PART III

House felt as if he had just been punched in the stomach. His best friend…. his only friend in the world had just told him that he wanted to leave Princeton and move to Los Angeles to get away from him. Why? He couldn't for the life of him understand. Wilson had never let on that he had a problem with House…. they had always spent a lot of time together, before and after Wilson's marriage had ended. It's true that they never discussed their feelings, but they were extremely close, they enjoyed each other's company…. at least House thought so until tonight. And Wilson had said that he felt this way before the shooting; if he had said he felt this way afterwards, there might be a logical reason…. logical in Wilson's mind anyway…. that would explain why he might want to leave. But Wilson distinctly said that House was the reason he wanted to leave...why…why…why? In those few moments after Wilson had said those words to him, House had tried frantically to come up with a reason…something… to explain it all.

House looked up from the floor and noticed that Wilson was looking at him questioningly.

"What do you want me to say?" House asked sadly.

"I just want you to answer my question."

"You asked me something?"

"I asked you why you spend so much time with me."

House felt himself becoming angry. "Wait a minute. You just told me that you want to move to the other side of the country to get away from me. And then you ask me why I spend so much time with you? Are you fucking nuts? You should be the one explaining, not the one asking the questions," he spat.

Wilson sighed deeply. "Okay, I guess I deserved that," he said as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, staring at the floor. After a few seconds, he looked up at House and leaned back on the couch. "You and I are friends… and we've been pretty close for a really long time. We've seen each other through a lot…."

"I don't need a recap of our lives," House interjected angrily. "Just tell me what the fuck is going on." As he spoke, he felt a stab of pain in his leg and realized that it had been hurting for the past 15 minutes. He grabbed the Vicodin bottle off the end table and quickly swallowed one.

"If you'll just shut up for a minute, I will!" Wilson barked back. He took a deep breath and after a few moments continued to talk more calmly. "I told you that after Julie left I spent a lot of time going over things in my head, trying to figure everything out. Well, I finally did, and it wasn't exactly what I had expected."

He looked up at House who was nodding, urging Wilson to continue. "Look, House, you know I like women…. I love women…. I love having sex with women, but when it comes to emotional attachment and a making a true commitment, well, I guess I've never really been able to do that with a woman. Which is obvious by the amount of times I've been married. It took some time and fighting the denial, but I finally understood what was going on with me."

Wilson glanced at House and quickly turned his gaze to the floor. "I started thinking about you and me and all the time we spend together, how I feel when I'm with you, how I feel when I'm not with you. I…. I realized that you're the only person in my life that I was ever truly committed to. I needed you in my life and I started to feel…and believe me, this scared the Hell out of me…. I started to feel that I needed to…that I wanted to…. to be intimate with you." Wilson stopped talking and felt his face getting hot, turning red. He leaned forward and covered his face with his hands. He had never felt so vulnerable in his life.

House didn't know what to say. This had been a night of stunning revelations that had already exhausted him and now Wilson had hit him with this. He wanted to help Wilson, but he wasn't sure he could, especially after what Wilson had just said to him. So, he did his best.

"Why didn't you talk to me about this?" he asked quietly.

Wilson took his hands away from his face and looked up at House. "You're kidding, right? You think it would've been easy for me to walk up to you and tell you this? You would've punched me in the face," he said, laughing bitterly.

"Don't tell me what I would've done."

"Okay, that's fair," Wilson said. "So, I'm talking to you about it now."

"And what exactly are you telling me, James? That you think I'm your soul mate and you figured I wouldn't understand so that's why you want to leave?"

Wilson looked at House through narrowed eyes. "God, House, you can be a real bastard sometimes," he said. After sitting quietly for a moment he looked up as if he had come to a decision. "This is a mistake." He stood and walked towards the door. "I'm sorry I said anything, just forget it." He reached for the doorknob.

"James! You're not going to do this to me. You're not going to drop this bombshell and then walk away. You owe me this much." House shouted angrily.

Wilson stopped, placing his hands on his hips and staring at the door. After a few moments, he turned around and looked at House. Their eyes met and Wilson nodded slightly as he walked back to the couch and sat back down.

House sighed. "I don't mean to sound cruel, James. I just don't understand why you'd leave over something like this," he said questioningly.

Wilson looked incredulous. "Did you hear what I just told you? I said I wanted to sleep with you!"

"You forget, Dr. Wilson, that I'm not the one who has the reputation of being a skirt chaser. So, if you thought I'd be furious, you're very much mistaken."

Wilson was confused. "So…so what are you saying? You're not shocked by what I just told you? You feel the same way?"

"Well, no, I am shocked, but only because I never expected to hear something like this from you, Dr. Panty Peeler. As far as the way I feel, we're talking about you now."

