#CANCER BEATING WILSON

[malpractisnt]

PLS WHO CODED THIS.

just gonna,, leave these here.

[killjoy-prince]

House M.D. but it's when House says Wilson's name

[supernaturalsuperhero]

Ok literally how did anyone ever think House and Wilson were straight? Just... L👀K

[kellykline]

rsl as a fisherman who got a giant marlin stuck in his leg when it ran him through with its bill but refused to let anyone at the hospital damage the fish on the good doctor jumpscare 💥💥💥💥💥

[soullessbutsenile]

Modern day house MD episode where one of Wilson's patients is a teenage boy with bone cancer in his legs and during his post amputation bed rest he gets really into fortnite and because Wilson is the most pathetic man in the universe he starts playing fortnite with the patient. Wilson wants to beat this kid just once so he practices at home and plays against House. House gets really into fortnite dances and does them whenever he wins an argument with his team. House has Foreman steal fentanyl because he wants to try it for fun. Chase starts an onlyfans. Cameron goes through a press on nail phase and keeps losing them in the hospital. Cancer teen needs another tumour removed but the parents overhear someone talking about Chase's OF and refuse to let him do the surgery. Cameron is in the OR and one of her nails falls off in the patient. House and Wilson miss the surgery because they've been playing fortnite for 48 hours straight (Wilson plays as Miku and House plays as Peter Griffin). The hospital gets sued for medical negligence and Cuddy pulls a loaded gun out of her desk only to reveal it was a mango vape. Rachel is a kick streamer. Taub converts to Mormonism

[vigilante-3073]

Wilson with an intern f!reader imagine maybe? 🤍

Internships & Relationships

James Wilson x Female Intern Reader

Summary: Wilson takes on a medical intern and the lines of professionalism begin to blur.

TW: Workplace relationships, inappropriate jokes.

James Wilson had a medical intern. He didn't usually take on interns and he had a very good reason for it. That reason was his best friend, Doctor Gregory House. House was a walking HR violation and would likely scar whatever poor intern he came across.

Cuddy was reluctant to bring the offer of an intern to Wilson at first. She knew that he was extraordinarily good at his job, but House already commandeered the majority of Wilson's time.

House was a loose cannon that could not be controlled, but Wilson hoped that it wouldn't ruin this apiring Oncologist's experience. Wilson agreed and Y/N started her 8-week long internship with him the following day. She worked alongside him, sitting in on meetings and looking after his patients. Y/N was an amazing doctor and she got along swimmingly with hospital staff.

Wilson knew that she would be an excellent Oncologist and that her patients would be given the best possible treatment.

Cancer was dehumanizing and Y/N understood that. She didn't beat around the bush, but she also had the ability to relay news in a way that made sure her patients understood. Y/N was extraordinary with a light within her that needed to be protected, which is exactly why he had been hiding her from House.

By the sixth week of her internship, keeping her away from House had become exhausting. The man may have had a limp, but he was certainly tenacious enough to figure out what Wilson was hiding.

...

Wilson stepped into his office with Y/N following closely behind him. They had been seeing patients all day long and were finally going to take a moment to go over some patient files.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" House questioned, spinning around in Wilson's desk chair to face them.

Wilson sighed, "House, this is my Intern, Y/N. Y/N this is Doctor House, he's the head of Diagnostic Medicine," Wilson said.

"Nice to meet you, Doctor House," Y/N said.

House stared at her for a moment, "Wow, you are gorgeous. Up top, Wilson," House said, holding up his hand for a high-five.

Wilson shook his head, "I'm not giving you a high-five, House," He said.

House dropped his hand before sitting forward in the chair, "Tell me, you aspiring do-gooder, did you have to send in head shots to land this gig? Wilson is pretty specific about the students that he chooses to sleep with," House said.

Wilson scoffed, "You are just so out of line right now. I don't even- I am so sorry, Y/N," Wilson said.

"No, it's- It's fine, Doctor Wilson, really," Y/N assured.

"House, get out. Now," Wilson snapped.

"Fine, I'll let you two lovebirds enjoy some time alone," House said, standing up and making his way out of the office.

"I am so incredibly sorry about him. I've been trying to keep him away from you, but he's like a dog with a bone," Wilson huffed, sitting down in his desk chair.

"You don't have to worry, Doctor Wilson. Doctor Cuddy warned me about him before I started working with you," Y/N said.

"I'm so sorry... I am mortified that he would even think that was something okay to say to you," Wilson said.

"I mean, you're a very beautiful young lady and anyone would be lucky to be with you like that. I just- I'm your mentor and it would be wrong of me to take advantage of you," Wilson amended quickly.

"Doctor Wilson, we can just pretend this never happened if that would be easier," Y/N offered.

Wilson sighed, "Yeah, that would be amazing," He said.

"Consider it forgotten then," Y/N said, sitting down on one of the chairs in front of his desk.

Wilson watched her as she ordered her patient files on her lap, preparing to go over them after their morning rounds. The interaction with House didn't even seem to phase her and Wilson found himself questioning why.

Cuddy may have made her aware of House's existence before she started her placement, but no amount of preparation could get anyone ready for an interaction with House. He was abrasive, misogynistic and could be incredibly rude whenever it suited him. Y/N heard every remark he made, but they didn't seem to bother her.

Wilson certainly wouldn't be disappointed if Y/N chose to stay at Princeton-Plainsboro after she completed her schooling. He could always use some backup when it came to dealing with House.

...

The final weeks of Y/N's internship flew by and her last day was one that saddened not only the staff, but the patients too. Wilson made sure to get a cake for the occasion and gather everyone in the staff room to celebrate her accomplishment.

Y/N would be great.

There was no doubt about just how amazing she would be. Y/N cared and that would make her an extraordinary Oncologist.

They leaned back on the countertop beside each other as they both ate small pieces of cake. Wilson looked over at her, watching as she took a small bite of her slice.

"Have you given anymore thought to where you want to apply after graduation?" He asked.

"I was waiting until the end of the day to tell you, but I talked to Cuddy a few weeks ago... She actually offered me a job here," Y/N said.

Wilson turned towards her, "Please tell me that you said yes," He said.

"Of course I did," Y/N replied.

"That's amazing! Congratulations, Y/N. You're going to be great... Are you planning on staying in the Oncology department?" Wilson asked.

"I am," Y/N said.

"Really? That's awesome!" Wilson said.

"I'm looking foward to working with you, Doctor Wilson," Y/N said.

"Me too," He replied with a gentle smile.

A heavy feeling had suddenly settled in his stomach, it wasn't until a moment later when he realized what it was.

Wilson was disappointed.

He was interested in Y/N in a way that he shouldn't have been. Wilson was her superior and he would remain in that position for the forseeable future.

Wilson knew that he would never be able to be completely impartial, he always led with his heart and it tended to get him into trouble. Wilson had been walked over by House and Cuddy at times because of their relationship within the workplace. He hoped that if he still harbored these feelings for Y/N that their relationship would follow the same pattern.

If she had chosen to work somewhere else, he may have been able to cope with it, but at Princeton-Plainsboro would the limited distance overwhelm him? Or could this finally be the time he gets it right?

Before he could stop himself, he had opened his mouth and the words came tumbling out.

"Would you like to go for dinner tonight? With me?" Wilson asked.

A stunned look crossed her face and his heart began to pound in his chest. She was his student and he just asked her on a date.

"Oh, I-I'm so sorry. That was completely inappropriate and I am just so stupid for putting you on the spot," He began.

"Wilson," She said softly, he quickly closed his mouth despite wanting to explain himself further and take back his question.

"Are you asking me on a date?" Y/N questioned.

"I- Yes, I was, but you don't have to respond and I promise that I'll never bring it up again," He assured.

"I'd love to go out with you, Wilson," Y/N said.

"Really?" He asked.

She smiled, "You're a really nice guy and if I'm being honest, I've had a bit of a crush on you since I started," Y/N admitted.

Wilson huffed a laugh, "This is the best day of my life," He said.

"You can pick the place, just let me know how fancy I need to dress," Y/N said.

"Yeah, I can do that," Wilson nodded.

