Chapter One: The Resolution

"You're not going alone."

I felt like my mother was standing in the room. And here I thought I was rid of her domineering attitude long ago. I stepped around the couch and blocked Wilson's view of the tv.

"I'm sorry, I distinctly remember you having no say in the matter. Besides, Cuddy needs you here, and as far as cancer is concerned, you're of no use to me."

Wasn't it bad enough that I was struggling with an unjustified, disconcerting part of myself that longed to have him near? If there's anything concerning my ego that we've all come to expect, it's the indisputable fact that I would never be caught dead with another man – let alone alive with one.

He got up ineptly and stood in close proximity with his hands planted firmly on his hips. I felt a light drift of his breath on my face, but not enough to offer me the startling warmth that it did during those times when I reluctantly allowed ourselves the innocuous intimacy that came from being so close; only for the sake of feeling whole.

"I already talked to Cuddy. She spoke with the representative, and they're allowing me to help out as long as I spend a few weeks in Brazil, to study infectious disease. Only long enough for me to familiarize myself with the issue."

I could tell from the note in his voice – despite the obvious hint of sarcasm – that he strongly disapproved of their decision. Well hey, maybe he'll decide it's not worth the plane ticket and let me take care myself.

His eyes narrowed as he tried to peer over my shoulder to get a better look at the tv screen. Eventually growing frustrated, he gently pushed me aside and raised the volume on the remote, his attention glued to the Zimbabwean Prime Minister.

"Our priority is tackling the humanitarian crisis with every means possible.

In the immediate days ahead we must focus on the cholera crisis. We must urgently reduce both the number of outbreaks and the unacceptably high mortality level by tackling the causes of the epidemic, with your help.

We must also ensure that every Zimbabwean has access to emergency food aid regardless of tribal or political affiliation. In this regard, we must ensure that the people can access humanitarian food aid on a non-partisan basis. I call upon all experienced medical practicioners in the field to step forth and work together to ensure that all those that are deserving can access the help they require."

I watched as his face fell, the unsought realization hidden deep behind the uncertainty in his eyes. It made no sense to me, as far as I was concerned. Danger meant nothing in my eyes. This was all just a new piece of one of life's unexpected puzzles, and now that I've been forced into the light, so far that I'm actually beginning to give a crap about their well-being, the life-threatening risk had always been part of the thrill. And yet, there he stood contemplating the idea as if I were already lying on my death bed. I never thought a persons concern for me could possibly become so growingly obnoxious.

I took the remote control from the arm rest and switched off the tv before throwing it back on one of the cushions. At that same moment he swiveled around to face me with that deep-eyed expression that told me he understood. Exactly what he understood was something completely alienated to my perspective. No doubt he was thinking something along the lines of, "Oh dear, all those people are dying, and I'd be a self-centered, uncaring bastard for not letting you care for those poor innocent children." Please. If the children were smart, they would've left home the minute mommy and daddy started pooping different colors.

For a moment I almost like that thought. But then, he could've thrown in "I'll let you go alone, I'd probably just slow you down anyway" somewhere. Yeah, as if his unintelligible knack for caring would allow me even that much hope.

He crossed his arms in front of him and leaned back against the tv stand, his eyes connoting the same level of compassionate understanding as before. I impatiently waited for him to say something. I can honestly say I'm not as good a psychic as the critics give me credit for.

Finally, he shifted his wait in the same way that was usually followed by words. Or, in some cases, actions that don't come naturally comfortable, as I so clearly learned on said occasions when the intimacy breaks in.

"I know you may not like it, but you mean everything to me, House. You have to admit, your inability to act rationally, in most cases, tends to put you in bad situations. Then what? No one else will be there to keep your dharma in check."

"It's called karma."

"No, I'm pretty sure its dharma."

"Karma is the essential needed to get into the after-life, dharma refers to your character."

"Yes, so I'm saying I'll have to be there to keep your 'character' in check."

We both stood in silence, wallowing in the naivity of our senseless exchange. Wilson held something in his face that seemingly accused me of purposely pulling him off subject. And so I did. I obviously knew what he meant, but I would do anything to avoid talking about all the lovey, faithful factors of our relationship. Can you blame me?

He didn't seem to. As a matter of fact, he didn't appear to suspect me of uncertainty at all. There he goes, smiling like I'd done nothing wrong. Perfect…

"My plane leaves tomorrow morning."

I nodded without much care and plopped down on the couch, letting my cane fall to the floor as I eyed him with an expectant expression. For a minute I almost felt bad for not caring, but I quickly shook it off. He made his way past me toward the bedroom. He hesitated and stopped, looking over his shoulder.

"And don't try leaving without me."