I originally thought of this story and asked an amazing author to help me with grammar and writing skills. She/he is unknown because it has been years, but I thank that person. I found this on my hard drive and re-read it. I believe it to be a great start to an opening. I however am probably not ever going to finish it as I have lost my interest in the House MD series since season 7/8. I hate how unrealistic everything became. It was always unrealistic, but they pushed it to far in the last season and a half. Any who, if you want to take it over feel free to do so. Just please credit the author whose name I cannot remember. I was gunning for House to actually become closer to Ted and Greg more so than Wilson, and Wilson being the one to deny his feelings until Greg (The patient) got tired of Wilson's aversion to wanting to kiss/hug a man and just kisses him deeply one day. Wilson confronts Ted about it, and Ted does the same thing. He doesn't talk to them or House for a while, then House confronts Wilson after he realizes that he would do anything for House, including trying to change himself for the better. Just remember ethically a doctor should not be close friends with his patients, so eventually Wilson will need to transfer the patient to another doctor and just be a consult.

If you do decide to continue it, I'm open to giving you ideas, and I do want to read it when your done. If you are subscribed to me and read this, I really do want to finish Instincts. Now that I have medicine helping me to not pray every night to not wake up, I believe I can do it. I just need some ideas on where the story should go. I know how Beast will deal with his inner daemon, but nothing else. Enjoy the beginning of my story. . . . .

Opening...

Seated at his desk, Wilson reviewed the file one more time, hoping that he had given his patient the wrong information. As he perused the words, test results, and notes he distinctly remembered his first meeting with Greg Howlett. His ego had been at a near comical level even as he sat in a hospital bed wrapped in a gown that was only loosely tied behind him, a sheet thrown over his legs. Wilson had nearly laughed out loud when Greg had explained how much he hated doctors and that he didn't need someone to tell him when he was sick.

It had taken what Wilson only guessed was excruciating pain and nearly not being able to urinate to bring Greg to the hospital. Even at first glance over the chart and symptoms, the oncologist had guessed his patient was in a fairly advanced stage of prostate cancer. Tests had been run rapidly, with Greg arguing and protesting each one. The nurses all struggled with the constant complaints, but Wilson knew it was just the patient's way of dealing with the fact that he might actually be dying.

The oncologist stuck close by his patient during the long days of tests and waiting for results, providing a buffer between the somewhat grouchy man and the hospital staff. Wilson had laughed off every insult and had even managed to hold civilized conversations, all the while noticing the lack of visitors and even phone calls. But the lack of friends never diminished the 46-year-old's ornery zest to fight.

Refocusing, Wilson realized this look over the chart showed just what the last few had; his patient had stage 4 prostate cancer. With another sigh, Wilson rubbed his eyes before rising. He clutched the file in his hand as he took the walk to Greg's room once again, forcing a smile onto his face just before entering.

There was a busty nurse, whose name Wilson remembered to be Linda, in Greg's room getting ready to change the IV. With a flirting wink and a nod toward the door, Linda took her cue and left the room. Closing the distance between himself and the bed, Wilson went about tending to his patient. Instead of the normal instant bought of complaints of his morning's treatment, Wilson noticed a slight nervousness in Greg's eyes. Even during his diagnosis, Greg had not shown this emotion.

It was Greg who broke their silence. "Dr. Wilson, I need a favor."

Not knowing how else to respond to this particular patient, the oncologist went with humor. "Sorry, but the list of people who are in line to date Nurse Maxwell is pretty long."

Greg actually chuckled, easing Wilson's mind a bit. "No. No, that's not it. I'm, uh, not in that line at all." After rubbing his forehead, in a nervous gesture, "I was, uh, wondering if you could be here around three o'clock this afternoon."

Wilson's brow furrowed. "I suppose so. Why?"

Their eyes met, and Wilson saw insecurity in the blue depths that he had yet to see during this whole process. "My husband is coming in and I need to tell him…you know…that I'm dying."

All color drained from Wilson's face as he fought with which piece of information to digest first. He cleared his throat in an attempt to regain his professionalism. "You are not dying. You have options."

Greg waived away the oncologist's attempt to cheer him. "Don't pity me. I get it. I'm dying; maybe not tomorrow or the next day, but much quicker than Ted. He needs to know. I don't think I can do it."

