It was Christmas Eve, and while Dr. James Wilson did not actually celebrate the holiday (being Jewish), he still had always thought it a nice time to be with people, having fun, like everyone else. Having just divorced his second wife, however, the day had passed looking more and more like he'd spend that afternoon alone.
Relief finally came in the form of his best friend, Dr. Gregory House, near the end of the work day.
"Come over tonight?" he asked casually. Wilson nodded, even though he knew how nights at House's place usually went, and knew that night would be no exception.
It was nearing midnight, and Wilson finished up yet another beer. He was barely aware of the television, which was in the middle of playing i It's A Wonderful Life /i for the third time since they'd sat down. There wasn't much conversation - just companionable silence. It certainly wasn't the big, happy family dinner Wilson wanted so desperately, but it was better than being alone.
Yeah, he thought to himself bitterly, i Hallelujah /i .
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Wilson could remember when he gave House the news that he was getting married for the third time. At least, he could remember it now. They'd gotten so stinking drunk that night that it had taken a few days for the memories to come back to him. He had shown up at House's door with a six-pack of beer and House hadn't done anything more than raise an eyebrow at him and let him in. They'd had a few drinks before Wilson had finally come out with it.
"I proposed to her earlier today," was all he said. House had stiffened and let out a sarcastic bark of laughter, and downed the rest of his beer. Wilson wasn't surprised by his unenthusiastic response. "Be my best man?" The request was tentative. House hadn't enjoyed being best man at his last wedding. Neither spoke for a long time. House seemed to be studying the wall above the television with blank disinterest.
"You shouldn't marry her," he finally said. "You know how you are with relationships." Wilson wished desperately that he'd just drop the subjects; he was nervous enough as it was. But House went on. "You've already failed two. What happens if this one doesn't work out either? Then you'll be the man with three divorces!"
Now it was Wilson who was staring blankly. House had somehow moved subtly closer, so they were right next to each other, and House was talking in his ear. "No one trusts a guy with three marriages under his belt. Especially at your age. How humiliating," he whispered, before raising his voice a little.
"But what am I saying? Listen to be speak of this as if it's already happened. This is a happy day! You're getting married. I'll be your best man i again /i . You'll marry again. You'll have some woman needing you again. And maybe i this time /i it'll work out, and you won't be crawling away again, less of a man - less of a i person /i than you were before." House paused. Wilson tried not to show any emotion.
House smiled wryly, and murmured, " i Hallelujah /i ."
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House had spent almost half his life in chronic and unmanageable pain. It had very nearly been a living hell, and he'd made sure everyone knew it right up until the very end. While driving home from the funeral, Wilson tried to convince himself that House was probably better off dead. He'd had too many problems, too many enemies, too much pain. The bad in his life had vastly outweighed the good.
It was really a good thing that he was finally free of that, even though it meant he was leaving Wilson alone. And Wilson knew that, no matter how horrible House had been, no matter how much pain and suffering House had put him though, his life had been better for knowing the man. He had been a good friend. What kind of friend would Wilson be if he wasn't happy for House, being freed of his torture?
Yeah, he thought, trying desperately to ignore the tears streaming down his face and the little voice in the back of his head that said House hadn't i actually /i wanted to die. i Hallelujah /i .