The door to the staff room opened, "Y/N, come here, honey. We got you a little something," One of the nurses called.

Y/N nodded, "I'll be right there," She replied, setting her plate down on the counter.

"You can feel free to take off after this," Wilson said.

"Are you sure?" Y/N questioned.

"Of course, it's your last day. Just text me your address and I'll come pick you up after I'm done here," Wilson said.

"Okay, I'll see you tonight," She smiled.

Wilson watched her walk out of the break room with a lovesick smile on his face. Little did he know that in a few short years she would become the fourth, and final, Mrs. Wilson.

[bruh-anator3000]

Another quick fix of Death and the Wolf. Honestly, I wrote this based on a headcannon* and wanting to tie in some more details to this story, but this could honestly be read separately.

Warning: Weed, chronic pain, cancer mentions, they were roomates? Omg they were roommates. Sexual suggests/comments but its all fluff, Wade trying his best and slightly ooc but thats how pain is, Logan's emotionally constipated, and can't get high. No pronouns used for reader. Written in an hour-ish

*h/c: as incredible as Deadpool is, sometimes the cancer really wears his body down. The best cure? Getting stoned.

Pairings: Wade Wilson x Logan Howlett x Reader

~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~~◇◇◇~~~♡♡♡~~

It's not uncommon for you to wake up before the other two. Sleeping wasn't a strong suit of yours, and the couch bed wasn't supportive. It was weird, however, when it was just you for longer than an hour. Usually Logan would've rumbled and grumbled his way through for a morning whiskey.

It would've been something you brushed off and ignored. Let them sleep in, and possibly have the apartment to yourself, but this case didn't feel right. Setting your coffee mug aside, you quietly call for Logan and Wade as you open their bedroom door.

You peek your head in, and find an unusual scene. Logan was awake, his arm wrapped around Wade while reading some book he must've found on the floor. Wade was curled into his side, eyes squeezed shut as his chest rose and fell with huffs.

"Hey," You start softly, announcing your presence. It felt weird interrupting a moment like this, seemed very intimate, but Logan didn't shoot out of bed and start cussing, so maybe it wasn't as inappropriate as you guessed. "Everything okay?"

Logan glanced over, shaking his head. He cleared his throat, planning to explain. Wade beat him to it.

"He pegged me so hard last night," Wade chuckled, wincing slightly. He sounded out of breath. And he wasn't turning around to give you vivid detail of such a night - like he would anytime he had sex.

"His pain's flaring again." Logan rolled his eyes. His hand wrapped around his shoulders gently pats his side.

"Am not." Wade quickly covers, but you've decided Logan was the truthful one a long time ago. "I'm always in pain, I eat pain for breakfast. I don't..."

He tried to roll onto his back to prove his independence. To show off that he was stronger than whatever his body was going through. The second he pulls away from Logan to demonstrate such, he's crying out with a short but loud groan.

The guttural shout made you wince. This has happened before. Wade will never admit it, but his body is his number one enemy. He thought he could laugh this off and pretend nothing was happening, but when your body is at constant war with cancer, you're going to feel it. Invincible as he may be, not even a man like him could escape the chronic pain.

"I'm not in pain." Hoarsely, he whispered. Logan propped himself up by the elbow, holding his chin. Watching this argument crumble into dust.

"So... you don't want to get high?" Sweetening the honey pot, you carefully step into their room and start searching Wade's bedside table.

"I never said that." He slowly, stiffly turns to watch you.

"I guess I'll get stoned by myself." Finding the collector's Wolverine lighter he bought as a joke, you set it aside and keep looking for his stash.

Logan snorts, watching Wade pout. He gets out of bed next. His plain tank and sweatpants fit comfortably around his frame. He walks around the bed and joins your side.

"Check the bottom drawer, under the panel." The grump suggests as he scoots the covers off of Wade, revealing his unicorn printed sleepwear. You do as he says, pulling the bottom of the drawer up. A small mesh bag of maybe four joints sit there. You'll have to get him more soon.

"Up, up," Logan slides his arms under the poor man's stiff body. One supporting his back, the other beneath his knees. Lifting him out of bed like a pretty princess.

"Oh yes," Wade rests his head on his chest. Really mushing his face into Logan's pecs. "Hold me tighter, you big old man!"

"I will drop you." Logan threatens, with no real intention of doing such. The idea alone makes Wade whimper and shut up.

He must be in a lot of pain.

Grabbing the sack of joints, you follow the two. Thankfully, due to your fantastic sleepy skills, you didn't fold the couch back up. Any other day, Wade would've been frustrated and Logan probably would've yelled because he stubbed his toe on the damn thing. But today, it was perfect.

You help Logan situate Wade, placing all your pillows and then some behind him to assist him sitting up. Logan lights a joint, not without smirking at the novelty Wolverine lighter. 'Cheap gimmick,' he would mutter.

"Can we watch Gossip Girl?" Wade leans into your side, his scarred face looking redder than usual. He was really in for it, crazy inflammation.

"You can't get a woody, though." You warn, grabbing the remote and flicking on the TV. "You need to relax."

You search through the recently watched playlist, the scent of weed building. Logan takes the first hit. He always insisted he did. 100 something years in smoking, he knew how to 'start a joint properly.' As if that was a real concern to either of you.

Wade shifts over slightly, turning his head to Logan. Smiling while Logan sighs, shaking his head before doing Wade's favorite party trick. Taking in a lungful and a half, he blows it all out through his nose, smoke curling up and wisping at his side burns.

It made him look like a feral beast. Breathing so hot, he was huffing out smoke. Like a sexy dragon. Wade loved it. Logan only did it because Wade loved it.

"You sexy minx," He puckers his lips, waiting for his hit. "My turn!" Logan chuckles and holds the end of the blunt to Wade's lips for him. Encouraging him with a soft 'there you go,' as Wade filled his lungs as much as he could. He wanted to be so stoned, he forgot what the word 'pain' even looked like.

Finally, it's passed to you. Plucking it from Wade's lips, you take a small hit. You weren't trying to speed run the high. The apartment quickly filled up with smoke and the scent of marijuana. It didn't stop until Wade was red eyed and pretty much passed out on your shoulder. You were out a long time ago, anyways.

Logan was the only sober one left. Unfortunate. He wanted to get stoned, but his system would need at least 200 edibles for him to feel something. He kept his arm around Wade, his hand on your shoulder.

Sighing with a hint of relief. He had been worried all morning. It wasn't normal to wake up to a silent Wade Wilson. Wasn't normal to see him crying first thing in the morning. He was in pain, and Logan didn't know how to fix it. And that killed him.

He hated when either of you were hurting, emotionally or physically. He couldn't help. He could bandage any wound but he wouldn't be any calmer. There were several days where he wished to just share a part of his healing factor with you. Days like these, he wanted to somehow absorb Wade's pain. He could handle it. Nearly 200 years of living, he would put up with the pain because he thought he actually deserved it.

Wade may be a talking dick, but he didn't deserve this. He was a kid. You both were kids to Logan. Everyone was to Logan. Young, dumb, broke,

"High school kids," Wade mutters a tune, finishing Logan's thoughts somehow. Execpt he knew you two were older than college students. The high school bit seemed out of place.

"Go back to sleep, Wade." Logan rumbles, deep in his chest. Pulling him closer, and taking you with him. Gossip Girl played quietly, but he didn't care.

He had you and Wade piled onto his side. That's all he needed.

[shmaptainwrites]

'𝐓𝐈𝐋 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐎 𝐔𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — James and Reader receive some news that changes everything

WARNINGS — Cancer, cancer treatments (chemotherapty, radiation), hospitals, medical emergencies, ambiguous ending, lots of angst and hurt comfort

NOTE — Yeah so this is technically ansgty James fic no. 2 not no. 1, I personally love the way this one turned out but just a reminder that if you find any of the things mentioned in the warnings triggering please don't read it and put your mental well-being first!

James could feel his heart beating out of his chest. The pounding was ringing in his ears, so much so he could barely hear his colleague as he spoke to him. He thought he probably looked stupid, his mouth hanging slightly agape. 

