Just a short little chapter...mostly an exchange between House and Wilson. No own and all that. Thanks for all of the great reviews. I am glad you are all enjoying the story thus far.

"House, open this door right now. I'm serious!" Dr Lisa Cuddy stood pounding on the door of 221B.

"No mommy! I can tell you're mad at me." House said in a ridiculously child-like tone. He laughed to himself imagining Cuddy's angry expression as she stood on the other side of the door.

"House stop messing around or I'll knock this door down." Cuddy was becoming exasperated. She had been knocking on the door for over five minutes and had received nothing but a string of sarcastic comments and lewd jokes.

"You can huff and puff all you want. This House is made of bricks."

"House, please just open the damn door."

"Are you naked?"

"What do you think?"

"If I told you I was naked would you go away?"

"No."

House threw the door open and greeted his boss with a lecherous grin. "Ha! I knew you wanted to see me naked! All these years all you had to do was ask."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "I am not here to see you. I came to check on Wilson. You haven't scheduled any follow up appointments for him yet. Is he doing okay?"

"Wilson? Wilson? Oh him. I stuffed him in a closet days ago. He was getting on my nerves."

"House…"

"He's fine Cuddy. He is all knocked out on pain pills and sleeping like a baby. I've been feeding him, cleaning up after him and washing out his cage. He couldn't be happier…oh except for that whole getting the hell beat out of him thing."

"I know you care about Wilson" Cuddy said gently. "But he needs to see a doctor to make sure he is healing okay."

"Hmm. Doctor. Doctor? Where could we find one of those around here?" House pretended to be thinking. "What does that MD at the end of my name stand for again? Mean Dude? Monster-truck Driver?"

"House. I know you are a doctor. But Wilson is really fragile right now. In his delicate state he needs…."

"Oh so that is what this about?" House interrupted. "You wanted to come weep over the poor broken Wilson? Hold his hand and tell him how sorry you are and how sad and pathetic he is?"

"Wilson has been through a lot. He needs…."

"He needs his friends to treat him like they always have. Not to cry over him like some poor dying puppy."

"I know you aren't…"

"If you want someone to weep with go find Cameron. Wilson isn't an idiot. If he needs someone to talk to he'll go hire a shrink. Not that talking to a shrink makes you not an idiot."

Cuddy peaked around House's shoulder. "Can I at least go in and say hi? I brought a box with all the get well gifts you left behind when you decided to play kidnapper."

"Sure if you like talking to sleeping people. And no I am not waking Goldilocks for you."

"Has he been sleeping a lot?" Cuddy looked worried. "That could be a sign of… wait did you just call James Goldilocks?."

"A sign of someone who is on strong pretty strong painkillers and hasn't built up a tolerance? And it was his stripper name in college."

"Fine. Keep messing with me. I'll leave the box on the porch. But you better schedule a follow up visit within the next two weeks or I'll send your whole team the next time. And Cameron and Chase too."

House stood and watched Cuddy walk out of the apartment with her hand on her hips. He nearly cringed as she slammed the door behind her. He hadn't planned on messing with his boss beyond his usual teasing but the last thing Wilson needed to hear right now was all that really fragile,delicate state crap. It would have him sniveling for weeks about how everyone thought he was a pansy and a weakling.

"Wilson?" House turned around, expecting to be greeted by silence and Wilson sleeping soundly on the daybed.

"I don't need your help." Wilson was on the floor a few feet from the bed. House was surprised his friend had managed to get past the rail on the bed. Not bad for someone with no free hands and one functional leg.

"Obviously." House walked over to the bed and switched on the TV.

Wilson turned his head and glared at House. "I don't need anyone's help. I am not some helpless child."

"Never said you were. Do you see me trying to help you? I was going to suggest taking a goldfish out of water and seeing who wins in a race to the bathroom. But it is obvious you are doing fine on your own." House kept his eyes on TV screen.

"What happened to me doesn't make me weak or pathetic. I was embarrassed. I was afraid to talk about it. I mean look at who my so-called friends are? Can you blame me?"

House sighed and turned away from the TV. "Look Wilson. Cuddy couldn't help herself. She sees someone with a stubbed toe and wants to go all bleeding heart. She is almost as bad as Cameron. The two of them should start a club of Pathetic People with Bleeding Hearts. Hmm…PPBH is a bit too close to PPTH huh?" House looked to see if his joke had any effect. Wilson just gave him a bitter stare. "The only pathetic thing is man who has given a million lectures on the evils of refusing help flopping around on the floor like a fish."

"I don't look like a fish." Wilson grumbled.

"Sure you don't Nemo. Now are you going to let the perfectly good cripple sitting right next to help you up or are you going to roll on the floor like a hypocrite?"

Wilson put an arm up in the air. House rolled his eyes and pulled Wilson back over to the bed. The child-proof railing made getting him back in twice as difficult. House had a feeling his leg wasn't going to be happy later on in the night.

"I just don't want everyone staring at me like I am some kind of victim."

"Yes…no one will stare if you flop on the floor and proclaim that you are not a pansy." House said sarcastically. He looked at Wilson and let his voice soften just a bit. "Look..do I look like I am feeling sorry for you? Show people you aren't pathetic by acting like yourself. When you are ready go back to work, see patients, lecture people on how they need to change their sad and miserable ways, buy me lunch. Talk to some damn shrink and move on."

"If you don't think I am pathetic and helpless why did you bring me here? Why are you being so nice to me?" Wilson challenged.

"Because Cameron wanted to take you home and use it on her application for sainthood. I was afraid with that on her record she might succeed in convincing the pope this time. And if this is your idea of someone being nice to you then we have been hanging out for way too long now."

Wilson took a deep breath. He looked down then looked back up at House. "You're right. Over hearing Cuddy just upset me and I over reacted. "

"Of course I'm right Jimmy. I'm me."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "And you think Cameron is the one who considers herself some kind of saint."

"I'm not a saint. Just all knowing. And let's get something straight. After this I go back to being the one laying on the floor getting the lecture. Me lecturing you is just freaky."

"Sure thing."

"Okay. No more talking. TV time again. New season of Survivor."

"Oh, well we can't miss that." Wilson said sarcastically.

"No we can't Jimmy. No we can't."