That night, House was playing the piano while Wilson asked questions, which annoyed House.

"But why her?"

"She was the one."

"Why not any of the other children?"

"She could see me."

"But that doesn't mean you could not have healed any of the other children!"

House banged his hands on the piano. "I just can't heal any body. Some children are meant to die and others are meant to live. Deal."

Wilson began pacing. "So, you were supposed to die? Supposed to land head first on concrete, spilling your brains on the street?!"

"No, but it was time for me to die!" House stood. "I was miserable. Cutting myself, doing more drugs than vicodin, calling hookers over because I was lonely. I didn't have a life!"

"You could have called me over!" Wilson stopped in front of House. "I'm your friend. I could have stopped by and hung out with you."

"But then you would find my drug stash, my pills, my bloody razor blades in the sink and set in on a lecture. I wanted to die, and that crash let me."

Wilson blinked. "You crashed on purpose didn't you? Didn't you? You, you found the perfect crack in the road and ran over it!"

House was fuming. "Don't speculate about how I died. I didn't do it on purpose, but I should have died before counting the times I was high and drunk on the bathroom floor. But someone wouldn't let me! I had things to finish! And now that I'm dead I realize I fucked-up a pretty good life!"

Wilson was silent and then quietly said, "I'm sorry."

"Fuck-yes you are! You're always sorry. Since I've been watching you you've been sorry so many fucking times during the day that I can't even count! Be pissed-for once. Be bitchy. Be mean. Do something bad! Don't always be the good-guy!"

"You want me to do something bad? Fine!" Wilson jumped on House but promptly fell through him and fell on his face.

"Do you really want to fight me, Wilson? You'll lose. I'm stronger than I was, and with my leg being better, I can run away faster." House took off into the hall with Wilson behind him. House shot through the wall and Wilson ran into it and fell to the ground.

House looked through the bedroom door. "You're being a jackass, Wilson. You don't want to be fighting me."

Wilson rolled back his sleeves and said, "Yes, I do, House. I never got to punch you in the face like I've always wanted to when you were alive!"

House came through the door. "Fine. Punch me, right here!" Wilson swung, but House dodged, hitting him back in the mouth. Wilson's lip was bleeding, but he didn't care. This was the most alive he'd felt in a long time. Wilson jumped on House who fell to the floor. Wilson had House pinned for a second, but was then flipped over and was punched in the jaw.

"You don't want to fight me, Jimmy," House whispered.

"No, I don't," Wilson said spitting blood. House helped Wilson into the bathroom and washed his wounds. "I'm sorry."

"I know you're sorry, Wilson. I know."


Author's Note: I hope you liked this chapter. Remember, reviews are love.