Title: When Life Gives You Lemons

Relationships: All friendship

Rating: T/M

Warning: Nothing too bad. Mild language I guess…

Spoilers: Season 1

Disclaimer: I am not making any profit from this fan fiction, all recognizable characters belong to FOX and all of the others belong to me.

A/N: I'm leaving on Friday so you probably won't get another update until the seventh of August. I'm sorry about that. If I can get to a computer I promise I'll have chapter six up!

Chapter 5: Never Lasts

The shortest distance between two people is a smile.

Wilson fell asleep in House's car on the way to his house. It let Wilson have a twenty minute nap, but when they reached Wilson's home, House shook Wilson awake and felt bad about doing so since his friend looked so tired.

"We're at your house."

He watched Wilson open his eyes and blink a few times to clear his vision. It made him feel bad to know that James was so tired but he could go back to sleep when he was in his bed.

"Come in with me," Wilson said pitifully when he was finally awake enough to unbuckle his seatbelt and open the door. He didn't want to be alone in his house with no company when he was feeling like he'd been run over by a truck. That wasn't too far off from crashing into a wall and he wondered why he'd been stupid enough to go to work.

"Fine, but I draw the line at sleeping with you," House informed him with a smirk on his face.

"Good 'cause nobody wants that," Wilson shot at him with a smirk on his own face.

House snorted. "I don't have any clothes here," he muttered to himself but opened the car door and used his cane to help him get his balance before he got to his feet and limped into Wilson's house.

"I have plenty of your clothes," Wilson told him as he followed. "So stop complaining."

"You have plenty of my clothes?" House asked with a strange look on his face. "That's…kinda creepy."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "You would consider that to be a sexual innuendo."

"You wish, Mr. 'Come In With Me'," House muttered, giving Wilson a smile which was quickly returned.

Wilson dug his hand into his pocket for his keys and closed his eyes. "Shit, I left the keys in my lab coat; and that's back at the hospital."

House snorted and fished Wilson's spare from his key ring. "You curse like a sailor," he informed Wilson and pushed open the door.

"And you're better how?" Wilson asked, grinning a little.

"I have a more polysyllabic vocabulary," House said, trying to sound outraged.

"Especially when it comes to swear words," Wilson said dryly, walking into his house and collapsing on the couch.

"Are you hungry?" House asked, sitting down on the couch next to Wilson.

"There's some food in the fridge," Wilson replied, making himself comfortable on the couch by taking his jacket off and loosening his tie.

"I bet its Julie's food. She's into all of that soy crap," House mumbled angrily.

Wilson snorted. "If you want to pay, order something you want. Just don't make it pizza; I've had enough of an all pizza diet."

"Go eat Julie's soy cubes," House snapped. "I'll get what I want."

Wilson sighed. "Maybe I should just cook."

"You'll burn yourself," House replied. "You need to rest." He was worried about Wilson, but he thought he was doing a pretty good job at worrying and not letting on that he was worried. He hated for people to know when he cared, it made him feel slightly vulnerable.

"I'll be fine," Wilson replied, trying to smother a yawn. "Well, maybe just a small nap." He closed his eyes and House soon heard the rhythmic breathing that told him James was asleep.

House looked at his sleeping colleague and wished James had called him when he had gotten to Princeton General. Sure, he would have yelled at Wilson, but now that he hadn't been there, he was worried that James was hurt and didn't know it. It didn't sound like he'd been given an MRI and House hadn't noticed any symptoms of a concussion or any other sort of head trauma so he figured Wilson's brain was probably fine.

The wrist was the least of his concern. It sucked that Wilson would have to use his right hand but James had always been pretty good at writing with both hands and now he'd be able to improve the skill.

The only thing that really concerned House was Wilson's mental state because of Julie. He was pretty sure the car crash had happened because Wilson had been dwelling on Julie and the fact that she was moving in with the man she had been cheating on James with. If that was true, and James was depressed about Julie, he might suggest that Wilson go to a shrink or keep a journal or something. House wasn't sure; he wasn't too good with the touchy feely kind of thing.

Chastising himself for worrying too much about Wilson, House pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and hit the speed dial for his favorite Italian restaurant.

