House goes over to the ICU. He limps slowly peering into each room. He comes to a sudden stop seeing a very familiar body slumped into a bed, eyes closed. He stands outside of the door just watching him sleep. He stands there awhile trying to figure out what to do. Should he go in there and confront him? Or just stand there letting Wilson come to him? Standing there won't do much for him, the only thing that it will bring would be severe leg pain.

He continues to stand there confused on his next move. He still can't figure out why Wilson woul do such a thing. Was it because of him? Was it from the pressure of his work? It could be from anything. Still he stands there not making a move, he wants to find out why but he's already afraid that he knows the answer. He enters the room not taking his eyes off of Wilson.

Wilson's arms are on top of his covers all bandaged up, some blood is seeping past the thick white layers. He stares at the bandages sharply not wanting to believe that they are real. But sometimes reality is a bitch, and it came in the form of the bloody bandages on Wilson's arms. Wilson squirms around grunting. He blinks a few times yawning looking up to see his best friend House. He gets a perplexed gaze not knowing what to expect.

House's facial expression is priceless. He looks like a sad lost puppy pouting in the rain.

"House? What are you doing here?" Wilson says in a low tone yawning once more.

House is silent not knowing exactally what to say to him. "You're my best friend."

Wilson continues to stare at him perplexed. "I thought that we are fighting, why aren't you bitching me out and telling me that I'm an idiot?"

House glances away for a moment gathering his thoughts. "I'm sorry. I know I started the fight and I didn't mean to cause it. I completely apologize for everything that I said to you. I understand if you don't forgive me, in this friendship it seems that I am the one always causing the pain." House walks to the door slowly, eyes beginning to swell up.

"Greg…You will always be my best friend. One little fight won't change that, you don't have to cry over this." Wilson says trying to read his expression.

"I am not crying. It wasn't a little fight, I completely fucked up. I don't deserve a friend like you."

Wilson sighs. "House, your only saying this because you are feeling really sorry for me. Look I know that your just drying to bitch me out and rub me being here in my face. Let it go and do it, I don't feel like hearing it later."

House turns back around to face Wilson, tears falling from his face. "Maybe I do feel sorry for you, but I will always bitch you out no matter what stupid suicide trick that you try to pull."

Wilson lets out a small laugh. "That's the House we all know and love."

House is chocked up for once in his life trying hard to speak. "Why…Why did you try and commit suicide?"

Wilson avoids eye contact at all cost. "You don't want to know, it was stupid."

House can't believe what he is hearing. "Stupid? No one trys to comitt suicide for a stupid reason. Whatever reason it was, it had to be very important and eating away at your soul for you to do something like this."

Wilson sighs once more trying to ease his pain. "It is stupid now that I think about it, but at the time it felt like the right thing to do."

"Why did you try to do it? What if you did kill yourself? What would I tell all of the little dying bald kids? That their doctor committed suicide because he couldn't deal with their illness?"

Wilson gets a serious look upon his face. "Fine, if you will stop bugging me and stay away from my patients then I will tell you."

House pulls a chair over and moves it close to Wilson's bed. "Alright I won't bug them now tell me."

Wilson shifts his weight to get into a more comfortable position. "The reason why I did it was because…Let me explain in complete detail. A few days ago you were in a horrible mood, since we discovered that you were detoxing from your ex-boyfriend's drugs I let that slide. The day after that Septis continues to piss me off to the point where I want to hit him. Just seeing him do and say such awful things can turn anyone against him. You were still in a bad mood through out all of that. You punched a man through a wall, not to mention put your hand through my door. And the biggest thing of all happens. You start a fight with me that seems to last for years! Your entire team was bugging me trying to find your ass! Now do you see why I did it? Your crazy fucking ass caused me to do this! I can't take it anymore! I get off early and everyone treats it like it's the end of the world as we know it." Wilson takes a deep breath trying to make sure that he can still breathe.

House is silent comprehending the anger that Wilson has just relased. He nods lowering his head gazing at the floor. He messes with his cane becoming un-comfortable at this situation. Just knowing that he caused it was enough to cause him to do something tragic. Silence dominates the room as neither man dares to speak to one another now House knowing that he caused this to happen to his best and only friend.

"Wilson…I'm really sorry…" House limps out of the room wandering back out into the hallways heading back to the only place he can get peace and quite.

Wilson rubs his hands over his face feeling sorrow for his friend's massive guilt. He sighs flipping on the t.v. House has his head down on his desk thinking as usual. He's trying to figure out why he's been acting even more of an ass then usual lately. That's not like him to act this much of an ass to everyone. It could be from the breakup with the ex-boyfriend who drugged him up? Or from the many stresses of work? No, maybe it was from punching three holes into two walls, a person, and a door? There's always that option.

He can't blame Tritter this time for his actions, nor can he blame his Vicodin. What was it then that caused this to all go sour? There has to be an explaination there always is one. What about his recent patient? That took about a day to figure out. Cuddy could be blamed easy and so could his team. House instantly sits up realizing what the problem has been all along. The problem was always there it was just hiding.

"The problem is me…" He mutters to himself in a really low tone.