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: This chapter is pretty much pointless and I'm sorry about that. The only really important part is the end and that sets up the next chapter. I know I said I wouldn't update for a while but I really wanted to get this chapter out before I leave tomorrow. I hope you guys like it, please review! Responses at the end.

Chapter 6: Again

Everybody's got their problems
Everybody says the same thing to you
It's just a matter how you solve them
And knowing how to change the things you've been through
I fear I've come to realize
How fast life can be compromised
Stand back to see what's going on
I can't believe this happened to you,
this happened to you

-Sum 41

"You probably should stay home," House said, concern in his voice. He was noticing how tired James looked and for once really thought it was best if he expressed how worried he was.

"I know how to look after myself," Wilson replied coolly. He was growing quite annoyed with House. He decided that if he had to deal much more with House telling him what to do, he might scream. "You don't need to look out for me, I'll be fine." He sighed, deciding against the screaming. "You want some coffee?"

"No, I'll wait until we get to the hospital and just drink some of what Cameron makes," House replied. "Her coffee is good."

"Okay," Wilson replied, pushing himself in to a sitting position. He groaned when he sat up. "Remind me not to fall asleep in such a weird position again. I hurt in places I swear I never learned about in med school."

"Forgetting what you learned already?" House asked in a mock serious tone. "Maybe Cuddy should be alerted that you aren't fit to be the head of oncology."

Wilson snorted. He was happy that the concern House had shown before wasn't too evident and his friend was just being himself. It made him feel good to know Greg cared, but he did want to know that the normal House was still inside somewhere. "I think she'd question why you thought that. It seems to me that she'd pull you from diagnostics before she would pull me from oncology."

"I doubt it," House scoffed. "She loves me."

"She loves to hate you," Wilson muttered.

House laughed. "Hate is such a strong word."

Wilson cracked a smile and got to his feet. "I'm going to take a shower. If you need something, then, you know, just get it. And if you want to do me a favor you can clean the kitchen up."

House raised an eyebrow. "Clean the kitchen up? I got take out. What did you do; throw food at the walls in your rage?"

Wilson's eyes narrowed. "No, I just left some of the food out. Throw it away if you want; I don't care." He walked off to his bedroom for some clothes before returning to the living room. "I should probably put a bag or something over my wrist, huh?" he asked when he walked back in.

"That might be a good idea," House replied. "It'd be a little hypocritical for a doctor to ruin his cast when he knows how to take care of one."

Wilson smirked and went in to the kitchen to grab a plastic bag for his arm. When he walked back in to the living room he said, "I've got some more of your clothes in my bedroom if you're interested in a shower."

"Is there a shrine to me in there or something?" House teased. "Because if there is, I really don't mind…as creepy as it might be."

Wilson rolled his eyes, not bothering to dignify House's statement with a response, and then jogged up the stairs with his clothes to the upstairs bathroom. He didn't know why he wasn't using the bathroom that his bedroom was connected to, but he wanted to be alone. The second floor of his house had a guest bedroom, a bathroom, and what was supposed to be an office but was really just an overly large closet. He passed the two rooms and went in to the bathroom to take his shower.

He undressed quickly and turned the water on warm before getting in, just remembering to put the plastic bag on his arm. He didn't even think about jerking off – he just wasn't in the mood and his left wrist was broken with a plastic bag over it to boot.

He thought about his current situation and sighed. The divorce was really hurting him and he didn't want to deal with it again. He figured Julie would probably want some money but he wasn't sure since her boyfriend was in real estate and they made a pretty good amount of money. Besides, Julie had a pretty good job of her own and could support herself if she had to.

He was renting his house but knew that Julie wouldn't kick him out since she was living with her new boyfriend. The note she had left told him that she would be in contact and the lawyer would handle the paperwork.

He sighed and poured shampoo on his head before scrubbing in an angry way with his right hand. He hated having a broken wrist and it was only the second day!

Back to the divorce is where his mind took him. Back to Julie. He loved her, he knew that much. Or was it the idea of her? He wasn't sure. All he knew was that he was upset that she had left him and didn't want to be alone.

He didn't like to be alone.

'That's my problem,' he thought, 'I can't stand being alone. If I didn't mind it, I wouldn't be in this mess.' He sighed. 'I messed up again. Why did I mess up again?

House cleaned up the kitchen for Wilson once he decided that there was nothing else to do in the house. There were no good cartoons on and he figured he might as well clean up. He never cleaned his own house up if he could help it, but then again, he had a cleaning lady and James didn't. His thoughts turned to work and the fact that he would probably be driving Wilson around for a while. That didn't bother him too much, but he would probably suggest that James just get a new car; or at the very least a bus schedule.

He sighed and his thoughts turned to Wilson's divorce. He knew Wilson had been upstairs in the shower for the past forty minutes but House wasn't too worried. If Wilson wanted to mull over his shitty marriage and try to figure things out for himself, House wasn't going to bug him too much. James needed alone time; he always did when it came to divorce and his current wife.

