Sorry about the choppy nature in the middle of this but there were things in there that couldn't be put up here, unless I took this up to the M rating and even then I would still have had to cut. grins So if you want to read the whole slightly smutty lot, you'll have to go to my swordkat LJ. I think the ending will make more sense if you do.

Chapter 7

House started awake with a choked curse and gasping breath, sitting up abruptly then hissing painfully as the sudden move jarred his leg. He swiped one hand down his face then flinched and let out a muffled oath when he felt a hand touch his back.

"Greg? It's me," Wilson said a little blearily as he sat up and turned on the light. "Nightmare?"

House lay back down with a huff and flung an arm over his eyes. "Yes," he said shortly.

"What happened? Do you remember?" Wilson asked. He propped himself up on his side and started gently caressing House's chest with one hand.

House let the petting soothe him as the nightmare reverberated around his brain. This is how he'd felt each time he'd been jerked awake in the last two weeks but this was the first time he'd been able to remember what had woken him. He scowled as he let the details of the nightmare replay in his mind; he was too old to get disturbed by a mere dream.

"Greg?" Wilson said when he felt House had been silent for too long.

"Armitage won," House replied in clipped tones as he reached for his Vicodin. He quickly swallowed one before Wilson could say anything then closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, trying to relax his tense muscles, returning one arm to lie over his eyes.

Wilson was silent as he continued his light caresses. House's insomnia was starting to make some sense. He'd had a few nightmares about that possibility himself; mostly that he'd not been able to get there in time when House tried that ridiculous stunt.

"It's perfectly normal. They'll pass," he said slowly. "I've had a few like that myself."

He got a flash of blue as House moved his arm and his eyes flickered open briefly. "When?"

"You were still in hospital," Wilson replied. "Though I've had one or two since then. Probably after you've woken and gotten up in the middle of the night."

"Haven't had nightmares since I was a ki…" House's voice had started out rather petulant but was choked off with a small gasp.

Wilson frowned then he closed his eyes briefly. He remembered; for about four weeks after the surgery on his leg House had woken up screaming from nightmares. Nightmares where the leg was being amputated while he was awake and protesting that that wasn't supposed to happen; nightmares where the wrong leg was being taken and he was left in the same agony that had prompted the surgery while everyone thought it had been a success; nightmares where a grinning Stacy was slowly ripping off his injured leg. They'd had all had the same theme but had just differed in the details. Wilson knew about this because he'd often fallen asleep next to House's bed in those weeks and been woken by the other man's panicked cries. They'd never spoken about it either before or after the nightmares faded; House hadn't wanted to remember them or his reaction to them, either his panic or his savage words of explanation to Wilson as the younger man had tried to calm him down.

His gentle caresses stopped and he pulled House's arm away from his eyes, turning the older man's head so that it was facing him. House's expression was blank and unreadable.

"Your nightmares are perfectly normal," Wilson said firmly. "Both now and…then. They'll go away."

"They haven't yet," House replied, uncertainty starting to crawl into his eyes.

"They will," Wilson said. "The others did. These will as well." He paused then leaned forward and captured House's lips in a warm, gentle, soothing kiss.

House didn't respond at first then a shudder passed through him and his lips parted, inviting further exploration. Wilson took up that invitation and when he finally pulled away from his delightful exploration, the uncertainty had faded from House's eyes and had been replaced by desire.

A memory ran through Wilson's mind and his lips quirked into a wicked smile. "Now weren't you saying something earlier about needing something…lanced?"

House's breath caught momentarily and lust suddenly competed with the desire in his eyes. "Think you can help, Dr Wilson?" he said, his voice a low rasp.

A slow smile settled on Wilson's face and he sat up, his hands returning to their caressing of House's body.

"I'm very skilled," he said in a suggestive tone.

Snippity-snip. Cut for naughty, naughty behaviour. Sorry people, can't put this up here, you'll have to go to my swordkat lj to read that bit!

"That's one way to get rid of those nightmares," he murmured as he buried his face into Wilson's neck.

"I like it," Wilson replied lazily.

Silence drifted between the two of them for a while then House said quietly, "I never thanked you for what you did back then."

Wilson, who had been slowly falling asleep, suddenly found himself awake again though still definitely relaxed.

"You never needed to," he replied softly.

