Thanks again to all my reviewers! I hope that you want me to keep the story going….I have ideas about interesting twists. I love the reviews!

Chapter Five

"What do you mean he left AMA?" Wilson shouted. This day is getting worse, he thought.

"He signed the papers, Dr. Wilson," the nurse stated. "There was nothing I could do. He was refusing any more treatment. All his tests came back clear."

"I left explicit instructions to him and you that I was aware of the test results but I wanted him to stay here until I could find out what was going on." Wilson said loudly. He really did understand that there was nothing she could do. House can be so persuasive, Wilson thought.

Dr. Wilson walked briskly down the corridor, again, running his hands through his hair. He did this when he was deep in thought and also deeply troubled. Of all the years they have been friends he still couldn't figure out what made House tick. House's misfortune could be construed as the reason why he was how he was. But he was always very private. Wilson passed by several patients down the hall and went into the men's room. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and realized how much was going on in his life right now. Work, Julie, House. Wilson turned on the water and splashed some water onto his hands and rubbed his face. Head bowed, he knew what he needed to do. Find House.

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Same of love

Sorrow sweet

Blinding light

Until we meet again

Why isn't he picking up? Wilson thought. Of course he's not going to pick up, he's not going to talk to me.

"It's your dime…beeeeeep" the answering machine spoke. House does have an interesting take on life, Wilson thought. Wilson began another message, "House pick up………I want to talk to you………..call me."

Wilson knew that this wasn't going to be easy.

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Click……Click………Click…… Even the sound of his own cane hitting the wall was annoying House. But he was bored. And tired. Once again, House yawned as he picked himself up off the couch using his cane and limped into the kitchen. The pain in his leg was constant and he knew he'd have to confront Wilson in the next few days for another prescription. He opened the fridge to try and find something to eat. Mmmm…Cuddy's fruitcake….sounds about as good to me right now as treating a bowel obstruction, House thought. He grabbed the milk and put it on the counter and hobbled over to get a glass. When he had the glass in his hand he noticed his hand shaking. Putting the glass down he hobbled over to his cane and just wasn't quick enough and fell to the ground. I'm glad James didn't see this, House thought. Must have been the unconscious thought because just at that moment, Dr. Wilson was knocking on the door. House painfully helped himself up and walked to the door.

"Sorry, I gave at the office," House said as he greeted his friend. "Or if you are here for the coffee you might want to try another apartment. My coffee tastes worse than Cuddy's fruitcake." House turned around and started walking towards the couch as he pointed to the fridge.

"So you were the one that got stuck with it?" Wilson laughed. "That's what happens when you are the last one to leave a party House. Wow, that was noble of you to actually take it." Wilson noticed that House had all his color back in his face and was pleased. "Dr. House, were you trying to make Dr. Cuddy feel good?" Wilson asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Well she looked so excited to have made the stupid thing. I was being hard on her all day. Besides, that stuff was so hard I considered it to be something I could use in self-defense when Chase gets cocky." House said, motioning Wilson to sit down.

"You have to admit she does mean well,' Wilson said, looking around House's apartment. "I like what you've done with the place. Who painted that picture?" Wilson was intrigued with a painting that was sitting up in between the TV and the wall. He picked it up and it was a picture of a sunset, one of the most beautiful he's ever seen.

"It was a paint-by-number, I got caught up in it." House said wryly.

"You did this?" exclaimed Wilson. "It's good."

House hated praise almost as much as he hated attention. "Have you heard from Julie?" House asked, changing the subject.

"She left me a message yesterday saying she wanted to talk. I haven't called her back yet." Wilson replied.

An awkward silence fell between the two friends. Wilson, being the one to break it said, "House, how do you feel?"

House looked to the floor, trying to avoid the conversation. "I'm fine. Look, there was no reason for me to stay there, I'm taking it easy here," House replied.

Wilson sat forward on the couch, his hands cupped together. "You got anything to drink here?"

"Name your poison," House replied, beginning to stand up.

"I can get my own drink House, stay there," Wilson ordered, holding his hand up.

House laughed, "Wilson, I told you I am fine. Well, except for my leg but you just keep giving me those prescriptions and I'll keep pretending to be your friend," House said sarcastically. "I can get you a drink."

Wilson slid back to the back of the couch and looked around the apartment again. "How is it that you can be so stubborn of a person and still have great taste?" Wilson asked.

House stopped where he was and answered wryly, standing up straight, "I'm not stubborn. I'm dignified."

"Sure House, you're not stubborn. That's why you left the hospital against my medical advice. No, that's not stubborn," Wilson replied back. He looked at his friend favoring his leg and felt sympathy; he just wished his friend wouldn't have had to go through that medical drama of almost losing a leg.

"Speaking of pain, I need more meds," House said without looking at his friend, continuing to pour him a drink.

"How about I make it a stipulation that in order to get more pills you need therapy?" Wilson suggested, smiling that he was holding this over him.

"Oh boy, more warm and fuzzies. Maybe we can get to know each other and even play some ball." House said dryly.

"Them or me Greg," Wilson demanded.

When House was finished pouring the drink, he limped back over to the couch and gave his friend his drink. As he handed Wilson the glass, he noticed again his hand was shaking again. Wilson slowly stood up to House's level, holding the glass and his hand at the same time. He took the drink from House and helped his friend sit down.

"I just need to sit," House told Wilson, closing his eyes.

"Greg…look, I know this is driving you nuts with me pestering you. If you're not going to take care of yourself than someone has to." Wilson said.

"But you have trouble dressing yourself Wilson," House said. "You show up at work, clothes awry. Oh wait, that's just your girlfriend's fault."

"You are good at changing the subject, did anyone ever tell you that?" Wilson asked.

House gently put his head back onto the couch and closed his eyes again.

A mellow main

So bashfully drawn

I come to your side

Until we meet again