway, a confused look on her face. His brow furrowed in interest, but he was too comfortable to get up. He grabbed the tennis ball off the desk and chucked it through the open adjoining door to the duckling pen. He heard he hoped-for yelp, and in a few seconds Chase stuck his head in, a small red mark forming on his temple.

“Don’t even think about asking for something! You-” his tirade cut off abruptly as he noticed House’s gaze wasn’t focused on him. He followed the stare out the window to the girl outside, now looking at a small piece of paper in her hand. “Who’s that?”

“Don’t know. Want to go find out for the both of us? Good boy – come back and you’ll get a biscuit.”

Chase wrinkled his nose, but headed to the door; however, not before kicking the tennis ball to the corner by the door.

The girl in the hallway jumped as the door opened, but seemed almost relieved to see someone. “Dr. Wilson?” she asked. Now it was Chase’s turn to look confused.

“No – I’m Dr. Chase. Dr. Wilson is – well, I’m not sure. You could probably ask Dr. House.”

“Who’s Dr. House?” the girl asked, becoming uncomfortable. “All I want to do is talk to Dr. Wilson. I don’t want to disturb him.”

Chase rolled his eyes. “Oh, you won’t disturb him. Trust me.” As he opened the door to let the girl in, he grabbed the tennis ball and chucked it at House, just missing his ear and thwacking against the glass to the balcony.

House jerked up and glared. He opened his mouth to soundly berate Chase, but he noticed the girl behind him. Chase walked back into the other room, closing the door enough to avoid tennis balls, but open enough to make sure a rescue mission for the girl if necessary.


House blinked at the girl. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t even know” the girl retorted back. “I’m not looking for a Dr. House. I’m looking for Dr. Wilson.”

House felt his hackles rise, like a trained German Shepard ready to attack anyone who was upset with this man’s best friend. “What do you want with Wilson?”

“He treated my mom Andrian yesterday. I’m her daughter Alexa.”

“No way. I thought you were her favorite second cousin Mike. He sees lots of people – why is your mom so special?”

Alexa blinked at the sarcasm, but decided to let it go. “He…just that he was really nice and caring to her – I wanted to thank him and ask about her treat-”

House snarled back at her before she could say a word. “Oh great. That’s exactly what Wilson needs – another grateful female to make him feel even worse. Let me tell you something: Don’t you dare go hear him. That’s the problem with all you females: you all mean so well with your actions when all you’re doing is ruining a mans life day by day, painful stab by painful stab. He doesn’t need it, and Neither DO I!”

His last words rose to an ugly scream, and Chase flew into the room one split second short of crashing into Alexa, who was running to the elevator with tears streaming down her face. Chase looked at House, took a second to mutter “You’re lucky I’m not Cuddy” and ran after her. House dropped back into his chair, realizing that in the course of his tirade he had somehow both stood up and seized his bands into fists. He heard a soft click of a door, and craned his head to see Wilson behind him.

“Uh-oh” House whispered, more to himself then anyone else. He cleared his throat, and looking straight ahead said “Exactly how much of that did you hear?”

“Since the tennis ball hit the window.” Wilson said, his normally smooth voice suddenly as sharp as a sterile scalpel. “We are not the same person House – don’t you ever assume that your pain is mine, don’t you ever talk to any family of my patients like that. You bastard – you self righteous bastard!” For the third time in five minutes, someone stormed out of House’s office, leaving him to reach for his most constant friend – and worst enemy – the amber bottle of pills.

Sorry this didn't get up with the other one - it wasn't quite finished and I needed a break from homework :)

******************
From Lisa Cuddy’s office she was accustomed to seeing people walking; sometimes even the occasional runner. When she first saw a young woman running fast enough to stream her hair straight behind her, she was concerned. She turned from concerned to angry the instant she saw a familiar blond head chasing after her. In less then two minutes when she saw Wilson in the lobby heading for the courtyard with his head in his hand, it was enough to turn to fury and storm for the elevator.

House realized soon after he tossed a Vidocin that Lisa wouldn’t be hard to find after she saw the procession through the lobby. He grabbed his cane, and headed for the men’s bathroom. He smiled as his cane went to push open the door, but the smile quickly wiped off his face when he saw Cuddy standing directly inside the door.

