A/N: Song by Taylor Swift called Tied Together With a Smile. Just a note, the narrator of the song isn't a character. Just a narrator. Spnscifreak gave me the idea for Wilson's bit. P.S. I don't believe in slash. Well, I do, but not in this fic. So assume the 'love' in Wilson's part is the friendly, brotherly type. Thanks.

And, just because I believe that David Shore would sue a young writer who happened to use his characters to write a story, I'll tell you all that I don't own House. Good riddance!

She maneuvered passed the nurse's desk in the clinic quickly, ignoring the ogling stares coming from the male patients waiting for an examination. She was used to it, but that didn't make it any easier to swallow. Couldn't they just keep their mouths shut? Couldn't they focus on their wives, and not the administrator of a hospital? Couldn't they just grow up?

Seems the only one who doesn't see your beauty
is the face in the mirror looking back at you

You walk around here thinking you're not pretty
but that's not true, cause I know you...

Cuddy walked softly to her office door and shut it, locking it from the inside. She precariously stepped around her desk and drew the blinds. The room was dark; completely soundless, and no one would know what she was doing. Even then, Cuddy couldn't make herself happy. Everything had turned out exactly as she'd planned. But at least now she could get it done.

With that thought, Lisa Cuddy wept.

Tears, hot and thick, rolled off her cheeks and onto her desk, staining her face and blouse with the sick trails they left behind. Her shoulders shook hard, and several stacks of papers that were previously correctly aligned were soon scattered across her floor. Her pager fell, too, but Cuddy knew she'd never try to get it. Not when she was like this. She didn't need the hospital right now, and that shrill piece of plastic was just one more string attached.

Hold on, baby you're losing it
The water's high, you're jumping into it
and letting go, and no one knows
that you cry, but you don't tell anyone
that you might not be the golden one
And you're tied together with a smile
but you're coming undone.

Wilson turned his plastered on smile into an angry frown as his young patient left the room. She was an angel. Perfect laugh, round little face, sparkling blue eyes. And she was terminal. Why did God allow children to die? Couldn't he stop it if he wanted too? There was no reason.

But he shook his head. No, that inner battle was neither one he wanted to fight, nor the one he was fighting. Wilson knew that, right now, it was all about House. Why did everything, every emotion, every trouble, every pain, have to circle around him? Why was it always about House?

Everything Wilson did…House either took ungratefully or greedily. Never a thank-you. Never a sorry. It was all a game to him, something that he could take for granted. Well, what happens when Wilson wants to stop playing? When he stops giving out help?

I guess it's true that love was all you wanted
cause you've given it away like it's extra change
hoping it will end up in his pocket.
But he leaves you out like a penny in the rain
Oh, cause it's not his price to pay
not his price to pay...

Wilson set his arms on his desk atop some files and looked ruefully at a bottle of trazodone in his bottom drawer. Drugged sleep sounded nice right now. But, with doctorial wisdom, Wilson shut the drawer without taking any pills. He laid his head on his arms, closing his eyes instantly. Dreams were not welcome. And guilt was forbidden.

Hold on, baby you're losing it
The water's high, you're jumping into it
and letting go and no one knows
that you cry, but you don't tell anyone
that you might not be the golden one
And you're tied together with a smile
but you're coming undone.