When he turned around to see you, somehow you were taking the news in much better stride than he was, hands curled up in your lap, nodding along as the doctor spoke. 

As his colleague finished speaking he handed you a few papers to look through, but motioned to James, for what at this point James wouldn’t be able to tell, his ears still ringing as the blood drained from his face. On his way out, the fellow doctor patted James on the shoulder. He assumed it was supposed to be reassuring, but nothing could help him at that moment. 

He wondered if all these years this is how his patients had felt, that even with the most gentle delivery, it wouldn’t change the fact that everything was about to change.

You didn’t say anything, simply looking through the papers and placing a hand on his leg giving it a small squeeze. 

He ran a hand through his hair before bringing it down to hold yours that was resting on his leg. He squeezed it so tight, but you continued reading, giving him a few more moments to adjust. 

Eventually, you couldn’t stand the silence any longer, so you broke it. 

“Jamie-,” 

“How are you so calm?” he interrupted you immediately. 

“My reaction isn’t going to change what’s happening,” you whispered. 

He ran his hands over his face, biting back the tears that were pooling in his eyes. 

“I’m sorry I can’t be like that,” he chuckled humourlessly and you simply wrapped an arm around him, pressing a kiss to his temple. 

“I wouldn’t expect you to be,” you murmured. “Not with everything racing through your head.” 

Your thumb brushed across his forehead, pushing some of his hair out of the way. 

“I’m still here,” you whispered. “I’m here now.” 

He sniffed and tried to sit up straighter, wiping his eyes and nodding his head. 

“You’re right,” he cleared his throat. “I-I’m gonna go tell Cuddy I need to head out early. Wait by my office?” 

“Sure,” you agreed. 

James stood up to leave, but you stopped him. 

“Jamie,” you curled your finger, telling him to come closer, which he did, allowing you to press a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you.” 

“I-I love you too,” he held your face in one hand, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “So much.” 

You smiled while he let his hand drop, making his way to Cuddy’s office. He didn’t feel like it was time to reveal the news in its entirety, so he blamed it on a household emergency for the time being, and Cuddy, knowing James would never leave work without good reason, easily let him go as long as one of the other doctors took care of his patients. 

It wasn’t hard to find someone willing to cover for him. James was well-liked and had made a few friends over the course of his time at Princeton Plainsboro. When he came to his office to grab you to head out, he saw you sitting quietly on the couch, reading one of his medical encyclopedias. 

“Are you sure you want to be looking at that?” he asked, his jacket slung over his arm as he leaned in the door frame. 

“I was just curious,” you said simply, closing the book. “Let’s go home.” 

You pushed yourself up off the couch and James wrapped an arm around your shoulder to rub your arm before dropping his hand and intertwining it with yours. 

The drive home started out silent; aside from the music playing in the background. You had glanced through James’ CD folder, picking something familiar and sliding it into the player. 

“Oh come on,” James looked over at you and you playfully smiled. “Really, honey?” 

“I figured we could use some smiles,” you nudged him gently, careful not to alter his steering. “I take it you remember this one then?” 

“Of course I do,” he moved his hand from the gear shift to hold yours. “You forced the band to play it at our wedding, much to their horror.” 

“It’s not that bad,” you chuckled. 

“You sure? Because I’m fairly certain you’re the only one enjoying themselves whenever it comes on,” he teased. 

“You look like you’re enjoying yourself right now.” 

“Only because you are.” 

He focused back on his driving, still steering one-handed. When you pulled into the driveway of your house, you grabbed your purse and James took his jacket and briefcase and you went around and entered from the back door which you had left unlocked. 

After you got settled, changed into something more comfortable and went to sit on the couch, James came up and handed you a glass of water with a Tylenol. 

“How are you feeling?” he asked, sitting next to you. 

“Aside from the headache I’m okay,” you assured him after taking the medication. “Feeling lucky.” 

“Lucky?” he scoffed incredulously. He felt the opposite of lucky and he wasn’t even the sick one. 

“Yeah. Lucky to have you,” you placed the water down on the coffee table before turning in his direction and holding his face in your hands. “Not everyone in my position can say their husband is an oncologist.” 

He nodded his head, “You’re right, they can’t. W-When are we supposed to go in for your first appointment?” 

“Tomorrow. I told him we’d like to start treatment as soon as possible,” you kissed his forehead. “Plus, you can come visit me while you’re working. I’ll be right in your backyard.” 

“You’ve definitely got that right,” he held your wrist and turned his head to press a kiss to your hand. 

You moved so you were laying down with your back against his chest and he wrapped his arms around you and kissed your hair. 

“Jamie?” 

“Mhmm.” 

“Just because I’m trying to stay positive,” you started with a quiet voice, “it doesn’t mean I’m not scared.” 

“I know, sweetheart,” he assured you and ran his hands up and down your arms. 

“Just promise me that even if we’re both scared, you’ll never stop being honest with me. Even if it’s hard and even if it’s looking bad.” 

“Of course. We’re in this together, just like always.” 

His words gave you enough comfort to close your eyes, knowing that with the next little while having many shifts and changes, it would probably be good that you get as much rest as you could. 

��

“Hey, I brought you some food from home for lunch,” James said as he pulled open the sliding door and entered your hospital room. 

“Thanks, but I don’t really have much of an appetite right now,” you admitted. 

“Chemo this morning?” he asked and you nodded. “That’s okay, I’ll just put it here in case you change your mind.” 

“House dropped by to see me,” you said, placing your hands in your lap with raised brows. 

“Oh, now that is surprising. He hates visiting patients.” 

“That’s what I said,” you chuckled, “but he had come to the very rational conclusion that since we were already acquainted and we knew what was wrong with me it was okay to come and say a quick hello.” 

“That’s definitely House,” James nodded. “I hope he didn’t say anything totally off-putting, you know how he is.” 

“It was fine,” you assured him. “He loves you too much to bother me like that.” 

“If it feels like too much to do the treatment here just say the word and we can change hospitals,” James said. “I know there’s lots of people you know wandering around these halls so if at any point you feel uncomfortable just tell me, okay?” 

“I will, but I’d rather be here. It’s close to you and you trust your colleagues, that’s enough for me.” 

“Are you sure? And you’re looking a little feverish, are you hot? And-,” 

“James, please, I’m fine,” you reached out and held his hand. “I love you and I promise I’m okay right now.” 

“You never call me James.” 

“I was trying to put emphasis on what I was saying so you knew I was serious,” you gave him a half smile. 

“You promise to tell me if something feels off? Even now with your appetite, if you feel nauseous we can give you something to help with that.” 

“I promise,” you assured him. “Cross my heart and hope to-,” you stopped, chewing on your words before deciding on just saying. “Cross my heart.” 

“Okay,” he sighed. “I’ll try and let up, but it’s going to be hard.” 

“I know, which is why I appreciate you trying,” you squeezed his hand. 

“My lunch break is almost over. I should probably head back.” 

You could sense he didn’t want to leave, so you motioned for him to come to you so you could give him a kiss to help him get through the rest of the day. 

“You know, you’re still as beautiful as the day I met you,” he smiled at you. 

“The day you met me I was covered head-to-toe in mud and was pissed off like there was no tomorrow,” you laughed. 

“Exactly,” he winked and you rolled your eyes, blowing him a kiss as he walked out of your room. 

James was in decent spirits for the next part of his shift. Even though he was stressed and tired, he found ways to help and connect with his patients along with their worried family members, feeling a new sense of empathy for them and their situation. 

He handled everything as he usually did, but with an extra added care that could only come from personal experience. Every patient was different, some wanted to know every detail and others nothing at all and he did his best to accommodate each one. 

He was speaking with one of the family members later in the day about what the next steps in treatment could look like. In this case the cancer was at an early stage and could be treated by a variety of means as it hadn’t metastasized. 

James was interrupted when he heard a scream of pain coming from across the hall. He would have let someone else deal with it, but he recognized the sound of the voice crying out in hurt. 

