no own...hope you enjoy. Comments and ideas welcomed and appreciated. I rewrote this chapter twice so I hope it turned out okay.

"Are you drunk?" Cuddy almost dropped the package in her hands onto the porch.

"Well hello to you too." Wilson smiled weakly. "What the place hard to find?"

"No. Though I am wondering how one goes about purchasing a new home in less than two weeks. Especially with the new homeless look you seem to be trying out."

Wilson pretended to be insulted but had to admit he looked pretty bad. He still hadn't shaved and couldn't remember the last time he had changed his shirt. "I guess you never know when having a real estate agent for an ex is going to come in handy. Of course I didn't tell her about House. She probably wouldn't have helped me if I did. She's still mad about the way he treated Hector."

"Wilson buying this house is a lovely gesture. But you need to take care of yourself. And quit drinking. The last thing I need is another House calling in hung over all of the time."

Wilson decided to deflect. "So have you been to see House yet?"

Cuddy sighed. "No. Not yet. I planned on visiting after you brought him home. I did drop off a few things for him at the hospital though. I hope he likes them."

"Dropping things off but not visiting?" Wilson raised an eyebrow at Cuddy as she followed him through the front door.

"I am not being lectured by someone who hasn't shaved in two weeks." Cuddy quipped back.

Wilson hurried into the kitchen and shoved several empty handles of gin under the kitchen sink. "I'm fine Lisa. I've just been busy."

"Great. Now you are even starting to sound like House. I'm fine. I haven't slept in weeks and am living off of booze …but I'm fine." Cuddy looked around the living room. "This place is nice. I thought you ex was the worst agent in Jersey."

Wilson popped his head though the kitchen doorway. "She is. I paid way too much. But the place is perfect for House and she was able to rush along the paperwork for me. I told her I got evicted from my apartment for having a cat."

"All new furniture too?" Cuddy questioned.

Now there was a loaded question. Wilson wondered if Cuddy had any inkling of how difficult it had been for him to hand over the keys to the apartment that he and Amber had shared together. It had taken a very specific cocktail of guilt, Vicodin, and alcohol for Wilson to get up the nerve to box up Amber's things and leave them on the curb for the Goodwill to pickup and he finally had to coerce Chase into removing the bulk of the furniture. He hoped Bonnie hadn't noticed the smell of alcohol on his breath when they were signing the closing papers. Time to deflect again. "Want to see House's room?"

"That's okay. I'm sure you did a great job. I just stopped by to drop off the package. It's a blanket."

Wilson looked a Lisa and gave a sad smile. "You should go see him."

"You should shave." Cuddy raised her eyebrows at Wilson. "I'll see you later. Call me if you need anything."

"Sure." Wilson shut the door behind his boss and tossed the box she had left behind on the couch. He really needed to start unpacking but it could wait. The oncologist pulled the bottle of Vicodin out of his pocket and popped a few pills into his mouth. He really needed to stop taking the Vicodin. But it could wait. Maybe it could all wait. It wasn't like House would notice. Wilson looked down at the orange prescription bottle in his hand. It reminded him of House or at least who House used to be. "You're doing this for your friend." He reminded himself out loud. The friend that you helped destroy he thought. Guilt seemed to be the only real motivator Wilson could grasp at the moment. He picked up a box and started unpacking.

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"Are you ready to go?" Wilson asked quietly. House sat staring at the ceiling. He was no longer wearing the horrible hospital green shirt but was dressed in a new black t-shirt and a pair of corduroy pants. Most likely more gifts from Cuddy who seemed to think she was in some kind of gift giving competition with Santa Claus.

"No." House replied. He smiled playfully at Wilson. Although Wilson found the smile unnerving it was House's eyes that really rattled him. One would expect a blank, hollow stare from a set of dull, almost lifeless irises. But House's eyes reminded the same brilliant blue, the same window to his soul that they had always been. Looking into his eyes it was like nothing had changed and Wilson found the deeply disturbing. Already he was starting to question his choice in bringing House home.

Wilson turned away. "Are you ready?" He repeated.

"Yes." House actually giggled. The sound was unsettling. Wilson wondered to himself if he could slip House some Benadryl for the car ride home. He was on enough Vicodin to make driving the car home a probable public safety hazard. House might as well be high too.

"Okay. Let's go." House stuck his thumb in his mouth. Wilson took a deep breath. It wasn't too late to change his mind. The man who had once been his best friend put out a hand and looked at him with bright blue eyes full of trust. Even the Vicodin could drown out the stabbing feeling of guilt in Wilson's gut. House trusted him. It was too late.

