Thank you all for the reviews! I'm glad you're enjoying the story and I love hearing from you. It's nice to see some other House/Stacy fans cause I know there's not many of us. lol

Well here's the next chapter…wanted to get two done today, but that's how it goes…had a psychology test. Bleh.

Still don't own House M.D. Still wish I did.

-------------------------------------

House woke on his sofa with a pounding headache. The TV was still on. He rolled over groggily. A soap. Some woman kissing some man. It wasn't General Hospital, and even if it had been he felt too sick to care. Grabbing his cane he stumbled to the bathroom and practically collapsed around the toilet, heaving violently. When it was over he rested his head weakly on the edge, a little shaky. He was just lucky he had made it to the bathroom. When he was sure the vomiting was over he stood and made his way back to the couch. Even if sleeping on it for long periods of time hurt his leg he would have to deal with it. The pillows on his bed still smelled like Stacy. He couldn't sleep there. Falling back onto the couch he tucked his head in against the back cushion and promptly fell asleep.

----------------------------------

Wilson didn't even jump at the sharp, almost frantic knock on his door. He knew who it would be. "Yes?"

Cameron pushed the door open, closely followed by Chase. She started in first, just like he knew she would. "House didn't come in today."

Wilson nodded heavily. "Yeah. I'm…not surprised."

"Is he…alright?"

Wilson smiled, slight but enough to fool her. "He'll be fine. Just not feeling well." That was the understatement of the year.

"Alright then…" She still looked worried and Chase looked unsure but they turned around and left. The second they were out the door Wilson flipped open his phone and held down 1 on the speed dial. The phone was still of the hook. Swearing internally the tried the next button. Of course, he didn't answer. He tossed the phone angrily down on his desk, not even caring about the harsh clunk that it made. His fingers tapped impatiently. To go to Cuddy or not… That was the big question and he couldn't decide. Five minutes decided the question for him. She didn't even knock.

"Where's House?"

"He's…"

"Home."

Wilson nodded, uneasy. "Yeah."

"Is he dying? Because unless he is, he better get his ass in here and work his clinic hours."

He shook his head. "He's…not feeling well."

Cuddy's eyes narrowed. "What happened with Stacy."

"That's…really his business."

"And mine, seeing as I'm his boss."

Wilson said nothing. No matter what he thought about House's decisions, some things really were his business. He wasn't about to go explaining it all(what he knew, that was)to Cuddy.

"Fine. I'll go over and see him myself."

Before he could have tried to stop her she was out the door. It wouldn't have mattered anyway. Cuddy was Cuddy. If she wanted to go chew him out in person, she would do it regardless.

-------------------------------

"House! House open the damned door!" Cuddy jolted backwards as the door swung in suddenly.

"Door's open. What do you want?" He looked like hell. His eyes were red but from drugs, alcohol, lack of sleep or…something else, she wasn't sure. He leaned heavily on the doorframe, his head resting on the wood. He looked defeated and exhausted, enough to worry her. Not that she'd say that.

"Are you alright, House?"

"Fine and dandy. What do you want?"

"I…wanted you to do your job. If you're really sick you can stay home. If you're hiding-"

"I am. From you."

Her eyes narrowed. "I expect you to haul your ass in on time tomorrow morning and make up the clinic hours you should have done today, seeing as you don't have a case. Is that understood?"

"Sure, boss. Looking forward to it. It'll be the highlight of my life."

"Right. Just as long as you do it." She ran her eyes over him again. "Are you sure you're alright?"

House pushed the door shut. His voice came through it, muffled. "Good-bye."

-------------------------------------

"Wilson."

"James…it's Stacy."

Wilson spun around in his chair to face the clock. He had been just about ready to go home. Julie would be waiting. "How…are you?"

A breath, and then-"Can we talk?"

The oncologist rubbed the bridge of his nose. House's problems somehow always became his problems. Not that he minded talking to Stacy, she was a friend. But it wasn't going to help his already troubled home life. "Yes. Sure. Where are you?"

"Outside the hospital."

"He's not here, you know."

A sharp intake of breath. "Is he alright?"

"That would…depend on your definition. Hold on, Stacy. I'm coming outside."

----------------------------------------

The difference in their outward appearance lay in the fact that she could hold herself together with much better composure than him. Under the surface, the result was the same. She just looked better while she was falling apart. Wilson took a seat on the concrete bench next to her. "Hey."

"Hey."

He waited a moment then hugged her, somewhat awkwardly at first. It felt more normal when he realized just how much she needed it. "So…" She had wanted to talk to him…it stood to reason that she had something to say.

Stacy shook her head. "I…don't know. I had…things I wanted to ask you but now…I don't know about anything." She leaned back against the brick wall behind them, her eyes surveying everyone who passed by on the sidewalk. "This is my fault. Again."

"No, don't say that. He's…an idiot sometimes. He does stupid things. This is one of them."

"Did he tell you we slept together?"

Wilson raised his eyebrows, just slightly. "No…I sort of…suspected."

