This is a companion piece to the previous chapter. A little more Wilson torture in this one, but don't worry, he'll be fine. ;)

P.S. Cuddy will return to us in the next chapter. Promise.

Junior High...

Wilson found himself running down the stairs two at a time to the cafeteria. He had finally made it to lunch with all of his food accounted for, and his mouth was watering at the thought of his pastrami sandwich on rye.

When he entered the cafeteria, he made his way over to the same table he had been sitting at all week. House wasn't there yet, so Wilson took a seat alone and began eating his sandwich.

As he took his first bite, Wilson felt a presence behind him. Thinking it was House, Wilson looked up with a smile. The smile quickly became a frown when he saw Phillip's face grinning back at him. "Hey, you found a new table for us." Phillip said pleased. Wilson looked away nervously.

"What's the matter? Not happy to see us?" Phillip took a seat next to Wilson while the other three boys stood around them.

Wilson's stomach was in his throat. He kept his eyes downcast, not wanting them to see his fear.

It didn't work.

"That looks delicious." Phillip pointed to Wilson's lunch. "But we've got our own lunch today." He gestured to his tray full of fries. "It's not as good as your mom's soup, but we're not all as lucky as you." The boys laughed, and Phillip continued.

"They just need some ketchup. Ketchup makes everything taste better, don't you think?" Phillip asked Wilson, who didn't respond. "Sometimes the four of us will finish an entire bottle in just one lunch period." Phillip said with an evil glint in his eye.

He was up to something.

Phillip waved a large boy over to Wilson. "Mike, why don't you show Jimbo how much ketchup we like on our fries?"

"No problem." Mike growled.

Dread overtook Wilson. He knew what was coming before it happened.

Closing his eyes, he felt the weird sensation of ketchup sliding over his hair and down his face. He heard the group of boys erupt with laughter, which got the attention of other people in the cafeteria. Soon everyone else was pointing and laughing as well.

Wilson began trembling with embarrassment. His face became the same color as the ketchup in his hair.

To top off the humiliation, Phillip picked up the rest of Wilson's delicious sandwich and added it to his own tray.

"Enjoy your lunch now, Jimbo." Phillip sneered.

The group of boys headed back to their own table, laughing as they went.

Wilson wanted the ground to open up and swallow him. He could feel his eyes begin to water, but he knew if he cried now, he could never show his face at this school again...

Greg House entered the cafeteria uncharacteristically exuberant. It had been a good day so far.

His father left for Guam this morning where he would be stationed for two months, which in turn meant House would be getting lunch money for at least two months.

One of his father's favorite punishments was refusing to give him lunch money...or any money for that matter.

Making his way over to the lunch line, House silently cursed when he saw he would have to wait more then two minutes to get his lunch. As he waited, he caught a glimpse of Wilson out of the corner of his eye. Wilson had just sat down at their table, and it looked as if he managed to hold onto his lunch today.

House couldn't stop the grin from forming on his face. He was glad Webber decided to lay off him today.

Normally House would make it his mission to alienate anyone and everyone, but there was something different about Wilson.

Wilson was an odd kid, much to House's delight. There was a dark side to him that House could detect underneath the boyscout exterior. He was interesting, and House was known to fixate on the things he found interesting.

House also had to admire his bravery. Kids who wore sweater vests and pocket protectors were a lot braver then the ones with ripped jeans and purple hair.

As the line lessened, House selected his lunch. He grabbed a sandwich, some chocolate pudding, and a plate of fries before making his way over to the cash register. Just a few more seconds and he'd be enjoying his first lunch at his new school.

Exiting the line, House glanced over to his table. What he saw made him lose his appetite.

Those idiots were laughing their heads off while Wilson was taking a bath in ketchup.

House could see the torment on Wilson's face, and he felt a rage grow inside him. Memories of his father's constant cruelty came rushing to him. Getting ridiculed in front of strangers, getting beaten with his father's belt, being insulted to the point of tears. He knew the exact pain and humiliation Wilson was feeling at that moment. It was a feeling House wouldn't wish on anyone. He suddenly felt very protective of Wilson, and the only thing on his mind was the overwhelming urge to hurt Phillip Webber. A lot.

Gripping his tray tightly, House quickly made his way over to the group.

Heading back to their own table, Webber and the other morons were completely unaware of the danger heading straight for them.

As Webber walked closer, House made his move. He took his lunch tray, full of crispy french fries and rich chocolate pudding, and smashed it into Webber's face. Webber never knew what hit him. He fell to the ground instantly and House followed, throwing as many punches as he could before Webber's posse came to his rescue.

House felt someone grab him from behind, pinning his arms at his sides.

'Shit' House thought. In this position he was dead meat. Four against one didn't stack too well in his favor. He tried to break free of the boy's hold, but he was kicked in the groin before he could wriggle away. The air left his lungs, and his legs gave out from under him. If the guy behind him wasn't holding him up, he'd have been sprawled out on the floor.

There was a yell from somewhere to the left, and House looked up long enough to see Wilson had joined the fight. Ketchup and all.

House tried to regroup, but it was too difficult as he was getting pummeled from every direction. He vaguely noticed the circle of students that had formed to watch the fight and cheer them on. He felt the sudden sensation of falling, and then the impact of the hard floor. The boy behind him had finally let him go.

The room was spinning. House's head felt like it was split in two.

Just some side effects of getting hit in the face repeatedly.

