At the End of the Day, a house, m.d. fanfic

A/N: This is my first fic, so criticism is welcome.

Disclaimer: I do not own House M.D. or the characters of House and Wilson, they belong to David Shore and Fox, and the song, Angel, belongs to Sarah McLachlan.

Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that would make it okay
There's always some reason
To feel not good enough
And it's hard at the end of the day

It had been a difficult case. There was no way anyone could have solved it all of the symptoms pointed to cancer. But he had been expected to find the cure. God, why did he care so much? He had killed a little girl. No he hadn't killed her he had tried to save her! Everything was getting to be too much. Work, his leg, how he pushed everyone away. House leaned forward, put his hands over his face, and sighed.

I need some distraction
Oh beautiful release
Memories seep from my veins

He knew he couldn't make it alone tonight. Drugs wouldn't do it. Besides Wilson was the one who prescribed his vicodin pills. House didn't know what had happened to him. It was almost as if the floodgates had opened and all his emotions were coming back to haunt him.

Let me be empty
And weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight

Wilson walked in to House's apartment to see him sitting on his couch, head in his hands. House hadn't heard him. That was unusual. He was usually the most alert person Wilson knew. It wasn't until he got closer that he noticed how distraught his best friend was. He called his name to no avail. He walked forward cautiously and touched the shoulder of the man who had been his friend through three failed marriages and ten long years.

In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold hotel room
And the endlessness that you feel
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your silent reverie
You're in the arms of the angel
May you find some comfort here

House looked up suddenly into his friend's eyes for only a moment before he broke contact. Wilson was shocked by the pain and uncertainty in the bright blue he looked into. He sank to his knees in front of House and wrapped his arms around him. House wavered for a second that felt like eternity, and then leaned into the embrace. "What's happened to you?" Wilson meant the question to be rhetorical, but he heard the voice answer "Wilson… don't leave."

So tired of the straight line
And everywhere you turn
There's vultures and thieves at your back
And the storm keeps on twisting
You keep on building the lie
That you make up for all that you lack
It don't make no difference
Escaping one last time
It's easier to believe in this sweet madness oh
This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees

Wilson knew House. He knew that he tried to be perfect. He knew he covered everything up with emotionlessness to avoid pain. God knew he didn't deserve it. Deep down House was just as afraid as anyone else… if not more. Putting on his tough guy façade was just a way to preserve his dignity. But Wilson wanted to believe, deep down, that House was just as human as everyone else.

Finally the tears began to fall. House was surprised but he couldn't say he wasn't expecting it. Just as he was surprised by how he was letting Wilson hold him like this. He wasn't five anymore. But it felt so good to have a source of comfort. House eventually fell asleep with his head on Wilson's shoulder, Wilson gently rubbing his back. Wilson looked down at the sleeping man in his arms, smiled, and kissed his forehead before laying him down on the couch and settling in for the night in the chair next to the couch close enough to hear House's breathing.