Author's Note: Thanks to all who reviewed, and I am sorry about the wait, but I have been busy moving. Hope you enjoy the new chapter and please review, it helps to let me know if I should change anything, and I'd also like input on if the story is flowing well.

Addicts Never Lie

Chapter Three: The Package

Wilson woke up the next morning and quietly started to get ready for work. It was about 7 a.m. and he knew that House wouldn't be up for at least another hour, so he made an effort to be extra quiet as he took care of his blankets and pillows, before gathering his things to head for the bathroom. He showered, and then brushed his teeth and hair, deciding to skip his normal blow drying routine, knowing that House was a light sleeper and had already complained that it made too much noise in the morning.

He finished buttoning his new light green shirt with matching dark green tie and had just sat on the toilet getting ready to put on his immaculately white socks when he heard the front doorbell ring. He looked at his watch, it was 7:45 a.m., still a bit early, but he hoped that House would hear the knocking, wake up and answer it.

After the second round of knocks and still no sound coming from the bedroom, he sighed loudly. He shoved the right sock on, grumbling as he hobbled out of the bathroom, his left foot still bare, clutching the other sock in his left hand. He walked down the hallway and quickly deposited the sock on the back of the couch as he walked towards the front door.

He peeked through the peephole and saw a man in his mid-twenties standing at the door wearing a United States Postal Service uniform holding onto a small package. He unlatched the deadbolt and opened the door, standing in the entrance as the man looked up and smiled to greet him.

"Good morning is Gregory House available?" he asked.

"Not right now, but I'm his roommate. Can I help you?"

"I have a package for him, and I figured since I had other stuff to deliver in this building, I would deliver it to the door instead of putting it in the mailbox." he said as he held out the tiny package. Wilson looked down at the package inquisitively, but didn't reach for it.

"Do I have to sign for it?" he asked hesitantly, he didn't know how House would feel about him receiving his mail.

"No, I don't think so, let me check," he said as he looked down onto his log sheet. He shook his head, "Doesn't say anything about a signature."

"Ok, um, he is asleep, and I am on my way out the door to go to work, can I just accept it and I'll be sure that he gets it?"

The young man smiled and nodded, handing the package over to Wilson. He watched him as he picked up his delivery bag and walked away before quietly closing the door. He walked over to the couch, grabbed his other sock and sat down. He put it on and then picked up the package again, looking at it closely. It was small and rectangular shaped, just big enough to not fit in his hand. It was wrapped in plain brown shipping paper, and a closer look revealed that it had only a plain label on the front addressed to House, but no return address.

He sat for a moment before looking over his shoulder beyond the couch, and down the hallway to make sure that House wasn't lurking before holding the box up to his ear, gently shaking it. His eyes opened wide as he heard the familiar and distinctive sound of rattling pills inside a prescription bottle. His mind tried not to jump to conclusions as he sat wondering why House would be ordering pills, presumably online, and not asking Wilson for them.

He stood up and with the package in hand, walked down the hallway towards House's bedroom door. He stopped at the door and raised his hand, hesitating for a moment before knocking gently. He stood outside waiting, and was surprised when he didn't hear the usual stirring coming from inside. He knocked again, louder this time, and called out House's name, waiting patiently for an answer. When none came, he held out his left hand and slowly turned the knob, opening the door.

Inside he found the usual mess, clothes were strewn about everywhere, fifty or so dog-eared books cluttered the room, and a take out box from a few nights ago sat untouched on the night table, but no sign of his best friend. He walked back out into the living room, sat the package on the table, and had started to gather his work things when he noticed that House's bag and shoes were missing. He hadn't heard him leave this morning, but his missing personal belongings were a clear indication that he had slipped out before Wilson had gotten up.

He walked into the kitchen and grabbed his lunch out of the fridge, then his briefcase, and finally the package, before walking over to the coat closet. He opened the door and took out his jacket, reaching into his right inside pocket for his keys. They had both agreed that with the impending divorce and Wilson's uncertain living arrangement, his mail should be delivered to House's apartment until he found his own place.

He took the keys out, put the jacket on and slipped on his shoes, before walking outside into the hallway, locking the front door behind him. He walked over to the mailbox, inserted the key, opened the door, and then deposited the package inside. As he latched the lid shut, he furled his brow, reaching his left hand instinctively to the back of his neck, rubbing gently.

What the hell is going on with you now House?