"We talked, later, and…he asked me if I had told Mark yet. I didn't know what to say at the time…I told him…that if I never told Mark, it would never hurt…God, I never realized until after I said it…that I was hurting him." She swallowed hard. "He wanted…to hear that I loved him more, and when it mattered I couldn't tell him that. I answered him, last night, but…he's House."

"…yes. He is. So you think…that was why he…"

"Part of it. I don't know. Sometimes he's a mystery to me too, you know." Stacy bit her lip. "I just…he needed to hear that I was ready to leave Mark for him, like he was ready to go out on a limb and trust me again and I…I should have."

"Hindsight's 20/20. It doesn't matter now."

"Of course it matters."

Wilson winced. "You're right. It does matter. But…you can't change it now."

"No. I can't."

"He's…afraid, in a way. He's afraid to change, but at the same time…I think he wants to change for you. And…he's not sure he can."

Stacy shook her head, a sad smile tugging at her lips. "I don't need him to change. I love him now, just the way he is. I don't…care if he's a stubborn jerk, I know that. We can…I know we can make it work around that because we did for a little over four years. We were happy. We had fun, we were in love. And…he's not always an ass. Sometimes…he does something…sweet. It means more, coming from him because of just how hard it is for him. And…" Her voice dropped to a whisper, her eyes clouding. "I know he loves me."

"More than anything. And…more than he realizes. I think…it scares him, sometimes. How little control he has over his feelings for you."

"But the fact that he loves me…that's enough."

Wilson shifted on the bench, turning to lean at an angle against the wall behind them and halfway face Stacy. "Are you…sure about that because…it wasn't before. Not to be harsh but I know…I know what happens to him when you aren't sure about something. And so do you. If you…go back to him, now, and then leave him later…he'll never recover."

"I love Mark. I wouldn't have married him if I didn't. But compared to what I feel for Greg it's…not enough. I can't…go back to telling myself I'm happy with my life. It won't work anymore. And yes…I'm sure. I'm sure that I love him, that I want to…have a life together." Frustrated, Stacy buried her face in her hands. "I don't know why I'm even talking about this…it'll just drive me mad. I had this choice. I blew it."

They were both silent for a moment, thinking. "Maybe…not." She looked up at him wordlessly. She looked so drained. "Like you said…he loves you. You could try to talk to him. I don't know what good it would do. Maybe none. Maybe it'd just make everything harder on you…"

She was nodding steadily. "But…when I left, I wanted him to come after me." She gave him a slight, sad smile. "Even you didn't know that, did you?"

Wilson shook his head. "And neither did he."

"Or he would have?"

He sighed heavily. "I don't know. He's…"

"House. Right." Stacy brushed a stray strand of hair back from her eyes, using the moment to force as much determination and 'I'm ok' into her expression as possible. "Even if…I just get hurt. I can't let this go. I'll…never forgive myself if I do. If there was a chance I didn't take…" She let the sentence trail off, the ending uneccesary.

Wilson nodded. "I understand. I wouldn't…try talking to him tonight though."

"Worried about what he'd say to me?"

He hesitated. "A…little yeah. He wasn't…doing too well last night."

She smiled, more warmly than she had before. "I can handle it. But I think you're right. I'll come tomorrow." She stood and he stood with her. "Thanks. I needed someone to talk to." She hugged him quickly then backed away. He could see in her eyes the nervousness she didn't want to voice. "Wilson, do you think…do you think we have a chance?"

There was the question. He could see in his mind so many different versions of House…House before the infarction, House after the infarction, House after Stacy left, House after he started to improve and, finally, House in the past few weeks. He was always a mess and he always would be, but he seemed to be a happier mess with her. And…he had seemed ready to try. "If he'll stop being an idiot and listen to you, put effort into working this out…yeah. Maybe you do. But it all depends on him and he's…" He didn't want to sound harsh. It was his best friend and her lover he was talking about. But they both knew the truth. "It's nearly impossible to guess what he's going to do next, sometimes. But…if anyone belongs with him…you do."

Her eyes brightened, just a little. "Thank you."

He watched her until she was out of sight, then drew his cell phone from his pocket. Four missed calls. All home. Damn. He knew when he got home they'd fight, then she wouldn't speak to him for a few hours. He'd make his own dinner, save her some but she'd say she didn't want any. She'd go upstairs and watch TV in the bedroom, he'd do the same downstairs. They'd go to bed angry, even if he tried to apologize, and he'd probably end up sleeping on the couch. He consoled himself with the fact that if Stacy managed to talk some sense into House, it'd all be worth it. Helping to buy House's happiness by sacrificing his own wasn't a bad trade.

----------------------------------------------

Hmmm….I love the friendship between House and Wilson, so as a heads up that'll be important in here as well, even though the main focus'll be on House and Stacy. Anyway….hope you guys enjoyed the chapter…lot of dialogue but they'll be some more drama in the next one. Promise.

If I don't get to post over the weekend it's cause I'm home entertaining my aunt…she lives a couple hours away and doesn't come to visit a whole lot so she likes me to hang out with her when she does…I'll have a couple more chapters written but I don't know when I'll get them up. At least by Monday. Ok?

Reviews will make me really, really, happy….