Disclaimer: I don't own House, M.D. Or "Cry" by James Blunt.

A/N: This is a songfic about House and Wilson to James Blunts "Cry". My best friend says it sounds like a song about us, so why not a song about House and Wilson, too? The only thing was, some parts are things House would say, and some are what Wilson would say. So I've decided to do two chapters of it, one from Wilson's POV and one from House's. R&R as always! Thanks. Enjoy! SPOILERS from last week's episode. So if you haven't seen it, don't read. Or read, but know that you'll know a little of what happens. And also major spoilers from the Tritter arc. And season one two. Oh, what the hell. Let's say all three seasons' spoilers! K.

HOUSEHOUSEHOUSE

Wilson was sitting in his office at his computer, composing an email to his second ex-wife, Bonnie. He was trying to convince her that he didn't mind still paying alimony. That she could still have her independence and have some of his money. That he didn't mind. He signed the email with "James" and signed off. He backed away from the computer and picked up a file on his desk.

House had just left. He was trying to convince him to have sex with Cuddy. "Come on, you know you want to. You have to, if you want to end this relationship!" "NO. NO. NO!" However, that was how most of their conversations went.

How had he managed to wind up with a best friend like that?

He needed some music. He pressed the Power button on his radio and listened to "Cry" by James Blunt as it filled his office. Great. A song that reminded him of himself and of House.

I have seen peace. I have seen pain,

Resting on the shoulders of your name.

He knew part of it was that he'd been...drawn in by House's attitude. The way Wilson knew that, at the first moment he looked at him, that he'd had a hard life and seen a lot of pain. It made Wilson comfortable around him. It made Wilson feel that he wasn't the only one who'd had a hard life.

He remembered the first time he'd seen him. He had been working at PPTH for about three months when Cuddy had hired House. Everybody had been talking about it. He was getting a cup of coffee in the Oncology lounge when he heard Dr. Peters talking to Dr. Alamins about it.

"Yeah, can you believe it? Cuddy hired House, the Gregory House. What a dumb, or bold, move."

Alamins had responded with, "Man, I can't stand that guy. He's such an arrogant prick."

James had asked, "Who's House?"

Peters rolled his eyes and said, "Gregory House. He's like, the infectious disease/diagnostic king. He knows everything there is to know, but he's just about the biggest prick you'll ever meet. Cuddy hired him as head of diagnostic. You better stay away from him, James. You let Gregory House in…he'll probably mess with your head." Wilson, however, had officially become curious.

Later that week, House had taken up shop in his office which was down the hall from James'. James went down there at lunch, his bag of potato chips and tuna sandwich balanced in his hands.

He walked into the cluttered office just as a very scruffy doctor, (then cane-less) was taking a bottle of whiskey out of a box and setting it on his desk. "I'm Dr. James Wilson, head of Oncology. Just wanted to, um, say hi. And welcome to the staff. My office is down the hallway, if you ever need anything. You know, procedures, questions, anything."

House nodded curtly and then did something Wilson would never forget. He didn't say anything; not thank you, same to you, go to hell, anything, but he grabbed Wilson's bag of potato chips and turned back to his desk.

Do you see the truth through all their lies?
Do you see the world through troubled eyes?

Everybody lies. Well, it wasn't like Wilson could say House had never taught him anything. He had an extraordinary talent, House did. He could look at someone and instantly know if they were lying to him. It frustrated him and pissed him off to no end, but he could tell.

And did he ever see the world through troubled eyes. When that thing with his leg…and then Stacy…well, he didn't want to think about that part of House's life. It had been terrible. And hard, on him and House. He wouldn't wish something like that, something like watching your best friend become crippled and even more bitter than before, on anyone.

And if you want to talk about it anymore,
Lie here on the floor and cry on my shoulder,
I'm a friend.

After his infarction, and definitely after Stacy left, he'd made it clear: if House ever needed him, to talk with him about anything, then Wilson was there. "I mean it, House. You ever need me, I'm there. All you have to do is call and I'm right there." But, Gregory House wasn't the kind of person who liked to talk about anything emotional or personal. According to him, there were no answers. No clear cut answers, so what was the point in talking about it?

