House sat in the empty exam room for a few minutes, slowly digesting what had just happened. He was staring blankly at the floor, when Dr. Cuddy came in. He looked up at her darkly.
She held up a finger. "I heard all about it. Thank you, it must have been hard for Dr. Cameron."
House grunted. Then, squaring his jaw, he looked up into Cuddy's brilliant blue eyes. "Did it ever occur to anyone, Dr. Cuddy," he said bitterly, "that things like these are also hard on me?"
Cuddy's mouth opened slightly. This was very unlike House. She felt a pang of regret. House was, after all, human. And now Stacy is here. What a fucking mess. "I'm sorry Greg," she said softly.
He rolled his eyes at the use of his first name. "So am I Lisa," he said sharply. He stood up slowly, and took out the familiar bottle of pills. "And if you'll excuse me," he said, popping one in his mouth, "I suppose I have more patients to see."
She pursed her lips. "I gave them all to Chase and Foreman," she murmured. "You have a few hours off."
House blinked. "I'm sorry. What did you just say?"
The compassion slowly melted into annoyance. Cuddy's posture changed, she straightened up. Her eyes regained their usual sarcastic glint. "You heard me. You and Cameron have a few hours off. Don't make me regret this."
House stared at her for a few seconds. Then his eyes glinted dangerously. "Have I ever made you regret anything Cuddy?" He grinned.
She glared at him. "Keep it up and my offer will expire. Get out. Go hide somewhere. I'll see you back here at," she glanced at her watch. "1:30. Not a minute later." She fully expected a haggling session.
To her surprise, House just nodded. "1:30. Fine. Thank you Dr. Cuddy." He walked past her slender form, ignoring the look in her eyes.
A small shiver went up her spine. I'll page Wilson, she thought. She folded her hands in front of her, trying to ignore the persistent feeling of unease.
Wilson strolled casually into House's office. House was sitting at his desk, staring blankly at the monitor. Cuddy's page had arrived when he was supposed to be going over a few patient files. Wilson and Lisa Cuddy had been silently observing House's behavior ever since Mark Warner had been admitted. Cuddy was more worried about House than she would admit to herself. Wilson suspected that it was a combination of guilt from offering Stacy a job at the hospital, and listening to House's lecture on diagnostics a few weeks back. That night, after Wilson had locked his door, he had passed Cuddy's office and heard her crying softly. He never mentioned it to either of them.
"Aren't you supposed to be in the clinic?" Wilson said, smiling.
House started. Usually he heard people coming in to his office. "Nope," he said, "boss lady gave me a few hours off. And all I had to do was treat a patient. Makes it almost seem worthwhile."
Wilson raised his eyebrows. "What patient?" He sat down in his usual spot.
For an instant, something seemed to fall away, and a startling, naked emotion was revealed in House's unfathomably blue eyes. Then it was gone. "Just a pregnancy test."
Wilson continued to stare at House perplexedly. House narrowed his eyes. "Just the standard young male asshole drugging and raping his girlfriend's retarded sister." He snarled.
Wilson flinched. "Jesus Christ," he said softly.
"He wasn't around to save Becky," House muttered. "It was Cameron's patient, she called me in to confirm her diagnosis. And I got to explain it to the mother. That was fun. Excuse me ma'am, but your daughter's potential brother-in-law has been fucking her while she's asleep. That's ok though, because she's not going to understand what's going on anyway, because some asshole OB-GYN starved her brain of oxygen when she was born." House slammed his hand on the table. "Sometimes I fucking hate people."
"Sometimes?" Wilson said dryly.
House glared at him. "Cute. And then, when I tried to talk to Cameron, she walked off again."
"Jesus House, what did you expect? That's hard on anybody. She probably didn't want to talk about it."
House's eyes were blazing blue flames. "But I did James. That is the whole fucking point. I wanted to talk about it."
Wilson's gaze softened. "So talk," he said softly.
House was looking past Wilson. "What the fuck is wrong with people? He can't go and find a perfectly willing slut to screw? Her sister wasn't good in the sack? What, did she move too much?"
Wilson shook his head. "That's sick."
"It is sick. People are sick. Christ I hate this." House slammed down his hand on his desk. "I swear to God, if he had been the one to bring her in, I would have strangled the son of a bitch."
Wilson narrowed his eyes slightly. "Something tells me this goes further than just a disabled girl who was taken advantage of."
House glared at him. "What, I can't be compassionate? You're worse than Cuddy."
Wilson held both hands up in front of him, palms facing House. "I'm not saying you can't be compassionate. I'm just saying you usually aren't. I find it refreshing that you're taking an interest in your patients."
