As suspected, the place is totally empty except for Wilson playing foosball alone. There's a box of open cheese crackers beside him which House snatches up, much to Wilsons surprise, and starts eating them right in front of him with a smile.
"Thought you were masturbating when I saw you in here. Good thing I was wrong, or that would've gotten really awkward."
Wilson scores a goal, but just shows boredom from it and he starts speaking as he goes to grab the ball, "Look House, what we did last night... "
"If you brought condoms, you should've told me. Probably would've heightened your chance in us going all the way. Or would that've ruined the friendship?"
"It can't happen again."
House stops chewing and slowly puts the box back on the table as he stares at him, but Wilson puts a hand out, "Julie saw my lip, and asked me what happened and….she gave me no choice, House." He pushes his hair back, "She already hates knowing how much time I spend with you. Think this was the nail in the coffin for her."
Houses eyes're wide, "You didn't tell her we made out, did you?"
Wilson snorts, "Yes, cause that would've somehow saved the situation." He shakes his head, "No, just that we had dinner together, then had a fight afterwards because you said something out of line. Which was true."
A tense silence falls on the room and House goes to put the crackers in the cupboard as Wilson moves to the couch, his voice low, "She was on the phone to a divorce lawyer this morning."
House gives up trying to find something in the back and opens the fridge, "Wow, she works fast."
Wilson looks over at him, "You know, I get the feeling that you're not taking this seriously."
"Hey, it's your marriage, not mine." He grabs half a sandwich and takes a huge bite from it before closing the door, and Wilson laughs derisively.
"What…" As House comes around the sofa, something dawns on and he watches him in astonishment, "Did you- want this- did you plan for this to happen?" House doesn't reply, just carries on eating, and he puts a hand over his eyes, "Oh my god…"
"What?" He speaks through a mouthful of turkey. "Relax. You got what you wanted, didn't you?"
"You need to leave...right now, before I do something I might regret."
House throws the crusts in a nearby bin and stands directly across from him, "Of course I didn't plan this. I mean...I did, in a way. Didn't expect you to be so truthful with her. It's too bad you missed out the juicy parts. She would've loved to hear about the hickey - "
"Do you have any empathy at all, Greg?"
Houses body goes rigid, and he closes his mouth as he watches Wilson take a shuddering breath, before wiping his eyes and practically sneering at him, "I should've known you'd just...take advantage of this whole situation. You weren't just trying to destroy my marriage, you wanted to make me miserable in the process so I would need to leave Julie."
Somehow, through this, House finds his voice and he's almost scowling at him, "That's just your guilt talking."
"No, House, it isn't. You've been using me this entire time - god, you probably didn't even mean a word of what you said last night."
House doesn't reply. He can't. Wilson crumbling in front of him like this is almost suffocating to watch.
Wilson swallows and tries unsuccessfully to hold a few tears back, "Julie is leaving me! And you don't have anything to say? No jokes, no smart ass remarks, not even a sorry?" His voice grates out the last word, but it seems to be his breaking point as he suddenly buries his face in his hands and chokes out a sob.
When House sees tears falling through the cracks in his fingers, his mouth instantly runs dry and he finds himself blinking back his own tears, "Wils - "
"Don't." Wilson wipes his face again, but he can't look at him at all. For a moment, he manages to compose himself to get a response out and his voice is thick with emotion, "I know selflessness doesn't come easy to you, but...this is probably the worst thing you've ever done. And...and I don't think I can find it in me to forgive you."
Houses gaze drops to the floor, and he limps to the cupboard, where he swipes the box of crackers. After a last glance back, he stuffs a handful in his mouth and leaves the room.
The rest of the evening passes in a blur. His team find him in his office to report back, where he's sitting at his desk in the dark, eating out of the box while bouncing a rubber ball against the wall. Only Cameron is able to get him to talk; through a bit more trial and error, they finally crack down on what's wrong with him - after a long surgery for a bone marrow transplant, Jack's discharged from the hospital and him and his siblings end up catching a taxi home.
The door to Houses office opens, and he pauses from tossing ripped up pieces of cardboard into the bin, "Needed the box for my model race car. Crackers were good though."
Cuddy stares at him, "What the hell is wrong with you?"
House turns, and he pouts when he notices she's wearing a jacket, "Aw, you covered them up. Were they due for a nap?"
"I just talked to Wilson." She stalks towards him, and for a second, House thinks she's going to hit him with her handbag from how furious she sounds, "You knew how he felt about you, and you took advantage of him?"
"Funny, I thought I did that to everyone."
"He's your best friend!" He continues to shred more cardboard, and she sets her jaw, "House."
"What?"
She reaches over to snatch the box from him, and he pretends to dust his hands off as she throws it in the bin, "Give me one reason to believe you're capable of caring about another human being."
House pulls himself up with his cane, already frowning, "I got Wilson to leave his wife."
"And was it worth it?" She scoffs in bewilderment. "The guy is upset!"
"Of course he's upset! He loved her!"