“Ah! You were waiting after all. What say we find someplace more comfortable then the floor in here?”

“What have you done?” Cuddy asked. “Would you care to explain the rush I just saw through the lobby?”

“Ah – yes. They were fleeing in terror from my mad prowess of you?”

Cuddy stared in disgust. “No – you have crossed the line pretty far to drive Wilson over. Talk.”

House, as usual, saw that as much as he wanted to play with Cuddy, he eventually had to come clean. He relented the whole tale, and when he had ended Cuddy shook her head. “You – I don’t believe you. Go find Wilson – God knows that you need someone, and Wilson is about as good as it gets.” She gave House a little push towards the elevator and sighed after him. Maybe House needed more sympathy then she thought – but what sympathy could you offer a man whose only language was sarcasm?

Heavens House is cutting up rough. Surely Cuddy must consider suspending him? Wow now you have him right on the brink where do you go from here?

House's nastiness to women makes me feel just a bit queasy it is a balancing act between sarcasm and bullying. I think this is a little too bald, too cruel and therefore damaging to the character of House. Less is more and I feel the tirade could be curbed a bit.

And hitting Chase with the ball is worryingly close to assault because even though he did not see his target House was satisfied with the expected yelp.

This is really interesting I look forward to seeing where you take our hero now. I just hope he doesn't end up in the Psych ward ... but boy he is spoiling for it.

Wilson's response was completely right but I am truly surprised at his restraint. House's behaviour was enough to end even the best friendship.

Yeah - that didn't fit right but I needed Chase somehow - how does this work?

He grabbed the tennis ball off the desk and chucked it through the open adjoining door to the duckling pen. Chase stuck his head in a few seconds later, ball in hand.

"You missed the wall." He was about to toss it back when he he noticed House’s gaze wasn’t focused on him. He followed the stare out the window to the girl outside, now looking at a small piece of paper in her hand. “Who’s that?”

"I didn't miss - oh come on Chase. By now you should know everything I do has a reason. Don’t know who she is. Want to go find out for the both of us? Good boy – come back and you’ll get a biscuit.”


The tirade with House....I was kind of playing with the idea of what would happen if he did just comepletly go over the edge - or how far he would go to protect Wilson. Perhaps a bit over the edge, now that I look back - since it's the weekend some edits are in hand. :) I need to figure balances and perhaps steer a little more towards my title in the first place.

You are writing well and this is the place to experiment and let fly. That is how you find your true writing voice. And there are a lot of good experienced writers on this site who are generous with their help and encouragement.

You will notice with the show how the writers protect House. It is the Goldilocks principal ... they push him far but not often too far and they are supremely fortunate to have an actor who can make the most disgusting line palatable and forgivable

House is an archetype mythic hero who is explained so well by Joseph Campbell in THE HERO WITH A THOUSAND FACES which has become something of a bible for the most successful screenwriters. There is a useful guide here. Give it a read because it will help you out of sticky situations.

http://www.skepticfiles.org/atheist2/hero.htm

Also keep reading other peoples work because you need to avoid plot points that seem to have been used by other writers, I had a fleeting feeling of deja vu when Alex was observed by Cuddy leaving in tears. However the situation was different enough to be okay.

I agree. I think that at first it is easier to make House more abrasive than necessary than too "nice." Alexa leaving in tears was acceptable, ( I say this because I also wrote a "leaving in tears" scene."because one could make the argument that House might make a lot of people cry :-D.

In reguards to the title, maybe House needs to learn to "ease" up as well? He is very protective of Wilson, yet Wilson I am sure can protect himself. Just a thought. :-)

This fic moves fast - which is cool because I really like the first chapter and scrolled after the first and found more! :)

Very nice, lots of love for the first paragraph and the sitting in the waiting room. The 'named door' and the posters- the detail is superb and build the picture and the tension.

Plot develops nicely and the voices work really well - great effort and lots of love for this line especially-

Top stuff!

Cheers


Benj

Thanks all :) Your comments are wonderful, and help a lot.