"Had enough yet?" House heard Webber ask him furiously. When he looked up at Webber's face and saw his busted nose covered in blood and chocolate pudding, House couldn't hold back a smirk.

"I'm still conscious ain't I?" House snapped back from the floor, too stubborn to give up on even a losing fight. He felt a kick to his head and this time spots of darkness clouded his vision.

House heard a yelp of pain to his right, and saw Wilson on the floor just a few feet from him. One of the boys standing over Wilson was stepping on his fingers, making sure he would not intervene again. House tried to get up, but it felt as if his limbs were filled with cement.

"You're freaking crazy." One of Webber's cronies said to House. "Why do you care what we do to that little shit?"

"Is this guy your new boyfriend?" Webber taunted Wilson.

"Don't be jealous." House muttered, and received another blow to the head for it.

Before any more damage could be done, the fight was finally stopped by two teachers with megaphones.

"EVERYONE GET BACK TO YOUR SEATS! GET BACK TO YOUR SEATS NOW OR WE'LL HAVE THE ENTIRE CLASS STAY AFTER SCHOOL TODAY!"

As the crowd dispersed, all that remained were the six boys covered in blood and...ketchup?

"Mr. Webber, get yourself and your crew cleaned up and meet me in my office." One of the teachers ordered, aware of the reputation Phillip Webber had acquired during his short time at the school. "I'm going to need to call all of your parents to discuss how long your suspensions will last." He listened to the loud protests that followed while the second teacher turned his attention to House and Wilson.

"Are you boys alright?" He asked kneeling down next to House and helping him to sit up.

"I think so." House said. "My head just feels like a bowling ball fell on it."

Wilson was on his feet, holding his hand gingerly to his chest. "I'm okay sir." He told the teacher, not looking anywhere close to okay.

The teacher looked at them both and sighed. "I'm taking both of you to the nurse's office to make sure you're okay. If everything is fine, I want you both in my office before the end of the day. I'm going to find out what happened down here."

1 hour later...

House and Wilson were seated together in Mr. Richards' office. They had been cleared by the nurse, neither sustaining any serious injuries. House ended up with a bloody nose and a black eye. Wilson's hand wasn't broken, just a little sore. He had some bruising around his right cheek too that would probably look pretty nasty tomorrow. Considering how bad it could have been, they had both been lucky to walk away with such minor injuries.

Currently, both were lost in their own thoughts.

House had his head tilted back, and was holding a bag of ice to his face, trying to stop the inevitable swelling.

Wilson was painfully flexing his hand, thinking about the day's events. It had been one of his worst days at Junior High. It was going to take a very long time for him to live this one down.

Wilson looked over to where House was seated with the bag of ice covering half of his face. Wilson smiled in spite of himself. Today also happened to be one of his best days at Junior High, for he had found an unlikely ally in House. Knowing someone had his back made Wilson feel more confident then he ever had before. It was a comfort to know there was someone there going through the same thing he was.

If you were going to be humiliated and beaten up in front of all of your classmates, it was best not to do it alone.

"Thanks for helping me today. No one has ever done that before." Wilson said gratefully. "Even if we did get our asses kicked." He added with a smile.

House was adjusting his ice pack when he heard Wilson thank him. "Yeah, well don't make it a habit, okay?" House said uncomfortably. He wasn't used to being praised, and he definitely wasn't used to being thanked.

"Why did you do it?" Wilson asked him eagerly.

House was silent for a moment, then shrugged. "I hate unfair fights."

"But the fight was just as unfair when you took on four of them at once." Wilson pointed out.

"Would you have preferred I laugh along with everyone else in the lunchroom?" House snapped, annoyed at Wilson's prying.

Wilson shook his head. "No, of course not."

"Then stop asking so many damn questions." House grumbled.

"Sorry, it's just that it was pretty amazing." Wilson said delighted. "I just wish I could have seen Phillip's face when you decked him."

House's one good eye looked over at Wilson. "Jackass never knew what hit him." House smirked. "Crumpled like a piece of paper."

Wilson laughed, but then hissed in pain as the bruises on his face made themselves known.

"Looks like you took a few direct hits yourself." House gestured to Wilson's face.

Wilson shrugged. "A few, but it's not that bad."

"From where I was laying it looked like that oaf was doing a tap dance on your fingers." House grinned.

"At least it wasn't on my head. I thought for sure you were gonna need dentures by the time they were through with you." Wilson grimaced at the memory.

"They hit like a bunch of girls." House muttered with his face still half hidden by ice.

"Then remind me not to upset any of the girls you know." Wilson said, alarmed.

"You're not their type anyway, Jimmy." House goaded.

"It's their loss." Wilson said confidently, playing along with House's game.

"Now that you mention it," House began seriously. "You do make a cute red head." He gestured to the now dried ketchup that was matting Wilson's hair to his head.

Wilson stared at him with a blank expression on his face. House stared back, trying not to crack first.

Suddenly without warning, Wilson burst into laughter, unable to control himself.

House could do nothing but join in. It was contagious.

Their laughter continued even when Mr. Richards entered the room. Finding the boys in hysterics, he suspected they had taken one too many blows to the head. He cleared his throat, causing the laughter to cease and the two boys to look up at him.

"Now, can someone please tell me what happened in the cafeteria this afternoon?" he asked.

Still grinning, the boys looked at each other, and cracked up again.

In spite of the ketchup, the bruises, and the overall embarrassment of today, Wilson felt happier right then, than he had in a long time.

It was a day he would not soon forget, and he looked forward to having many more of them with his new friend.

END...