House sighed and finished wiping down the counter for Wilson before he limped to James's bedroom and to change his clothes. He'd just taken a shower the night before and didn't feel like taking another one so soon. He wasn't dirty, so he didn't see any reason to get cleaned off.

When he walked in to the bedroom, he pulled out some of his clothes from the pile Wilson had sitting on a stool. He didn't ponder why his clothes were in Wilson's room or why there were so many. House had plenty of Wilson's clothes at his place so it seemed natural that James would have some at his.

After he'd changed, he walked back to the living room and flicked the TV on. He glanced at the clock and shook his head when he saw that it was seven thirty. James had been in the shower for over an hour. Even though he didn't want to admit it, House was worried that James might have done something stupid like slipped, or, if James was really depressed, hurt himself intentionally. Muttering a curse, he got up and limped over to the stairs.

"Wilson!" he called up the stairs. When he got no response he sighed and yelled, "James!"

"What?" was the reply from the bathroom. "Can't I take a shower and get dressed in peace?"

House heard the curt tone but needed to clarify that Wilson was all right. "You've been in the bathroom for a long time."

"Stop acting like my mother," Wilson snapped as he walked out of the bathroom. When he rounded the corner and started walking down the stairs he said, "Look, I'm fine. Stop acting like a stranger and act like the bad-tempered asshole you really are."

House's eyebrows shot up. Wilson rarely spoke to him like that – even when he was furious. "I cleaned your kitchen up."

"How sweet," Wilson snipped. He wasn't sure why his mood had changed so quickly, he only knew he wasn't in the mood for House to treat him like glass.

House wanted to yell at Wilson, House wanted to shake Wilson and tell him he was being an asshole, but he simply bowed his head and walked over to the couch. "Tell me when you're ready and we'll go to work."

Wilson sighed heavily and leaned against the wall. "I'm sorry. I…I just don't want to be alone."

House looked over at Wilson with surprise. He was itching to ask, 'Who are you and what have you done with James Wilson?' but he managed to keep it to himself and say in a caring way, "You're not alone."

"I am alone," Wilson replied, cutting off any other protest House may have made. "I don't have anything to keep me occupied when I'm not working. I told you all I have is work and our friendship, but I don't know how to handle those things anymore. I'll always be fine at work, that is a whole other world and faking happy isn't that hard. But you…" he shook his head and took a deep breath. "You won't leave me the fuck alone. I've gone through this before; I don't need you to suddenly turn in to Dr. Cameron and start treating me like I'm going to break if I fall down."

House stared at Wilson and noticed how worn out his body looked. House noticed the frustration and the anger in the way Wilson set his lips. He could see the guilt and the sadness in Wilson's eyes. But what House noticed most of all, was the pure honesty with which James spoke the words. House gathered the words he wanted to say, the words that would turn Wilson in to the person he used to be. The words that would make the suffering oncologist in to the witty friend House knew and loved. The words that came out of his mouth, however, weren't even close to what he was feeling inside:

"You're depressed."

A whisper. That's all the words were. They were a whisper, something House said with realization and sadness.

Wilson laughed in a poignant way. "I'll be fine." He looked over at the clock. "Let's go to work."

"Don't skirt," House snapped.

Wilson shot him an awful look. "For once in your life can you treat me like you treat everyone else in the world?"

"I do treat you like I treat everyone else," House muttered.

"At work? Only when you're pissed and even then you don't direct it at me. You might bitch and moan but you never really aim something at me like you do Cuddy. Sure, I'll get crap like everyone else but you still take a little interest in my life," Wilson said bitterly.

"I take an interest in everyone's life," House replied. "Now stop skirting. You know you're depressed and you're skirting it."

"If I'm depressed, what are you? You're the definition of bitterness, and I'm depressed?" Wilson asked, close to hysterics.

"I can be bitter and not be depressed," House said angrily. "I'm fine. You're the one who just admitted that you pretend to be happy."

Wilson shook his head and glared at House. "I don't want to deal with this right now. We're not touchy feely. Hell, we're guys, we're not supposed to be touchy feely."

"That doesn't mean I'm not worried about you!" House yelled. House's eyes widened when he heard what he'd just said. He looked at the floor really quickly, his hand tightening on his cane until his knuckles were white, and silently cursing himself for saying something that would probably hurt him in the long run. He'd just done what he'd tried to avoid doing since Stacy had left: he let his feelings be known.

Wilson looked at House with a shocked but appreciative look on his face. Rather than make a comment about what House had just said, Wilson reached over and patted Greg's shoulder. The gesture was all that was needed between the two friends. For Wilson to acknowledge House's admission of feelings with words would have been too much, but the simple pat said everything.

"Are you ready to go to the hospital?" House asked, taking a breath and looking at Wilson with a small smile.

