While going through the line, Wilson spotted Jensen having breakfast, and he took his tray over and dropped into the other side of the booth. "Morning."

"Good morning, James," Jensen replied. "How are you holding up?" They kept their voices low, but the cafeteria was bustling at the moment, a hum of rush-hour conversation, providing the privacy of excess noise.

"Okay, I think. It felt really good to actually sleep in my own bed last night." He immediately jumped trains from himself to his friends. "When I went in to check on House a few minutes ago, would you believe he had just slammed his wrist into the bed rail? Straight across the stitches. He was just about shaking with the pain, but he didn't want anything for it at first. Stubborn idiot."

Jensen had just been sitting here thinking about House, of course. He hoped House and Cuddy had managed to talk through a few things when he left them alone. He'd seen difficulties on the horizon as soon as Cuddy started to talk to the mothers, but with everyone right there in the room, he'd had no way to stop her and had been forced to play along. But she definitely should have discussed it with House. When Jensen suggested the strategy, he hadn't meant that she should completely eliminate House from the decision. Blythe's oblivious assessment of future disability and convalescence hadn't helped much either, but that wouldn't have hit quite so hard had House not already been upset at being shut out and discounted. "Did he hurt himself?" Jensen asked.

"Some minor bleeding around the stitches. Not too bad. It had just been looking less inflamed from the infection, too, and he decides to hit it on the rails." Wilson shook his head. "I can understand he's frustrated, but hurting himself worse isn't going to help. I gave him some more meds; he ought to be sleeping all morning."

"By the way, speaking of his hands, I was watching him eat breakfast. He wasn't having problems handling a spoon with his right hand. I really think his difficulties yesterday were just exhaustion. His writing looks steadier this morning, too."

"Good. We need to get a full neurological evaluation on him." Wilson sighed. "I hope the language difficulties are it. If he has balance or coordination issues, especially with walking, it's going to be that much harder for him given his leg anyway. The bruising on the left is beginning to fade, but that alone is going to take a while to go away completely. It was deep into the muscle. I'm not sure he's strong enough right now to try to walk anyway, and I'm not sure how valid the results would be yet. Hard to split acute leg injury, chronic leg injury, and brain damage. We'll probably do another MRI at least today, get some reading on how things look. Long term, they're going to need some help for at least a while."

"Dr. Cuddy and I were discussing that this morning. She's going to let the mothers take Rachel home and keep her at the moment, but when she and Dr. House are discharged, they'll hire help, and the mothers have already been told that's when they need to bow out and go home."

"I can do it," Wilson objected, his need-alert immediately going off. "They don't have to pay somebody."

"Bad idea for two reasons, James. First is that you also need to resume your normal life as quickly as possible, just as they do. You can of course help out to some extent, when and only when they ask, but you do not need to appoint yourself their caretaker. When they are discharged, it's time to back away and let them handle things." Wilson started to protest, then closed his mouth, thinking about it. "I know you want to. They know you want to, too, and I'm sure they will let you help out some. But you have to allow them to set the boundaries on that. You don't need to decide yourself once they get home what they need and what's best, and you know you would if you were staying with them."

Wilson sighed, his shoulders drooping. "You're right. I would. Damn it, this is hard sometimes."

"Aren't you curious about the second reason? That one has nothing to do with you. You aren't the only one with issues we're dealing with here."

Wilson's curiosity rose. "Okay, what's the second reason?"

"The mothers, as I said. We established a compromise offer, Rachel now, but they know they'll have to leave later. They were reluctant on that and will continue to be. Can't you see the tremendous difference from their perspective between knowing they're not needed because professional help would be hired and knowing they're not needed because a friend is going to take their place instead?" Wilson's eyebrows rose as that point registered. "It is much more palatable to family to be replaced by hired help than to be replaced by a friend. They can keep the illusion on the first that this is a matter of convenience, not a matter of personal preference. On the second, there's no possible way to avoid that conclusion."

"Wow. I wasn't even thinking of their perspective. I can definitely see the point there." He nodded. "Okay, I'll try to hang back a little once they're out unless they ask me specifically for something. By the way, update on Abby this morning from the neonatologist. She's hanging tough, although she seems to have picked up an infection now. The neonatologist said best discharge scenario is mid January."

"Possibly for the best. She, of course, will need intense monitoring and care, more so than a usual baby. They need a chance to heal first."

Wilson nodded regretfully. "Cuddy suggested delaying Christmas, so they could have a homecoming too. I know House has always had some issues with Christmas. I'd try to spend it with him every year, but I could tell there was something else going on." He'd spent it with House except for the one year he'd walked out on him after House's overdose, Wilson remembered guiltily. He quickly went on. "I hope they do postpone it. Be nice for them to get some good Christmas associations."

Jensen knew more about House's holiday reluctance than Wilson did, but he didn't say so. "What were you thinking about there in the middle? You're feeling guilty again."

"Not here," Wilson replied, looking around, although the cafeteria was still bustling with nobody paying them any attention. Nothing in the environment had changed in the past five minutes.

Still, Jensen allowed the dodge. "Okay. We'll hit that on some future session."

"I"m looking forward to plain old office appointments again. Nothing personal, but nobody wants to see his psychiatrist this much."

Jensen laughed. "Believe me, I'm looking forward to plain old office appointments again, too." He stood up, collecting his tray. "I have some shopping to do today, but I'll have my cell phone, of course, and I'll be back this afternoon."

Wilson was left staring at his own plate in confusion after the psychiatrist departed. Shopping?