:: This is an Alt.ending to the eppisode: Wilson(6x09). Cameron did never leave though. This is my first fic, be nice. R&R::
House was standing in the observation gallery, watching Wilson’s surgery. Everything was going fine. They had removed the piece of liver and was about to patch him up. Houses leg was not enjoying standing for so long, but he had to stay there and watch his friend. He had to be there for him. House was actually worrying about someone, of course he worried about people time to time, but right now he was letting it show. Cuddy was standing there with him, she looked worried to, but Cuddy always worried.
She could see that House was in pain, it couldn't be good for him standing for so long. She didn't say anything because she didn’t want to trouble his mind any zaidi than necessary. Cuddy could see how much he worried about his friend. "He’s gonna be fine." House nodded softly and reached for his leg.
Suddenly House flinched, not because of his pain, but of what was happening down where his friend was. Wilson’s moyo rate was raising, he was bleeding out. House pushed his face to the glass, his worried look got worse. Wilson moyo rate kept rising, the surgeons was struggling to stop the bleed. Houses eyes went from Wilson to the scream inaonyesha the bleed up close. There was blood everywhere. Wilsons body was filling up with blood. The surgeons were desperately trying to stop it when Wilson flat lined.
The constant beep from the monitor was intense and made an echo in Houses head. He was losing him, his only friend. His best friend through zaidi than a decade was flat lining down there, and it was nothing he could do. All he could do was stand kwa the glass separating him from Wilson and the staff down kwa table. House had never felt so helpless before. The surgeons gave up, the called time of death. A chill went down Houses spine. He was dead, his only friend was dead. He was all alone now.
House wanted to scream. Don’t give up! Don’t let him die! He wanted to run down there and shock him to life again. But he knew it was impossible. Wilson had flat lined, there was no hope for him. He was bleeding out. And House couldn’t run. All he did was stand there in shock. He was looking at Wilson through the glass, a dead Wilson.
House could feel a hand on his shoulder. He looked at Cuddy, she had tears in her eyes. They were pouring down her cheek. Houses whole body was shaking.
The first thing he felt was anger. That selfish, bastard friend of Wilson who didn't even know his popper name. It was his fault, House wanted to down there and kick his cancer ass. Wilson was only trying to be nice as always. Giving a piece of his liver to a friend out of guilt. Now Wilson was dead. Wilson had Lost his life because he was nice. It wasn't fair, but on the other side, what was?
House could feel the tears pushing to get out. He wasn't going to cry, not here in front of Cuddy and the surgeons and nurses. He took one last look down through the glass. The surgeons were patching up his friend. They were Patching him up so he’d look better at his funeral.
House took his cane in the right hand and started walking towards the door. He could feel a jolt of pain shooting up his right leg as he started walking. He didn't mind the pain. Another pain was making him not recognize the leg as much, this pain were zaidi constant and aching, this pain was coming from his heart.
"I'm so sorry House" Cuddy spoke with a shaking voice. He couldn't hold it back anymore. Cuddy’s tears and his dead friend being covered with a White blanket in the background drove him over the edge. The tears forced its way through his eyes. He hated people seeing him cry, but Cuddy didn't seem to mind. She took her arms around his waste and gave him a long comforting hug. He rested his head on her shoulder, leaving it wet of tears. That was the inayofuata feeling; greave.
::Thats it. Should I write more??::
House was standing in the observation gallery, watching Wilson’s surgery. Everything was going fine. They had removed the piece of liver and was about to patch him up. Houses leg was not enjoying standing for so long, but he had to stay there and watch his friend. He had to be there for him. House was actually worrying about someone, of course he worried about people time to time, but right now he was letting it show. Cuddy was standing there with him, she looked worried to, but Cuddy always worried.
She could see that House was in pain, it couldn't be good for him standing for so long. She didn't say anything because she didn’t want to trouble his mind any zaidi than necessary. Cuddy could see how much he worried about his friend. "He’s gonna be fine." House nodded softly and reached for his leg.
Suddenly House flinched, not because of his pain, but of what was happening down where his friend was. Wilson’s moyo rate was raising, he was bleeding out. House pushed his face to the glass, his worried look got worse. Wilson moyo rate kept rising, the surgeons was struggling to stop the bleed. Houses eyes went from Wilson to the scream inaonyesha the bleed up close. There was blood everywhere. Wilsons body was filling up with blood. The surgeons were desperately trying to stop it when Wilson flat lined.
The constant beep from the monitor was intense and made an echo in Houses head. He was losing him, his only friend. His best friend through zaidi than a decade was flat lining down there, and it was nothing he could do. All he could do was stand kwa the glass separating him from Wilson and the staff down kwa table. House had never felt so helpless before. The surgeons gave up, the called time of death. A chill went down Houses spine. He was dead, his only friend was dead. He was all alone now.
House wanted to scream. Don’t give up! Don’t let him die! He wanted to run down there and shock him to life again. But he knew it was impossible. Wilson had flat lined, there was no hope for him. He was bleeding out. And House couldn’t run. All he did was stand there in shock. He was looking at Wilson through the glass, a dead Wilson.
House could feel a hand on his shoulder. He looked at Cuddy, she had tears in her eyes. They were pouring down her cheek. Houses whole body was shaking.
The first thing he felt was anger. That selfish, bastard friend of Wilson who didn't even know his popper name. It was his fault, House wanted to down there and kick his cancer ass. Wilson was only trying to be nice as always. Giving a piece of his liver to a friend out of guilt. Now Wilson was dead. Wilson had Lost his life because he was nice. It wasn't fair, but on the other side, what was?
House could feel the tears pushing to get out. He wasn't going to cry, not here in front of Cuddy and the surgeons and nurses. He took one last look down through the glass. The surgeons were patching up his friend. They were Patching him up so he’d look better at his funeral.
House took his cane in the right hand and started walking towards the door. He could feel a jolt of pain shooting up his right leg as he started walking. He didn't mind the pain. Another pain was making him not recognize the leg as much, this pain were zaidi constant and aching, this pain was coming from his heart.
"I'm so sorry House" Cuddy spoke with a shaking voice. He couldn't hold it back anymore. Cuddy’s tears and his dead friend being covered with a White blanket in the background drove him over the edge. The tears forced its way through his eyes. He hated people seeing him cry, but Cuddy didn't seem to mind. She took her arms around his waste and gave him a long comforting hug. He rested his head on her shoulder, leaving it wet of tears. That was the inayofuata feeling; greave.
::Thats it. Should I write more??::
