"Oh, Wilson, this is just getting sad," House smirked at his friend who stood in the doorway with a duffle bag thrown over his shoulder.

"Can I borrow your couch for a while...again?"

House wrinkled his nose and looked up and away from Wilson in thought. "You know...I just don't think I can because you see," his glance fell back upon Wilson, "I sometimes use it to sit on while I watch TV and-"

"House!" Wilson screamed out desperately. "You really think I like that it came to this?" he asked, with an expression of sadness.

"Nooope. But, I do," House opened his door wider and gave Wilson a grin as he watched him walk passed him into the living room and he swung around to see Wilson set his bag on the left side of the couch. "So, what happened this time?"

"I don't really know," Wilson answered, face distorted in thought when turning back to face House who was closing the front door. "There was a lot of screaming. I was half asleep and I guess, I said something that upset her. Next thing I knew she threw some of my stuff in this bag," he pointed down to his feet where he put it, "and shouted 'get out.' You were the first person I thought to go to."

"All the hotels close down?"

Wilson scowled at him, bent down and grabbed the strap to his bag, "forget it," he announced when he picked it up and threw the strap over his right shoulder. "I'll go get a room somewhere," he said sulking and started walking in House's direction who still stood near the door.

"Oh calm down, you can stay," he started to limp away and over to the kitchen and smiled amused over at how confused Wilson looked over the mood switch. "Man, she really messed you up, didn't she? You look like you've never seen me act like an ass before and take it back."

"Nnnooo, it's not that," Wilson said slowly, turning his body to face House's movements, "I just don't know you're reason for taking it back."

House came back into view after disappearing for three seconds with two beers that he held in his left hand by the necks without disturbing his cane hand. He extended his arm to offer Wilson one and he shook his head no. "If it's all the same to you, House, it'd like to get some sleep."

House shrugged and kept the second beer for himself. "Alright, fine. Go to sleep at 10pm like an old man. I don't care," he watched from the entryway of the living room from his kitchen as Wilson sat down and fluffed the right side arm rest cushion to use as a pillow. "You going to sleep with no blanket?"

"I have a jacket," Wilson answered. House shook his head and limped over to a closet, set the beers down on the table next to it, and grabbed and threw a blanket at Wilson's head, then picked the beers back up. "Thanks, House." House nodded at him and turned to go to his room. "House," Wilson called out and saw he turned back to face him. "Thanks for taking me in without giving me crap over it...and, you're not going to do anything to me in my sleep are you? Like last time?" He smiled, "of course not...go to sleep," House announced, and turned back to the hallway that led to his room when Wilson laid down, stretched out on the couch to get some sleep.

Two hours later House left his room and wandered down his hall and stopped in front of his couch, hovering over Wilson who looked like he was sleeping peacefully. He sighed at his friend as he heard and watched his chest rise and fall as he breathed heavily and rhythmically. He lifted his cane and poked Wilson in the stomach with the tip. "Wilson!" he shouted loudly.

Wilson jerked awake and moaned in irritation when he realized what had happened. "Let me sleep, House," he mumbled.

"You've had enough sleep. Wake up time. Come on, you need a beer," House said cheerfully as he walked to the kitchen to grab him one.

"No, I need sleep," Wilson said more irritated then before. He heard noises that sounded as though he may be getting further and smiled sleepily to himself that he seemed to have gone away. Just as that thought crossed his mind he felt a tug at his right arm then and a body push against his to sit up as he took a seat where Wilson's head was just laying. "House, I'm tired." Wilson told him, pleading with him.

"Sorry, one beer. You have to at least share that with me for me letting you in."

Wilson sighed, figured the best thing to do is get it over with. He took the beer that House held in his hand and downed it as fast as he could and slammed it down on the coffee table when he was done. "There. Now Please-"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm going," House said with a smile as Wilson slumped back into laying position once House got up. He slipped his hand in his pocket to make sure he secured the cap to his Vicodin bottle and grinned to himself when he went back to his room.

Wilson woke up at 7:08 the next morning and took in his surroundings, remembering where he was. He frantically lifted his blankets to make sure he didn't wet the bed forced upon by House by sticking his fingers in water, and was relieved to see he hadn't, and even more relieved that he didn't trip over any wires in the hallway while making his way to the bathroom, and his clothes still seemed in tact. He looked in the direction of House's bedroom door with a smile, happy that his friend kept his work with no tricks.

He used the bathroom and turned to the sink to wash his hands and after he put the faucet on he lazily looked up in the mirror at himself. His eyes bugged out when he saw his eyebrows shaved off, black dots on his nose which he could only guess were suppose to be freckles, half a beard drawn in, red around his lips, and a message written starting on his forehead that said "oops..." and on his right cheek an "I" while on the other read, "lied" all with markers.

"House! You drugged me, didn't you?" Wilson screamed from where he stood which echoed his voice.

House laid in bed, slowly opened his eyes at the sound of Wilson's scream and grinned.