Joke

Suddenly his seemingly innocent joke from the other day seemed astoundingly unfunny.

"Oh, God, House... when I said... you must have thought... oh, God..." House's silence only confirmed his fear. "No, I... it was a JOKE, that's all it was... I swear..." Wilson watched House look away. "House, look at me, I'm okay. I'm FINE. House. HOUSE. Look at me."

When the older doctor finally did meet his gaze, the oncologist was surprised to find his friend's eyes stinging with angry tears.

"You... you're LYING to me. Stop it. It's not fair. You think..." he faltered, his voice breaking slightly. "You think it would hurt LESS to find you hanging from the ceiling fan some day, or lifeless on the floor with a bullet through your head, or in the bath with your wrists slit, or, or..." he was getting worked up, so he took a deep, shaky breath in an attempt to calm back down. He lowered his voice slightly, fighting to keep it steady. "You think I'd rather find you AFTER you'd done it, knowing I could've done something, something t-to stop it if only I'd done, if only I'd done MORE?"

Wilson was snapped out of his stunned silence as he watched House barely stifle a sob.

"House, listen to me. I'm FINE. You have to trust that." He took a step towards the diagnostician, arm outstretched, moving to comfort him, perhaps, but the older doctor recoiled and moved away, dropping down heavily onto the piano bench. Wilson sighed, exasperated. "House! Really, believe me. I'm okay. The bigger question is, are YOU? You know I've never seen you..."

"Cry like a little baby?" House snapped, not meeting his friend's eyes. He was rubbing his thigh subconsciously, and Wilson felt a stab of compassion. He knew he had caused at least a part of that pain over the last few days. He took a cautious step towards his friend, voice rough with badly concealed sympathy.

"Well, yeah. I've never seen you this upset before. Even when you had the infarction, you-"

"I'm not upset," House muttered mutinously.

"Oh, come on, just how stupid do you think I am?" Wilson retorted, finally losing his temper. "You're CRYING, you moron. And I'm not buying that it's just because you thought I was suicidal, or whatever other crap you've made up in that whacked-out head of yours. You don't care about anyone else THAT much."

There. The careless, wholly untrue words were out before he could think twice about them. SHIT, NOW YOU'VE DONE IT, was all he could think as he watched House's face transform back into its usual cold mask, hiding the deep hurt that had momentarily flashed there.

The oncologist couldn't bring himself to say anything, only watching helplessly as House got up and limped to the bedroom without a word, slamming the door closed behind him.

HOUSEMD

House had been avoiding him all day.

Cuddy had first noticed when he'd come and ASKED her for extra clinic duty. Now she was in the middle of visiting her star oncologist to find out just what had happened between them, and Wilson had told her, if for nothing else then to alleviate the crippling guilt that had been shadowing him all day.

"Do you want me to talk to him?" she asked gently after a long silence, reaching over the desk to squeeze one of the arms that were currently holding up his head.

"No, it's okay," he replied quietly, voice muffled by his hands. "He'll realise I didn't mean it eventually."

"Maybe you should apologise."

Wilson nodded tiredly. "Yeah. Should."

"But you're not going to?"

"Usually only makes it worse."

Cuddy sighed, getting to her feet. The dynamic between the two men was difficult to understand at the best of times.

"Okay, well, I'll leave you to it then. Let me know if you need anything."

"Wait, Cuddy-"

"Yes?"

Wilson's eyes dropped at her piercing stare. "Never mind," he mumbled.

Curious and slightly worried that House's latest obsession might have a bit more depth to it than she'd first thought, she slowly made her way back to rest in the chair opposite the oncologist.

"Go on," she prompted gently. Wilson shook his head wordlessly. A bit of coercion was going to be required here, she thought to herself. Her Head of Oncology was visibly distressed, and he obviously felt he needed to tell someone what was on his mind. The when and how of that telling seemed to be up in the air, though.

She moved around to lean against the desk beside him, laying a hand on his shoulder until he looked up at her face. She met his worn eyes and smiled encouragingly. She could see the moment he relented.

"I..." he started hesitantly. "House... what if he's projecting?"

Cuddy was surprised. That had been easy, but also wasn't what she'd been expecting at all.

"I... don't know. I don't think he'd..." she stopped. "Actually, that IS something he'd do... but, I don't think you have to worry."

"He was CRYING, Cuddy. He NEVER cries."

"He LOVES you, James." Wilson shifted uncomfortably at this admission, but Cuddy pressed on. "All his recent behaviour, and, if we're being perfectly honest, a lot of his OTHER behaviour, can be explained by that fact. He reacted that way to the joke because to him, that would be his worst fear realised. He was upset because he was afraid of losing you. He's avoiding you now because you hurt him. He probably thinks you don't think he cares."

Wilson cringed as another flood of guilt washed through him.

"I know he cares. He knows I know. He isn't an idiot. He won't take one thing I said in the heat of the moment and use it to cancel out everything else."

Cuddy smiled affectionately. "You're BOTH idiots. Go and apologise."

With that, she gave his arm a brief squeeze and left.

Wilson sighed and resumed his staring contest with the wall.

HOUSEMD

House looked up as Wilson quietly entered his office. His friend was smiling, but his eyes were worried. Wilson opened his mouth to speak, and House flinched, as if anticipating a continuation of their argument from the night before. If Wilson saw this, he didn't acknowledge it.

"House, I'm sorry for what I said." House stared at him wordlessly, mouth half open, stunned – that wasn't what he'd been expecting. Wilson took the opportunity to continue. "I know it's not true, I know you do care about people, and about me. I care about you, too. I hope you know that, and I hope you know I didn't mean to hurt you. I'm sorry."

House finally found his voice, but avoided the oncologist's eyes as he said, "It's okay..."

Wilson sat down opposite his friend. "No, it isn't. It was hurtful and mean and completely untrue. I don't know what your definition of okay is but that wasn't it. And you know, by the way, I'm not suicidal either, not even close. Quite the opposite, I love my life, and I plan to live it for a very long time." He smiled. "I hope you plan to live it with me."

House smirked and joked, "Anyone'd think that was a marriage proposal!"

Wilson smirked back. "Whilt thou, House, take me, Wilson..."

House laughed, and Wilson smiled. All was well again in his Housian world.