"Five months. That's 150 days, give or take. Today is day 170. It's time."

Wilson sighed, adjusting a blanket over his shoulders before turning to look at the camera again.

"I'd just like to thank you all…For just existing, really. You're all such wonderful people, and I'm glad to have had the pleasure of knowing you. I couldn't have asked for a better family, or better friends. So thank you, and I'm sorry."

Wilson picked up his drink from the coaster to the side of his laptop, taking a swig of the amber liquid, pulling a face. "That's not mine." He muttered to himself.

"I'm not sorry that I'm dying. Really, it's time for me to go, and I'm glad I'm strong enough to do this. I'm not sorry that I've not achieved anything, because I've achieved lots. I've saved lives. I'm climbed metaphorical, and recently literal mountains." He gave a small smile to the camera.

"I'm sorry because I've lied. I've done something kind of illegal. Definitely illegal, actually. I've… Well, you'll know soon enough what I helped to do. I'm sorry that I'm giving up now instead of waiting for this to kill me. It's a miracle it hasn't already. I'm sorry I haven't seen any of you for the last five months. I'm sorry that I haven't kept in contact as well as I'd have liked. I'm so-"

The door opened.

"Honey, I'm home!"

Wilson hit save on the video he was recording, and closed his laptop with a swift movement.

"Watching porn without me? I'm insulted." House limped away from the front door, hanging his cane from the ceiling, and flopped down next to Wilson on the couch.

"Gimme your blanket, I wanna spoon."

"House!"

"Hey, I've had a long day at work, I just want to cuddle with my wifey."

"We're in Vegas. You only had a hard day if they stopped serving you at the bar. And I'm not your 'wifey', who do you think you are, some kind of rapper?"

"No, actually I'm Justin Bieber. See this pure face? What a comparison."

Wilson looked up at House, taking in the shaved head, and the beard he'd grown over the course of the five months, and dyed ginger over the last week or so.

"Yes, you both have the same hairstyle and girlish good looks, however did I miss it?" Wilson deadpanned.

"You were overcome by my beauty. Don't worry, that's the normal reaction. So, sweetie pie, were you Skyping mother dearest or something, and that's why you're drinking my bourbon?"

"Yes, House, I was so overcome with guilt about running off with you that I decided I should just become you instead."

"No need to be so sarcastic, god." House stood up, shooting Wilson a devilish grin. "I won't give you your present if you're mean to me."

Wilson raised an eyebrow, coughing as he did so. House chucked him a small bag.

"Heroin?" Wilson spluttered.

"Whoops, no, that's mine. Here." House swapped the little bags. "Morphine. Much more to your taste."

"I won't even ask about the heroin. I give up. I'm going to sleep now. See you tomorrow." Wilson rolled over, turning away from House.

"Baby, it's not really heroin. I'd never do that to you, snugglepuffs!"

Wilson laughed, but it ached so he stopped.

"Quit with the nicknames or I'll kill you."

"I'd like to see you try, my delicate maiden. You couldn't kill a fly right now."

"Score, I'm House's 'delicate maiden'. That's one to cross off the bucket list."

"Too far. Now sleep or I'll strangle you."

Uh, this is physics revision, I promise.

My new addition to failing my GCSEs.

This'll have a bunch more chapters floating in at times when I should be revising.

What, the House finale hit me hard.