Author's Note – Thank you, thank you for all the reviews & suggestions. I look forward to them! Lots of angst/hurt/comfort in this and the next coming chapters. More HouseWilson friendship/hardship as well as explanations. Enjoy!

Chapter 14

I care about the clouds

Seemingly drawing around the shadow

You touch my hand

My heart

Until we meet again

House sat on his couch with his cane in his hand, head down. He tapped it on the floor as he looked forward. Why doesn't he leave me alone? Why does he care so much? Tapping faster, he stood up and paced. Don't do it. Call him instead.

House looked down and noticed himself that his hands were shaking. Trying fervently to diminish the sweat that was pouring off his forehead. Searching in vain for a way to ease his pain. Limping over to the cabinet, he grabbed the bottle of scotch. Staring at it, examining every fiber of its nature, almost personifying its existence. Putting it back down, he started pacing again, stumbling over his feet. Stopping, staring, he limped back. Opening the bottle, he bypassed the glass and drank. Drinking directly from the bottle that he needed so badly. Bringing the bottle to his mouth was like bringing life to his body. He needed to be loved.

I love.

The taste brought back the sadness, brought joy, he needed to release.

Release from your heart.

Feeling the warmth drain from his mouth to his body, he felt free. Sorrow beheld like a passion of time. Warm yourself in my arms. Feel me, touch me, satisfy the anger that holds the key to myself.

Take my hand

Sitting back down, embellishing the anguish that succumbed him. Bring to my lips the song of sorrow.

Talk with me

Tell me how

I need you

Tell me how

I love you

Until we meet again

-----------------------------------------------

Wilson opened the door to House's apartment and put down his coat and keys. He made his way over to the kitchen and sat down at the table. Still numb from the conversation with Julie, he folded his hands and stared at them.

He heard the door from House's bedroom quietly open. I really don't feel like talking, Wilson thought.

"Hey," House said softly. He stretched his back and limped to the kitchen. "I heard you come in." House, wearing sweatpants and a T-shirt, opened the fridge and grabbed two bottles of water, and then made his way over to the table to sit with Wilson.

"Thanks," Wilson said, taking one of the bottles. "I'm sorry I woke you."

"So I miss some beauty sleep. I'm sure Cameron will get over it." House began as he opened his water. "How'd it go?" House didn't like the look on his friend's face. If she even hurt him at all, he thought. So many times have gone by that he has been hurt and it's not anything he concerns himself with. But seeing Wilson hurt; that was painful.

"Not good," Wilson said, managing to smile softly. He kept his eyes focused on his bottle of water. He didn't want to look at House. Wilson knew the moment he looked at his concerned eyes he would break down.

House saw his anguish. His friend needed him. "Do you want to talk about it?" House asked, looking directly at him. Damn you Julie. Why him? What did he ever do?

Wilson just shook his head, biting his nail. He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. The more he thought, the worse his head throbbed. Wilson wished he could just go to sleep and forget this day.

"Another headache?" House asked, looking at him.

Wilson nodded, looking away. Just let me go to bed, he thought.

"James….what is it?" House asked. He knew his friend was holding everything inside.

"Greg," Wilson started as his voice began to shake, "I don't know how….why she….I…." He couldn't finish his sentence and yet couldn't hold it back. His eyes filled with tears. His head pounded.

House stood up and walked quickly to his friend. "James….talk to me." Wilson's body was shaking as he began sobbing. House grabbed his shoulders and concentrated everything he had on Wilson.

"She had an affair….she lied to me, cheated on me….," Wilson said throughout sobbing. House knelt at his level, ignoring the piercing pain penetrating throughout his leg. "She's pregnant House, and I've," Wilson laughed between sobs, "I've been here more than I've been there. What does that tell you?" House reached over and wiped away the tears streaming down his face. Wilson held his head as it pounded worse. "Damn headache," Wilson said as he rubbed his head.

"Wilson, let me get your meds for that…stay here," House instructed as he walked over to the counter and got Wilson's ibuprofen.

Wilson looked at House confused. "Greg…have you been drinking?" Wilson could smell the alcohol on his breath.

House looked at the medication bottle as he limped back to the table. "Yeah." House didn't want to make a big deal about it.