Wilson woke at eleven PM and saw that Greg had moved from the couch and was now sitting on a chair with his leg propped up, watching cartoons. "Are you kidding me?" Wilson asked, seeing that 'Garfield and Friends' was the cartoon House was watching.

"It was either this or the news and I really don't care about who is bombing who," House replied. "You need to get cable."

"I have direct TV," Wilson snapped. "It's not my fault if you can't figure out how to use it."

"I couldn't find the remote for the satellite." House grinned at Wilson who was looking heavenward with a 'Dear, God why me?' sort of look. "I got Italian if you want some."

"We sound like we're a couple," Wilson muttered.

"Stop bringing that up," House snapped. He turned the TV off and pushed himself to his feet. "Do you want food or not? I only have so much niceness to use per year and I've used five years' worth in the last eight hours."

Wilson smirked a little and got to his feet. He walked to the kitchen feeling slightly disoriented. "What did you get?" Wilson asked, opening the fridge and pulling out a brown paper bag.

"Chicken pasta," House replied. "Drink milk, not soda," he added when he saw Wilson grab a Sprite.

Wilson stared at House with a look of amusement and annoyance. "What are you, my mother?"

"It's good for your bones," House answered, a small smile on his face.

"I'm a doctor too," Wilson reminded him but took the milk out of the fridge and poured himself a glass. "I haven't had a glass of milk in the longest time," he muttered after taking a few sips.

House snickered. "Enjoy your food; I'm going to take a shower. Where can I get clothes?"

"In my room, just hunt for something," Wilson replied, putting some of the chicken pasta that House had gotten onto a plate.

"You and I don't wear the same size," House replied. "Where are the piles of my clothes you are hiding?"

"Look on the stool in the bedroom." Wilson put the food into the microwave and took another sip of milk.

"If I can't find it, I am calling you," House told him and limped off to Wilson's bedroom.

Wilson sighed and looked around the kitchen. Everything that had been Julie's was gone except for the food. He didn't see any of her kitchen trinkets around nor did he see the picture of her brother with his wife and her sister with her husband and their children. That was probably another reason Julie had gone. They didn't have any kids to keep them together and they had never really tried. His marriage to Julie had really sucked but he hadn't thought it would end so soon. They'd only been together for a few years; which, when he really thought about it, had been a long few years.

It was hard to live with someone when you weren't compatible. He loved Julie, he thought she was a really sweet woman, but he just wasn't in love with her and they didn't have a lot in common. He wasn't even sure if he'd ever actually been in love with Julie. 'Why do I even bother getting married?' he asked himself. 'It never lasts.'

He sank in to a chair and didn't hear his microwave beep. His head went in to his hands and he sat that way for a while, not hearing House come up behind him and say his name. It wasn't until House put a hand on his back that Wilson stopped wallowing in self pity enough to look up at him.

"Your food's done," House said. He wasn't sure what to say to Wilson. Sure, he'd been there for the decline of the first two marriages, but he'd never really been around for when Wilson broke down. He'd seen Wilson cry plenty of times, but most of them had been when they were at House's apartment and were drunk or half-asleep.

Wilson let his head fall in to his arms and House winced when he heard the hard smack of Wilson hitting his head against his cast. "Ow," Wilson moaned. "That hurt."

"Casts take some getting used to," House said, trying not to laugh.

"Thanks, I didn't know that," Wilson said dryly, lifting his head from his arm. "Weren't you going to take a shower?"

"I did," House replied. "You've been sitting there, crying, for the last half hour." He looked at Wilson intently, wondering if his prickly friendship would be enough to help Wilson through the third divorce.

The first divorce had been Wilson's fault, but he had been only twenty eight and fresh out of med school. House knew Wilson had cheated on Katie after they'd been married only seven or eight months; the divorce had come three months later and the marriage hadn't even lasted a year. The second divorce, House knew Wilson blamed himself for too even though it hadn't all been his fault. Emma had messed up too.

