Wilson sat at his desk finishing up last minute paperwork, it was late pushing nine o’clock. Silence filled his office until it was all interrupted by a knocking on his door. He assumed it was House wanting something for another patient, but when the door opened it was you.
You were a nurse that worked in the oncology ward, every so often you got lunch with him, or you would converse about patients, always casual and polite. He hadn’t expected to see you working so late, but here you were, your hair pulled back, which started neat at the beginning of the day but was now messy. Your scrubs were wrinkled with a small smudge of blood across your abdomen.
“ Can I come in ?”
Wilson set aside his paperwork turning off his computer, “ Of course, come in, sit. ”
A soft smile graced Wilson’s lips, his eyes following you as you sat across from him.
“ So what do you need? ”
“ A favour, it’s a bit uhm- unprofessional. ”
His mind wandered for a moment before answering, “ What’s the favour ?”
“ I- uhm found a lump on my breast. ”
His expression immediately changed from casual and relaxed to tense and on guard.
“ When did you notice the lump ?” He stopped treating you like a friend and immediately saw you as a patient.
Wilson fired off questions and you answered as best you could, “ I’ll have an examination scheduled, a mammogram, and an ultrasound. ”
“ Wilson- I just want you to perform my exam, please. ”
WIlson was hesitant it was highly unethical to perform a breast examination in his office, alone, on someone who was working under him. He cleared off a space on his desk, locking the door to his office. You took your place sitting on top of the cleared space.
“ Untie your scrubs for me, please ?”
You responded with a nod reaching for the small bow that kept your scrubs in place. You slowly pulled the shirt open, taking a soft breath at the cold air.
His hands examined the area slowly feeling for the supposed lump. He found it almost immediately in the side of your lower right breast. He gently pulled his hands away watching as you retied your top. He helped you off the desk and back into one of the lounge chairs in his office before sitting next to you.
“ I’ll schedule all your appointments. It’ll be alright. ” He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder looking at you with his soft brown eyes.
He didn’t tell you but when he felt the lump it raised more alarms, and did little to soothe his worries.
He had caught passing glimpses of you in the hospital halls, you seemed completely unaffected, your smile as bright and bold as ever, your laugh loud and happy as always, that’s why it killed him when he received your tests.
He called you into his office just as your shift was ending, your soft smile still on your face. You looked how you always did after your shifts, messy hair, dirtied scrubs, and yet still a smile on your face.
“ Sit, please- ”
“ You have my results ?”
“ Yes. ”
You could tell it wasn’t good, Wilson couldn’t meet your gaze, his responses short and stale.
“ Wilson- just tell me. It’ll be okay. ”
You reached across the desk gently grasping his hand.
“ It’s Invasive Ductal Carcinoma- We- We’re going to schedule a biopsy for tomorrow, okay ?”
You nodded, still smiling softly at Wilson. He didn’t understand how you could still smile after hearing that news, knowing what it meant.
After a few days Wilson called you back into his office. He couldn’t meet your eyes when you entered the room, he looked tired, defeated. He didn’t speak, only gestured for you to sit down.
“ It’s a grade three Invasive Ductal Carcinoma. It- It’s more aggressive than we thought it to be. ”
He watched as the smile slowly disappeared from your face.
“ Without treatment you may have months possibly a year- with treatment we’re looking at maybe two years. ” Wilson couldn’t raise his gaze from the papers, he knew if he saw your face he wouldn’t be able to hold it together.
“ I can set up your treatme- ”
“ No, I don’t want it. ”
“ What? ” Finally Wilson met your gaze, his brow furrowed, confusion written across his face.
“ I do not want treatment. ”
You walked out before he could get another word in.
Against your wishes Wilson penciled you in for treatment. Your appointment was scheduled for Friday, Wilson came to your apartment on Thursday night.
Wilson stood on your doorstep, dressed in his usual work attire carrying a small take out bag.
“ Can I come in ?”
You moved away from the doorway allowing him in. You closed the door behind him, Wilson set the bag on your coffee table before draping his coat over the back of your sofa.
“ We need to talk about your decision. ”
“ What is there to talk about ?”
“ Well for starters you walked out of my office without even scheduling treatment. You have time, a lot more time than some of our patients. You need to fight. ”
“ Why, just to prolong my death? Just so I can go back to my job where I see what I’ll be in a year ?”
“ You do understand what you’re doing, right? You’re choosing to die, you are purposely ending your life sooner than it has to. ”
“ It’s not your choice James. ”
“ And what about the people who care about you? What about the people you’ll leave behind ?”
“ I’m allowed to be selfish! I am dying James, I will be dead in a year! I want dignity, I want a say in how I die! ” Tears were rolling down your face as you screamed at Wilson. You hadn’t meant to, it wasn’t his fault.
