Chapter Twelve

"You don't have to worry, I'll buy the pizza tonight," House told Wilson as he was opening the door to his apartment.

"Please House, don't mention food," Wilson responded, still ill from lunch.

"I can't help it that you have poor taste in food choices," House told him. He sifted through the mail while he limped over to the couch. "Why don't you take it easy and lay down for awhile." House looked at his friend and saw how tired he was. Emotionally and physically.

"Good idea. Just please don't wake me if you order out," Wilson reminded him, walking to the bedroom.

House sat on the couch reading the mail. He was worried about Wilson. He had never found anyone that truly cared like he did. House walked to the kitchen and opened up the drawer under the cabinet. Standing there for several minutes he picked up a bottle of scotch. Drawing on his thoughts he was about to pour himself a drink and stopped. Putting his hand through his hair he put the bottle back and limped back over to the couch.

House himself decided to rest. He reached over to the coffee table and grabbed his medication, as he leg was beginning to cramp. After taking two, he lied back on the couch and closed his eyes.

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He told me the story

I sat and listened

Believed the words

Strumming the strings

I care for the weak

Until we meet again

Wilson woke up to his cell phone ringing. He sat up in bed and rubbed his eyes. Finally my headache is gone, he thought. Reaching over to his coat pocket, he looked at the caller ID. Julie.

"Hi," Wilson began.

"Hi," Julie followed.

"How are you?" Wilson continued.

"Tired. I haven't been getting much sleep," Julie commented.

"I know how you feel." Wilson knew exactly how she felt. He's been very out of commission these last few days that he really hasn't been able to sleep much.

"Can we talk?" Julie asked.

"Sure…just tell me when," Wilson told her.

"Can you meet me tonight?" Julie asked.

After Wilson and Julie talked about the logistics of the date, he hung up the phone and walked out of the room.

"Good morning," House told him, even though it was 6:30 p.m.

"Haha." Wilson was glad he was here. He really didn't want to be alone, and this way he could keep an eye on House's health.

"Feel better?" House asked as he flipped through the TV.

"Much. How about yourself?" Wilson asked his friend.

"I'd like to be working but other than that…" House was pressing the issue.

"Like I said, House. Three good days. And besides, you promised me that you would sleep for three days. I don't forget promises very easily," Wilson reminded him, smiling.

"I don't mind sleeping. As long as I can watch TV in between," House said.

Wilson stretched on the couch where he was sitting. "Have you heard from Stacy?" Wilson asked.

"Yeah, she called and wanted to meet with me to clear some things up. I told her I was taking a cruise for a few weeks. Works out good that way." Wilson knew exactly what House meant. Dealing with his problems was a lot harder than walking away from them. Especially for House.

"By the way, Wilson I need more meds again." House thought he'd throw that in there.

"House…" Wilson knew he needed to address the issue with his medication. "I just picked some up for you last week," Wilson said softly, sitting forward. "How many have you been taking?"

"My leg's been worse Wilson. I need them to control the pain." House was sure that Wilson wasn't going to give him more without an explanation.

"I just want to make sure that you're not hurting yourself Greg. There's other ways of controlling the pain," Wilson told him.

"Yeah, like the therapy that you mentioned. Talk it out. Maybe if I tell a bunch of guys like me how bad this damn thing hurts it will make it feel better." House knew he was getting agitated all the while Wilson didn't agree with him.

"It can't hurt House," Wilson told him. "I can help you work through when it gets painful. If you learn to manage it and become aware of when the pain is at its worst then you can try other methods first. Then instead of getting more meds you could either stay where you are at or decrease it."

House knew very well that Wilson was right. Stubborn as the day is long though, he didn't want to give up the fight. "I'll have my people call your people and we'll set something up."

"House, I just don't want to see you become addicted. Especially since I am the one prescribing this for you. I can't just blindly write these things out for you without the proper examination. And since we are dealing with powerful medication that is why I need you to be honest with me."

"Fine, Wilson," House began. "I approached Cuddy about my true love for her and she turned me down. The meds are helping me deal with it. Just wish those dreams about her would stop."

"House…you are…." Wilson wanted to say unattainable but he decided to let it go for the moment.

They sat watching the TV for several minutes. Wilson sat quietly and then wanted to let House in on what was happening that evening.

"Julie wants to see me," Wilson began, looking at the floor.

House looked away from the TV to his friend, sipping his coffee. "Are you sure you are up to this?"

Wilson laughed. "Am I up for this or do I want to do this? I know I need to talk with her but I'm just not looking forward to it." Wilson sat back at the couch and looked at his friend. "House, your hands are shaking again." He stood up and walked over to him. House got up and walked away from him.

"Greg! Don't walk away…tell me what is going on," Wilson demanded.

House slammed his coffee mug on the counter and shattered it. "Dammit Wilson, why do you have to be so concerned about me? You need to take care of yourself!"

"Greg, you hand is bleeding," Wilson said calmly, walking closer to him holding out his hand.

"I'm FINE," House screamed, moving further away.

"Greg…stop." Wilson was trying to calm him down. He tried to put a hand on House's shoulder to stop him, but only to be shoved away.

"Please, leave me alone," House requested.

That made Wilson stop in his tracks. "I was just trying to help you, House. Why won't you let me?"

House put a hand to his head in exasperation. He looked at his hand and then shifted his eyes to Wilson. "The cuts are superficial. It's fine."

"Okay, maybe the cuts are fine but you aren't," Wilson responded calmly.

"Wilson, please, I want to be alone right now. And you need to go see Julie anyway," House told Wilson, making sure he did not make eye contact.

"I don't want to leave you alone right now, Greg," Wilson said quietly. "I know you are not okay. I don't care what you tell me."

"We can talk when you get back," House told him, finally looking him in the eyes.

"You keep your phone in your hand House," Wilson demanded. "If you, at all, need to get a hold of me, call me and I will be right here. That is the only way I will leave you right now is if you promise me that."

"Fine." Using his cane, House limped over to the kitchen and started cleaning up the broken glass.

"Here, let me do that," Wilson told him.

"No, I got it. It's my fault anyway," House said.

Wilson bent over and started picking up the broken glass anyway. After all the pieces were in the garbage, he put his hand on House's arm.

"We will talk when I get back, okay?" Wilson really didn't feel comfortable leaving his friend right now. But he knew the more he forced the issue the more that he would push his friend away. His eyes were full of sorrow and all he wanted to do was to let him know that he was there for him.

House nodded his head but looking away from Wilson. He knew Wilson was right. He couldn't keep going on like this. But he needed to be alone to collect his thoughts.

Depth of the soul

Trying to believe

Sacred love

Pour down

Until we meet again.