She throws up her hands, "Unbelievable." House avoids her eyes, "So this was you just doing him a favour?"
"He was miserable! I had to do something."
"And your meddling really did wonders, House. It's amazing how - "
" - When did I admit today that I've been screwing around with Wilson?"
Cuddy folds her arms, as if accepting the challenge and smiles as she goes through their conversation from this morning. As expected, she begins drawing a blank, and House nods with his own shit eating grin.
"Never, right? You all just assumed I was, but I never said it. Says a lot more about yourselves than it does me."
She steps back as House rounds his desk and leans on the side of it. As he looks at her, he can almost feel the guilt falling from his shoulders and his entire body language changes, "Not even when I spoke to him earlier did I say it. Know why? Because it isn't true."
"I told Foreman that Wilsons happiness was more important than my own. Cameron deduced that I was scared he wouldn't leave his wife. Both you and Chase figured out he'd given me a hickey last night, and if you know me well, and you do, you'd know that I wouldn't have let that happen with anyone I don't have any romantic feelings for...except if I was drunk, but we didn't have a drop of alcohol that night. And yes, Wilson will tell you so." Cuddy looks like she wants to sink into the floor at this point. "I accepted his dinner invite. I made out with him in the bathroom. Him hating his marriage wasn't a reason for me to step in. It was his starry eyed crush on yours truly. He was going to stay with Julie no matter how miserable he got. So yes, to answer your question, I think I did do him a favor."
Cuddy watches in a daze as House bends down to take back the shredded box, but just as the tips of his fingers touch a loose piece, she clears her throat and he looks at her,
"Have you told Wilson any of what you just told me?"
He glances past her at the door, "Where is he?"
She jerks her head behind her, the smile starting to bloom on her face again, "He left his office 4 minutes ago. Should still be in the parking lot if you limp fast enough."
It's a full moon tonight. Even though the air's cool, by the time House gets down to the lot, his forehead's beaded with sweat and he's not far from keeling over from the immense shooting pain in his leg; an extremely painful reminder that he hasn't taken a Vicodin pill since seeing the ducklings this afternoon; just his luck to leave the damn bottle on his desk. As he steps out, he leans against the cool doors of the elevator and eyes the remaining cars with what light he's given; from a few feet away, he can see someone getting into theirs, but his head is blocking the light - even so, his silhouette is easy to recognise, and he starts forward, just about running to catch up with him.
"Wilson!"
Wilson turns at his name...and the movement is enough to have the light be shining behind him, so there's a white glow around his body that makes him look like an almost ethereal being. (If he isn't in such a hurry, House would stop to simply gape at how...striking the sight is.) When Wilson realises it's just him and climbs into the drivers seat, he quickens his pace.
He slams a hand on the back window, alerting Wilson who has his fingers curled around the door handle, "House, what the hell…! " He's about to lay into him when he catches sight of him doubled over, his other hand gripping his leg with his face contorted in pain. In an instant, he's by his side and putting his arm over his shoulder to help him to his seat, which House practically falls into with a relieved sigh. Wilson even takes his cane and lays it beside him.
Wilson kneels down to get a better look at him, and to Houses surprise, he raises a hand to gently squeeze his arm in reassurance as his eyes search him; ones that hold no anger towards him whatsoever, he realises.
His voice is soft with concern, "When was the last time you had a Vicodin?"
"Around 3. Left them in my office."
Without a word, Wilson stands and goes round to the passengers seat, and House hears the glovebox being opened...then shut, before he comes back and passes over a full Vicodin bottle, "Here. I keep a few in my car for these types of situations."
House holds it in his palm like it's made of gold, and he smiles as Wilson kneels in front of him again, watching him twist open the cap and pop one of the pills in his mouth, "Thanks, James."
Wilson smiles at the use of his first name, and carefully takes the bottle back to put in his jacket pocket, "You okay?"
"Yeah. Should work its magic pretty soon."
They're both silent as they let themselves take this moment in, but the quiet's soon broken through by a bike speeding down the highway. Wilson turns his head to the sound, but House's too focused on his face; he looks so different to the person who'd been in the breakroom earlier. There's not a hint of tension in his body, his eyes are so alight, and there's almost an impish grin tugging at his lips which makes him look a whole lot younger than he is. He can already see the cut at the corner of his mouth healing up.
In a flash, the grin slips away as he turns to him, and a loose hair catches on his forehead, "Listen, House…what you did to me...I can't forgive you. If you were really my friend, you would've let me deal with this break up alone and let me handle my feelings for you in my own time. But you just...saw this whole thing as a puzzle that you had to solve. Did you...ever...consider what I was going through? At all?"
House swallows, already looking at the ground, "I knew you felt guilty. Reason why I went on that date with you." Wilson frowns, "I thought that...if you realised you loved me more then you'd leave her."
He blinks at him, "And then what? Just continue to be miserable when I found out you were messing with me the whole time?"
"...No." House brings his gaze up to rest on him, and he's smiling warmly, "Wilson, there's something I need to tell you."