Wilson silently finished with the IV before nodding and saying he'd be back at three. After dropping the file in his office, Wilson headed for the cafeteria. Once in line, House quickly joined him at his side, armed with sarcasm. "Where have you been? I've been waiting for three minutes!"

Not in the mood for the antics, "Well, you could have gotten in line and paid for your own lunch."

"Ooooo, what's got your panties in a bunch?"

With a sigh, "A dying patient."

"Uh, hate to break it to you, but all of your patients are dying. It's gotta be something else."

Wilson handed over the money for their lunch, like he had almost every day of their friendship, and tried to ignore House's comment as he walked to a table. But House wasn't about to let the subject drop. "So, what is it? Are you sleeping with another patient?"

Wilson had to stop himself from slamming his hand on the table. "No."

"Is she hot and you want to sleep with her?"

Getting slightly aggravated, "Stop it, House. He's a guy."

After shoving a fry in his mouth, "Well, I think I know you well enough to know you're not gay, so what's the big deal?"

Wilson contemplated his friend's reaction, before deciding what to tell him. He had no idea why this case was different to him, only that it was. He blew out a breath before, "I can't tell you anything."

House rolled his eyes. "Right, patient confidentiality, blah, blah, blah. So call me in for a consult."

"I don't need a consult, House. He's already been diagnosed. It's just…I have to meet with him at three o'clock so he can tell his spouse."

"Spouse?" The raise of his eyebrows showed he was on to something. "If it was his wife, you would've said 'wife'. Since you didn't, I can only assume you mean his husband. Got a problem with gay men, Jimmy?"

Wilson wondered briefly if that were true, but quickly dismissed it. He had no problem with Greg being gay, although it had been a shock. "No! I just…I need to go. I have a meeting."

Early to his weekly meeting by a good fifteen minutes, Wilson tried to gather his thoughts. Halfway through the meeting, Wilson realized he hadn't heard a word, let alone participated. He left the meeting just as frustrated as he'd been when he'd arrived. After a glance at his watch, he headed to his office to attempt to clear out some paperwork.

Before he knew it, it was almost three o'clock and he was headed toward Greg's room. When he got there, he knocked gently on the semi-closed door before he entered. The sight he saw when he entered was not at all what he expected. Two seemingly straight men were holding hands, Greg lying in bed with a strained look on his face and whom Wilson only assumed was Ted, seated on the edge of the bed. Silently, he scolded himself for stereotyping, suspecting the two masculine men to hold more feminine qualities.

With a deep breath, he took the few steps toward the bed with an outstretched hand as Greg introduced him to Ted. Just as he was starting to relax, he heard a familiar voice behind him. "Sorry I'm late."

Wilson whipped around. "House?" He quickly closed the distance between them, as far away from his patient as possible. In a whisper, attempting to keep their conversation between them, "What are you doing here?"

The smirk on House's face was unmistakable. Surprisingly, he did keep his voice down to a whisper. "You didn't expect me to miss this, did you?"

Stopping himself from pointing, "You should not be here!"

House flashed a daring look. "You gonna throw me out?"

Of course, House knew full well that Wilson would not create a scene. "Don't embarrass me."

With a smile, House limped around Wilson and leaned against the wall, saying to the men still holding hands, "Don't mind me. I'm just here for support."

Wilson rolled his eyes as he turned his attention back to his patient, donning his best 'I'm going to tell you that a person you love is dying, but please still like me' smile. "Ted, I'm sure you know by now that Greg has asked me to meet with you today to explain his condition."

"I've been away on business. I just got in about an hour ago." The steady, deep tone to his voice signified that he no idea what he was in for.

Ten minutes later, after explaining the severity of Greg's cancer and providing treatment options for the two men to consider, Wilson watched as the couple folded into each other. He listen as Greg finally sobbed about how scared he was and Ted told him that he would take care of him. As words of love came and went from each of the men, Wilson backed away saying that he would return in an hour or so. Thankfully, House followed him out.

Neither man spoke until they reached Wilson's office and House flopped down onto the couch saying, "Well, that wasn't anywhere near as interesting as I thought it would be."

"So sorry. Next time I'll try to add a song and dance to keep your interest."

As if they were actually having a serious conversation, "Oh, your speech was good. Medical terms are my thing. But the gay boys disappointed me. I wanted more lisps and wrenching sobs. Where was all that?"

