A/N: Hey guys, so sorry for the long wait between chapters. It took me forever to figure out where I wanted to go with this story. Hopefully this makes up for it. Enjoy!

Chapter 2

There was a long pause before Nolan repeated House's words in question form. "I'm not supposed to be?"

House shook his head, speaking softly. "Very few people ever get the privilege to get to know my pain that well; very few even need the ability. The only reason Wilson can is because he hardly left my side the year after the infarction happened".

This was the most open House had been in quite some time and Nolan wasn't quite sure what to do with himself. Luckily, Wilson chose that precise moment to enter his office.

"Hi Dr. Nolan, sorry I took so long. I got stuck in a consult." He spared a worried glance toward House, "All okay here?"

House nodded quickly, reassuring his friend. Wilson performed his own internal assessment anyway; he did seem okay but there was, as always, the undercurrent of fear in his eyes. Falls that severe didn't happen often for House and when they did, they were a reminder of the pain he had been through - what he could very well be going through again now that he was off of the Vicodin.

"Wilson, honestly I'm good. You'll know when I need to bail".

Wilson nodded and rubbed the back of his neck, anxious at having been caught mother - henning.

"Well," Nolan broached, "if that's the case, I would like to continue the session - as long as that's alright with you, House."

Nolan received another quick nod in response and Wilson took that as his cue to start moving toward the door, "I'll be in the waiting room".

"Not so fast Dr. Wilson; the incident earlier today has provided an opportunity to discuss something I'll admit I may have otherwise glossed over. We clearly need to come up with a better pain management plan now that opioids are no longer in the picture. In order to do that, I need to better understand the infarction and it's after-effects on House. Obviously, I'll be talking to him directly, but I find two heads can be better than one when it comes to recounting details. House said you were with him pretty constantly for the first year afterwards".

"I was…" Wilson hesitated, glancing at House and asking silent permission. House gave it with a flick of his eyes toward the chair beside him and Wilson settled into the seat.

"I would really like to learn more about the pain of the infarction specifically and how it affects your daily life, House."

House scoffed. How didn't it affect him? It was an ever-present entity; there from the time he got up in the morning to the time he went to bed at night. "Infarctions hurt. It's what they do."

"So", Nolan hedged, "You're used to the pain. That doesn't mean it hasn't taken a toll on you".

House's eyes hardened with remembered pain as he tried to force himself to say something, but Wilson spoke up first.

"It certainly did". It had taken quite the toll on Wilson, too. He remembered all too well the days of watching House alternate between states of drugged stupor and absolute agony. Even worse were the days in between those two extremes; the days when something small and insignificant completely broke him. One occasion in particular still stuck out in Wilson's mind.

It was only a few weeks after House had returned from the hospital. Wilson had told himself that House would be fine; after all he was only going for groceries. It wouldn't be a long outing. He shut the door behind him, confident that House would still be in that exact position on the couch when he returned. He was wrong.

Wilson must've been telling this story out loud because he was startled from his thoughts by Nolan asking him to continue.

"All I know is that he was on the bathroom floor when I came home. He never did tell me how he got there."

"I assumed you'd be smart enough to figure it out for yourself, but you know what they say about assuming." House rolled his eyes and looked pointedly at Wilson, followed by Nolan.

"What happened was I tried to pee. Idiotic in hindsight, I know, but the bladder wants what it wants." House's light, sarcastic tone suddenly darkened, "I honestly thought I would be able to do it; I wasn't as accustomed to this thing's limits as I am now."

"So, what did you do?" probed Nolan gently.

"I did what anyone else would do; I screamed absolute bloody murder hoping someone would hear. When that didn't work and the pain had taken enough out of me that I didn't have the energy to keep screaming anyway, I just gave up. I knew I wasn't getting up on my own and Wilson would be home...eventually. So, I laid there waiting to be rescued like the pathetic, useless, lump on a log I was. That I still am sometimes."

House finished speaking and glanced up at his audience. Nolan, ever the professional, was simply jotting down some notes on this latest divulsion. Wilson, on the other hand, looked like he was barely holding himself together. If House wasn't mistaken, his friend was holding back tears.

"My god...House I had no idea. I'm so sorry". Wilson finally uttered softly.

House only shrugged but Nolan was more pensive. There was certainly a lot of work left to be done.