Wilson had blamed his youth when the marriage to Katie had ended. But Emma, Wilson had told House, Emma would be different. He had been thirty when he and Emma had gotten married and he'd had a good job at one of the other hospitals in the Princeton area to keep them comfortable. However, four months in to the marriage, he had received the job at Princeton-Plainsboro in the oncology department. Since House worked at PPTH and House was his best friend, Wilson started to spend more time at work and less with his wife. After three months, Emma had started to complain about how he was never around so Wilson had tried to be there for her and found that he couldn't stand her much anymore. They stopped sleeping together and soon Wilson was trying to ignore her.

The couple had grown apart once Wilson had started working at Princeton-Plainsboro and after another month, Wilson was made head of the department (the position he had been promised when he had first moved to the hospital) and soon was put on the board. That caused him to spend more time at work, and less with Emma. It was only a month after he had made head of oncology when House had his infarction. As soon as Wilson learned of the infarction, he was at the hospital more often than he normally was; which caused Emma distress and resulted in her cheating on him and getting pregnant with another guy's kid. Once the pregnancy had happened, Wilson filed for divorce and left her.

During the infarction, Wilson had been too worried about House to do much serious dating. But after a few years, Wilson's brother had decided James needed to get back out there and set him up with a few girls. Julie had been James's favorite and after they had been dating for seven months, they had married. House had accused him of moving too fast; 'After all,' he had said, 'look how your other marriages turned out and you did a similar thing in both of them.'

Dating Julie had been good for Wilson, but the marriage probably hadn't been the greatest idea. James had still been worrying about House even though it had been nearly four years since the infarction when he and Julie had started seeing each other.

It seemed to House that Wilson would date people only to keep himself occupied. It wasn't that he hadn't loved his wives it was more that he wasn't in love with them. There was a difference between love and being in love and Wilson just didn't seem to know the difference.

"Greg."

Wilson's voice broke through House's thoughts.

"Greg, are you okay?" Wilson asked. He had noticed House looking dazed and he wasn't too sure why.

"Yeah," House answered. He looked at Wilson who had retrieved his food from the microwave and was eating it. "I hope you didn't put the Styrofoam in the microwave because it isn't good for you."

"No, I used a plate." He paused, realizing that House had said yet another thing about his health. "What is with you?" Wilson demanded. "You've been acting like a parent. You're taking care of me and telling me to drink milk instead of soda. I'm an adult; I know how to take care of myself! You're not that much older than I am; only six years or so."

House snorted. "You're getting a dose of your own medicine. You always act like that."

Wilson glowered. "I'm not as bossy as you are though. You cluck like a mother hen. If I didn't know any better I'd say you were worried about me."

"I am worried," House snapped. "I'm worried you're going to crash again and kill yourself over Julie."

"Well, at least you care," Wilson muttered and took a bite of his food "Yuck, it's cold."

"It sat in there for a while," House pointed out, waking back to the living room so that he could rest. "Pop it back in the microwave," he called and collapsed on the couch, mentally exhausted and physically drained. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his Vicodin; shaking one into his hand, he tossed it in his mouth to ease the pain in his leg, not really caring that it was an hour until he was supposed to take another one.

Wilson, deciding he wasn't as hungry as he had thought he was, pushed the full plate of food away from him and got up from the table. 'I'll clean it up later,' he told himself.

His wrist was hurting a little, as was the rest of his body, so he took an Advil before leaving the kitchen and heading to his room while thoroughly ignoring House who was watching more cartoons. Once in his room, he pulled out some clothes to sleep in and put them on, figuring he could just shower in the morning since he'd taken a shower only a few hours before.

It was harder to change into his clothes without of the use of his left hand, and he managed to whack himself in the face a few times. Cursing himself for crashing his car and breaking his wrist, Wilson stalked back out to the living room and sat down on a chair. "There has to be something on worth watching," Wilson said after a few minutes of sitting angrily in the chair.

House looked up at Wilson and cocked an eyebrow. "You're friendly."

"Shut up," Wilson snapped, crunching himself into his chair looking quite irritated.

House bit his tongue from saying something sarcastic and instead asked, "What's wrong?"

Wilson ran a hand through his hair and looked at House sheepishly. "I am such an idiot."

'I could have told you that,' House nearly said but stopped just before the words came out. "About the car?"

