Chapter 10 - James Wilson

Chase had left his office, now he was alone, alone with himself and his thoughts. With his head leaning on one hand, turning a ballpoint pen back and forth with the other, Wilson stared into space and sighed.

Then there was a knock on the door. Wilson looked up.

"Come in," he replied to the knock, less than two seconds later the door opened and House stepped through.

"What's wrong?" asked the former cynic.

Wilson frowned in irritation.

"What do you mean? Didn't you come to me?" he replied cautiously, because secretly he already knew that House had sensed his worries. 'I can hear you care,' he had liked to say back then. He still seemed to have that power.

"I don't suppose you've arranged to meet Chase for coffee," House replied dryly and sat down on a chair across from Wilson. "So what were you talking about?" Wilson sighed heavily. He should have known that House wanted to be informed, of course. He was House, after all. But Wilson couldn't find the right words to explain to his best friend what was going on in his head at that moment. So at first he just stammered something incomprehensible softly to himself.

"Okay, so it's pretty obvious that you guys were talking about me," House continued when Wilson didn't give a helpful answer.

With a heavy heart, Wilson decided that there was no point in thinking up another lie on the fly. Why anyway? Maybe it wasn't bad at all if House knew about their plan. Maybe it would even be useful in the end.

"We talked about how we can help you get your memories back," he finally admitted and waited anxiously for his friend's reaction. Usually House hated to be interfered with in his private affairs. And when someone was playing with what was going on in his head, he could quickly get out of his skin and defend himself by withdrawing and closing himself off to his friends.

To Wilson's surprise, House only nodded in understanding and suddenly looked thoughtful as he tilted his head to one side and gazed into the void.

"Sounds great. Concrete ideas?" he asked.

Wilson blinked slowly at him. At first he could hardly believe what he was hearing and was already rubbing his eyes in irritation as if he thought he was dreaming. But then it already dawned on him why House reacted so calmly, but it did not trigger any joy in Wilson, but gave his warm heart a painful stab.

Back in the days before the accident, House would never have let him get this close to his world because he had trouble trusting. After all, in the past those whom he had trusted unconditionally had betrayed him. The thing about his leg and Stacy had left him in such a gash that he hadn't even given Wilson his full confidence from then on.

But now it was as if this incident had never happened. House had no reason not to trust Wilson because he didn't know what it was like to be disappointed.

A snap of two fingers right in front of his face made Wilson jump and abruptly brought him back to the present. House looked at him reproachfully.

"Don't sleep," he admonished sternly, but there was a hint of mockery and amusement in his eyes.

"Sorry," Wilson replied, embarrassed, stretching just a little. He pushed the depressing thoughts aside and focused on the conversation instead. "I had the idea… that we could possibly revive old acquaintances. And you might remember something when you talk to people from your past. "

Wilson watched intently how his friend reacted to it. He observed the movements in his face closely and recognized the brief expression of shock, which however disappeared as quickly as it had come. A moment later House nodded.

"That sounds like it could work," he said cautiously. He was now a long way from being as confident as he was shortly before. Wilson could understand that. At that moment he was probably thinking of the story Wilson had told him about his broken marriage.

"It... sure won't be easy," he muttered softly. "But me and your team are there to help you when the memories come back." Wilson paused for a moment. "You want your memories back, don't you?"

He was relieved when House blinked at him in surprise.

"Of course. Stupid question," he replied roughly, which made his friend smile. "How did you get the idea that I wouldn't want that?" Real confusion, almost a wenig mockery, spoke in his voice. But Wilson's smile died away. How should he put that back into nice words?

"Because..." He took a deep breath. "Because your past is not necessarily... happy. It will hurt you when you remember. You will most likely change. I could understand if you don't want that. "

He chose his words deliberately harshly, because what was the point of spreading a beautiful lie just because the truth hurt? House needed to know what was in store for him. He had to agree and be prepared.

But House reacted as expected. Although the realization that not only beautiful things awaited him visibly took the wind out of his sails, he still looked determinedly and surely at Wilson.

"I know that," Wilson heard his best friend say, his voice firm. "But it cannot stay the way it is now. I feel empty without knowing who I am." He sounded hurt when he said this, as if his empty head was causing him physical pain. He also slowly stroked his right leg again, which probably meant that the pain in it was getting worse.

Wilson nodded understandingly. As emphatic as he was, he was able to empathize with his emotional state, even if he had never found himself in such a situation. If he imagined he was so lost that he didn't even know his own name on his own, then he would probably accept the painful memories if that meant finding his way back to himself.

Now Wilson was alone again, just as he had been before House had visited him. And again he sank into troubled thoughts. It was nice to know that House agreed his plan too. But Wilson was now faced with a question to which there probably was no right answer.

Who should he contact first?

So far there had been a few people in House's life whose reappearance was not welcome, but who would in all probability shake something up in him. Wilson had considered who would be the gentlest, yet effective, choice. At first he thought of Cameron. There had been no close relationship between them, apart from their forced date. But that also meant that she hadn't played a very crucial role in House's life. Wilson had no idea whether her appearance would make any difference. And he didn't mean to do it pointlessly to Chase to get in touch with his ex-wife again.

Then there were Cuddy and Stacy. The two women had probably torn equally deep marks on the cynic's heart. Wilson had sometimes wondered who House would choose if he had a choice.

He'd been married to Stacy for five years, but her decision about his leg must have ruined their relationship of trust forever.

Cuddy and House, they had had such a strangely harmonious relationship, so unusual for the two naturally stressed people. The end of their partnership had driven House so insane that he had spent a year in jail afterwards. No doubt, he had loved her.

Annoyed, Wilson ran a hand through his now disheveled hair several times. It couldn't be that difficult to make a decision between two people when there wasn't a good choice anyway. But something in him was reluctant to bring either woman back into House's life. Honesty was always so important to him. Though, if he thought about it, he hadn't told House about his Vicodin addiction either.

When he talked to Chase, he was so sure that his plan was the right idea. Or maybe he had just convinced himself without really being sure. But House wanted it that way, Wilson had heard it with his own ears.

With a frustrated snort, Wilson jerked open a drawer a little too quickly. It creaked under the sudden strain. Wilson picked up a small cell phone and determinedly dialed a number. The long tooting on the other end of the line made his muscles tense. Was it right?

"Dr. Nolan here, hello? "

Wilson forced his clenched teeth to loosen and forced out a few words.

"Hello, this is James Wilson."