He sighed as he leaned back against the headrest; eyes closing as he tried to stave off his impending migraine. It had been a banner of a day. He had delivered two death sentences, one to a young boy's family and had been approached by every member of House's team at one point or another during the day to do something with their boss who was being worse than his usual intolerable self. It was long after hours, his own paperwork mostly done, but he couldn't bring himself to leave. Everyone else had all scattered to their various after work pursuits, but Wilson stayed put. He knew Sam was home because he turned off his cell phone to avoid the incoming calls and texts asking him when he thought he would make it home.
He just needed a few quiet moments to settle his thoughts and the increasing pounding in his head. His couch would have sufficed. It was long enough for his frame and the cushions soft and yielding, but he couldn't relax there without seeing the broken, distraught look on the mother whom he had informed that it was unlikely her son would live to see his teens. It wasn't just his couch, his own office was no longer a haven for him. It hadn't been for a long time, at least when House wasn't in it. For a long time now, especially when he and House were not getting along and when House had been at Mayfield, when he needed to relax and hanging out with House wasn't an option, he would find himself sitting in House's darkened office after hours. Stretching out in House's Eame's Chair, surrounded by House's books, medical journals, knickknacks and even House's faint scent; he usually found relaxation obtainable.
Tonight was going to be a little more difficult he realized as he felt the ottoman being pushed out from under his feet, brown eyes meeting blue as his flew open.
"Kicking me out of the apartment wasn't enough, pushing me out of my office too?"
Tonight was going to be a lot more difficult he thought, reappraising the situation.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2010-07-20 09:48 pm (UTC)He sighed as he leaned back against the headrest; eyes closing as he tried to stave off his impending migraine. It had been a banner of a day. He had delivered two death sentences, one to a young boy's family and had been approached by every member of House's team at one point or another during the day to do something with their boss who was being worse than his usual intolerable self. It was long after hours, his own paperwork mostly done, but he couldn't bring himself to leave. Everyone else had all scattered to their various after work pursuits, but Wilson stayed put. He knew Sam was home because he turned off his cell phone to avoid the incoming calls and texts asking him when he thought he would make it home.
He just needed a few quiet moments to settle his thoughts and the increasing pounding in his head. His couch would have sufficed. It was long enough for his frame and the cushions soft and yielding, but he couldn't relax there without seeing the broken, distraught look on the mother whom he had informed that it was unlikely her son would live to see his teens. It wasn't just his couch, his own office was no longer a haven for him. It hadn't been for a long time, at least when House wasn't in it. For a long time now, especially when he and House were not getting along and when House had been at Mayfield, when he needed to relax and hanging out with House wasn't an option, he would find himself sitting in House's darkened office after hours. Stretching out in House's Eame's Chair, surrounded by House's books, medical journals, knickknacks and even House's faint scent; he usually found relaxation obtainable.
Tonight was going to be a little more difficult he realized as he felt the ottoman being pushed out from under his feet, brown eyes meeting blue as his flew open.
"Kicking me out of the apartment wasn't enough, pushing me out of my office too?"
Tonight was going to be a lot more difficult he thought, reappraising the situation.