She stalked her way to his office with the air of a cat on the prowl. James was still her husband, and she'd be damned if she'd let Greg House take him from her. Never mind that she'd gone to a lawyer, never mind that she'd signed the papers. Papers could be ripped up.

He wasn't at his desk, but someone was. One of his staff, she assumed. She remembered him oogling at her through the glass walls of the conference room next door. He looked up from whatever paperwork he was doing as she stood there watching him, and with a look very similar to one she'd seen from Greg hundreds of times, he motioned her in.

"You're Dr Wilson's wife," he said, as if this was news.

"And you're Australian," she countered. "Do you happen to know where I might find Dr House?"

The young Australian doctor frowned. "Did you check Dr Wilson's room?"

"I was just there. Dr Cuddy kindly escorted Dr House from the room so my husband and I could talk." If she stressed the word i husband /i it certainly wasn't intentional.

"And Dr House wasn't back when you left?" He stood and moved around the desk.

Julie Wilson sighed. Australian and dumb. "Would I be here looking for him if he was there when I left?"

"You could check Dr Cuddy's office, then. Or the cafeteria. They may have gone down to get something to eat," Chase shrugged. "I just thought of something I need to do, excuse me."

He held the door open, not so subtly suggesting she leave. He locked the door behind her, and she couldn't help but notice his long, delicate fingers. When he'd finished his task, she smiled at him. "You never told me your name."

"Dr Chase," he answered curtly.

She nodded. "It's been a pleasure, Dr Chase."

He was shivering, and the tile floor seemed to be getting colder. He'd lost track of time, not knowing how long he lay there. He'd fallen on his side with his ass exposed to anyone who came into the room, and lacked both the strength and the coordination to try to cover himself. He was beyond caring, he just wanted someone, anyone to come and get him off the floor.

From what he could see the room looked like a disaster area. He had dislodged his Foley. It had leaked urine on the floor. His IV had spit blood when it ripped out. It soaked his gown and the splints on his fingers as he tried to stop the blood flow with the heel of his hand.

He sighed in relief when he heard the door slide open. His eyes closed, he didn't even have the strength to look up to see who was there.

"Jesus, Dr. Wilson, what happened?" He recognized Chase's voice, though there were two sets of feet. He cracked one eye open. Foreman.

"Be care…careful. Floor's…wet." Wilson murmured.

"Hold on," Chase said softly, voice practically dripping with concern. "We'll get you back in bed." As he spoke he yanked the blanket from the bed and covered Wilson with it.

Foreman lifted Wilson from the floor and put him on the bed. "Are you hurt anywhere?"

Wilson grunted as Foreman lay him down. He turned on his side and curled up in a ball as best he could. "I….I …no….jussst coldd"

Chase pushed the call button for a nurse. Maggie came to the door almost immediately. "What….?"

"Get me two warm blankets, a basin of water and a suture kit. And page Dr. House. Wilson, we need to get that gown off. We'll get you warm in a minute."" He took Wilson's gown off and dropped it on the floor. " Maggie? Get someone to clean this mess up."

Foreman was checking his vitals. "Blood pressure and pulse both elevated. Not surprising." Wilson started shivering harder. Foreman touched his shoulder. "Hang on, Dr Wilson. We're working as fast as we can."

A pager went off behind him, he turned to look as Chase picked it up. "Damn, it's House's."

"Where is he?" Foreman asked. "He gave orders not to leave him alone."

Wilson looked up. "Not..hiss…fault."

Maggie came back with the blankets. Chase took them and wrapped them close around Wilson's body. "House's pager is here, you need to page Dr. Cuddy"

"I already did. I knew Dr. House was with her. Here's the suture kit. I'll get some water."

Chase nodded at Maggie, who promptly disappeared. He pulled the tray over to the bed, making eye contact with Foreman. "The IV ripped sideways, I'm going to put a couple of stitches in it just for safety." His gaze shifted to look down at Wilson. "After I get that done we'll get you cleaned up. You okay?"

Wilson gave a brief nod. He was starting to get warm, but the shivering didn't stop. Foreman rubbed his shoulder, hoping to give him at least a little warmth while Chase cleaned him up.

The hair at the back of his neck prickled when her pager went off. He stopped walking, and she flashed him an apologetic look as she pulled the pager off her belt. "It's Wilson."

"Shit."

She put a hand on his arm as he reached up to rub his face. "It doesn't mean anything. Could be that Julie left, and Maggie knows you don't want him to be alone."

He was already walking away. Three steps and he stopped, breathing hard.

"Let me get you a wheel chair."