The only things House was really comfortable talking about were women, criticizing the hospital staff, criticizing his ducklings, and Cuddy's ass. The last time Wilson had checked, House's crippled leg and his (no longer existing) relationship with Stacy didn't fall into any of those categories. So, for the sake of both, Wilson had just dropped it. He had given House a knowing Super Jimmy look and plopped down on his couch.

I have seen birth. I have seen death.
Lived to see a lover's final breath.

But it wasn't like Wilson hadn't seen his share of unhappiness in his life. He'd seen many babies born in the NICU. He'd seen countless numbers of his patients die. In fact, more of his patients died than survived. He'd seen his girlfriend in high school, the woman he'd loved completely, die in front of him. That damn car accident…he often thought. Why couldn't it have been me?

Wilson laid his head down on his desk and thought about Amy, that beautiful girl he'd loved so much. He'd held her blood soaked hand at the site of the crash, blood and tears running into his eyes and down his own cheeks, and watched her die. He was still sure of the fact that if she hadn't died their senior year, he would be married to her right now. The love of his life…House wasn't the only one who'd had things taken from him.

Do you see my guilt? Should I feel a fright?
Is the fire of hesitation burning bright?

Damn Tritter. When Wilson had turned House in…House seen the intense guilt he'd been feeling. Sure, it was what was right, but it didn't mean he didn't feel guilty. What kind of friend was he, turning his best friend in? And besides, it wasn't as if Tritter wasn't at fault here, either.

He'd never seen House that way. He hadn't known it was coming, just as Wilson hadn't known it was coming. He didn't know, even as he was walking down the hallway to see Tritter that he would tell on him. But then he had, and it had happened, and he'd seen the look of betrayal on House's face. That feeling of…knowing. Knowing that things would never be the same between the two of them had washed over Wilson.

And if you want to talk about it once again,
On you I depend. I'll cry on your shoulder.
You're a friend.

Deep inside, very deep inside, Wilson knew that if anything ever came up, he could go to House. But it would take a lot for him to go to his best friend and cry on his shoulder. He also knew deep inside that House would probably mock him at first. "Poor baby Jimmy," he might sneer and then see that Wilson had really lost it, and maybe comfort him. Wilson depended on House, too. Not as much, but he knew he depended on House, for the laughs, the comfort and all that snark he knew House was good for.

You and I have lived through many things.
I'll hold on to your heart.
I wouldn't cry for anything,
But don't go tearing your life apart.

They had gone through so much together. The Vogler issues. The Stacy stuff. The Tritter stuff, and that had been by far the worse. Their friendship had been tried at so many junctions in both of their lives. However, Wilson knew that no matter what happened, no matter how much House might hurt him, there was some part of Wilson that would always hold to House's heart and hope for the best for him.

He would always try to convince House not to ruin his life, because he knew his words meant something to the man, even if he refused to admit it.

I have seen fear. I have seen faith.
Seen the look of anger on your face.

He had seen fear on House's face. When he'd found out about Vogler trying to get rid of him…he had been scared. And he'd been scared when Stacy dumped him. He knew what Stacy had brought to his life, and being without her scared the hell out of him.

He'd also seen faith. He'd seen, back when his infarction happened, the faith and trusting in Stacy. He'd trusted her to honor his wishes, and know that what he thought was best. And then he'd been put in that coma, and when he'd woken up and found out what Stacy had done…Wilson never saw that look of faith and trusting on his face ever again. Except when he talked to Wilson.

And anger…the most anger he'd seen on House's face was when he found out Wilson had "tattled" to Tritter. Found out about his, oh, go ahead, his betrayal. House had been so angry that Wilson didn't doubt he could have hurt him. Wilson could have hurt himself for that look of anger he'd put on House's face. And that was also when Wilson saw the look of trusting and faith disappear off of House's face for the second time, and possibly forever.

And if you want to talk about what will be,
Come and sit with me, and cry on my shoulder,
I'm a friend.
And if you want to talk about it anymore,
Lie here on the floor and cry on my shoulder,
Once again.
Cry on my shoulder,
I'm a friend.

The last words of the song faded out and Wilson listened as the last chords died. He snapped off the radio and stood up. Maybe he'd go find out if House wanted to play a game of foosball. And maybe he'd see if he could get that trusting look back.

HOUSEHOUSEHOUSE

A/N: What'd you think? R&R please. I'll have House's POV up ASAP. Thanks for reading. :)