"Wilson." House smiled again as he was buckled into the back seat.

"Greg." Wilson replied. He had decided to call House by his first name in hopes to make things feel a little less bizarre. So far it wasn't working.

House seemed to consider this reply until they were almost to the place they would both now call home. "Me." He finally said in a decisive tone.

"Aren't you a genius?" Wilson sarcastically commented back. He immediately regretted this as House shrank away from the sound of his voice. Wilson sighed. He continued in a happier tone. "Look there is our new house."

"House. Me." House pointed out.

"No. You are Greg. The house is where we live." Great they weren't even inside yet and House was already driving him nuts. Wilson once again considered backing out of the whole thing but recognized that the shame of not following through would probably crush him. Not that he didn't deserve as much.

"Wilson. You." Wilson didn't answer this time and House became distracted by the stuffed bear Cameron had given him earlier in the week. He sat picking at its eyes until Wilson unloaded him from the car and led him into the living room.

"Make yourself at home." Wilson gestured around the living room. House looked confused for a minute then sat on the couch sucking on the bear's paw. "No Hou..er.. Greg. That's gross." He pulled the bear's paw from the other man's mouth. House gave him a dirty look. The look was classic House. Wilson found himself becoming unnerved again.

"Time for a nap." Wilson took House by the arm and led him into his new room. House looked around the room and smiled at Wilson again. "Let's get your pajamas."

House sat placidly on the floor watching Wilson pull the pajamas from his new dresser. "No." He said pleasantly as Wilson approached him with the garment.

"Arms up." Wilson tried to maintain a cheerful tone. He would not allow himself become frustrated by a man with the mentality of a four year old, even if the other man was an eerie shell of his former friend.

"Uh-uh." House wrapped his arms tightly around his body.

"God damn-it! Only you could get a brain injury and still be as frustrating as hell!" Wilson snapped. "I should have left you where I found you! No wonder they tied you to that chair!"

"Nooo!" House moaned. He started to cry and back away from Wilson.

The sight of House crying melted away any frustration and replaced it with renewed remorse. Look at what you did to him Wilson thought to himself. And now you're making him cry too. "It's okay Greg. Do you want to put them on yourself?" House lifted up his arms. "Do you want to put it on yourself?" Wilson tried again.

House looked up at Wilson as though he was speaking one of the few languages that the former House did not understand. Wilson dropped the pajamas on the floor. He had spent days searching for the perfect home, countless sleepless nights putting things in just the right place, and weeks tormenting himself over the events that had led up to all of this. But not once had he stopped to consider or prepare himself for actually caring for House, for facing the four year old version of his friend day after day. Sure, in the past he had joked about House. He had called him twelve, seven, maybe even four a few times. But that House sure as hell didn't need help putting on a shirt. What if Cuddy was right? What if he was doing this for all of the wrong reasons? What if regret and wanting to make things right weren't enough to get through this?

"Wilson?" House looked up at him, confused.

Just treat him like he is a patient. Some random adult that has brain injury Wilson thought. He helped House up off of the floor. "No pajamas. Just nap time." He practically shoved House into bed, tossed the covers over the other man and almost ran out of the room. "Real smooth." Wilson muttered to himself. He had never treated a patient so insensitively. He was pretty sure he could here House crying again in the next room. Wilson walked over and slowly opened the bedroom door.

House looked up at him. He face was tearstained and covered in snot. "Me." He said forlornly, almost apologetically.

Wilson forced himself to sit on the edge of the bed. The sight of the tearstained House made him want to run back into the living room. It's your fault he's like this he reminded himself. "No, not you. Me."

House wiped at nose and sniffed. "You?"

Wilson sighed. "Yup, buddy. It's all me this time. Want to watch TV?"

House sat considering Wilson's offering. He looked like a small child in a storybook trying to decide if the cottage made of candy was a lucky surprise or a trap from a wicked witch who wanted to eat him. "You." House finally returned his verdict.

Wilson went to the kitchen and poured himself a glass of whiskey as House sat entranced by the talking yellow sponge on the television screen. He finally sat down on the couch next to his old friend and felt every muscle in his body tense House moved closer and laid his head on Wilson's shoulder. Wilson quickly scooted away. House gave him a quick glance that clearly stated "well fine then" and settled for cuddling his teddy bear which had been left on the couch. Wilson sighed. A least the whiskey made watching the sponge bearable.