As he slid into the chair behind his desk, "Evidently they don't fit the stereotype."

"What the hell is that about?"

"I don't know House. What does it matter?"

"It matters because I always thought I could pick gay guys out of a crowd!"

"And what, now you're worried that guys might mistake you for being gay?"

House stood and made it to the doorway before saying over his shoulder, "I think you should be worried."

Wilson only chuckled before turning his attention to listening to his phone messages and checking his email. Nearly an hour later, he made his way back to Greg's room as he'd promised only to be met by House on the way. "I thought you were bored last time."

"I'm giving them a second chance."

What they found upon entering the room shocked them both. There were no tears or sad faces, but rather two men laughing, Ted with a phone to his ear. Greg waived them in. "Don't mind Ted. He's been making reservations and buying tickets for nearly a half hour now."

Wilson chuckled. "Planning a vacation?"

"Well, let's just say that whatever time we have left together, we're gonna live to the fullest."

The oncologist's heart was overwhelmed. He had never seen a couple take a diagnosis this well. It was obvious that the bond they shared was special. He listened as Ted wrapped up his conversation about a hotel reservation and then stepped toward Greg's side. Before asking the inevitable question, Wilson glanced at House who was leaning against the far wall, cane in hand. "Have you two decided on a treatment?"

Ted took Greg's hand in his own before saying, "We decided to go with whatever you think is Greg's best option."

Once again, Wilson's heart warmed. Patients took his recommendation quite often, but the trust that this couple was putting in him seemed to mean so much more. Another glance toward House earned him a look that said 'do what you do best'. "I'd recommend the radiation and hormone therapy. I think it's your best option even though the sexual side effects are quite common."

It was Ted who replied, "We don't care about that. As long as we're together, that's all that matters. And we'd like to thank you."

"No thanks needed. I'll get the paperwork started for you to start your therapy tomorrow. There's no need for you to stay in the hospital, though I would recommend for you to stay tonight so we can complete your first treatment early in the morning. I can arrange for Ted to be able to stay."

Greg's eyes teared up. "I can't thank you enough. I know I'm not an easy person to deal with."

Ted quickly agreed. "Yeah, Greg can be a little cantankerous."

Wilson only chuckled, suddenly realizing why Greg meant so much to him. He pointed toward House saying, "Yes, well, let's just say that he's no bowl of cherries, and I put up with him every day."

Ted made his way across the room toward House saying, "I don't believe we've officially met."

Wilson, a little flustered for forgetting to give proper introductions, finally completed the task. "Sorry. Ted this is Dr. House."

As they shook hands, "Oh, you're a doctor too. That's great!" House raised an eyebrow in Wilson's directed as Ted walked away. "So we're hoping you guys are free this Friday night. We'd like to invite you to dinner and to come see a show with us."

House quickly spoke up. "Uh, I don't do theater."

Wilson ignored House and instead asked Greg, "Is he serious?"

Greg chuckled. "I have no control over him. When he does things, he does them big! He already bought the tickets and made the dinner reservations, so you better just say yes."

Wilson wasted no time accepting the offer for both of them. "We'd love to, then. Don't pay any attention to House; I told you, he's ornery." House rolled his eyes and quickly left the room muttering something under his breath as he went.

Ted's next question nearly made Wilson's knees buckle. "How long have the two of you been together?"

He could feel the heat in his cheeks as he stumbled to answer. "I, I mean we aren't, we're not together."

The couple chuckled before Ted replied, "Really? So what was that little lovers' spat when he came in? And why exactly was he here?"

Wilson rubbed his forehead with his left hand as he thought. "That…was not a lovers' spat. And he was here…because…well because he's nosey." He left the room with both men chuckling behind him. No one had ever mistaken he and House as a couple before. Or maybe they had, but just hadn't mentioned it.

He wondered how many people had thought over the years that they were together. From the outside looking in, he supposed it wasn't such a long shot. They did spend most of their free time together, he did pay for most of House's meals and he was one of the only people who honestly understood his best friend. But he had never thought of House as anything but his best friend.

Briefly he wondered what House would say if he knew that Greg and Ted thought they were a couple or if he himself had ever thought of their relationship as anything more than friendship. Without a second thought, he decided that was not a conversation they would ever have.