“I-I’m so sorry can you excuse me,” he said quickly while running towards your room, seeing you hunched over by your bed, clutching onto your leg while a nurse attended to you and your oncologist ran past James to see what was happening. “What’s going on?” he asked. “What is it?” 

“Looks like DVT,” his colleague said. “We need to get her into an OR to remove the clot.” 

He called for someone to prepare the OR and James quickly rushed to your side, holding onto you while you were still doubled over in pain. His mind was racing, what had changed in the few hours he hadn’t been with you? You were fine before. Was there a cause outside of the chemo? Something that aggravated the situation? 

“God!” you grimaced through gritted teeth, gripping onto your leg as they moved you onto the gurney. “Jamie, it hurts,” you cried. 

“I know,” his hand rested on your forehead, his thumb gently moving back and forth. “I know, honey. They’re giving you something for the pain right now and they’re going to get you to an OR to deal with it.” 

Tears were streaming down your face when they finally injected you with a painkiller and one of the nurses came to say the OR was prepped and they were ready for you to be brought in. James walked next to your bed, his hand in yours until they came past the doors leading to the operating rooms where Cuddy had seen the events unfolding and quickly stepped in, grabbing him before he went any further. 

“Wilson, you can’t go in there,” she said. 

“What do you mean I can’t go in there, I need to-,” 

“She’s your family. You can’t.” 

James blinked a few times before swallowing thickly. Cuddy was right, they couldn’t make an exception for him just because he was a doctor. The procedure would turn out fine and everything would be okay. If only he could play the role of a concerned loved one, but no. He had to go back to work. 

“Take ten,” she said. “Get some water, take a breather.”

James clenched his jaw and nodded his head, moving away from the door and going instead to his office, quickly apologizing to the family member he was speaking to earlier, saying something had come up and he might be a moment. 

When he entered his office and shut the door and squeezed his eyes shut, begging himself not to cry, not when he had to go back to work. Dealing with the cancer treatment when he knew every possible side effect and everything that could go wrong like it was written on the back of his hand was difficult enough, but hearing you in pain, screaming for it to stop almost jolted his heart. 

He took Cuddy’s advice and grabbed a bottle of water, drinking some of it before deciding his best course of action was to get to work, distract himself. 

He went first to finish his conversation then do his rounds before heading down to the clinic before it closed. 

Just as his shift was about to end he heard the sound of his pager go off and he checked it, seeing a message from Cuddy that simply said: 

SHE’S FINE

Allowing him to finally let out a sigh of relief. 

You’d first be in post-op for a day or so recovering from the surgery then they would move you back to your regular room. 

As soon as his shift was over he had a feeling he wouldn’t be going home any time soon, so he searched in his bag for a change of clothes, finding a t-shirt, a sweater, and a pair of jeans and decided to get changed. 

As he walked in the hallway towards post-op he ran into a colleague from the department who was about to make a comment on his attire before he stopped her, 

“I’m off duty. Don’t worry, I’m not turning into House.” 

She nodded her head with a bit of a chuckle before wishing him a good night. 

When he came into your room you were still under anesthesia from the surgery so he pulled up a chair next to your bed and quietly waited for you to wake up.

After the kind of day he’d had, he was finding it hard to keep his eyes open. He felt his head slump and his eyes closed and he couldn’t be bothered to fight the sleep that came. 

Some time later, James could feel a light brush against his arm, pulling him out of his sleep. His eyes blinked open and he could see your arm reaching out for him. 

“Hey,” he rubbed his eyes before leaning forward in his chair, his hand caressing the side of your face. “You’re awake.” 

“That might be a stretch,” you murmured, your voice hoarse. 

“Let me get you some water,” he stood up and grabbed the pitcher and a cup, filling it with water and helping you drink some of it. 

“It’s late, how long have you been here?” you asked, holding his wrist while he came to sit next to you on the bed. 

“Since the end of my shift,” he yawned. 

“Jamie, you have work tomorrow. You should have gone home and gotten some sleep. Or even slept on the couch in your office,” you chastised. 

“And leave you in here alone?” he shook his head. “No way.” 

You moved slightly in the bed, off to the side and carefully turning so you were now lying on your leg that hadn’t been operated on, making just enough room for James to lie down next to you. You patted the empty spot on the bed and he didn’t fight you, kicking off his shoes and lying down with his forehead gently resting against yours and his hand holding your cheek. 

You were still fighting a little against the anesthetic to stay awake and James could see you trying your hardest to keep your eyes open. 

“It’s okay,” he kissed the space between your eyebrows. “Let’s sleep. You’ve got recovering to do and I have work.” 

“Mhmm,” you hummed and let your eyes close, feeling much more comfortable than before now that you were in the embrace of your husband. 

—

While you and James were both grateful the chemo and radiation hadn’t brought on any more complications, it was beginning to get harder to function on a daily basis. Whether it was the battery of tests they performed or the pain and sickness that came along with it and the treatment, it was taking every ounce of energy you had left to not be miserable. 

Unfortunately, James was spread a little thinner and he was miserable. 

You both practically lived at the hospital at this point and he couldn’t stand getting off work only to see that your symptoms from the treatment were getting worse every day. 

“Jamie, I’m sorry I can’t think straight, everything is really foggy right now. You’re going to have to ask him what he told me,” you sighed. “I’ll write it down next time, promise.” 

“Sure, that’s okay,” he held your hand brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “It’s just the chemo, the fog will go away sometime after the treatment is over.” 

“You think we’ll get to that point?” 

“I was trying to be more positive like you,” he teased. “But it might get to that point and it might not. And if it does, it’s because it’s stage 3 there’s a higher chance of relapse.”

“Just means we get to hang out more,” you wiggled your eyebrows and James laughed a little. 

“I don’t know how you do it, honey,” James sighed. “I’d be spinning in circles if I were you. I’d be doing it right now if it weren’t for you.” 

“Just takes a little bit of delusion and a whole lot of denial,” you joked. “And maybe a little bit of worry too.” 

James looked at you curiously and you went on.

“Worry that if I’m miserable then that cute oncologist that keeps visiting me might start to spiral.” 

“Sweetheart,” he whispered. “You don’t have to be strong for me.” 

You were too tired to fight the tears forming in your eyes as you shook your head. 

“If I'm not strong for you, who's gonna do it Jamie? You’re already too busy being strong for me, for all of your patients, for your friends…” 

James leaned in closer to you, clasping your hand in both of his own, pressing a delicate kiss to it. 

“We’re a team. We look after each other,” you stated firmly. “So I’m gonna keep being positive even if this sucks ass because we both need it, okay?”

James nodded his head. 

“Okay, but promise me one thing.” 

You nodded for him to continue. 

“If it sucks a lot and you feel it in here,” he put a hand over your heart. “For the love of God, don’t keep it to yourself. Tell me, we’ll let it suck for a bit and then we can go back to being positive.” 

Your lips trembled a little until you bit down on your lower lip and slowly nodded your head. 

“Maybe it can suck for a bit right now,” you whispered, letting a tear slip from your eye. 

You were quick to wipe it away, but it wasn’t much use as tears silently flowed down your face. The exhaustion, the pain, the uncertainty, it was all getting to you and you just needed James’ permission to let it out. 

James came to sit on the side of your bed from his chair, leaning down and kissing away your tears. Eventually when the tears slowed he kissed your nose before gently playfully biting the tip of it, getting you to look up at him and his ridiculous idea of fun. 

“You look like a rabbit,” you sniffed. 

“Shoot, I was going for a squirrel,” he snapped his finger and you chuckled. “What do you say I do it again and see if I can get it right?” 

“Jamie,” you smiled and placed a hand on his arm, the other wiping the tears from your face. “I love you.” 

“I love you too, always.” 

—

You were grateful for the knock at your sliding door which pulled you away from the hospital food sitting on the tray in front of you. When you looked up you saw one of House’s diagnosticians, Eric Foreman motioning to ask if it was okay for him to come inside. 

You nodded your head and told him to open the door. 

“Hey,” he smiled while entering the room. “I know Wilson is out of town so I figured maybe you could use a little bit of company.” 

“Usually I can survive without him, I think he’s probably worse off, at least I have nice company,” you motioned to the machines monitoring your heart rate and respiration. 

