fandom_clinic | (no subject)

Entry tags:

(no subject)

House fell into a restless sleep with Wilson's head on his chest and his hand in Wilson's hair. The fact he hadn't taken his usual double dose of Vicodin kept him from going completely under. He remained aware of every movement from he man next to him.

It was close to four when he sat up, suddenly pulled out of the fringes of sleep with heart racing. Wilson had rolled off his chest, and buried his face against House's side.

Migrane House knew, without question. He'd seen the signs building last night.

He took a few minutes, in the dark, to comfort Wilson before sliding out from under the blankets. He scrubbled a note and limped out to post it on the clinic door.

Clinic Closed, due to personal emergancy. If you have an emergancy and require medical attention, contact Dr House via his pager. Do not page Dr house unless you have a valid medical emergancy. Do not attempt to page Dr Wilson. For any reason.

That done, he went back to the apartment, made sure the blinds were pulled shut and tuend upward to block as much light as possible, then crawled back into bed next to Wilson. With his pager on Vibrate.

[OOC: Wilson!mun is away from the computer all day. House!mun is away from the computer until...whenever...Could possibly be here by 3:30 EST, not likely before due to work. If youhave a medical emergancy...Please understand the muns are away. It would be really groovy is one of the active assistants could open the clinic for the day and negate House's memo. But understandable if that's not possible. Thanks]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ooc: Before I get hauled off...*whimper*]

Wilson didn't get migranes often but when he did they were the debilitating sort that earned him emergency leave from the hospital with admin approval to turn off his pager.

Half the day was going to be spent throwing up, the other half wondering just why the body would choose to turn on itself like this and if it were particularly bad he might give cutting off his own head a shot.

For the time being, he was pressed up against House's side, trying to hide from the lights exploding behind his eyelids and wishing that the blood in his veins would move just a little more quietly.

shoot me.

Jonathan arrives at the clinic after being dismissed by Professor Morpheus from the Dean's office. An NPC assistant helps him.

((ooc: it's possible that someone came in and helped him after the NPC assistant, I'm just getting my stuff done))

[ooc: Still around to be doctored upon?]

"Doctor?" Jonathan calls.

Wilson had just been coming in the back from having been down in town, his face pensive and he was lost in his thoughts.

But not so lost that he didn't hear Jonathan.

"Jonathan?" Wilson called back as he walked up towards the front of the Clinic, brows knitted together worriedly.

"Hello Dr. Wilson," Jonathan says, hands in his pockets and slouching. There's blood and bruising all over his face, he's smiling anyway. "Just couldn't stay away again. It must be you."

As he got closer, Wilson did a bit of a double take and then he was moving quickly to the young man, reaching to gentle take Jonathan's face in his hands, tilting him up towards the light.

"Or it could be the multiple lacerations and contusions. Jonathan if I ask you what happened...can you tell me?"

Jonathan laughs, wincing at the way it pulls his face, "Reading is fundamental Dr. Wilson, remember that," he tells him, he points toward an exam room, "this way?"

"Like all good stories in the world, it was about a girl and unlike some of the better ones, you wouldn't notice if you saw the other guy."

Wilson blinked and stood back so that Jonathan could lead them to the exam room. Turning on the lights as he cleared the threshhold, Wilson waved Jonathan towards the table, though Jonathan probably already knew the way.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with a certain picture I've heard vague rumors about?"

"Got it in one Doctor," Jonathan says watching Dr. Wilson through lazy eyes, "people these days they'll bring out the torches and pitchforks for nothing. Last I heard, cunnilingus wasn't illeagal in the state of Virginia," he says, looking at his reflection in one of the many reflective surfaces in the room and touching his nose every once in a while. He winces each time.

"What do you think doctor, think my face will ever recover?"

Hands gloved, Wilson returned with antiseptic and other items he would need to clean Jonathan up.

"Virginia law prohibts sex with the lights on and anything except missionary. I kid you not."

Don't ask where he picked up this factoid, chances were it came from a drunken bullshit session with House.

Reaching to once more tilt Jonathan's face up towards the light, the oncologist mehhed.

"I think you'll recover...though you might have an interesting sort of bump on your nose. It looks broken. You get worked up anywhere other then on your face?"

Jonahan shakes his head, "Figures, times like this I wonder why I ever left Gotham.

I only got hit twice, but it's surprising how much two punches can hurt when they're in the right places. But it was only my face doctor, I swear.