Magdala - thanks for the notes on the hero and the 'over-the-top-ness' of House. You've made me rethink the story, and the directions that I wanted it to take when I first started writing.

I've got a new part 2 ready, but do I post it new or do I make it as an edit to the first one? Boards sometimes confuse me :huh: :( :unsure:

I love the comments and all the help- keep them rolling.

Why not put this line up before the text ....

SECOND DRAFT


That ensures everyone knows where they are ... on film scripts you get new coloured pages but I think with fanfic it is better to follow the novelist's rule of FIRST DRAFT ... SECOND DRAFT ... THIRD DRAFT etc

SECOND DRAFT of Part Two

As House sat in his office watching the credits roll on General Hospital, his gaze was caught by a young woman looking around the hallway, a confused look on her face. His brow furrowed in interest, but he was too comfortable to get up. He grabbed the tennis ball off the desk and chucked it through the open adjoining door to the duckling pen. He grabbed the tennis ball off the desk and chucked it through the open adjoining door to the duckling pen. Chase stuck his head in a few seconds later, ball in hand.

"You missed the wall." He was about to toss it back when he noticed House’s gaze wasn’t focused on him. He followed the stare out the window to the girl outside, now looking at a small piece of paper in her hand. “Who’s that?”

"I didn't miss - oh come on Chase. By now you should know everything I do has a reason. Don’t know who she is. Want to go find out for the both of us? Good boy – come back and you’ll get a biscuit.”

Chase wrinkled his nose, but headed to the door; however, not before kicking the tennis ball to the corner by the door.

The girl in the hallway jumped as the door opened, but seemed almost relieved to see someone. “Dr. Wilson?” she asked. Now it was Chase’s turn to look confused.

“No – I’m Dr. Chase. Dr. Wilson is – well, I’m not sure. You could probably ask Dr. House.”

“Who’s Dr. House?” the girl asked, becoming uncomfortable. “All I want to do is talk to Dr. Wilson. I don’t want to disturb him.”

Chase rolled his eyes. “Oh, you won’t disturb him. Trust me.” As he opened the door to let the girl in, he grabbed the tennis ball and chucked it at House, just missing his ear and thwacking against the glass to the balcony.

House jerked up and glared. He opened his mouth to soundly berate Chase, but he noticed the girl behind him. Chase walked back into the other room, closing the door enough to avoid tennis balls, but open enough to make sure a rescue mission for the girl if necessary.


House blinked at the girl. “What are you doing here?”

“I don’t even know” the girl retorted back. “I’m not looking for a Dr. House. I’m looking for Dr. Wilson.”

House felt his hackles rise, like a trained German Shepard ready to attack anyone who was upset with this man’s best friend. “What do you want with Wilson?”

“He treated my mom Andrian yesterday. I’m her daughter Alexa.”

“No way. I thought you were her favorite second cousin Mike. He sees lots of people – why is your mom so special?”

Alexa blinked at the sarcasm, but decided to let it go. “He…just that he was really nice and caring to her – I wanted to thank him and ask about her treat-”

House blinked back at her. “Thank him? Oh good. Go right ahead. Dr. Wilson loves getting thank-you’s from the people he sees. Not that they make him guilty or anything.”

“Guilty? I don’t understand.”

“You wouldn’t. It’s okay – not everyone’s a special doctor.”

“Well, I usually like it when I get thanked for something nice that I did. Doctors are people, aren’t they?” Alexa made this comment, in the back of her head wondering if this particular doctor really was a person – or just a shell of something that may have been a really nice guy.

“Yeah, Alex. Doctors are people, but they’re not women. Now women. Most women usually feel like they’re doing the right thing, but sometimes they screw it up. Now take for example the--”

“Woman who screwed up your leg?” Alexa met House’s eyes, and continued. “I’m not every woman, and I’m certainly not about to be judged by you like every other one who’s done something to you. Oh yeah, and last I checked, there were female doctors too. The name’s Alexa, while we’re on the subject.”

House was regretting ever getting a tennis ball and having a sense of curiosity. “Great. Is this how the situation will play with Dr. Wilson too? You’re real nice.”

