Chase was half asleep in the chair with his feet propped up on the end of Wilson's bed when Cameron pushed the door open. He'd been in that half awake zone for a while, aware of his neck aching but too comfortable otherwise to do anything about it.

He sat up, rubbing a hand over his face. A glance at his watch told him it was just past seven. House had slept, or at least hadn't made a sound, for nearly eight hours.

"How's he doing?" Cameron nodded at Wilson.

"About the same. Stronger, improving little by little. He should be waking up soon." At least, Chase hoped he would wake up soon. At the rate House was going, he couldn't take much more of this.

Cameron nodded. "And Dr House?" She adjusted the sheet before turning to look at her boss.

Chase looked over at House. He looked so vulnerable sprawled out in his chair like he was. "Better. He doesn't look quite as pained. He let me give him a drip." Chase deliberately left out the bit about adding demoral to ease the pain and help him sleep.

Her eyes widened at that, and sought out the IV line. "You get a look at his hip?"

Chase closed his eyes, remembering the scene from last night. How he'd managed to get a look at House's hip. She didn't need to know about that. "It's bruised, but I think he'll be all right. He's been pushing himself, trying to take care of Wilson. Forgetting to take care of himself."

"That's how he…" Cameron started, but a rustling behind her stopped her mid sentence. House was awake, one eye fixed on them.

"Don't you kids have work to do?" His voice was rough with sleep.

Chase looked at him. "I think we're doing it."

"Right." House used his arms to pull himself up to sitting. Once he was settled, he rubbed his hand over his face, then looked over at Wilson.

"He's improving," Chase said softly before he could ask. House nodded, his eyes shifted to the needle in his arm. Chase looked away, distracted himself by getting to his feet and stretching. "Do you need anything, Dr House?"

House rubbed his chin again. He glanced at Cameron, back to Chase.

Chase nodded. "Dr Cameron, would you go see if you can find Dr House a decent cup of coffee?"

Cameron looked between the two of them, and slowly nodded. "I won't be long."

"Thanks." Chase watched her go. Once she was gone, he moved to House's side and offered his hands to help House get up.

House was adjusting the Foley bag when she went in. For a moment, before he acknowledged her presence, she watched him. Watched how his fingers seemed to glide, how everything about him seemed, for that moment, gentle as a butterfly. Quite a contrast to the harshness he so often displayed to the outside world.

"Is there something you need, Maggie, or are you going to stand there and gawk all day? Because, you should know, there is a strict no gawking rule in this room."

Maggie couldn't help but smile. "Glad to see you're feeling better."

"Best I've felt in years." House thrust his arm out, showing off his IV line. "Dr Chase is a miracle worker."

"Mmmm hmmmm." Maggie shook her head at him. "All right. You, move." She jerked her thumb toward the foot of the bed. "And let me do my job. Assuming you haven't done it for me?"

"Would I do that?" House limped to the end of the bed. "Do you think you could get me a razor?" He rubbed his chin, scratched at his neck.

Maggie nodded and stepped up to check on the patient. "I think I can do that."

"Do what?" Cameron chirped, stepping in with the red mug from House's office and an arm full of magazines.

House rolled his eyes at her and accepted the steaming mug gratefully. "Took you long enough."

"I had to brew a fresh pot."

"Worth the wait, then."

"Where's Dr Chase? I thought he'd still be here."

"I think he ran off with one of the nurses." House winked at her. Maggie caught his eye, he winked at her too.

Cameron put the magazines by the window. "I know you probably haven't looked at the other ones I brought, but I saw these in the conference room and thought I'd bring them to you anyway."

"See how well she takes care of me?" House grinned at Maggie.

"You are a very well kept man, Dr House." Maggie answered with a wink to Cameron.

His hand was shaking and he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen Wilson with any noticeable facial hair. Maybe the week after Meg left. He'd been depressed then, more interested in drinking until he passed out than shaving.

"You should thank Nurse Maggie for bringing me an electric razor, you know. Your face would be a road map if she'd brought me a straight razor and I think it's pretty rude of you not to say anything at all about it." House sighed. In his mind he calculated the time since the attack. "I really wish you would wake up, Jimmy."

He had music playing, and words surrendered to the melody as he hummed along. His leg spasmed and he pulled away from Wilson's face with a gasp and a grunt. He set the razor down and gripped the bedrail with both hands to ride out the pain.

"Dr House?" He looked down at the hand on his arm. How did Cameron get in the room without him knowing? "Sit down. Let me…"

"No. I…I need…"

"You need to sit down."

"I do not…"

"I'll be gentle, I promise. I used to shave Billy, when he couldn't do it himself. Okay?"

