A/N: This is a random drabble. No slash intended. Please read and review. Thanks.
If you can, listen to "Wish You Were Here" by Pink Floyd, while reading this.
Thinking Against the Stars
Wilson wanders out onto the balcony around eight, no longer able to ignore that House still hasn't left. The diagnostician is leaning on his cane and facing the night, wind kissing his eyelids.
"Hey," says Wilson.
House comes out of his thoughts.
"Hi."
"What are you doing out here?"
"Thinking." And House closes his eyes again. Wilson waits for a moment, until the silence is too awkward.
"You want to go get dinner or something?"
"Not hungry."
Wilson furrows his brow. "Okay – a beer?"
House tilts his head. "Why am I the way I am?"
And Wilson is silent. "Uh," he says, after a while.
"That's not very helpful," says House, rocking back and forth a little.
"What do you mean?" Wilson asks.
"I mean what I say. Why am I the way I am?"
"You expect me to know?"
"You're Wilson. You know everything."
But Wilson doesn't know this time. He looks at his shoes. "You're okay, you know."
"As if that's an answer," House comments. He pops his eyes open after a minute. "So about that beer..."
He turns away and limps inside, knowing Wilson will follow. The oncologist closes his eyes for a moment and tries to see what House sees. He just feels the wind blowing kisses through his hair. He opens up to the stars again and sighs. He leaves them for House.