"Why can't you do this simple thing, House? Why can't you?!"
"This isn't a simple thing, Wilson. This is me going into a rehab center."
"Why can't you just accept that you need help?"
"Because I don't need it. I am perfectly fine. I am in perfect control."
"You said the exact same thing when you first had the surgery, Greg."
"Shut up, Wilson."
"If you won't do this for yourself, why can't you do it for me?"
"Why on earth would I do it for you?"
"Because I love you, that's why!"
A stunned silence greeted the two men. Settling between them and stifling them.
House's blue eyes turned cold and his expression hardened, "I don't feel the same. Now if you would kindly leave my office and stop pestering me, Dr. Wilson, I would like to finish with this case."
Wilson could feel the heat rise in his face. The tears wanting to well up at being rejected so harshly. But he wouldn't let himself give in to his emotions. At least not in front of the man who caused them.
"Fine. I will leave you alone to your work, Dr. House."
He walked as far as the doorway and then he stopped, turning his head slightly to say, "It's your life. Screw it up if you want. Spend it in a jail cell, in a rehab center, or in a shack, I don't care."
House looked up vaguely at the spot that was vacated by the other doctor for a moment and then went back to his work, never expecting that man to occupy that space ever again.