House raised his eyebrows at the word 'refreshing'. "She wasn't my patient. She was Cameron's. That's another thing. She has to grow up. Take care of things herself. I'm not always going to be here to…" his voice trailed off.
"Take care of her?" Wilson said, smiling.
"No." House scowled. "Clean up after her."
"House," Wilson cajoled, "you're going to be here a long time. Get used to it."
House crossed his arms and turned around, looking out the window. "Your point is lost on me Oprah." He muttered.
"Is this about the age difference between you and Cameron?" Wilson asked softly.
House turned around, incredulously. "Where the hell did you get that idea?"
"You just said you weren't going to be here, she needed to grow up…" Wilson replied. His brown eyes were sparkling. Ah, he thought, the thrill of the hunt.
"I have no problem with our age differences," House said impatiently. "I should be so lucky to…" He stopped, and glared at Wilson. "God damn you." House snarled.
Wilson chuckled. "So, what is stopping you from asking her out?"
"You're relentless. Like a bulldog or something!" House sighed. "It's getting old."
"It's not the only one," Wilson said smiling.
House pursed his lips. "You suck so much sometimes."
Wilson laughed. "I'm just saying. We're not getting any younger." He looked at House expectantly.
"I am. Hence the electronic gear. Every minute I play gameboy is a minute I'm younger." House said haughtily.
Wilson rolled his eyes. "Acting like a child doesn't make you one."
House sighed. "Yeah. Unfortunately Becky's mom found that out today." House flinched slightly at the memory. "What would you do?"
"Aside from castrating the perp?" Wilson asked.
"Perp? What are you watching COPS now?" House smiled wryly. "Yes. I mean with the baby, would you let your daughter carry it to term or terminate the pregnancy."
Wilson furrowed his brow in thought. "I think," he said finally, "I would use it as an opportunity to make up for any past mistakes. Assuming I was able to care for the baby, I would raise it as my child."
"A second chance…" House said thoughtfully.
"Yeah," Wilson agreed. "We could all use more of those."
House eyed Wilson skeptically. "You really, really need to lay off the Dr. Phil shit."
Wilson smiled. "I thought I was Oprah."
House rolled his eyes. "Details, details." He turned off his computer. "You're hell bent on this Cameron thing aren't you?"
Wilson shrugged. "Hell bent is a little strong. I just want to see you both happy."
House closed his eyes for a moment. "It's never going to work out." He said softly.
"You think so?" Wilson asked. "Why is that?"
House shrugged. "I'm not her type."
"And who is, Chase? Foreman? Me?"
House snorted at the last part. "Well honestly, yeah. You. Sunny Jim and Adorable Allison. You'd have beautiful brunette children, all prodigies. You're nice. I'm…"
"Curmudgeonly?" Wilson said, smiling.
House arched an eyebrow. "That makes me sound like Walter Matthau." He shook his head. "I don't need to drag her down," House said finally.
"Drag her down?" Wilson said in amazement. "Where the hell do you get this stuff. If you drag people down I'd be six feet under by now. Did it ever occur to you that she wants you just the way you are." Wilson sighed. "That's the thing you fail to realize about human nature House. People like you. Cuddy likes you. Foreman likes you, though he'd never admit it. Chase, well he thinks you're an asshole, but he likes you anyway."
"Why," House growled. "Why do people like me? I don't like them!"
Wilson rolled his eyes. "Right. You hate everybody."
"Well you're okay most of the time." House said. He closed his eyes for a minute. "Why do you care?" House said softly.
"About…" Wilson cocked his head to the side. House looked tired, and defeated.
"Me." It was one word, but it brought with it a flood of emotions.
"I told you. I have two things in life that matter. This job, and our friendship." Wilson felt a flutter of fear in his stomach. Over the years he had come to understand, or at least pretend to understand House's mind. His twisted philosophy on life was fairly straightforward. His emotional side was a mystery. And every encounter he had with House's emotions, other than anger, left him feeling incredibly inadequate.
House studied Wilson silently. "Thanks," he said softly. Then he straightened up in his chair. "So… lunch?"
"That's it? Lunch?" Wilson rolled his eyes.
He shrugged nonchalantly. "Life goes on. Oh bli dee and all that jazz."
"Fine. But you're buying this time!" Inside, Wilson was breathing a sigh of relief. Seeing Greg preoccupied like this always troubled him. House had gone through periods like this, and at the end of each episode, Wilson always thanked his lucky stars that both of them had passed unscathed. Still he couldn't shake the feeling that soon his luck was going to run out.