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Silver Bay 2.2: Better



Silver Bay 2.2: Better

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TITLE: Silver Bay 2.2: Better
SUMMARY: Some improvements matter more than others.
CHARACTERS: Wilson, House, OCs
RATING: R for language and themes (gen fic).
WARNINGS: This is a very alternate universe. Adult themes and adult language.
DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em. Never will.
NOTES: The beginning of the second part of the Distress Call Universe. Links to all chapters of this wild AU are here.

"Captain ordered better quarters and a good meal for you, sirs," says Interchangeable Peon Number One. Peon Number Two mutely guides the autochair into place beside the bed.

They're armed, House notes. Of course. Both guards watch him, either aware of his nature or just sensing, with whatever remnant instincts the vulgaris still have, that even in his injured state House is more dangerous than Wilson.

Wilson says nothing, simply standing by and waiting.

"Define 'better,'" House demands, but the peons have nothing more to tell him.

The walls in here are a clean, calm, pale blue. House supposes it's meant to be soothing, the color of a gentle lake, a cloudless sky. A nice, fresh vial of merstellin.

Damn, his leg hurts. The pain travels like poison, up past the hip and into his spine, into his gut. While Wilson scarfs every scrap of brownduck and rice, fresh salad, cream custard, House can barely manage three bites. With each taste, his body telegraphs its distress. If he pushes this, he'll wish he hadn't.

"You've got to eat," insists Wilson, pointing his fork at House. House would like to stab him with it. "It's good."

"I'm in pain, you nitwit. Stay close. When I vomit, I'll aim for your shoes."

"I'll ... take this away, then," Wilson says, clearing both their plates from the table. "I've cleaned up too much of your puke as it is."

"If we're having a 'poor me' competition, you lose."

"I lose at ... being a loser?" Wilson's putting everything -- except House's dessert, which he's eating -- into the coolbox. "Doesn't that mean I win?"

"Do you ever shut up?" A fresh wave of pain rolls outward from House's thigh, ending what little patience he might have had for this game.

Wilson takes the hint, turning his attention to their new, improved cage. He actually seems interested in this place, as if there were something he could learn by testing the beds, feeling the texture of the sheets, inspecting the tiny, spotless kitchen.

Better quarters and better food are worthless to House; all he really wants are better drugs.

"There's a caff unit," Wilson remarks. "The real kind. Coffee." He seems to hope that somehow, this will improve House's mood.

"I know what a caff unit is, you moron."

Wilson stops yammering and climbs onto one of the beds. He turns the vidscreen on, flipping quietly through subether feeds, ignoring House.

Good, House thinks, and then wonders if it'll be possible to sleep in the damn autochair. He'd much rather be in bed, but the pain of the transition would be too great to overcome without chemical assistance. Like it or not, he's staying put.

"Is that ... pentaxanol?" Wilson demands, staring at the vial of pink pills in Royston's puffy hand. "That's what you've been giving him? Have you even seen his leg?"

"Mister Wilson --"

"Doctor Wilson." Wilson stands up, his hands moving to his hips in that universal symbol of disapproval.

"Wilson," growls House, "shut up. It's fine."

"It is not fine. You need merstellin."

"I'm not dispensing something that strong," Royston huffs, "without evidence of significant nerve damage."

"The pain," Wilson insists, "is all the evidence you should need." It's a great point Wilson has there, but now is not the time. "Your patient can barely eat."

"Shut up, Wilson."

Wilson doesn't move, doesn't look away from Royston's twitchy pink face. "We're either prisoners, or we're not. If we're not, he's due the medical treatment he needs. If we are, we have a right to know what offense we've committed. If you can't explain our situation, I'm sure your Captain can."

"Very well." Royston puffs himself up in a stance that's probably meant to convey authority, but looks more like a groundling trying to ward off a wasptiger. The (armed, naturally) green-uniformed goon who came with him glances at House with what looks like apology, or pity, or some other useless sentiment, before trailing Royston out the door.

Bastards. They're all bastards, including -- especially -- the ever-helpful Wilson.

"You're going to get me killed," says House, flatly, after the men have gone, "and I'd like to remind you that your own health will suffer if that happens."

"You mean it isn't suffering already?" House is still surprised at the sharpness that hides beneath the soft surface of Wilson's voice. "I've been meaning to ask how many years of my life you've been draining away."

"You have asked. None." It's the truth; it's just not the whole truth. House will -- provided they live through their Adventures with Captain Jerome -- get rid of Wilson long before the whole truth needs to be told. "None," House repeats, and when he turns his back, Wilson doesn't bother talking to him any more.

Jerome doesn't show up. Another doctor does, with that same poor schlep of a guard who'd accompanied Royston.

This doctor is short, with sleek black hair pulled into a tidy ponytail. Her name tag reads Makano. Half Royston's size, she moves quietly, easily, with no particular grace but also with no fear. It's apparent Wilson appreciates that, although from the way House feels it would be difficult for anyone to be frightened of the big bad blood-sucker right now. He's nauseated, sweating profusely, and his usual verbal barbs require more energy than he can spare.

"Give me that," House orders, reaching for the syringe in her coat pocket even as Makano swabs a spot inside his elbow. She steps back.

"I can't allow you --"

"Yes, you can," Wilson interrupts, gently. "He's a doctor. Didn't Jerome tell you?"

"Insurance regulations are not negotiable. Hold still, Doctor House."

"Nine milligrams," House rasps. It comes out almost as a plea, and he grimaces in disgust.

Makano blinks, but she draws up the full nine mil.

The last thing House feels as he drifts away on the pretty merstellin-clouds are the hands of his damn pet vulgaris, slipping under his arms to help him to bed.