Do you think I'll ever live my dream of becoming a teen model?" he asks, carefully striking a pose that was still relatively ridiculous and smiling.

"Did you ever have that dream to begin with?" Wilson snarked back, not unkindly as he carefully began to clean Jonathan up.

"Are you trying to say I'm not as pretty as the other boys?" Jonathan aswers, pouting, it makes him wince again but he smiles.

"You better stop that or that split lip of yours is never going to heal."

Was Jonathan flirting? Naaawww, not with one of the resident old farts.

"I could be one of those models that's meant to look a bit disreputable. A cut over one lip, I'll sneer instead of pout and model tight jeans and designer underwear," he tells him holding his hands out like a camera in front of himself. He mimes taking a few pictures of Dr. Wilson.

"So tell me Doctor, you look like you had a past in modeling, any tips for a young boy on his way up?" he asks batting his eyelashes.

Wilson blinked and then he set down the anticeptic he'd been using to clean up the worst of the cuts and quite seriously he began to run his fingers through Jonathan's hair, checking his scalp for bumps.

"Did you get jumped from behind, Jonathan?"

"No," he answers slightly amused, "He pretty much attacked me straight on. My chair fell over, but I didn't hit my head or anything," he laughs.

"I'm sorry if my purely aesthetic appreciation of your physical appearance is causing you distress doctor," he says turning away from Wilson.

Lowering his hands, Wilson turned to pick up the cleaning towel and he started on the last of the cuts.

"I believe, you were appreciating your own physical apperance, Jonathan. Any appreciation of my own was a secondary to that."

There was no hurt or anger of any kind in his tone, in fact he was friendly and maybe a little playful but in a manner that was more avuncular then flirtatious.

"Now Doctor, simply because I was worried about my own good looks first, doesn't mean I appreciate your pretty face any less," Jonathan teases.

"You know, I actually had something to talk to you about. It was about my job here at the clinic," he says in a tone slightly more businesslike... slightly.

"We had a project in Ethics a little while ago, I'm sure you heard about it, everybody heard about it, and I got paired with a girl because my friend, the TA figured since she had a minor health problem I'd be a perfect partner since I worked at the clinic. Of course I then had to explain that I didn't really do that kind of work here.

It kind of got me wondering that I should learn some basic first aid or something, in case I'm the only person in the clinic for whatever reason, I can help while we're waiting for you to answer our page. Then I thought that it might be a good idea for you to teach some kind of short class or something in basic first aid.

Always useful to have around in case of zombie attack, squid monster of toaster sentience."

Wilson might just...have blushed.

Maybe.

But if he had it was quickly forgotten as he turned his attention back towards finishing up.

"There...about as good as new as I can make you at the moment. Time, aspirine and cold packs will have to do the rest."

He arched an eyebrow at Jonathan and then moved to beging cleaning up the used pads.

"It's funny you should mention that. Something along those lines has been on my mind recently but...despite that I think that it would be a good sort of class to have for any and all clinic volunteers for just the reason you noted. You really think you'd be interested?"

"Got it sir, I'll take it easy for a few days, try not to stop any more people's fists with my face. I'm looking to beat you out for 'Pretty Boy at the Clinic' of the Year Award. Not going to help if my nose is ruined forever," he says with a wink.

"And definately Doctor. The clinic is mostly staffed by people who know what they're doing but some of us are here with mostly non-medical backgrounds. You and Doctor House reply to your pages as quickly as possible but if there are basic things we can do right away that could end up being a really big help to you it might be worth it. I'd like to know that if some one came in while I was alone in the clinic during my counseling hours I'd be able to be a little more proactive than just page you," he says jumping down from the exam table and leaning against it.

"We're having a contest?" Wilson said in a slightly bemused tone, smiling at Jonathan as he finished cleaning up and then leaned back against the counter with his arms cross over his chest.

"It's a good idea, Jonathan. I'll discuss it with House and we can see what might be worked out."

"Oh there will be, prepare to be pwned," Jonathan tells him a smile in his voice as he raises his eyebrows theatrically, but not theatrically enough that he'll re-open any of his cuts.

"Thanks, I really think it's the best idea for working with what we've got. And also, thanks for fixing me up. If you'll excuse me, I have to go get eaten by the Dean, wish me luck," he tells Wilson as he heads out of the clinic, "Oh, and give my very best to Doctor House!"

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only