"Were you okay? Why didn't you call me?" Wilson asked wiping the remainder of the tears that soaked his face away.

House knew he couldn't get him to back off this time. "It got me Wilson," he laughed as he sat down. "The fucking bastard got me."

Wilson looked at him concernedly. "What is it?" Wilson said softly.

"Wilson! Man, you have enough to worry about right now, okay? Would you please start worrying about you and less about me! Look at all you have going on in your life right now. It's no wonder you are so stressed. You don't need that."

"Greg….this time I am not leaving until you tell me what's going on," Wilson insisted. There was an unspoken bond between the two of them that Wilson couldn't explain. Any time House was dishonest with him, he knew. Any time he was in pain, he knew.

House sat back in the chair uneasily. Pain shot through his leg as he spoke. "I've been depressed Wilson. The last few weeks…." House started as he looked away. "The booze was there. I soaked it up. For weeks I drank myself into a stupor every single night. Every morning I was off work. The minute I walked in the door, before I even sat down," House was extremely uncomfortable talking about this, but if it was going to be anyone, it would be Wilson. "I realized I couldn't go on like that." House sat forward, looking out the window. "Cameron came over one night to ask me about a case and I was so drunk I couldn't even make it to the door. I pissed on myself Wilson, I couldn't even think. That's why I missed our night out. I couldn't stop."

Wilson sat quietly, never moving his eye contact off his friend.

"Like I said I knew I couldn't go on like that. So…," House looked down at his water, "I quit. Cold turkey. Hence my breakdown. Sorry Wilson there was no sugarcoating that crap. Then tonight….tonight I fell back."

"Do you….mean to tell me…," Wilson slowly became angered, "you have been going through alcohol withdrawal and didn't bother to tell me? House! Do you know the repercussions of that without medical supervision? Especially for how heavy you had been drinking! You could have died! You're lucky that your hands shaking and periodic vomiting was the worst of it. Your heart could have…." Wilson was becoming more and more agitated as he sat forward.

"Wilson….take it easy….I know you're upset, but…" House started but was quickly interrupted.

"No! You son of a bitch! How the hell do you think I feel?" Wilson said, standing up making the chair fall as he threw the bottle of water across the room. "Can you even fathom what you have put me through? I couldn't stand seeing you like that and I… I was so helpless of your dishonesty."

"Wilson….calm down," House pleaded, putting his hand towards him.

"Don't tell me to calm down….you outright lied to me. I searched through your test results looking for something, anything and you…" Wilson started as he grabbed the table.

"James…." House took Wilson by the shoulders and looked directly in his eyes. "James you need to calm down. I'm sorry what Julie did, you have every right to be upset. And I'm sorry what I did, you have even more right to be upse…" Again, House was interrupted.

"Let go of me…" Wilson suddenly closed his eyes and held the table tighter. His breathing was becoming erratic.

"Wilson! You're having an anxiety attack…I need you to listen to me," House started, looking in his eyes. "You need to sit down," House told him, his eyes fixed on him.

"I don't want to sit down. I…" Wilson suddenly fell forward into House's arms. He screamed out in pain as he grabbed his stomach, falling to the floor. Squeezing his stomach he doubled over to his knees.

"Dammit!" House shouted. He held his friend and ignored his own stabbing pain in his leg. "Wilson…listen to me….where is the pain? James, this is important…"

All Wilson was able to do is squeeze his stomach tighter and yell in pain. House held him as he was everything that was holding him upright. Trying to ease his hand to Wilson's stomach, House quickly examined exactly where Wilson was clutching. Falling forward even further, he started vomiting again, profusely. But this time it was blood. House quickly grabbed him and pulled him down to the ground sideways so he wouldn't aspirate. He ran to the phone and tripped along the way. Dialing 911 he shouted what was going on and went back to his friend. House did a quick check of his pulse and breathing rate.

Wilson tried talking, only to say his friend's name. But the words couldn't come out.

"Wilson, don't try to talk," House insisted as he held him.

But he ignored his request. "Don't leave," Wilson whispered.

"James….I'm here…." House said softly.

-------------------------

Please let me know what you think so far!