"I'm fine," he growled, looking over his shoulder at her.

"You want me to go ahead then? I'll get there a hell of a lot faster."

He leaned his head back and hit it against the wall. "Get me a fucking chair,"

She was gone less than three minutes. House grumbled as he sat, hissed at the shifting pressure on his leg, and slid his cane across his lap. "What did the page say?"

"Nothing, Just his room number."

He slammed his hands on the arms of the chair. "Damn it. I shouldn't have left him. Fuck Julie. She has no right…"

"Calm down, House."

"I don't want to calm down."

"I'm not taking you to his room like this. Calm down, or I'll put you in a bed. With tranquilizers."

"You wouldn't." The elevator doors opened with a hum, several people got off, and those who remained moved to one side, making room for his chair.

"Try me."

House huffed rather dramatically, and said nothing. He grumbled when the elevator stopped on the next floor, allowing more people to get off and on. He was ready to catapult out of the chair when they reached Wilson's floor.

"You better behave yourself," Cuddy hissed at him as they approached Wilson's room.

House said nothing, and Cuddy clicked her tongue at him.

"What the hell?" House muttered seeing the blood on the floor inside the room. Foreman met him at the door, visibly unnerved by the intensity of House's gaze.

"He's…we're getting him cleaned up. Pulse and blood pressure are elevated, but he's all right," Foreman started.

House was out of the wheelchair, hobbling across the room unaware of his own pain. He reached the side of the bed and took hold of the bedrail. "What the hell happened? Where's Julie?"

"Shhhhh, shhhh, she left." Wilson sputtered through clacking teeth.

House wrenched one hand free of the rail, and put a hand on Wilson's shoulder. "Take a deep breath. Calm down." He glanced at Chase, on the other side of the bed. "He's having a panic attack, you idiots. Get me Ativan to settle him down." His gaze shifted back to Wilson. "Hey. Hey. It's okay. You're okay. You wanna tell me what happened?"

Wilson closed his eyes, House reached up to stroke his hair. "Okay. It's okay. Calm down. We'll talk in a minute. Okay?"

"Dr House?" Chase held the syringe across the bed. House shook his head, and held his hand out to show Chase it was shaking. Chase nodded and prepared Wilson's arm for the injection.

Wilson winced, House squeezed his shoulder and thanked Chase with a nod. "You're doing good. See. Just a panic attack. No worries. Right?"

Wilson took several deep breaths after the injection. "I…fell. Out of the chair."

House shook head. "Liar. You tried to get up."

"I…"

"I've been there, remember? Been there, done that, bought the Tshirt. Hell, I could even write the book."

Wilson turned his face away from House. Toward Chase. Chase tried to smile. Wilson closed his eyes. "I'm tired. I just want to sleep."

"Of course you do." House sighed. "Is anybody going to clean this mess up? I'd do it myself, but you know. My fucking leg hurts."

Cuddy stepped forward, but Chase spoke before she could. "Maggie is aware of the situation. She should be back any minute."

"I want you to leave." Wilson said almost too low to be heard.

"That is an excellent idea. All of you." House gestured at the door. "Out."

"You too, Greg," Wilson added.

"What?"

"Out."

"You're more addled than I thought if you think…"

"I asked you to leave, Greg. I expect you to leave."

House sat down in his chair with a rather defiant huff. "My chair is here. I'm not going anywhere."

"I don't want to argue with you."

"Then don't."

"Then leave."

"No."

Wilson sighed and closed his eyes. He brought his left arm up to rest across his face.

"Greg, I think you should come with us," Dr Cuddy said softly.

"I'm not leaving. I know what he's doing. What he's going through. He doesn't want anyone to see him like this. I get that. Okay. I get it. I also know, no matter how much he tells me to get the fuck out, he doesn't want to be alone. Being alone is worse. Trust me, Dr Cuddy. I know."

"I'm sure you do, Greg," Cuddy answered, her tone calm and neutral.

House held his jaw stubbornly set. Cuddy sighed and left the room. Chase and Foreman were already gone.

House glanced at Wilson. Silent tears slid down his cheek, into his hair. House felt his heart skip a beat. He heaved himself out of the chair, and moved once again to the side of the bed. Wilson didn't react to the hand on his arm. "I'm sorry, James."

"Oh, Dr House, I…" Maggie came in with an armload of fresh sheets and a gown for Wilson.

He nodded at her. "Is Foreman still out there? I don't think I can lift him."

"He's just outside in the hallway."

"Ask him to come in." House patted Wilson's arm. "Once we get you cleaned up, I won't let anybody else in here, okay?"

Wilson nodded without looking at House.