Wilson slammed the door open, frustrated after a long day at work. You're an ass, House, was on the tip of his tongue as he scanned the rooftop for his friend. You sent her away. You've just gotto be miserable. You're so afraid you'll lose what makes you special. For a moment Wilson felt panic rush though him when he caught sight of the older doctor on the ledge, but forced himself to relax when he realised House was just sitting there with his back up against the wall, staring up at the sky, his expression melancholy.

He tried to mask the anger in his voice and sound neutral as he asked, "What did you tell her?" but just ended up sounding tired. House glanced at him before responding quietly,

"I... told her she's better off without me."

"Huh. That's probably true."

Wilson barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes as he watched his friend pop a couple of Vicodin, all the while avoiding looking at him. He's in pain. He didn't want her to leave, Wilson translated. "You're an idiot," he said, exasperated. "You don't think she'd be better off without you!"

"Right. I sent her off on a whim," House responded sarcastically, still refusing to meet his friend's eyes.

"You have no idea why you sent her off!" Wilson allowed his voice to rise, finally letting the day's frustrations take hold.

House slid off the wall and walked around Wilson to stare out over the hospital grounds. "Don't do this..."

Wilson opened his mouth to deliver a scathing reply, but something about the tone in House's voice gave him pause. His voice was thick and shaky, as though he was on the brink of tears - for once, House wasn't hiding behind a mask of sarcasm. He actually sounded upset.

Wilson watched, lost for words, as his friend turned his face away and wiped angrily at his eyes.

"House?"

He cautiously went to stand beside his friend, placing a hand gently on his shoulder and searching his face, frowning slightly at what he found there. He bit his lip, deciding that it would be best to ignore his friend's tears, for now. "You should go and tell her that you made a mistake, and that she should stay here, with you."

House shrugged off Wilson's hand and turned his back to him so that Wilson wouldn't be able to see his face in his moment of weakness.

"She..." his voice still sounded shaky, and he took a deep breath to steady it, but to no avail. "She's better off without me. I... I don't... she deserves better than... I can't..."

He slumped down against the wall, burying his face in his hands as he attempted to get his hitching breathing under control. Wilson slid down beside him, debating whether or not he should hug his friend or keep his distance. In the end he settled for the middle ground, laying his arm across House's shoulders and letting the older doctor lean into him while he regained his composure.

After a while, House shifted away to look at his friend, who had drifted off into a half-sleep.

"Wilson?"

"Hmm?"

"You want to go get hammered now?"

Wilson sat up slowly. He was still angry, and he felt like pointing out that alcohol wasn't a substitute for dealing with problems, but he grudgingly recognised that showing him this vulnerability was the older doctor's way of showing just how much he trusted him, so he let it go. House didn't need a lecture right now - he had endured enough for today.

Wilson smiled a bit. "Sure thing, buddy."