“ Please- just fight, for all you have, or what you might have. You’ve seen people survive this, people make it out. You can make it out. ”
You were a mess, your body trembling and shaking with sobs. His arms came to wrap around your waist pulling you close as your body was wracked with sobs. Your arms clung to his neck, your tears soaking into the collar of his shirt darkening the light blue fabric. His hands moved to hold your face, his thumbs coming up to wipe away your tears. You didn’t know what you were doing as your lips came to meet his.
He kisses you back, desperately as if each kiss could breathe life back into you. His fingers trembled as they threaded through your hair, holding you closer. When you both part your breathless with tear stains down your cheeks. Your hands shook slightly as you fumbled with his tie. Wilson’s hand wrapped around your wrist stopping your movements.
“ No, Not like this. ”
“ Why not ?”
“ I don’t want to do this out of desperation or despair- Not as a goodbye. ”
You paused before looking to him with soft, tearful eyes. “ I’ll get treatment. ”
You held his hand guiding him down the hall to your bedroom. As you entered the bedroom he turned to you taking hold of your face again.
“ This is not a goodbye. ”
He leans in kissing your lips with feather-like gentleness. His thumbs wiped away any remnants of tears, before moving down to unbutton your blouse slowly, reverently, as if you were the most precious thing on earth. He guides you down gently on the mattress, his eyes never leaving yours. He didn’t rush his movements, he took his time undressing you. He didn’t rush, or discard the clothing, instead he set aside each piece of clothing as if unveiling a treasure.
You laid completely bare under the blankets as Wilson stripped off his clothes leaving them discarded on your floor.
Wilson was on top of you now his forearms pressed into the bed caging your head in on either side. His lips met your deep kiss, he takes his time as if he wants to memorize every inch. He used one of his hands to push apart your thighs, before his hips slowly moved forward, and his cock slowly slid into your cunt. His movements were slow, watching your face for any discomfort as he pushed deeper. His hands moved to frame your face, his eyes locked onto yours.
His hips rolled into yours rather than thrusting, maintaining a slow pace. He didn’t want this moment to end, he wanted to prolong this forever, to remember every second. A soft groan left his lips, his hips pushing deeper, increasing in speed slowly. He watched as soft moans slipped past your lips, watched as your eyes fluttered when he hit that soft spongy spot deep inside you.
He began to replace his gentle slow pace with a deeper faster rhythm. He can feel your hips pushing down against his, desperate to take more of him as your moans grew louder. He supports himself on one arm now using the other hand to caress your cheek as he increases his pace further. His breath comes in shorter gasps now, as he felt the knot growing inside himself.
He watched as your hands fisted the sheets that lay under you, the way your back subtly arched. He knew you were nearing your release, watching as you writhed underneath him. He could hear it in your moans, listening as they grew higher in pitch, the way your breathing hitched and your eyes rolled back. He felt your cunt tighten around him, the sudden warmth surrounding his cock. His orgasm crashed over him just as suddenly as yours had, his cum filling you completely.
You lay together in a tangled mess holding one another close, your fingers intertwined with his. Wilson brushed sweat-dampened hair from your face pressing a tender kiss to your forehead.
“ Are you alright ?”
You answered his question with a nod pressing a kiss to his fingertips. You smiled looking up at the peaceful look on Wilson’s face, he looked hopeful, and calm.
These memories were all Wilson had now. There was no hope for you to survive longer. Even if you started treatment the day he diagnosed you it would not have been enough. The treatments were brutal on your body, but they allowed you two years more with Wilson. You traveled, moved in together, even got married. The wedding was a small ceremony only having your closest friend, and Wilson’s closest friend, Gregory House. He scolded Wilson for marrying a dying woman, but he didn’t care even if House was right.
Wilson had held your hand many times throughout your relationship, the first time you had sex, when you received your cancer treatments, and at your wedding. Now he lay next to you in a hospital bed, clutching your frail limp hand. His eyes were red and tired from lack of sleep, and his usual neat appearance was disheveled. He still couldn’t help but look at you with a mixture of love and despair. His heart aching with each beat of the machines keeping you alive.
House’s words echoed in his head over and over again, “ She’s not really here anymore, Wilson. You’re just keeping her corpse alive. ”
He called for the nurses to turn off your machines, he stood by your side clutching your hand with tearful eyes. The nurses turned off your machines one by one, launching the room into an eerie silence. The mountain shaped lines on the EKG slowly flattened out, each number dropping to zero. Every change felt like a punch to the gut, he leaned down, trembling, as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. He felt his whole world shattering as he looked down at your now dead body, what was he supposed to do now? Go back to the apartment you once shared, sleep in the bed he held you in when the pain was too much? He was destroyed unknowing of how he would continue.