Wilson scowled at House. He felt House was being his usual difficult self and this was not the time. He was baring his soul to House and was angry at his flippant remarks. He contemplated getting up and walking out again, but then he saw House's face soften.

"You said you decided to leave after the shooting" House said quietly. "Why?

Wilson rubbed the back of his neck. "I'm sure you know that my recovery was the hardest thing I've ever gone through in my life," he said quietly. "When I was getting better, you were there all the time, everyday, helping me get through this thing; I wanted you there so badly, but I also wanted you to leave and just let me recover by myself. I knew that having you there all the time wasn't helping me deal with my feelings. They got worse…. or stronger, I guess…. and I pretty much went over the edge as far as you were concerned. I knew I couldn't stay here and have you in my life the way it's always been. I'd only be fooling myself; I'd never be happy. I didn't want to live my life that way."

Wilson stopped talking and thought for a moment. "I didn't know how I was going to tell you that I was leaving, and I certainly didn't want to go into why…. but then tonight, when you started talking about the shooting, I don't know, I couldn't hold it in anymore."

Both men were silent, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Wilson realized that he had to finish what he had started.

"So, now you know everything," he said almost in a whisper.

"When did you plan on leaving?" House asked.

Wilson looked up at him, struck by the finality of that question. "I…I guess I'll tell Cuddy on Monday…. I'll give her a month's notice so…"

"What if I asked you to stay?"

"You can't do that."

"And why not?"

"House, I just told you that I can't stay here with things being the way they've always been…."

"So, we'll make a change," House said quietly.

"Do you know what you're saying?" Wilson asked, a surprised look on his face.

"I know perfectly well what I'm saying."

Wilson looked away. No…he couldn't expect House to do this. This was too much to ask of a friend. Suddenly he felt ashamed and couldn't bring himself to look at House. He stood up abruptly and walked quickly into the bedroom.

House grabbed his cane from the side of the chair and got to his feet as quickly as he could. He steadied himself and followed Wilson into the bedroom. He found him gathering all his belongings and tossing them onto the bed.

"What are you doing?" House asked, even though he knew the answer.

"What does it look like I'm doing? I'm leaving," Wilson replied tersely.

"Well, stop it."

"No, you stop it!"

"I'm not the one who's packing everything."

Wilson dropped what was in his hands and stood looking at the floor. He sat down on the edge of the bed, leaning his elbows on his knees and resting his head in his hands. He shook his head. "I don't know what to do anymore," he whispered.

House walked over and sat down next to him, laying his cane on the floor. He put his arm around Wilson's shoulder and pulled him closer.

"House, what are you doing?" Wilson asked, afraid to look at him.

"I'm comforting you," House replied. "Am I doing it wrong?"

"No, actually, you're doing it quite well."

House rested his hand on Wilson's shoulder. "Look, James, I certainly don't know what's going to happen, but I do know what I don't want to happen. And that's for you to leave. I want you to say. Please stay."

Wilson pulled away from House and stood to face him, his hands on his hips. "Why, House? Why would you want me stay? I told you that I need you in my life, that I want to commit to you, that I want more than a friendship. Unless you can say the same to me, there's no reason for me to stay." Wilson rubbed his tired eyes, still red from crying earlier that evening. "I don't expect anything from you; that's why I'm leaving."

House patted his hand on the bed. "Come over here and sit down," he said quietly. A look of hesitancy came over Wilson's dark eyes as they slowly moved from House's hand to his penetrating blue eyes. "Come on…. I'm not going to bite you," House said, a hint of a smile on his lips. "Unless of course you want me to."

Wilson did as he was told, sitting down on the bed next to House, his eyes focused on the floor. "I want you to stay because you're the only person in the world that I care about," House said.

Wilson smiled sadly as he shook his head. "Yes, Dr. House, I know you care about me. But that doesn't mean you want everything else…."

"Look, James, you told me that you had a lot of time to think about this and that it took you some time to understand your feelings. Now I'm asking you to do the same for me. I told you that I want you to stay, even though there are times when you could be a real pain in the ass. So give me some time. Will you just do that for me, please?"

Wilson looked at House and saw the sincerity in his eyes. "I guess I can do that, although after that pain in the ass remark, I'm not so sure I want to." He smiled. "Do you think we can work this out?"

House brushed a piece of stray hair from Wilson's forehead, then lightly caressed his cheek with the back of his fingers. "Well, I'm willing to give it try if you are," he said.

Wilson genuinely smiled at House's words. They both sat quietly for a moment, then Wilson let out a short laugh.

"What?" House asked.

"Can you imagine what your staff and Cuddy would say if they…"

"Forget about them" House said. "We're talking about us now."