Title: Hate
Summary: You knew your own share of hate, oh yes. Especially in the way he looked at you...
A/N: Inspired by the hatred in House's eyes when he looked at Wilson after Tritter left with the deal, and the look in Wilson's eyes when House ODs.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. If I did, Cameron would wake up and see that Foreman's awesome.

Chapter One: Deal

"So, when is he coming in?" You look up, annoyed. You only talked because House was becoming a menace, and Chase would've been fired. You didn't care about your car or money. Your dignity had been erased too many times to be mad about that. You needed to help House, to do something. Going to this crackpot was the only way. You still don't like it, though.

"I don't know." You say, kicking back and looking around. He would be mad at you for a little bit, but for all the things he's done... He deserves a bit of his own medicine. You look around and pick up his magic eight ball. You wonder idly if you did the right thing as you stare down at it. You shrug and give it a shake, watching the little message come up.

"Dr.Wilson?" A voice interrupts your train of thought and you look up, guiltily replacing the ball. Cuddy stares at you through the glass, a look in her eye that you can't identify, but it's one that makes you squirm and look away. You look back and she's gone-Only the look that she gave you remains.

"Is he always this late?" Tritter's voice invades your thoughts again and you turn to glare at him. "It's no wonder he's a horrible doctor."

"He's saved the lives of thousands." You say acidly, watching his eyes sharpen. You can almost hear what he's about to say and you cut him off, smirking. "You're right. I defend him even when there's nothing to defend him with. It's what friends do, Tritter. You should find some-Really fascinating creatures." You turn your gaze back to the window, ignoring the cop.

"Your problem, Dr. Wilson, is that you care too much." You hear him say calmly. "You've grown too attached to Dr. House, no matter how many times he's slighted you." His voice grew sharper and you finally look at him again. "Tell me, James, do you really think that he would do for you what you do for him?"

"I think Jimbo and the mad cop should get out of my office." A voice interrupts and you turn to see House, glaring at Tritter the same way Cuddy glared at you. "So, get out."

"House." You say, standing up. He glares at you and you look away. You always look away, and you can almost feel his satisfaction. "Please." You say, looking at the floor in an obvious plea.

"We have a deal for you. Thanks to Wilson's information, we can send you away for a long, long time and take your right to save lives. However..." Here Tritter shakes his finger, a sadistic grin growing on his face, "we will accept two months in rehab and a guilty plea." House glares at you again, and you look away again. It's a vicious cycle with you two, one that always leaves you the loser.

"Here, I have a better deal. The sadistic cop and the weasel doctor both get out of my office and I don't get all over you with my cane." House smiles as if this was some big thing and you grit your teeth.

"This isn't a game!"

"Get out of my office!"

"We'll leave." Tritter says softly and you turn, your face contorted in your rage. "The deal ends in two days. You know where I'll be." He left and House turns his stare back at you, the foreign look still pulling at your mind.

This time, you stare back.