He laughed a little at that before pulling up a chair and sitting next to your bed. 

“He mentioned you don’t really like the food, so I snuck in a little something from outside,” he handed you a wrapped parcel. “Hopefully you find it up to standard.” 

“Thanks, that’s really sweet of you. I was having a hard time imagining how I’m supposed to eat this,” you pointed to the plate in front of you. 

You unwrapped the package and began to eat, in small controlled bites not wanting to aggravate any dormant nausea. 

“So how are you?” Foreman asked. “I mean aside from all this.” 

“Honestly not too bad. I get to see my husband a lot, I have people waiting on me hand and foot, it’s a decent gig being in bed,” you joked. “Although I am exhausted all of the time and find little enjoyment in watching soap operas on such a tiny screen so, really it's a toss up.” 

“Anything we can bring you from home or outside to help?” 

“If I think of anything I’ll let you know,” you nodded. “But company is nice when I have the energy for it. You’re lucky you caught me right after a nap.” 

“I’ll get Cameron and Chase to stop by at some point too. I could also ask House, but he’s not going to listen to me,” he pressed his lips together and you chuckled. 

“No, he marches to the beat of his own drum,” you agreed, “but he’ll come by every once in a while. I can;t decide if his visits are fun, depressing, or maybe it’s just an emotional rollercoaster.” 

“I think his patients would agree with you,” Foreman leaned back in his chair. 

“Speaking of patients, any interesting cases recently you can tell me about?” you asked. 

“Hmm, there was that one a while ago where there was this whole complication with a transplant and organ donation. The transplant committee wouldn’t give the guy a heart because he was in his sixties, and then the procurement team wanted to throw out a heart because it tested positive for Hep. C. Turns out, after House managed to convince the husband to still let his wife’s organs be used, it wasn’t Hep. C. and we were able to treat it and do the transplant.” 

“So you had to diagnose a dead woman in order to save a man’s life?” you asked and Foreman nodded. 

“Definitely one of our more interesting cases.”

There was a comfortable pause where you ate a little more food before coming up with another question to ask. 

“Tell me,” you started. “How’s Jamie when he’s working? I know you don’t work with him directly, but he’s always with House so your paths must intersect a bit.” 

“He’s…” Foreman tried to find the words to describe your husband’s demeanour. “Some days are good and others aren’t, but no one blames him for it.” 

“I figured as much,” you sighed. “Don’t tell him I said this, but if something goes wrong, and something happens to me, I don’t want to leave him like that. We’ve both had really bad luck when it comes to love and I just… I don’t think either one of us would recover from losing the other.”

“It’s really sweet that you think that, but you’re not going to have to find out,” Foreman assured you. “You’re gonna live long enough to get to the point in your relationship where you can read his mind. Telepathy comes after the 20th anniversary, right?” 

You laughed, “Yeah I think so.” 

“Seriously though, even in the off chance that something does happen, Wilson is well-liked here, hell he’s loved. There’s more than a few people that will look after him.”

“Thanks, Foreman. And I sure as hell hope you’re right.” 

—

“God, I missed it here,” you smiled as you walked into your home for the first time since you had begun your intensive treatment. “And it’s clean!” 

“Because I’m never here, there’s probably moldy food in the fridge and dust everywhere,” James chuckled, holding you from behind and pressing a kiss to your cheek. 

“So how long do I get to stay here?” you asked. 

“A few days as long as nothing happens and I asked for some time off so I will be here with you for all of it.” 

“Good, because I need your cooking skills. I think the hospital food was taking the nutrients away from my body,” you exaggerated, taking off your shoes and sitting on the couch. 

“I think that’s probably the chemo,” James corrected you and you shook your head. 

“No, it was definitely the food.” 

“Then let’s get something to eat,” he suggested and put his hand out for you to take. You did and walked to the kitchen together, noticing all the bags of groceries on the floor and counter. 

“I thought you said the food was moldy?” 

“The food in the fridge definitely is,” he assured you. “I just thought it might be a good idea to get something edible for you.” 

“You’re very considerate,” you gave him a quick kiss. 

He made you a quick snack to start and you ate together by the counter before you went to your room and laid down on the bed. 

“Jamie you’re gonna have to drag me away from here when we go back,” you moaned into the pillow. “It’s the little things, really,” you sighed. 

“I’m glad you’re comfortable,” he sat down on his side of the bed, looking down at you. “I hated sleeping here without you.” 

“You clearly didn’t do it often because from what I could remember you only slept at home when I begged you to. That’s why the dark circles under your eyes are just as big as mine,” you lifted your hand to brush against his cheekbone. 

“Hopefully we’ll both get a good sleep tonight.” 

It was wishful thinking. After dinner, you watched a movie together in the living room before calling it an early night and getting ready to go to bed. 

For the first few hours, you were both asleep, James with his arm wrapped around your midsection as he spooned you, but sometime around two or three o’clock in the morning James was awoken by your figure shaking next to him. 

He quickly became fully awake and turned on the bedside lamp seeing you still curled up on your side, sweat dripping from your brow while you convulsed. 

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath and grabbed a thermometer, gently waking you and checking your temperature. 

“Jamie, w-what’s going o-on?” 

He didn’t say anything initially, looking at the thermometer and realizing he had to call the ambulance. 

“You have a really bad fever,” he said while running over to the desk and grabbing the phone. “We need to go back to the hospital, right now.”  

He called 911 and quickly explained the situation to them, packing a bag while he did so. He stayed on the line with them while helping you get up and move to the living room. Soon after the ambulance arrived and he was able to hang up and open the door for the paramedics. 

“What’s going on, sir?” one of the paramedics asked. 

“It-It’s my wife, she has cancer a-and she’s got a neutropenic fever, it’s above 100.4. I’m a doctor, and her oncologist is at Princeton-Plainsboro. If you put her on IV antibiotics we can take her there.” 

The paramedics listened, putting you on the gurney and rushing you out of the house. James slung the bag over his shoulder and jumped in the back of the ambulance with you. He let the paramedics do their job, simply holding on tightly to your hand. 

When you arrived at the hospital, they wheeled you away to the ER. He knew they would have to see if an infection caused the fever and get you stable and bring down the fever. 

He took a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose before heading up to his office to drop off the bag and call your oncologist. 

“Hey, Ted… Yeah we just got here… I just woke up and she was shaking like crazy. I-I thought it might have been a seizure at first, but she woke up when I touched her and I checked her temperature…Yeah, I did all that,” he nodded. “I’m sorry it’s so late I just-,” he bit down on his tongue to stop his voice from wavering. “Okay, thanks Ted, I’ll see you soon.” 

He hung up the phone and bent down over his desk, finally letting his emotions overcome him. 

He hated the way his shoulders trembled and shook so violently, only reminding him of you fighting off your fever down in the emergency room. There had only been a few occasions where James had felt like breaking down over the course of your treatment. This was the only time he allowed it to actually happen. 

His own weight soon became too much to hold and he let himself sink down to the ground, his back against his desk. He sat with his knees almost pressed against his chest and his hands covering his face to stifle the sobs that were escaping past his lips. 

James wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but by the end of it his eyes were red and puffy and all of the energy was drained from his face. In any other circumstance, had he been feeling even a little bit upset or sad, he knew you would always be there to comfort him, to hold him and talk through things, and he felt dejected knowing right now you needed him as much as he needed you and all he could do was sit on the sidelines and hold you hand. Four years of undergrad, four years of medical school, another four for residency and all this specialized knowledge on a disease, and yet he wasn’t even able to put it to much use for the person he loved most. 

It took him a little while longer to feel well enough to walk out of his office towards the washrooms to rinse his face with cold water, simultaneously waking him up and reducing the appearance of his puffy eyes. 

He then decided to go find out where they had moved you to and what things were looking like now. He assumed the fever was hopefully under control by this point and they could figure out if an infection had caused it. 

He ran into Ted who was speaking to a nurse, still dressed in casual clothes and without a white coat. James didn’t blame him; it was much too early to be awake. 

Ted excused himself from his conversation and went to go speak with James. 

