pairing: James Wilson x Daughter!Reader
summary: Wilson delivers some devastating news to his daughter.
cw: cancer, house s8 spoilers even though its like 11 years old, death of a parent (mentioned), angst,
a/n: okay, so this ones pretty heavy but is kind of written off of my own personal experience but if I had a good relationship with my parent, but anyway I digress. I hope everyone at least enjoys some angst, as always, feedback, likes and reblogs are always appreciated.
You couldn't face this. You hadn't spoken to your dad in weeks after he had broken the news to you - He had cancer and wasn't going to do chemotherapy. He had only told you after the surgery he had undergone proved unsuccessful, deciding he wasn't going to spend the last months of his life in a chemo suite, he had sat you down and told you, which resulted in an argument between the two of you.
The four words lingered heavily in the air between the two of you. At first you waited for the kick of the joke he was obviously telling you, because that's what it was, right? A joke? Your dad couldn't have cancer, it wouldn't make sense. Wilson could see that you were taking in what he had told you, so didn't say anything, opting to let you process what was going on.
"What?" It was all you could manage to say without your voice breaking, anything more and you would have certainly burst into tears as you realised that your dad wasn't really joking. Wilson sighed heavily, swallowing the lump in his throat as he looked at you. You were 22 now, in your senior year of college, studying to become a lawyer, but now, to your dad, you looked like a scared little girl.
And maybe that's what you were - A scared little girl who was terrified to lose her dad.
"I have cancer," You clenched your eyes shut as you shook your head, as if refusing to accept that this was happening. "And I'm not taking chemo." He sounded too definite on that for your liking. What did he mean, 'not taking chemo'? Did he not want to get better?
"Why not?" You didn't want to come across as angry, but you just didn't understand. Wilson sighed yet again, he understood your frustrations, House had reacted the same way when he had told him.
"I don't want to spend the last months of my life in a chemo suite, Y/N," You scoffed and shook your head, if he was being honest, this wasn't far off of how Wilson expected you to react. "I don't expect you to agree with my decision or be happy with it-"
"You're being selfish. How can you do this?" Now this was the reaction that your dad expected - He knew you would be hurt, be angry, how could you not be? Your dad was essentially sealing his own fate and he was entirely okay with it. "You're not even going to try and save yourself?" Your voice broke as you looked at your father, your bottom lip trembling as your mind raced.
Images of your father, sick and frail in a hospital bed plagued your mind - you forced yourself to hold back a sob at the very thought of it.
"Y/N, there's every chance that if I take the chemotherapy I'll either get sicker, or it won't help. At least this way I'll be able to spend what time I have left with you and with House," You shook your head at his explanation, how was he okay with throwing away his life like this? "Please, honey.
"No, dad. I'm not going to sit around and watch you deteriorate. House might be okay with that, but House is your friend, he can have new friends when you're gone, I can't have another dad," You tearfully ranted to him, unable to look him in the eyes for the fear that you would break down. "I'm sorry, dad."
The worst part was that Wilson totally understood your reaction - how else were you supposed to react to news like this? He nodded, accepting your response to what he had said - Accepting your response doesn't mean it didn't hurt him. Did you think that making that decision was easy for him? That he was fine with what he was doing? That he wouldn't get to do so many things with you? He wasn't expecting you to understand, but thought it would be worth an attempt - which clearly proved futile.
You sighed as you parked your car outside of your dads apartment building, sighing as you looked up to the third floor, looking at the window which belonged to your bedroom, which Wilson always kept ready for you in case anything happened which meant you needed to come home - to you, this building wasn't home, and neither was the apartment which you spent your entire childhood and teenage years in, it was the man in the apartment who felt like your home, your dad. It made you feel sick to your stomach that in a years time when your dad was no longer here, that that apartment would be some new families house, and the children would find their home in their parents, while the home you found yourself in was no longer here. They would paint over the walls which you and your dad had painted together, even though he had done most of the work, and with painting over the walls, they would paint over all of the memories you had made in that house, erasing any trace of you and your dad having lived there.
Since your dad had broken the news of his cancer to you, the world had been black and white. In 4 swift words, the colour had been drained from your life, life plans you had made with your dad torn away by a brutal disease, nothing was funny - Not even Chase's jokes poking fun at Taub made you laugh anymore. All you could think about was how your life crumbled around you in those 4, venomous words.
Sighing, you shook your head and rubbed your eyes of the tears which threatened to spill from them. You hadn't spoken to him since the day he had told you of his illness, and you had even ignored his many attempts to contact you, through both calls and texts. Guilt had begun to gnaw at you though, here your father was, at this point 5 months to live, and you were ignoring him. The next time he called you, you decided to answer and arrange a date to talk things out and explain to him why you react in the way that you did. Getting out of your car, you did your best to compose yourself as you made your way up the stairs of the building to the apartment. Your hand shakily hovered over the door, it felt like a pit had opened up in your stomach at the thought of seeing your dad. Before you could do anything else, your hand acted without the input from your brain, and your hand rapped on the hard wood of the door before you could change your mind. You heard shuffling from behind the door before it opened, and your breath caught in the back of your throat, in relief, if you will, as your dad was revealed behind the door.
You expected him to look, well, for a better lack of terms, terrible - You had heard of cancer patients who had become emaciated shells of their former selves, almost skeletal in their forms; but your dad? He just looked like your dad. If you were good enough at lying, which you weren't and your dad would attest to, you would have convinced yourself that he wasn't dying, it felt like you were seeing colour again after it had been drained from your life. But then you remembered he was dying, and suddenly the world became black and white again.
Your bottom lip began to tremble as you looked at your dad, your eyes filling with tears as you stepped into your house, Wilson shutting the door behind you and studying the back of you as you stood in front of him, your back facing him.
"Y/N-" Wilson stumbled back as your threw yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him tightly as you sobbed. He frowned as he put his arms around you, realising that although indirectly, he was the cause of your sobs and your pain.
"I'm sorry," was all that Wilson was able to make out from your crying - He knew that you were apologising in regards to your reaction, but he was able to understand why you took the news the way that you did. "I-I'm not ready for you to not be here, dad." Wilson frowned as he felt tears bubble in his eyes, looking down at you - Yet again seeing a terrified little girl who feared nothing but being without her daddy.
But for some reason, this time felt different, because this time that's how you felt. For the first time in your life you felt scared to actually be without your dad.
"I know, honey, but it'll be okay," Wilson didn't know if it would be okay, if you would be okay, but if it gave you some assurance for now, it would be fine. "I love you so much, and I always will, even if I'm not here." You felt like a child again, he was assuring you like you were one, but you felt oddly safe with that sentiment - you felt at home as he wiped the tears away from your face with one hand, while the other ran up and down your back. You treasured the moment in which you were able to feel at home, as you feared you didn't have many of these moments left.
But that was why you treasured them, right?
