A/N: I researched the medical aspects and believe that I did get it basically correct. However, please don't hold me to any procedure or diagnosis as I'm not a doctor. Please read this in the spirit of make believe.

The next chapter is very slashy.

Chapter 14

House stood by the bed staring down at his friend as he slept soundly. He and Wilson had arrived at the hospital approximately four AM and were able to receive accelerated processing thanks to Cuddy. The young doctor was in his room by four thirty, but was having a difficult time. It seemed all his symptoms converged upon him at once; confusion, disorientation, bouts of nausea and a severe headache. Classic symptoms of dehydration.

Cuddy came into the room.

"How's he doing?" she asked quietly, keeping her eyes on the patient.

"Better."

"What did Dr. Roth say?"

He shook his head. "Dr. Roth is an idiot."

"House, please, just tell me what he said."

"He said he has a concussion. Imagine that."

"And?"

"And, he's secretly had a crush on you since the Christmas party. Did you really take your bra off without removing your shirt?"

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "I know you're upset."

"I'm not upset…he'll be fine." He looked over at his friend.

Her eyes followed his and she hesitated for a moment at the sight of Wilson in a hospital bed. She turned her attention back to her problem doctor. "Then what is it?"

House sighed. "I should've brought him in earlier."

"Don't do that to yourself. It's not like it was too late."

He tapped the floor with his cane once for emphasis. "That's just it…why the hell did I wait so long? He wasn't eating, barely drinking. Every time I turned around he was puking." He rubbed his forehead. "I kept assuming it was from the concussion."

"Stop beating yourself up…they do share the same symptoms. And it's impossible to be objective when you're emotionally involved."

He looked at her. "Thank you. I feel so much better now."

"As long as he'll be alright, that's what matters." She glanced over to the oncologist one more time as she turned to leave. "I'll be back later."

House walked back to the bed and studied his friend as he slept. He noted that the contusions on his forehead and cheek were healing. The red mark on his other cheek from his wakeup slap the previous morning was almost gone. But he was thin and pale. And he was sick. House stroked his hair. "I'm sorry, Jimmy."

He glanced up to find Cameron watching him through the glass wall, their eyes meeting briefly. He turned his attention back to his friend, continuing to gently stroke his hair. When he looked through the glass wall again she was gone.

The bag from the saline drip was nearly empty so he switched it with the new one that the nurse had brought in earlier, and checked the tubing to ensure that it was working properly. As he turned to face his friend, he was pleasantly surprised to find his eyes open. He limped closer to the bed.

"Hey."

Wilson blinked a few times and turned his head in House's direction. The older doctor looked directly into his eyes. He noted a flash of uncertainty followed by recognition.

"Hey." Wilson's voice was hoarse.

"You want some water?

"Yeah, thanks."

House took the pitcher off the nightstand and poured some water into a plastic cup. Placing a straw in the cup, he brought it to Wilson's lips.

"Here, Jimmy." Wilson began drinking. "Slow down, not too fast."

"Thirsty."

As House held the straw to his friend's lips, he looked up to see Dr. Roth enter the room. "How's the patient?" he asked, smiling.

Wilson stopped drinking. "I'm fine." House put the plastic cup back on the table.

"No headache? Nausea?"

"No. Just tired."

"Good. I'm just going to ask you some questions to check your orientation and memory." Wilson nodded.

"Can you tell me what year this is?"

"Two thousand five."

"Month?"

Wilson glanced over to House who was watching him intently. He looked back at Roth. "Current month?" he asked again.

"I'm not sure."

Dr. Roth looked at House, making brief eye contact. He turned his attention back to the patient.

"Do you know where you are?"

"Hospital."

"Which one?"

"Princeton Plainsboro."

"Just a few more questions and we'll move on. Do you remember what happened to you?"

Wilson squinted his eyes as he tried to remember. He began to panic. "I can't remember."

House put his hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Jimmy. You're just a little confused."

Dr. Roth quickly went through the remainder of the exam, checking Wilson's pupils and testing for coordination, sensation and concentration. Finishing up the exam, he smiled at his patient. Your pupils look fine and your coordination and sensation are normal. You're experiencing some orientation and memory issues, which isn't abnormal for a grade three concussion. And then there's the dehydration. So, we'll just keep you here and monitor your progress." He glanced down at the chart. "How's your appetite?"

"I don't have one."

"We'll keep you on the drip for twenty-four hours, but I'd like you to try to eat something at every meal and drink throughout the day. You'll stay on the anti-emetic so you shouldn't have a problem with nausea. And you can have sumatriptan on request for your headaches." He looked up from the chart and smiled. "Do you have any questions?"

"When do you think I can get out of here?"

"That depends on your progress. It's a little early to tell if you have post concussion syndrome, but if your symptoms persist we'll have to determine their exact nature and go from there as far as treatment." He smiled broadly at both men and turned to leave.

"Thank you Dr. Full-of-Love," House said after he left the room. "How do patients put up with doctors?"

He looked at his friend lying in the hospital bed. "So, you're having a problem remembering. No big deal."

Wilson looked at him. "I didn't recognize you at first," he said, his voice cracking.

The older doctor looked down towards the floor. "It'll get better." Wilson nodded as he rubbed the back of his neck. "What happened to me?"

House shook his head. "Some asshole carjacked you. He knocked you out cold."

Wilson's eyes opened wide." So you're saying I don't have a car?"

"What are you so upset about? It was a Volvo."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Well, I guess some things are better left forgotten."

House glanced at his watch.

"You took your watch back?"

"No."

"Yes, you took it back. You're wearing it." The younger doctor pointed to his friend's wrist.

"This you remember," House said shaking his head. And it was just a loan. What else do you remember?" He crossed his arms making sure the one with the watch was visible.

Wilson thought a moment. He looked at his friend and smiled. "I remember sleeping with you."

Tbc

A/N: I know Dr. Foreman is a neurologist but I didn't want him to be Wilson's doctor because I think House respects Foreman too much to say some of the comments he makes about Dr. Roth.