"Not just about the car," Wilson admitted, "but about Julie too. Hell, I'm an idiot in all of my marriages. Like I've said before, the only thing I've got going for me is my job and our screwed up friendship." He looked at House again, this time his eyes weren't full of self pity and tears: they were full of exhaustion and regret. "Damn it, I don't want to go through this again."

House didn't know what to say to Wilson, he didn't even know how to respond. All he could say was, "I'm sorry."

Wilson chuckled. "Thanks." He sighed. "You want a drink?"

"Should you be drinking?" House asked feeling concerned. Wilson didn't seem stable enough to handle a nonalcoholic beer let alone scotch or any other kind of hard alcohol.

"Shit, Greg, what is with you today?" Wilson sounded on the verge of hysterics and House was beginning to worry about his friend. "What happened to the ass hole you normally are?"

House would have taken more offense at Wilson's words if his friend hadn't been on the verge of screaming. "I'm worried."

"About me?" Wilson gave a harsh laugh. "That's something new. You never seemed to care before. I invite myself to do things with you."

House winced slightly at Wilson's words. It reminded him about what Stacy had told him about how he was the one for her but he didn't give her the time, whereas Mark made room for her. Wilson's words were true and so were Stacy's. He wasn't the greatest friend or the easiest person to get along with, and it was true that he wasn't always there when he was needed, but it wasn't true that he didn't care.

Wilson saw the wince just as he saw the look of hurt that crossed House's face. "Oh, I'm sorry, Greg, I didn't mean…"

"Yeah," House said with a small sigh, "you did; and you're right."

Wilson smiled slightly and put his legs down from the chair.

House looked over at Wilson. "I'm a shitty friend, I'm sorry."

"Are you high?" Wilson asked skeptically. "Are you on something I don't know about?"

"Yeah, Foreman got it for me on the streets," House replied sarcastically. "It's the real deal, not this watered down stuff we get at the hospital."

Wilson snickered a little. "So you're drunk?" He looked over at his liquor cabinet which was still locked up. "Bring your own?"

House stuck his tongue out but quickly sobered. "I meant it," he said, meaning that he wasn't the greatest friend, not that Foreman bought him drugs or that he was drunk.

"I know," Wilson replied and looked at the TV. He watched House out of the corner of his eyes and smiled a little. Greg almost never admitted that he cared about people so for him to apologize made Wilson feel pretty good.

"So how'd your break your wrist?" House asked with a look of forced interest.

"I told you already," Wilson replied, rolling his eyes. "What are you really asking?" He knew there was some hidden meaning to the question.

"Why'd you crash your car into a wall?" House asked, leaning forward slightly. He was worried about James and hoped that it really had been an accident and not something caused by despair.

"It was an accident," Wilson answered with a small shrug. He saw the hesitation in House's eyes. "Oh, come on, you can't think I meant to do it. I didn't even feel it."

House's eyebrows shot up. "So you crashed your car, saw the damage, felt the pain in your wrist, and called the cops? For some reason I don't believe that."

Wilson frowned. "I don't remember. I woke up in an ambulance with paramedics."

"They didn't give you an MRI?" House asked, growing quite concerned.

"I was fine," Wilson said a little irritably. "I was responsive when I woke up and I could answer all of their questions." After a sigh he said, "I'm fine. I broke my wrist but I'm fine."

"Tell that to your car," House grumbled but let the subject drop. He wasn't going to argue with Wilson too much. He could bring it up in a day or two and in the meantime he would just watch to make sure Wilson didn't drop dead or anything. If James thought he was all right then House wasn't going to get after him too much. Divorce had to be messing with his friend's mind and it wouldn't do any good to badger Wilson when he just wanted to be let alone for a little while.

House looked over at Wilson who had his eyes closed and seemed to be trying to sleep. Sleep sounded good to House, so he grabbed one of the blankets that Wilson always had draped over the chairs and tried to sleep.

Wilson woke with a jolt and looked around him. He felt slightly disoriented, but that wasn't anything new, he often felt out of it when he first woke.

"Look out, Batman!"

