Special thanks to the following individuals who have left comments. It is much appreciated! HuddyGirl, Abby, lenasti16, jkarr. dmarchl21, JLCH, OldSFfan, Ladytrad, bere, I HeartHouseCuddy, MystryGAB, limptulip, princessariellover876 and to all the guests who've taken the time to read and comment. Thank you!

Disclaimer: House, MD and its entities are the property of David Shore, FOX and Universal Media Corporation. This story is for sole entertainment purposes and no copyright infringement is intended.

CHAPTER FOUR:

About two months have passed at Mayfield with House and Cuddy still challenging each other and their own deeper, personal issues. Today was a different day though. It was visiting day and Wilson was granted permission to see House. Upon entering the visiting area the two exchanged hugs.

"So, you wanna take a walk? Get some fresh air?"

"If by walk you mean a leisurely limp..."

"There are benches outside, you know. We can sit down. Since you look miserable, I figured you could use the sunshine."

"I look miserable? Do you know me at all? Sunshine is my enemy...along with cheerful, needy cancer patients."

"Do you want to go or not? Not like I have all the time in the world to waste."

"Sorry. Forgot you were dying. Let's go. See if we can play guess the disorder."

The sun was shining and the temperature was comfortable, much like a blanket enclosing one with its warmth. House and Wilson were treading slowly on the sidewalk, engaged in conversation, catching up on news and gossip.

"He's seriously cheating on his wife with Nurse Tucker? What an idiot! That's like downsizing." House observes.

"Well, his wife hasn't found out yet but I'm sure she will soon when she opens up his Facebook page. There might be a note with an incriminating picture on there. So I've heard." Wilson states with mock innocence.

"You bitch you!" House says smiling. "What happened to Wise Wilson? King of Morality."

"He got bored and wanted to have a little fun before he dies. Plus, it was my way of thanking you for sitting there with me as I puked. I figured it was the least I could do."

"You are a good friend." He comments as he wipes away a fake tear.

There is silence for a minute. Then, concerned, House asks Wilson, "How are you feeling?"

"There are good days and bad days. But since I'm only two months into my five month death sentence, I'm doing okay so far physically. Some days, emotionally, it's tough. I'm fine with it though."

"I'm sorry I can't be there right now." House says with guilt in his voice.

"It's not your fault...well it is your fault for being an ass...but I'm willing to overlook it, since you getting better is more important. Plus, you still owe me a hundred dollars so I'm waiting to collect."

"For what?" House questions dumbfounded.

"Chase and Adams are an item now. I bet you it was going to happen and I was right."

"Proof! I don't do bets without proof. And don't play the guilt cancer card. It may work for other people, but not me. I need hard evidence."

Pulling out his phone, Wilson remarks, "I knew you'd say that. That's why I took this." Wilson holds up his phone to show a picture of Chase and Adams kissing in the parking garage.

"How do I know you didn't set this up?" House questions skeptically.

"I knew you'd ask that." Wilson taps a few buttons on his phone. Then he holds it up to House. "Here's your confirmation."

House looking with wide eyes, shaking his head says, "What an idiot. Adams posting a picture on her Facebook with Chase's hand on her boob and crotch. Haven't I taught these kids anything? It's always the pretty ones who are dumb. I had such high hopes too."

"Speaking of dumb..." Wilson places his phone in his pocket. "Have you even had a serious conversation with Cuddy yet?"

Confused House queries, "How did you know she was here?"

"I didn't want to tell you but, even after what happened, I kept in contact with her. I talked with her by phone for a week. Then she stopped answering my calls. I called Arlene asking if everything was okay with her, because I was worried. She was very cryptic. All she could tell me was that Cuddy was in a very bad place at that time. She told me she went to Mayfield, but she couldn't tell me why. She asked me to respect Cuddy's privacy. I knew something had to happen, but I just didn't know what."

"And you couldn't find out, Mr. Gossip?"

"I didn't want to. I honored Arlene's request, especially since she sounded so solemn. I just told her to call me if she needed anything. I haven't heard from her since."

"For a minute there I thought you'd taken over a new leaf. Good to know Mr. Humanity hasn't gone anywhere." House quips.

They stop to take a rest and sit on one of the benches.

Wilson goes on to tell him, "Whatever happened between the two of you I don't think is the main reason why she's here. I mean...I think it's part of the reason, but not all of it. As much as she was pissed and hurt by you, she wasn't completely shocked by what you did. Something bigger happened to her that pushed her over the edge. And it had to be big, because she's always shown a strong will on the outside. Something took that away. I just don't know what. Whatever secret she's hiding is enough to lock her away." He pauses for a minute and then notes acerbically, "Gee that doesn't sound familiar at all."

"Oh shut up! For your information there isn't a day that goes by where I don't wish I could take it all back and start again. Where I wish I weren't so selfish and bullheaded. I keep replaying everything over and over again in my head...keep hating who I am...what I've become. She was it, Wilson and I blew it. If I didn't blow it and wasn't such a self-centered ass, then I could've helped her through whatever she was going through. She'd never be here. She doesn't deserve to be here."

"Neither do you."

House gives him a look of surprise. "Have you forgotten I'm an addict and a psycho?

"You are a recovering addict, but you aren't a psycho. A psycho wouldn't have done everything to make sure I was okay during some crazy experimental cancer treatment. A psycho wouldn't have given his last Vicodin to make sure I didn't feel pain. A psycho wouldn't have taken pictures with hookers partying around me just to make me laugh. You aren't crazy, House. You're just...lost. Whatever issues you have, I don't think you ever dealt with them completely, since opening up is like avoiding an allergy for you. That's why you act like a psychotic ass, which can be both entertaining and scary. "

"Thank you. I feel so much better. You can stop analyzing me now. That's what I pay them to do." House wittingly says pointing his cane towards the institution.

"Fine. I'll stop. But I think once you and Cuddy deal with your personal issues, you might find yourselves again."

"Does dying suddenly kill common sense and make you a delusional idiot? I drove my car into her house, Wilson. Not like I posted naked pictures of her in the hospital lounge. Correct me if I'm wrong but I don't think vandalism by motor vehicle is an invitation for the birds to be chirping and sappy music to be playing again."

Wilson then wonders, "Why did you do it, House?"

House rests his chin on his cane, staring at Mayfield quietly for a moment. Then answers, "It doesn't matter. No reason will change what was done. It shouldn't."

"You're not even going to give me a hint? After all, You did break my wrist with your NASCAR stunt."

House turns his head to look at him. "I am sorry about that. I'm glad you punched me. I deserved it. But right now, the answer is not something you need to know. You have enough problems."

Wilson gives him a quizzical look. "What's going on, House?"

"Nothing. It's over." House gets up. "Come on. I'll play you in a game of ping pong before you go. If you win, I'll buy you a hooker. If I win, you buy me a Monster Truck season pass."

"On no, if I win you buy me two hookers and I get your bottle of Macallan 18 year old whiskey."

"You may be dying but I'm not an idiot. You're not getting my whiskey."

"What's the matter? You afraid you'll lose? That's fine. A shame this place took away your competitive skills." He remarks mockingly.

Giving Wilson the evil eye, he says, "Oh it is so on."