Days later Wilson pulled up to 221B in order to pick up House for their theatre date. Not much was spoken except from House as he complained about not having time to get liquored up before the event. As they got out of the car a big sign displayed the words "Rent" which made House again complain. Not wanting to offend the generosity offered by Ted and Greg, Wilson fussed and told House to behave or he would have to pay for his own lunch for the next week.

Begrudgingly, "Fine, but you own me big time"

"It's not my fault you were in the room so they invited us both. Serves your right, maybe you won't stick your nose where it doesn't' belong anymore."

The first thing House noticed upon entering was the bar, but his attention was quickly redirected to Ted and Greg. After the forced exchange of pleasantries, House excused himself to the bar so he could "stand to be there all night". Greg look perplexed by House being negative but was cut short by House walking away. Ted looked at Wilson, then to his lover, "I am going to get a quick pick me up, I'll meet you two inside."

House was glad to be away from people. For some strange reason this whole situation bothered him. He had never been the one to care whether or not if someone was gay, nor had he ever felt this awkward around anyone. Usually he would find someone being gay great because he could make other people feel weird. Suddenly someone to his left spoke and startled him out of brooding, "I know how you feel, I can't sit through a show production without something to relax."

Wishing he had been left alone, "Do my ears deceive me? A gay that doesn't like theatre?"

Not even phased by this rude outburst, "Not all gays love musicals and plays. I can't stand them, but Greg loves them. This one is most fitting for the situation."

"I would have pictured you to be the one who likes the artsy stuff. Greg seems like the proverbial mans man to me." He chuckled at the thought of Greg watching football while Ted made dinner but stopped abruptly when he remember he is usually the one to watch TV while Wilson cooks.

Both men paused, unsure what to say next. Ted finally broke the awkward silence, "I want to thank you two for being here tonight. We just moved here and hardly know anyone. Like I said before I've been away on business so Greg has been here by himself."

House contemplated this in his head as he took another sip of his drink. Not entirely knowing how to gauge how he was feeling, he responded the way he usually did. With brutal honesty.

"I would honestly rather not be here."

Still un-phased, "Can I talk to you on a personal level?"

After a bigger gulp of his drink House replied uncertainly, "Wilson is much better at the touchy feely thing. I know what you're going through is hard, but I'm really not the guy to talk to about this sort of thing."

"All I need someone to do is listen, there is a free drink in it for ya."

Rolling his eyes, House reluctantly agreed.

"I don't know what to do, I have to be there for him, but I don't want to think about it. How can someone be there one minute, then gone the next. How can I be there to support him, when all I want to do is cry on his shoulder. I have been with him over twenty years, how am I supposed to let go of the one person that I would do anything for?" Tears had formed in Ted's eyes, yet he was fighting them. Not one traveled down his cheek.

House was perplexed. He had not been on the receiving end of other people's emotional turmoil because he usually kept his distance. Only choice few people were let in, only choice few people he allowed himself to care about. Why did he care about people he just met. It didn't add up. Damn Wilson, why did he have to bring him here.

Wilson. . . . . . . . Even though it wasn't the same kind of relationship, if Wilson his best friend had developed cancer House would feel the same way. Even though he would never admit to it, House finally understood how to care for another person. He at times would fight the tears, would do anything for someone else to understand him. Doing something no one had done for him, he awkwardly responded with open arms, "I don't know."

Ted bridged the small gap between them and hugged House. After a somewhat long moment, Ted finally let go and looked sheepish. House was the first to speak up. "So, I'm going to go in before Wilson kills me and doesn't pay for my lunch next week. Don't forget my drink."

Everyone was thoroughly entertained throughout the show. House had remained entertained by contemplating everything. Himself, emotions, Ted, Greg, and more importantly Wilson. He couldn't figure out what was different. Halfway through the 526,600th time the people on stage sang the number 526,600, Ted reached over and grabbed Greg's hand. Always the one to notice everything, House began to ponder. What pieces of this puzzle where missing.

After the show, Greg insisted that he treat them out to dinner. After House making about a hundred excuses, and Wilson discrediting all of them, they made their way to a diner. With the night coming to an end, Greg and Ted hugged both doctors and thanked them again for coming out.

The ride to 221B was abnormally silent. Wilson tried to start a conversation but House only gave a quick one or two word answer. House quickly got out and walked into the apartment without saying a word. After a few moments of contemplating what got into House, Wilson gave up and went home.