“She’s stable,” he said, and the tension in James’ shoulders vanished. “It’s looking like it’s just the cancer that caused it, nothing else we have to treat on top of it. Being away from the IV and other things that were helping her body fight off the fever, it was only a matter of time before it kicked in.” 

“And-And um… what’s the course of treatment?” James asked, rubbing the back of his neck. 

“She’s most likely going to have to stay at the hospital until the cancer is gone. We did some recent scans and I think some of the tumor can be removed surgically, it won’t be too high risk when she’s recovered and then the chemo and radiation will have smaller things to target.” 

James ran a hand across his face and nodded, 

“Can I see her?” 

“I had her moved back to her room on the oncology floor and I got the nurses to put in a cot for you. Just maybe wait until the fever’s gone to share the bed with her,” Ted patted his shoulder as he walked away and James patted his hand in return as a thank you. 

When he went back upstairs to your room, he saw you were sound asleep, having probably been minorly sedated so you could get some rest. He pulled the cot next to the hospital bed and thankful he was already in his pyjamas, he slipped under the blanket and let the exhaustion overtake him.

—

“Jamie, you’re frowning again,” you ran your thumb over the crease between his eyebrows, smoothing it out. 

He held your hand along the side of his face, even though it was tight and a little cramped he loved sharing the hospital bed with you. 

“Maybe, I’m just grumpy. Can I be grumpy?” 

“Sure, but just don’t frown,” you yawned. “Your smile is too pretty and if you frown you’ll get wrinkles.” 

“But, if I smile I’ll get smile lines,” he countered, turning his head to kiss your hand. 

“At least we’d know you were happy. Anyone can get wrinkles, you have to smile to get smile lines,” you traced along his nose and down to his lips. 

“But I’m not happy,” James whispered. “That would be a lie.” 

“You’re not happy?” you looked at him with concern. 

“I promise I’m trying, really hard,” he clasped your hand between his warmer ones, “but seeing you like this every single day makes it really difficult to be happy.” 

You chewed on your cheek, “Guess this has been torture for both of us, watching each other fall apart.” 

“Yeah,” James sighed and looked down at the white sheets. 

“You don’t…You don’t regret marrying me… do you?” you said, your voice below a whisper. 

“No,” he responded quickly, pulling you in closer to him. “Not at all.” 

“The truth, James,” you insisted. “You don’t have to protect my feelings.” 

“That is the truth.” 

You didn’t say anything for a few moments trying to stay in the silence, worried of what would come up if you said anything more. 

“You regret it, don’t you?” he frowned softly, but instead of pulling away he squeezed you harder. You gripped onto his sweater, fighting the emotion in your voice,

“I hate how much I’m hurting you.” 

“You can’t control what’s happening,” he pressed a kiss to your temple. 

“But if you hadn’t met me, if we hadn’t fallen in love-,” 

“I would be just as miserable, but for different reasons,” he lifted your chin to look up at him, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I know you don’t regret loving me and I sure as hell don’t regret loving you.” 

“Then why do you have that look in your eyes every time you see me? Like you can barely look at me.”

James swallowed thickly, the look wasn’t one in absence of love, if anything it was fuelled by that. 

Guilt. 

“I-,” he stopped and took a deep breath. “I should have caught it sooner. You were symptomatic a while before we got you tested for anything and I should have caught it.”

“And if you had caught it earlier we wouldn’t be here right now.” 

“You would have been done with your chemo and radiation by this point, we’d be at home putting all of this behind us, but now even if it goes away…” 

“You’re never going to be able to forget the fact that it could come back.” 

James didn’t even realize he’d begun to cry until you wiped away the tears from under his eyes with your thumbs, gently stroking his cheeks. 

“I don’t think anything I say can help you with what you’re feeling, but not once did I blame you… and I hope you can be kind enough to yourself to come to that same conclusion.” 

“I’m so sorry,” he wept, shaking his head. “I-I didn’t mean to m-make you feel like-,” 

“Jamie, it doesn’t matter anymore,” you placed your forehead against his. “One of the qualities I love most about you is your compassion, your forgiveness, just promise me you’ll try your best to extend the same courtesy to yourself.” 

He nodded his head, his nose pressed against yours and the pillow below you wet with tears on both ends. 

“I love you so much,” he whispered. 

“I love you too.” 

And in the end that’s what you kept coming back to. 

In sickness or in health. 

‘Til death do us part.

@marij0oo

[marc--chilton]

house md pokemon teams, as meticulously picked out by someone who's been into pokemon since birth:

house - cyclizar, audino, gothitelle, mabosstiff, toxtricity amped mode, hisuian zoroark

wilson - blissey, morgrem, male meowstic, cinccino, absol, zoroark

cuddy - kangaskhan, leavanny, male pyroar, jynx, lucario, hatterene

foreman - alakazam, noctowl, ferrothorn, luxray, midday lycanroc, malamar

chase - yamper, komala, liepard, klefki, alolan raichu, lurantis

cameron - sensu oricorio, froslass, crobat, mimikyu, female indeedee, sylveon

taub - alolan persian, glameow, snubbull, starmie, swanna, male oinkologne

thirteen - houndoom, drifblim, gardevoir, sneasler, armarouge, cloyster

kutner - goodra, seel, aipom, quagsire, mr mime, pawmot

notes

people tend to assume that house's ace is one of his 'cooler' pokemon - zoroark, toxtricity - but it's really audino. can mega evolve and everything. he loves throwing people off by bringing him out when running diagnostics (audino have excellent hearing; his can detect heart issues typically only found through invasive testing)

cuddy's hatterene HATES house. and he knows it. if threats of clinic duty doesn't get him to leave her alone when he's bothering her, she'll threaten to get hatty out, and hatty has NO qualms about beating the fuck out of him

wilson doesn't bring absol out at work. with his profession and the species' reputation as doombringers, it wouldn't exactly be a comforting sight. he doesn't even really remember how he acquired her, nor does he know that she's not concerned about his cancer patients but for him.

taub hardly trains his pokemon, making him the most unready for battle of everyone listed.

kutner and his pawmot get into many defibrillator adventures (accidents)!!! quagsire, being water/ground, is unaffected and therefore happily takes up the task of putting out fires when needed :DD

[malinaa]

love the idea of post s6 house amputating his leg. like yes i adore the hilson in s8 even though it makes me wanna tear my eyes out in grief but in fic obviously he COULD have a happy ending in that i think he’d only amputate his leg to get wilson to agree to chemo and he and wilson would have a fight about wilson’s choice to die with dignity (but obv paralleling the pilot where house says we can live with dignity we can’t die with it) and how wilson doesn’t want to be stuck in a chemo suite, suffering and in pain, wanting to die and then house comes in with some variation of that speech he gave taub where he’s like “i’m in pain every day, wilson. i wake up in pain, i go to work in pain and sometimes i want to give up. i’ve thought about it so many times—just ending it. i feel like i’ve been wanting to die longer than I’ve been alive but i’m still here. i’m here because…” [insert a very meaningful pause as house looks away from wilson’s eyes] “because there are a few things worth living for.” then house catches wilson’s gaze again, heavy with meaning.

and then wilson dry-swallows and says, “house…” but nothing would come out.

house says, “if you do chemo, i’ll amputate my leg.”

and wilson startles! he’ll stammer and say something like, “house, what are you—it’s your leg!”

idk if they’re standing or sitting or smth but im imagining house rubbing his thigh or tapping his cane on the ground before saying, “i don’t want to be in pain anymore.” i don’t want to die anymore, goes unsaid. but.. BUT: “but i won’t do it unless you stop being a suicidal moron.”

“that’s not fair.”

“when has life ever been fair. i’m crippled and you got cancer. just do the damn chemo.”

a beat. “okay.”

“okay? really?”

wilson laughs. “what, you didn’t think your speech would work?”

house rubs his thigh again. “i was willing to do anything to get you to agree.” he lets some honesty bleed into his voice. “i’m not living without you, wilson.”

“all right, house,” wilson says. “you won’t have to.”