"Isn't it a little early?" Wilson teased lightly. He and Greg could talk about depression later, right now was the time to cover up the emotion and try to lighten the mood.

"I thought you had to be in at nine," House replied. "Shouldn't we leave now?"

Wilson snickered. "Your wish is my command."

"Well, technically it's mine since you don't have a car to drive," House retorted, a small smile on his face as he thanked Wilson silently for not delving in to the emotion right away.

"Nit picker," Wilson said with mock annoyance.

House grinned. "It comes with the job description."

It was Wilson's turn to crack a smile. "I guess that's true." He sighed. "All right, let's get to the hospital."

"I wonder if Chase is healthy…" House said thoughtfully as they got up and walked towards the front door.

"Why? Are you going to force him to do your clinic hours?" Wilson asked with a small grin still on his face.

House smirked. "Too soon?"

"You are incorrigible," Wilson informed him with a laugh.

"He's a nark, he deserves to be tortured," House answered darkly. "That's what people do when they find a spy among them, isn't it?"

Wilson laughed and took his keys from House so that he could lock the door. "You're a drama queen."

"Am not," House protested, knowing very well that he sounded like a small child.

"I am not even going to get into that with you," Wilson told him and walked over to the Corvette.

House unlocked the doors to the car and eased himself in, making sure to hit Wilson with his cane as he got settled. "It was an accident, I swear," he said when Wilson glowered at him.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Very funny, you smartass."

House chuckled and started the car.

When the two arrived at work, they were relaxed and carrying on their normal banter. No one looked twice at them as they walked in to the elevator and pushed the button for House's floor.

"Don't you have patients?" House asked Wilson as they walked towards diagnostics.

"No," Wilson replied. "I have paperwork and some things to look over. You know, doing what the head of a department is supposed to do."

"Good thing I don't have to do that," House said loftily.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "You do, actually, but I think Foreman covers some of it and I know Cuddy ignores most of what you do."

"It doesn't seem like it," House grumbled.

Wilson laughed. "If I tried doing some of the things you get away with she would kill me."

"No," House said with his usual bite of sarcasm, "she would send you home thinking you were really sick or direct you to the psych ward thinking you have some weird disorder. Personally, I vote for psych."

"Thanks ever so," Wilson said dryly as they rounded the corner and walked in to House's office.

"Hey, don't get upset, I'm just trying to help," House said with a smirk.

"Please, don't help," Wilson teased.

"Yeah, it's a scary thing," Cuddy said, walking in to House's office. She looked at Wilson. "How's the wrist?"

"Uh…fine," Wilson replied.

"I sent for the chart from Princeton General and I want an X-Ray of my own to make sure you really are fine," Cuddy informed him.

House raised an eyebrow. "Are you his mother?"

"Are you his keeper?" Cuddy shot back. To Wilson she said, "I just want to make sure you're fine. You weren't looking too good yesterday and those scrapes on your face look infected."

"Bruised," Wilson corrected her.

Cuddy shrugged. "They're still red."

House had an evil grin on his face. "Losing your touch?"

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "Go to the clinic. I've set aside the most boring cases for you. I know you love special treatment."

House grumbled but doubled back to the elevator to head to the clinic.

Cuddy looked surprised that her orders were followed and turned to Wilson for an explanation. "That was way too easy."

"He's been weird," Wilson replied.

"Maybe having Stacy around isn't the best idea," Cuddy said thoughtfully. "He's probably feeling a little depressed."

Wilson froze. 'You idiot!' he thought. 'You stupid, stupid, idiot!' He had forgotten all about Stacy with all of his own problems. He had forgotten to ask Greg what Stacy had told him to make him upset. 'Idiot!' he screamed at himself.

Cuddy didn't seem to notice his panic because she said, "Come on, I want to get those X-Rays."

Wilson nodded and followed her dutifully; feeling like a child who had just been told his dog had been hit by a car because he had left the gate open.

Reviewer Responses:

Br1de-of-fr3ddy: You love it? Really? That makes me feel really good. Thank you so much for your wonderful praise! I love hearing such wonderful things and reviews just make my day. Thank you for reviewing I really hope I hear from you again!

Xantichoicex: HA! It's a little ironic that you picked my fic out of all of the ones out there. Heehee. Weird. Thanks for adding me to your author alert; that was really nice. I hope you continue to enjoy and review this fic. I loved yours! And yes, the buttons are pretty neat.

Flamesofthemo0n: LOL! I figured you meant mo0n and not mo0m but then again, people have some REALLY strange names on this site so I figured mo0m was some sort of joke you had with your friends. I thank you for your vote of confidence and I hope you don't take it back when you read this chapter since it was pretty fluffy. Oh well…Please review again!

Jennamajig: I thought adding some sort of back-story for Wilson's marriages had to be in the fic since we don't really know ANYTHING about them. I am sure by the second season this will all be total crap but who cares? It works now. Thank you so much for being such a great reviewer, I hope you like this chapter too!