Idiot, House thinks. Don't want ... your help. Got to --

And then he's gone.
  • (no subject) -
    • We've been working on it. Look for a little more sometime tomorrow afternoon.

      • Yippppeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!! and Yes I am totally addicted too!!!

        And we get a little somethun somethun tomorrow. I am sooooooooooo! happy.

        This chapter was so perfect, just like the others.

        Okay so here are my questions:

        Is House going to remain wheelchair bound?

        In their new quarters, are the beds tiered or side by side?

        Why does House still think the captain wants to kill him? Why is he so afraid of being exposed?

        Doesn't Wilson have to let House feed on him in order to survive? If so, what is the other part House is not telling him?

        Is the Captain going to tap into House's medical genius at some point?

        • Wilson wants to know whether being House's source will shorten his own life span, and if so, by how much.

          House says it won't. This is true.

          That's all we're going to tell you for now.

          The layout of the room is pretty standard. No bunk beds. ;-)

          As for House's worries: if you were a haemovore, how paranoid would you be?
          • Interesting that the fact it won't shorten Wilson's life span is only part of the truth. Is it lengthening it? It'd make sense; source animals wouldn't be very useful if they died every couple of years or so, and something about Jerome's conversation with and observations of Norian gave me the impression that perhaps haemovores live longer than their vulgaris cousins. It'll be interesting to see some of the more subtle effects of voracin on Wilson. Does it inspire loyalty/devotion/something similar? Because that would also make sense. It'd be kind of hard to keep wild animals as stock, so voracin having a taming effect would be a good evolutionary adaptation. I can't wait to see what happens next. :D
  • i LOOOOOOVE! this story! i mean it! it's awesome! the only thing that could make it more awesome is more frequent updates! because it's so awesome!
  • It's funny because I am SO not a science fiction fan, but I feel every bit as addicted to this story as poor Wilson is to House. I also just re-read this over the weekend, and what a wonderful surprise to come home to it after work. I love the little bits/clues you throw in. Wilson's surprising sharpness with House, his willingness to stick up for him, and that last bit about House's thought about Wilson -- "his damn pet vulgaris." Oh how I love that line.

    I can't wait to read more. Thanks so much for this.
  • Yeah! update.

    Glad to see the boys doing "better," though I have to wonder how House plans to get rid of Wilson later on.
    I had been getting a craving a couple days ago for this and have been trying to resist going back to the last update and begging for more lol!

    Are you going to be back to a semi-regular posting schedule now?
  • Happy to see an update - and that another is coming soon - and an interesting chapter as well.
    I like the hint that their relationship involves some other change Wilson is not yet aware... and I can't help guessing that House's hope of 'getting rid' of Wilson won't come true... thus making the story even more complex and intriguing.

    also, I like Makano. From this few moments, she seems a level-headed and no-nonsense person, which I like.
  • My most sincere apologies for not posting before this but this is the first time I have not been months and months behind. I also apologize that my vocabulary is not wide enough to come up with better compliments than have already been posted.

    I leapt into the Aftershock universe after seeing the discussion over at House Fanfic Recs and Hall of Fame and became completely addicted to your writings both as a group and individually (although I am still exploring the individual efforts of each contributor I have not hit on a duff note yet).

    After "Aftershocks" I really had to take a break. Everything else dulled in comparison. Many of my favorite fic writers works just seemed too bland after that tour de force. Last month I finally treated myself to "Distress Call" and once again have been totally sucked in (like that should be a surprise to anyone)!

    You have the character's down cold like you had created them. And the OCs and universes you create as so vivid, real, and plausible (this one is very plausible for the genre). The House and Wilson we have grown to love on the show have been adapted so seamlessly into this universe that nothing rings false of seems off kilter.

    You guys have mastered the dropping of clues, suspense and cliffhangers so a reader wants to keep reading as long as there are chapters to be read. And even when you are finished, we all want more. That is an amazing feat and a true talent.

    Add to that the difficulty of pulling together four separate writers, with their own distinct style, and blending that so smoothly that one cannot differentiate from the other. And to do that so effortlessly is beyond amazing. I know, it is probably not effortless behind the scenes but that just makes it all the more stunning that the finished produce shows no hint of that.

    And the cherry on top...

    You care about your creation! Not that other writers do not but you seem to make a special effort to make sure things are just right (and have made comment to that effect) before posting anything. As impatient as I may get for another chapter I will happily wait for as long as it takes when I know what comes next will be as gripping as the last.

    Thank you from the bottom of my heart for combining and sharing your talents. If there were some reward out there for this it should be yours!

    And kudos also go to the other readers. What wonderful comments, thoughts, and discussion! I enjoy reading the comments almost as much as the story itself. I hate to jump in a ruin it all.
    • Thank you, from the (black) bottoms of our hearts--your comment was a wonderful addition to the discussion, and we hope to hear from you again!! (and thank you, too, for your lovely comments about Aftershocks. We are always humbled and pleased when people enjoy what we write!)
    • Hi!

      Yes, we do care a great deal about getting it Right, and that really is why this universe in particular takes so much time.

      We've got another chapter in the final "quality control" stages right now, so you should see that either later today or tomorrow morning.

      Welcome aboard! We're always happy to meet new readers and it really makes us smile to get feedback like this.
  • I was thrilled to see an update yesterday, and saved your story for the last to read because it goes down like dessert. The cherry was discovering that there will be another chapter coming out today. Happy dance! XD
  • Oh I forgot about this chapter.

    Wilson feeling better and eating all the food including House's dessert and House yelling at thim to shut-up. LOL I love Wilson. :)

    This was a gut twister too. Wilson fighting for House's medicine and then helping him to bed as House drifts off to sleep was priceless.
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