Author's Note: This is a short chapter but chock full of angst!!! PLEASE read and review I need the help!!!!

Disclaimer: I do not own HOUSE M.D.

The next day ,Wilson seemed better, and the day after that even more so. A week went by and the whole illness was a memory for House. However, Wilson had become very adept at hiding his symptoms from House, he would sleep as much as he could in his office, and tried to be as perky as possible at home. But Wilson was starting to worry himself and began to wonder if he didn't have mono. He snuck down to the lab and ran a monospot test on himself, it was negative. Then he thought it might be a vitamin deficiency and began taking his supplements again, that seemed to help and he moved on.

Things were back to their normal quirky rhythm and House was adjusting to the loss of his possible relationship with Cuddy, or at least he was making a valiant effort. And Wilson felt almost normal again until about week later…

Wilson woke up shivering, it was late fall and already quite cold. He got up to pee and turn the heat up. That was when he noticed his pajamas were drenched with sweat… slightly alarmed he trod to the bathroom as quietly as possible praying House wasn't experiencing insomnia. He peed and washed his hands and caught a glimpse of his image in the mirror…"Shit…" He reached up to his face and saw the blood that had been pouring out of his nose in his sleep. Wilson stared at his reflection, he had lost weight, his face was gaunt and his eyes were hollowed in sunken sockets . "Shit…" He washed the blood off his face returned to his room and stripped his bed as quietly as possible. His heart was pounding but his mind frozen. He had to hide the evidence from House. After he remade his bed he collapsed and tried to return to sleep, but the fear that coursed through his veins and made his heart pound against his chest, made it impossible. He stared at the ceiling and said "shit, shit, shit."

Morning finally came and he rushed to the shower silently cursing as his nose began to bleed again in earnest, he was shaking from the unspoken words haunting him. He had to get to work before he lost it completely. He tried to keep his routine brief but as normal as possible blow drying his hair, drinking his coffee, brushing his teeth… willing himself not to see the bristles of his toothbrush turning pink. He once again caught his reflection but turned away quickly, he would lose it if he looked too closely. All the while Wilson was going through this hell, House was bleary eyed and crabby, bitching about Wilson's "preening". The running rant had the odd effect of helping Wilson maintain the last vestiges of his composure. The ride to work was agonizing but he held it together, he couldn't let House suspect anything so he played along.

House's brain started to awaken halfway there, his caffeine properly titrated. He became aware of Wilson's tenseness. He turned to appraise his younger friend, trying to see what the problem was. He saw Wilson's perfectly coiffed hair, starched and pressed and suitably necktied, everything seemed nominal. So what was bugging him? He finally decided to say something when Wilson pulled into their parking spot. He felt House scanning him heard his wheels turning, so he said "House I gotta go I have to present a patient to the drug trial board and I have some more research to do" and Wilson walked away at an alarming rate. "See you at Lunch?" House yelled to him. "Wilson yelled back "Maybe." Wilson exhaled with relief when his nose hadn't decided to bleed and tried to enjoy the last few moments he had left, before he knew, for sure… He snuck into an exam room at the clinic and stole a few vaccutainers and a syringe and headed for his office. Once inside he locked the door and kept the lights as low as possible. Doing your own blood draw is a bitch, especially when your hands are trembling with adrenalin, but somehow he managed. He put his lab coat on and slipped the vials of blood in his pocket and went straight to the lab, praying no one would stop him for chit chat or a consult on the way. Fortunately the lab tech's were used to the oncology attending running his own labs,so they thought nothing of it when he began running the CBC himself. In twenty minutes he would have some answers, the work itself kept his mind occupied for that time. He was almost able to pretend this was someone else's blood he was testing. He pulled the tape from the machine, afraid to read the numbers printed there. Lymphocytes L 30,000 , RBC L , Platelets L 70,000 the numbers began to blur he couldn't read them anymore, he was trying to keep from collapsing tears were burning his eyes. All he could say was "shit…" He tried to calm himself with deep breaths he still had to look at the slide. He smeared his blood on the slide and stuck it under the microscope clips. And steeled himself for what he knew he would see. He confirmed what his oncologist brain had already surmised hours ago. James Evan Wilson, Boy Wonder Oncologist, had leukemia.

SOoooooo Whaddya think? READ AND REVIEW!!!!!!