Alexa shook her head. “You think you can scare me with a cane and a sob story? Good luck with that in a dark alley.”

House angrily got to his feet, trying to put a little less weight on the cane. “Don’t assume you know me.”

Alexa started back at him. “I didn’t. You assumed you knew me.”

The two faced in a stare down when House heard the door open behind him.

“Can I help you?” Wilson asked, looking at Alexa but seeing House.

“You’re Dr. Wilson. Thank goodness - do you have time to talk?”

“Sure.” Alexa headed to the door, leaving one parting glare with House. Wilson headed out after her, but not without mouthing the words “smooth move buddy”.

House stared after the two of them. Who did she think she was? He reached for the familiar amber colored bottle and gave a short laugh. Actual amber was sticky, a resin from trees that when hot could catch insects. There were days he felt like a bug, trapped in his own sticky amber.

That was awesome! It made me laugh. I loved her irreverence in reguards to the cane because House never wants sympathy. I loved Wilson mouthing the words "smooth move." House will perhaps learn when to stick up for Wilson, and when to back off. Really liked the amber stuff; I learned something. Maybe if enough people correct him on their name he will make a better effort to remember. :)

New Part Three - with the new second part of the story, this is the new third part.

Wilson led Alexa to his office, pulled out the chair for her, and sat down in the chair across from her. He gave a smile, and Alexa found herself surprised for the second time that day over a doctor. The study in opposites between these two! She found herself opening her mouth and asking Wilson not about what she had originally came for, but about her strange encounter. “Why did that one man tell me that Dr. House knew you?”

“Dr. Chase? Because he was right. Dr. House and I are…well…friends.” Wilson looked at the young woman, who stared back at him.

“But you’re so…different. You smile, he glares. You pull out chairs and don’t sit behind your desk with people who want to talk to you, he hides behind…everything, it seems.”

“Dr. House is a wonderful doctor, and is a friend.” Wilson thought about adding ‘opposites attract’, but thought better of it. He and House were more similar then most people thought: a passion for figuring puzzles, trouble with their home lives, fairly solitary beings and a huge passion for monster trucks. The true difference came in how they dealt with their problems – or in House’s case, how he didn’t deal with his problems. Wilson thought there were days that House just needed to ease up, take a break, stop taking everything so seriously. He shook his head.

“You didn’t come here to find out about House” he said, turning his attention back to Alexa. “What can I help you with – and who are you? I’m so sorry – I didn’t even ask.”

“I’m Alexa – you diagnosed my mom yesterday with breast cancer. I came to thank you for being so nice to her, and I was wondering what the treatment would involve.”

“Well, Alexa, your mother has an advanced type of inflammatory breast cancer. Unfortunately inflammatory breast cancer doesn’t present in lumps – it shows up more as sheets. We were able to catch it because she actually had a lump present, which is rare.”

Alexa nodded. “You said advanced-”

Wilson gave an internal sigh, and his smile faded a bit. “Yes. It’s advanced, because it’s so tricky to catch it sometimes can exist for a while without anyone knowing. You mom came in with symptoms, and we ran some tests and found the cancer.”

“What are her options? If it’s advanced what can happen?”

“Well, we can do the usual – chemotherapy, radiation. But since it’s so advanced, I’m not really sure. She’s actually coming in this week to go over treatment with me – I’m surprised that she didn’t tell you.”

Alexa smiled. “She did – I was just worried about her. She’s my mom after all.”

Wilson nodded. “Why don’t you come in with her? I suggested a family consult – you’ll all be affected by this.”

“I’ll probably see you soon” Alexa said, getting up and extending her hand. “Thanks so much.”

“You’re welcome” Wilson replied, repeating the action. “Thanks for stopping by.”

He watched Alexa walk out the door, and sighed. Breast cancer was so much more just the patient. He hoped to see Alexa with her family – it would be good for all of them to deal with everything together. He sat back down, behind his desk this time, and looked at the pile of paperwork sitting at his desk.

It will be good to follow this through. Of benefit to so many.

Also it is a really good way to compare the doctoring skills and personality of each man and the boundaries of their friendship.