[all-pacas]

The issue with Cameron is that we as an audience are supposed to find her frustrating. Her role in the group is to be the ethical opposite of House, and we are always, without a doubt, supposed to be on House's side. It's why so many people just don't like her.

The main problem I have is that she just... never changes? She's shown to be wrong time and time again, but she never learns anything from her mistakes, never introspects, and never entertains the idea that she might be wrong. She's so consumed by her own righteousness that it makes her very two-dimensional.

This makes her incredibly underdeveloped compared to not only the men on the show, but also to Cuddy and Thirteen. This combined with her romantic relationship with Chase (and House!) makes her the prime candidate for projection.

I disagree with a couple of your points.

First of all, everyone on the show is contrasted to House. House is always right, we are always on his side. Foreman's entire purpose on the show is to fail time and time again while becoming more like House; Chase by contrast hardly gets any plots or character beats in the first couple of seasons because he's The Asskisser. Cameron is no different. And in fact, although her idealism is often challenged (and never "wins"), she's not really treated that way on the show. Cameron's views are entertained and focused on much more than the others: House couldn't care less what Chase thinks, but when Cameron has an objection it's treated fairly seriously. Again, she's often wrong, but we're meant to be on her side. We see her struggle, we see her cry, we're meant to sympathize with her and her struggles.

Take her subplot in Acceptance just as an example. That's the episode where she meets a nice woman in the clinic with terminal lung cancer, and goes out of her way to not tell the patient and try desperately to find another explanation for the test results. Cameron is shown to be wrong here: the patient really is dying of lung cancer, and it's pretty bad doctoring to keep her in the dark for days. But the episode itself is on Cameron's side. We see her thoughts and her emotions, House and Wilson interact with her, she ties it back to her history and story; the patient becomes an example of Cameron's enormous empathy and compassion (to the extent that no one calls Cameron out at all for malpractice). Your mileage may of course vary as to how successful this is at making her seem sympathetic, but the show very often does this. We get Cameron's POV all the time. We get to hear her thoughts and motivations and are supposed to feel sorry for her. She's not supposed to be frustrating. If she were, we wouldn't get so many episodes that blatantly treat her as right.

You see this a lot with the Cameron/Chase romance plot too. Take Saviors/their engagement for (my favorite) example. The entire episode is focused on Cameron. We hear her feelings, her fears. She's upset. She's scared. She cries. The emotional climax of the episode — the proposal — is framed as Cameron hoping desperately (and tearfully) she'll be proposed to. Although the very same episode has her treating Chase rather poorly, although he broke up with her, that's never lingered on. We don't get anything about his feelings, we never really see his perspective. Cameron is the driver of the action and emotional weight. Again, this sympathy might not translate well. I certainly have my frustrations with this episode. But we're supposed to be on Cameron's side. We're supposed to feel sorry for her and want her to be happy. In Love Hurts we're not supposed to be cheering for House dumping her, we're supposed to feel bad for Cameron.

-

I also very much disagree that she gets no development and is static. First of all, Cameron is shown to be wrong again and again, yes, but not because of mistakes or even her actions: it's her world view that keeps getting challenged; she keeps getting pushed towards cynicism and House-like callousness and refusing. That's a good thing, actually. That's not "being wrong," that's having an optimistic world view. We see time and again in other characters — Chase gets a whole S8 two parter about it; Wilson directly says this to Thirteen — that people get warped by House; they change and become cynical and worse people in acting like them. Cameron is one of a very few characters strong enough to not let herself be warped. To be told over and over again that you shouldn't believe in people or trust anyone, and keep choosing to believe and trust anyway.

More than that, though, she does change. Compare her in S5 to S1! She's so different! She becomes more confident, she comes off as I think a happier person: she jokes, she doesn't dwell, she's decisive. Early seasons Cameron could be hesitant. In Detox she has to stop and poll the guys on if she should tell a patient something she disagrees with; in The Itch she has no problem subverting House's games to treat the shut-in. S1 Cameron quits her job because she can't deal with her crush on House; S3 Cameron quits her job for Chase; S5 Cameron sucks up her fears and gets married. She's a braver, more confident person. Early seasons Cameron over-invested a lot, struggled with decision making and giving bad news: she tried to opt out in Maternity, she mislead the patient in the Pilot in the name of "giving them home." In The Itch she cares about the patient (and, yes, does mess up at one point), but lays out boundaries with him, doesn't over invest.

She's also kind of… gloomy? In early seasons? She's quiet and a little withdrawn and can't deal with loss or failure. She's a bit serious, a little too earnest, very uptight. She's way more cheerful later on, joking around, giving Foreman and Chase shit, giving House shit, even joking about having a crush on House to shut him up. She's very different! She grows a lot as a person!

And it isn't to say she doesn't lose some of her naiveity, either. Because she does. S1 Cameron defended House to the point of denying he was an addict and writing off his every action as "he's a genius!"; by S3 the shine has clearly worn off and she's no longer defending him in the same way; by S4 and S5 she treats him as a peer and not a mentor or figure of admiration — just as an example. Hell, you could even make a real case that the fact that she was even willing to entertain marriage with Chase post-Dibala is a huge sign of character growth/a turn from idealism: she was willing to overlook murder. Completely throw her morals out the window for love. You can absolutely debate how much she really meant it/would have been able to do so. But the fact that she was willing to give it a shot? S1 Cameron would never.

[mrbensonmum]

TV Show - Dr. House | House M.D. XIII

THAT'S A WRAP!

We did it! Last night, the final episode of Dr. House flickered across the screen, and I must say, this rewatch was extremely enjoyable for me, partly because of writing about it. But from start to finish, there wasn't a single part that felt like a struggle, because the series is consistently good.

Cuddy is gone, Foreman is the new head of the hospital, and House is in jail. If that's not a spectacular start to a season, then I don't know what is.

But before that happens—since we still had a few episodes left from the seventh season—we see House completely out of control. First, injecting himself with experimental substances and then surgically removing the resulting tumors from his leg. After that, he tries, in his own way, to make things right with Cuddy, but it's increasingly failing. Even though I can understand some of his accusations toward her to a certain extent, what happens toward the end of the season is anything but justified.

In the eighth season, we see a very bizarre side of House, but one action hints at why he keeps resorting to such strange means. When he makes the immigration office document disappear, forcing Dominika to stay with him, he reveals something that has been subtly apparent all along—that he's incredibly lonely. Not everything can be attributed to this theme, but it does explain a lot! Especially what will happen with Wilson becomes increasingly clear.

Otherwise, Season 8 is another wild rollercoaster ride, not just in terms of the cases but also in terms of character development. During his time in prison, House meets the young doctor, Dr. Jessica Adams, whom he immediately adds to the team when he returns to Princeton-Plainsboro. There's also the suspended doctor, Dr. Chi Park, and after some initial difficulties, Taub and Chase make it back onto the team. From then on, everyone on the team faces some really tough challenges, and the worst one, towards the end of the season, comes to House himself. His best friend, what irony, is diagnosed with cancer. House has to confront many inner demons from then on and realizes that soon there will be no one left who truly understands his character and is also somewhat friendly towards him.

House tries everything to prevent Wilson's death because he doesn't want to lose this important person and also knows that his future would be uncertain without this support. But he's fighting windmills because Wilson has seen and experienced too much already to want to undergo treatment. He wants to enjoy the remaining time he has left.

I particularly liked Wilson's development because at the beginning, he's quite a thin, rather boring oncologist, and in the end, he's the tough, three-day-beard biker with a leather jacket. Especially when he's on the bike and puts on the glasses, he looks incredibly good, even though tragically plagued by cancer, just good!

What I find unfortunate, but can understand from an actress's perspective, is that we didn't see Lisa Cuddy (Lisa Edelstein) again. In the end, when House gets another beating in the burning house, he hallucinates quite a few people, and even Kutner and Stacy are there. On the other hand, Cuddy might have simply taken up too much space, especially after what happened in the last episode of the seventh season. Maybe it's for the best that she didn't show up again because otherwise, it might have felt like the focus was only on their relationship. Instead, it felt more like it was about each person and House, as well as the processing of different periods in his life or his drug addiction.