The sound of Robin's voice on Cartoon Network brought him back to reality and everything rushed back at him. He remembered the fight with Julie, House trying to make him feel a little better, waking up in an ambulance, looking at the X-Ray of his wrist and seeing that it was broken, going to work after he had taken a nap, House calling him an idiot, Julie yelling at him for crashing the car, Cuddy telling him he could miss work that day if he really needed to, House taking him home, House staying over with him, and finally, he noticed House sleeping in the chair next to the couch.

He looked at the TV which had cut to a commercial for Gatorade and rolled his eyes. He swore that House did things like watch cartoons just to annoy him. Sighing, he looked over at Greg and smiled a little. It had been really nice of House to stay over with him even if all House did was taunt him. When Wilson really thought about it, the only way Greg really knew how to help people was to piss them off or taunt them. Sure James had seen the nicer side of House but it was rare for House to let on that he was concerned.

'He's worried you're hurt,' he reminded himself. 'Greg didn't hide that he was concerned too much. He wanted you to know he was upset; he wanted you to realize you might be hurt so that you don't do anything stupid.'

"Go to sleep," House snapped, his voice breaking in to Wilson's thoughts. "It's too early to be awake."

Wilson looked at the clock. "It's six in the morning."

"I go to work at ten," House grumbled.

Wilson smirked. "I go in at nine."

"Yeah? Call a cab. I'm not going any earlier than I have to."

"You said you'd drive me," Wilson reminded him. "That includes going to work in the morning."

House glared at Wilson but his eyebrows soon knit together in a concerned look. "Shouldn't you stay here? You…"

"I'm fine. I don't need to stay here and have nothing to do," Wilson replied. "I'll call Cuddy at eight to tell her I'll be late. She won't care."

"I think she likes you," House taunted.

"More than you perhaps," Wilson said with a grin.

"Nah, she loves me; she just doesn't show it. You know; doesn't want the nurses to have too much to gossip about. It's why we…"

Wilson was laughing and shaking his head. "Just stop, I don't want to hear anymore. I'll get some weird picture in my head and then you'll just build up on it. I don't even want to know your strange urges involving Cuddy."

"Touché," House said with mock approval. His face took on a sudden thoughtful look. "You would get a disturbing picture of me and Cuddy in your head."

Wilson sputtered. "Only because you put it there."

House rolled his eyes. "You're still the one who would picture it."

"You need help," Wilson said, shaking his head.

"That's the pot calling the kettle black," House snapped.

"You know people consider you to be insensitive and sarcastic," Wilson said with a grin.

"I'm not sarcastic, I just point out the obvious," House replied dryly.

Wilson shook his head and smiled at House.

House smiled back.

Reviewer Responses:

Ivory Novelist: I'm happy you thought the last chapter was fluffy but this was the fluffy chapter I was thinking of. I hope you like this one because this is my favorite of the seven I have written so far. (Yeah, I'm a little ahead) I love House/Wilson friendship too. It is my favorite thing to read and there is so little of it out there! Everyone focuses on House/Cameron, which isn't a bad thing, but I MUCH prefer to read House/Wilson fics. Thanks for being nice to me, it was sweet. I'm always depressed (it just depends on how bad the day was). Clinical depression sucks and now school is about to start so…you know. Well, thanks for you review in the last chapter; it meant a lot to me. I hope you like this one too! Oh, one more thing, please update your House fic "Cotton Candy Baby" when you have time. It's really good!

Forgottengargoyle: Thanks for the praise! I am so happy you think I've got the personality down. I'm really trying and every time I see the show I try to see if he'd say some of the things I've written. I think so. I think you'll like seeing House comforting Wilson. It probably won't be a physical injury (for the most part) but I'm not saying anymore:zips lips shut: You'll just have to read to find out what happens. Don't worry; I will definitely continue writing House fics so I might take you up on your idea. I loved the review and I especially enjoyed learning I am on author alert!

P.S. I like the chapter titles too!

Jennamajig: I thought that a House comforting Wilson as well as he could fic would be a good idea and I'm happy you think so. I totally agree that the characters are complex and that Wilson is just as complex as House. It seems that there is a lot going on in his life and he's got to have a back story so I think he's interesting to write about. Wilson has his own problems just like House does. Thanks for reading and reviewing, I love hearing what people think.

Please read and review everyone!