He closed his eyes, then nodded and handed her the razor. He was grateful her back was to him as he sank into his chair and pulled his legs up. As soon as he was settled, his hands went to his thigh to try to massage the tension away.

He looked over at Cameron, and was somewhat relieved he couldn't actually see her working. "Now would be a really good time to wake up, Jimmy."

"Jimmy?"

"He hates that. I keep thinking if I piss him off enough, he'll wake up to tell me to shut up."

Cameron nodded. "I'm sure he'll wake up soon."

"I hope so. I don't know how much more of this I can take."

"Dr House" Cameron turned to face him. "Do you want…" She dropped her eyes and gnawed on her bottom lip. She knew he hated asking for and accepting any kind of help unless he barked the orders himself. Until now, she was pretty sure Dr Wilson was the only one he ever really leaned on.

House rubbed a hand over his face. He hadn't shaved for more than a week, and the resulting beard was driving him crazy. He'd meant to shave himself after he finished with Wilson.

Avoiding eye contact, he nodded.

Cameron moved to the ottoman. He used his left leg to push his right leg over a bit to make room for her to sit.

"Close your eyes and relax." She sat on the edge of the ottoman.

He was surprised at how gentle she was.

"Good night, Dr House," the night nurse patted Wilson's leg as she was leaving.

House gave her a slight smile. "Night Bridget." He watched her go, and sighed when the door slid shut. "With a little luck, we won't have nay more visitors tonight."

He reached for Great Expectations, but saw the stack of magazines Cameron had brought by earlier. The Fifty Most Beautiful issue of People was on top. He grabbed that instead.

"You're gonna love this. Gotta be better than Great Expectations. It's out dated, but who's counting? " He flips the first few pages. "You ever notice how the same 'Beautiful People' show up year after year? I swear, Julia Roberts is in here every year. Aren't there any other beautiful people in Hollywood? They just keep recycling the old ones. Although Jude Law, he's definitely pretty."

House glanced at Wilson. Nothing. He sighed and rubbed his hand over his face. "I don't suppose we'd ever end up on the list. Do they even do real people? You're pretty enough, but beautiful? Maybe with a little make up. I'd have to give it some thought.

"Oh, this is good. This is really good. A new one this year. That guy from Grey's Anatomy. Patrick Dempsey. Look at this smirk, will ya?" House holds the magazine up to Wilson's closed eyes. "It clearly says, 'I'm not a doctor, but I play one on TV, ergo, I know all there is to know about medicine.' I'd like to see him try to diagnose a patient. Not in this lifetime."

He sighed and flipped past a few pages. He clicked his tongue when a certain article caught his eye. "Now this is real news. Elton John is engaged to his long time partner. It's been a few months, maybe they're married now. I didn't even know he was gay. Did you know he's gay? It's shocking. Scandalous. Completely alters my perception of the man. I'll never be able to listen to his music again.

"You haven't done so well in the marriage department. Julie came by yesterday. I think I scared her off. Maybe when the divorce is final, you should try a same sex marriage. Hey, it could work. You never know. Can't be any worse…"

"House, will you shut the fuck up?"

"Hey, this stuff is important. You never know when you…: The magazine fell to the floor as House surged quickly to his feet ignoring the pain screaming through his leg. His knee spasmed and threatened to collapse, but he steadied himself on the bedrail.

He grabbed for his stethoscope and reached for Wilson's wrist with the other. "I'm glad you finally decided to come out and play. Took you long enough."

"God…What happened?" Wilson closed his eyes.

"You don't remember?"

He tried t shake his head but didn't quite make it. He opened his eyes. "Hurts."

"You hit your head pretty hard." Wilson moaned, but his grip on House's hand was strong. Strong enough House was concerned for the safety of his fingers. "Wilson?"

"I…I can't feel my legs." His wide eyes fixed on House.

Outwardly, house showed no emotion. Inside, he took a deep shuddering breath. He forced himself to look Wilson in the eye. "It's temporary. Nothing to worry about." He reached up with his other hand, awkwardly smoothing Wilson's hair away from his forehead. That one stubborn lock in the middle fell right back down. "Get some rest. We'll talk later."

"You're a lousy liar, Greg."

"I want you alert and functional when we talk about your condition."

"You have an IV line."

House's gaze shifted to the line. "Yeah. I puked all over Chase last night. I've been worried about you. Let myself get dehydrated."

Wilson's eyes closed again, as if the effort of keeping them open was too difficult House tried to pull his hand away. "Don't. Don't leave."

"I'll be right there." Though he knew his leg would strongly object, he used his right foot to pull the ottoman over close enough he could sit.