Chapter 11

Disclaimer: I do not own House. Spoilers are mentioned through season three (thanks to Television Without Pity Forum spoilers.

House couldn't remember how he had gotten to the hospital. Everything seemed like a blur. He remembered speaking to a patient's mother who accused him of being high. No shit. Everyone was higher than she was.

He had walked through the halls and passed the cafeteria. He remembered Cuddy offering him Vicodin when she came begging for an answer to her patient's formerly my patient's case but he refused. He didn't even know why she wanted to see him again after the other day let alone help him. No matter. He had a better drug now: Oxycodone. Damn good stuff. Maybe too good.

Hell, he even turned down an evening with Wilson. Mother fucker. He thought he was better than the Oxy. Fool. House did prefer pills over people, well most people.

After getting home, barely, and making his way up the steps to his place, he plopped down on the couch. He took out his little bottle of misery and madness and placed it carefully on the table trying desperately to tear his gaze off of it. House sighed deeply before picking up the phone. He picked up the meds again and twirled them in between his fingers.

"Yeah, hi Mom, it's me. I guess you're up at Aunt Sarah's now…" The words cam out but House felt as if he wasn't the one speaking them. What the hell am I doing? I am actually calling her for Christmas. Never did before. Maybe because… He stopped and hung up the phone relinquishing his strength to the orange bottle in his shaking hand.

Wilson kept banging on the door but there was still no answer. God damn him. All he has to do is yell at me and I know he's OK.

"House, I know you're in there."

No response. It's time to use my key.

Wilson opened the door and felt his heart skip a beat. House was dead. Oh my God, he's dead…..

He raced over to check his pulse. House looked him right in the eyes. House….

House could only see Wilson's eyes. Nothing else was clear enough to focus on. He could feel the vomit on his face and smell it on the carpet beside him. Wilson….I was wrong….people over pills….Wait, why is Wilson shaking his head and putting me back. No, don't leave please.

House heard Wilson walking toward the door and heard him speaking in his phone. House wished he could smile, but he only saw the darkness.

When he awoke he was in a hospital. The rooms were set up differently than the Plainsboro one. Secrecy. Keep me hidden.

House opened one eye feebly searching the room until he found what he was looking for. Wilson sat in a chair in the corner trying to disguise himself in the shadows, but not well enough. His shoes stuck out and House could always tell Wilson from his shoes. Neither one spoke. It was evident to House that Wilson hadn't moved, maybe even put a stop to his breathing a bit until House was OK. Don't do it for me….I will never be OK…

"You are a goddamn idiot."

House said nothing in response even though there were a million things to say.

Wilson stood up slowly and walked over to the edge of the bed. He didn't need to say anything. House could see the disappointed on his warm face. House didn't want to look in Wilson's eyes anymore. First Cuddy and now Wilson…maybe both for a long time… While it was often easy to disappoint Wilson, the feeling that accompanied that action was often one that lingered past it's time. Maybe it is past my time…maybe not.

"Here."

House was forced to look back up at Wilson who was holding out a syringe. He pumped the air out and slid it over to House's hand. Morphine?

House's eyes were questioning and full of sorrow.

Sorrow? I have never seen that before. Wilson shook his head. Couldn't be. Another trick. House was great at tricks… House held onto the needle. He's going to take it without even questioning what's in it. Wilson gripped the needle tighter. House's eyes were so blue…begging….for forgiveness? Mercy?

"It's morphine."

House's eyes understood.

"Enough to kill an elephant."

House's blue eyes widened just a bit to reflect this knowledge. Wilson kept his grip on the needle allowing the decision House was about to make to seep in. House please don't take this…it is a test…

House swallowed. His hollow eyes turned from his friend's and tore the needle with full force from Wilson's sweaty palm. House looked in Wilson's sad eyes without a word being said. House then lowered his shamefully. I have failed….

Wilson felt his own eyes welling up as he walked out of the door never once turning back.

House sat motionless on the bed his hand tightly wound around the needle. He looked at it briefly before placing it gently on the bed and rubbing his tired eyes. What have I done? He kept his face covered not even allowing himself to see the tears flowing.

House was discharged hours later. His stomach was pumped free and staying in this deathtrap only made him long for death more. He checked himself out against the advice from his doctor. The guy's a moron. Probably still in the Pee Wee Leagues…

House limped out into the hallway with a small bag of belongings under his arm. He held the needle in his hand one last time and sighed deeply before dropping it into the biohazard waste container.

"Nice to see you among the living."

House turned toward the direction of the voice. Wilson?

Quick wit remarks are the best way to keep his emotions at bay.

"Elephants, huh? What have you got against elephants?"

Wilson smiled. House found himself returning the smile briefly before it faded into nothing.

"I choose people."

Wilson nodded. He understood what that meant and knew what would come next.

Sorry no Tritter in this one. I thought he would make an appearance, but next chapter he will. Please review! I love it and it makes me write a lot faster…..

Up next: Tritter faces House. Cuddy finds out what happens and tries to talk to him….what will happen between those two?