Eep! So sorry that it has been so long since I updated! Been a real hectic week and I haven't felt like typing much.

The kitten cuteness will be back in full force next chapter!

Notes, disclaimer, etc are all in chapter 1, if I remember correctly.

Chapter 10

"Congratulations! I heard the news!" House says, entering the room with Wilson on his shoulder. "You can finally use the little boys room all by yourself!"

"A little louder, I don't think the patients down the hall heard you."

"It will give them something to work towards."

Wilson rolls his eyes. Then he bites his lip.

"What's wrong?"

"What makes you think something is wrong?" He not-so-casually scratches at the edge of the bandage on his arm.

House crosses his arms. And stares.

Wilson does his best to ignore him…for all of 10 seconds. With a grumble, he pushes the covers away and slowly sits up.

"Don't leave on my account."

"Don't flatter yourself. Bathroom." As he stands, Wilson leaps down from House's shoulder and tumbles on the bed, curling up in the warm vacated spot.

House stands next to him and offers a hand to help Wilson to his feet, which he accepts. "Ears pop with the change in elevation?" House asks when Wilson seems unsteady.

"Something like that." He looks across the room at the tiny bathroom. "Who designed this place and put the bathroom way over there?"

"Blame our decorator who put the bed way over here."

Wilson takes a few careful steps. Once he is sure that he wasn't going to topple over, he lets go of House's shoulder and walks on his own.

House starts to follow him into the bathroom, but is shoved away and the door is closed in his face. "That was rude," he says to his kitten, who is cuddled on the bed ignoring everything.

Shortly after the bathroom accomplishment, Wilson is able to return home. To the wife he barely even knows.

00000

The next morning over breakfast, Wilson turns to Julie. "Why don't you like House?" He knows it is rude, but he really wants to know and can find no delicate way to ask.

The spatula that Julie had been ready to wash clatters noisily into the sink. Even with amnesia his first thoughts are of House. She turns around to face him and again Wilson wants to flee. "Because all you ever want to do is talk about him," she replies icily. She wants to say more, but hesitates.

"So you hate the man because of me? There has to be more to it than just that."

"Look," she sighs. "I have tried to be friends with him, but men like that have no friends."

"Except for me."

"Exactly," she over exaggerates a nod.

"And this proves your point, how?"

"Because of him you have no friends either. And, while you may be his friend, he is not yours."

"I've known him since med school!"

A flash of an uncomfortable young man sitting alone at a table. Others mill about, most at least 5 years older. Some glance his direction and whisper to their friends. How could someone who looks like he is 15 make it in the doctoring world?

Jimmy Wilson is 20. He curses the same face that got him into movies at half price until just recently. If his fellow doctors wouldn't take him seriously, would the patients? He pushes his food around on the tray, eating it is far from his thoughts.

A lunch tray is set down from a few inches too high. The man who dropped it seems not to care about the noise as he sits down in front of it. "People are idiots," he says.

Jimmy looks up at him, not sure if he is being talked to or not. He recalls seeing the man around a few times this past week. He had also heard whispers, the word 'brilliant' often among them. "Excuse me?"

"People are idiots," he repeats. "Present selves included."

Jimmy rests an elbow on the table, fist against his cheek. He motions with the other hand for the man to continue.

"You're an idiot for letting the little bastards discourage you from doing what you want to do."

"They aren't discouraging me."

"Right."

"Right. And you?"

"I'm an idiot for spending part of my hour lunch here amongst all these idiots when I can be across the street eating at this nice little diner that serves decent food." At that, he stands and leaves as quickly as he arrived, his untouched lunch tray left behind.

Wilson opens his eyes, the memory gone. And so is Julie.