"Maybe," House muttered. "But thank you anyway."

Wilson bit his lip then pressed a kiss into House's hair. "You're welcome."

House wrapped himself a little further around his lover and closed his eyes. Wilson tightened his arms and took a deep breath as he felt himself slip towards sleep once again.

"Love you," he murmured sleepily.

"I know," came the whispered response as Wilson fell asleep.

House woke up the next morning to find himself alone in the bed, his leg propped up on a pillow. He could hear the shower running in the bathroom and a quick glance at the clock showed that Wilson was up early. He stretched a little lazily and rolled over onto his back, wincing at the early morning ache in his leg. He was just contemplating trying for a few more minutes sleep when his pager went off. He growled softly then leaned over and picked up the pager and the phone.

"What do you want?" he barked down the phone when it was picked up at the other end.

"Andrew Watson has started having convulsions," came Chase's voice down the phone line.

"What?" House snapped. "When?"

"This morning," Chase replied. "About five am. They lasted for about two minutes then stopped."

"Dammit," House muttered as he reached for his cane. "The neurological symptoms should be decreasing. Alright…start treating him with activated charcoal as well as the Prussian blue. Standard dosage will do. And check his scalp and skin, including his fingernails. And give the lab a kick so that we can get the results of his blood and urine thallium concentration tests. I'll be in as soon as possible."

He hung up the phone without waiting for Chase's response and got to his feet. He grabbed his Vicodin and swallowed one hastily before limping over to the bathroom and walking in.

"You better not have taken all the hot water," he said sharply as he rested his cane against the sink and opened the door of the shower and carefully got in.

"Just got in," Wilson replied with surprise. "I thought you were asleep."

"I was," House replied as he reached for the soap. "Then I woke up then Chase paged me."

"What's happened?" Wilson asked, shaking water out of his hair and licking his lips as he gazed at his lover.

"Thallium boy's having convulsions," House said shortly as he started to wash himself.

Wilson blinked. "Really? That's…not good." He paused. "You do know his name, don't you?"

House scowled. "Of course I do. It's Andrew Watson." He paused then gave an amused snort. "Thallium boy just sounds better."

Wilson laughed. "Do you want me to drive you in?" The question was a subtle way of asking whether House had taken any Vicodin.

House nodded as he began to rinse the soap off. When he got to his right thigh, he paused and looked up at Wilson who was just about to get out of the shower.

"Why did you do that?" House asked with a mix of curiousity and confusion.

Wilson blinked. "Greg," he said patiently. "Asking me to be psychic at this time of the morning is a bit much. Why did I do what?"

House's lips thinned as he stared down at his leg then he looked up. Wilson had followed his line of sight and realisation dawned.

"Okay, maybe I can be psychic," Wilson said. "Because it's part of you. Whether you and I like it or not, it's part of you. It's not what makes you, it's not your defining characteristic, it's just…part of what you are. I don't love you because of your leg. I don't love you in spite of your leg. I just love you. Gregory House, the acerbic, sarcastic, misanthropic bastard of a doctor who has a limp, a cane, a bad attitude and an addiction to Vicodin. And I'd love you if you weren't any or all of those things."

House froze at the end of this affectionate little diatribe then he brought one hand up and cupped Wilson's cheek. He swallowed hard and opened his mouth to say something but for one of the first times in his life, he was speechless.

Wilson watched for a moment then he smiled. "You mean that's what it takes to render you inarticulate. I'll have to remember that."

The comment didn't break the mood though it did ease it a little. House carefully drew Wilson towards him and kissed him, the water from the shower beating down on them both. The kiss started out gentle but quickly modulated into something fierce and possessive. House finally broke away and stared at Wilson, his expression a little wild and almost fearful.

"I…," he said in a ragged voice as though he was forcing the words out past some terrible blockage. "I…love you."

The last was said quietly, so quietly Wilson almost didn't hear it over the sound of the water that was still running down their bodies. His breath caught and he almost had to force his lungs to breathe again. A large part of him had honestly not expected House to ever be able to say those words. He'd thought that maybe his lover was too damaged by what had happened to him to ever be able to say them aloud.

Wilson gently cradled House's face in his own and let a delighted smile settle on his face. He could see that wild and fearful look start to fade as he said quietly, "I know."