Whether there's such a thing as a perfect ending for a series, I don't know, but the ending of House comes pretty close. Of course, you're initially a bit disappointed because even though eight seasons are long and an ending can be a good thing, you don't want to let go just like that, and the inner series junkie demands more. But objectively speaking, this ending is really good because we've seen so many facets of House that it might feel forced now if there were more. We see how Adams and Park are firmly established in a team, Chase has finally found his place (I think his development is very good and how much more stable he is compared to the early seasons), and Taub embraces his role as a father. Cameron is also happy, which makes us all happy. And we also get another wonderful look at a still relatively healthy Thirteen, wonderful. Plus, there's that little nod with Foreman finding House's ID under a side table. Judging by his expression, you might think he knows House is still alive but is content that he has found his peace.

As often, I only picked out the really prominent parts from the season! The eighth season is full of interesting cases, exciting interactions with patients and the team, and a lot of new things, compared to the old seasons.

The thing between Park and Chase.

Chase being attacked and seriously injured by a patient (which is used to give him the necessary distance and make his team takeover make more sense)

Taub, who has a pretty established presence but still hasn't quite found his place in life

Foreman, who doesn't know whether he should be like House, like Cuddy, or just like Foreman as the head

What happens next? I honestly don't know yet. Yesterday, I looked around a bit and then decided on Bullet Train (2022). I still have to continue with Halo, but maybe I'll wait until the season is finished and then binge-watch everything in one evening, we'll see. But one thing I know is that I feel like watching something in the crime genre again!

[irenespring]

House MD Fanfiction: "Observation" (House/Wilson)

My Wilson's cancer arc fix-it fic is finally completed! On this episode of Research, we see Scary Immunology Intern finding the cancer in time for Wilson to live happily and healthily ever after. Here is the fic: Observation.

I am sorry it took so long, and am so grateful for everyone's patience, support, and kind words. I love this fandom :)

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Fic Preview:

Over his career, Wilson has learned that early detection is the most important factor in a patient beating cancer. He knows this. He knows it so well he can say it on autopilot. But as House says, doctors never think they can get sick. So it's a good thing someone else in his department isn't asleep at the wheel.

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Please heed the tags! This is a cancer-arc fic so the angst gets pretty heavy before the happy ending.

[wilsonsmcgillsweatshirt]

Honestly, I think one of the biggest ways that we can see how much Wilson's cancer diagnosis affected House was through the whole ticket scenario. Obviously, House plays pranks, he always has, it's nothing new. But since getting out of prison, he has been so careful not to violate his parol. Don't get me wrong, he was upset that in his mind, Foreman was trying to replace Wilson, but I don't think that's why he reacted the way he did. At least not fully. He wasn't completely sure that his actions would lead to the damage that they did, but House isn't stupid, he had to have known that it was a possibility. He acted rashly and impulsively and tried to play off his actions like it was just a joke. We see all throughout the show that when House feels cornered, he lashes out and hurts himself and the people around him. I think he acted out because he was scared and he didn't know how to cope with it, so he did what he always does and became destructive. Like I said, House is an extremely smart man, I refuse to believe that he didn't consider that his actions would result in the destruction that they did. And it makes me wonder if it was House's way of punishing himself or if it was his attempt at hiding. If he was sent to prison, he would be leaving Wilson involuntarily, so he could pretend like it wasn't his fault. He wouldn't have to face the situation or watch as Wilson got sicker and sicker and eventually die. Instead, he could sit in a jail cell and pretend like everything was fine and avoid it all. Or maybe he blamed himself. Maybe he felt guilty. Maybe he felt like he didn't deserve to be there for Wilson in his final months, and he thought Wilson deserved better then him, so sending himself back to jail was the kindest way to separate them so that Wilson could be surrounded by others. He could've blamed himself for not realizing Wilson was sick because he never even considered it until Wilson told him. I can just see him beating himself up over the idea that, who doesn't realize their best friend is sick with cancer? How could he possibly have missed it? Was he truly that self-centered and selfish that he paid so little attention to his best friend that he completely missed the fact that he was dying? Or maybe he thought back to all the times he screwed Wilson over, and all the times he hurt him and manipulated him, and he thought that Wilson deserved better in his final months. I'm not sure which it was exactly, and maybe it was something else entirely, but I believe with all my heart that Gregory House, whether consciously or unconsciously, was trying to get himself sent back to prison, before he changed his mind and realized that he wanted to, needed to, be there for Wilson.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Hello! I just found your blog and I absolutely love it! I love your kiss masterlist, and I was wondering if i could request one. Number 23 in relief. With Iceman x reader I just think they would be so adorable! Can’t wait to see what you do!

Hiya! Here's Kiss #23 - in relief - with Iceman x reader. This one actually became really angsty and I love how it turned out! I hope you love it too!

A Kiss to Celebrate (The Beast's Gone Away)

Cancer. It’s been as much a companion in your marriage as your husband has been of late. It reared its ugly head out of the blue. Hearty, hale, healthy forty year olds aren’t supposed to wake up one day and just not be able to talk? Right? Forget men with families - Naval Captains with hearts of gold, keen eyes and the kindest hands?! They should never be struck down at all.

But maybe you’re a little biased. This isn’t just any forty year old Naval Captain you’re talking about. This is your husband, your Tom. You thought it couldn’t possibly get any worse, the shaky partnership you’ve formed with the beast ravaging your husband’s body and tainting his soul. Then you’d woken up one morning to your three year old laboriously fluttering her little hands in painstakingly drawn out signs as she sat on her father’s lap and told him, “Good Morning Daddy. I love you.” That’s when you realized that your youngest probably doesn’t even remember what her dad’s voice sounded like. That’s when you’d broken, shattered into a million pieces standing there in your kitchen watching your baby and your heart speak in the only way they could. 

In your weakest moments, you cursed everything you could think of for trying to rob Tom from you. But even then, you knew you wouldn’t have changed anything in the world. Your entire life would be different, and you’re not sure it would be a good difference, either. So you’ve been holding onto the good moments, taking things day by day, focusing on being there for Tom and your kids as much as you can. Each day your foundation feels a little steadier as Tom responds to the treatments and as the flush of health seeps back into his cheeks.

“Captain and Mrs. Kazansky? Doctor Wilson is ready to see you.” Your palms are sweaty and damp as you follow Tom into the Doctor’s office. You must black out, emotionally, at least, because the next thing you remember is walking in the wintery San Diego sunshine with Tom. He’s mostly silent, with his arm wrapped around your shoulder as he leads you to a bench at your favorite look out point. It was here that he’d proposed to you a decade ago. It was here you’d told him you were pregnant, the first and second times. All of the best things in your relationship happened here. Please, you’re pleading as you sit down - please don’t destroy this place by telling me bad news. Please don’t take him away from me, from our babies.

“Sweetheart?” That’s not what you’d been expecting at all.

“Tom?!” Your voice chokes on a sob. “You’re speaking! Is that okay? I thought you weren’t supposed to strain your voice.”

“I’ve been working on speaking again with my speech therapist. It’s what Doctor Wilson wanted to talk to us about. I’m in remission, sweetheart. The cancer’s gone. We’re going to keep monitoring me, but I have the feeling it’s going to stay gone for good.”

You’re sobbing, tears dripping down your face in hot, salty rivulets as you kiss your husband gently and sweetly. 

“I’m so happy, Tom. I love you.” His smirk is soft as he pulls away.

It doesn’t surprise you at all when he signs back to you, “I love you. I told you I wasn’t going anywhere without you, sweetheart. I love you too much for that.”

It’s with a finally unburdened heart that you curl into your husband’s side to watch the sun set below the waves. If Tom can beat cancer, becoming an Admiral should be child’s play. The future once again looks bright.

Want to request a Kiss and a pair for me to write? Guidelines are here.

Want to see other Kisses I’ve written? Here’s the full Masterlist.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

[suc1d3-1z-th3-0nly-3sc4p3]

hello everybody today I would like to give a shoutout to our beloved Sid poop Wilson for beating breast cancer

you go girl

I mean they