A/N: Another difficult chapter. I feel the need to repeat, I love Wilson. But I also love torturing him. I'm going to hell.

I seem to be having a problem with writer's block, but I'll try my best to overcome it.

Chapter 10

Wilson watched as House slept soundly on the recliner Dr. Cuddy had ordered for him. As he studied the older doctor's face, he remembered how he had awakened him several times during the night to monitor his orientation, which meant he hadn't slept. It definitely showed. He was glad to see his best friend finally getting some sleep.

He turned his attention to the other side of the bed where Chase sat sprawled on a chair watching a soccer match on television. It had dawned on him that he hadn't been left alone since the panic attack. Dr. Roth had said he would probably have another one, a prospect he dreaded. He didn't remember very much about the attack, just that he had been terrified and apparently ripped out his IV, of which he had no recollection. Thus, the constant babysitters.

He looked up as Foreman walked into the room. "How're you doing?"

He shrugged. "Okay, I guess." He tilted his head towards House. "Better than him."

"I heard that." All three doctors turned towards the older man to find him stretching in his chair, yawning. Retrieving his cane from the side of the nightstand, he slowly leaned into it and dragged himself to his feet groaning loudly.

"Which one of you drugged me in my sleep?" he asked, his voice groggy as he quickly shook his head attempting to wake up. "Not that I'm complaining." He reached down to the nightstand and snatched up his bottle of Vicodin.

"How long was I out?" he asked Wilson as he downed a pill.

The other man glanced up at the clock. "About an hour and a half."

"That would explain the rigor mortis in my leg." He grimaced as he shifted his feet in an effort to get comfortable.

"I have a message from Dr. Roth," Foreman said, directing his attention to James. "Dr. Jensen won't be coming to see you today."

"Why the change in plans?" House asked.

"Jensen wants to wait to see what happens with the swelling before confirming a diagnosis of PCS."

"It's okay with me," Wilson said feeling relieved.

"Yeah, me too," House agreed. "Word on the street is he wears women's underwear. I don't think I can trust a man who wears a thong."

The sound of Dr. Cameron clearing her throat attracted the attention of all four doctors. They turned to find her standing in the doorway with her arms crossed in front of her.

"Stripper's here….the party can start now." House announced. "Can someone loan me a dollar?"

She scowled at her boss as she approached the bed, smiling warmly at Wilson. "How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Good, I'm good." He smiled back at her.

House narrowed his eyes. "Are you here to make nice with Wilson or are you here to strip? Because if you're here to make nice you can just go back to work."

"What about Foreman and Chase?" she asked, her hands on her hips.

House scrunched up his face. "I'm not particularly interested in watching Foreman get naked and Chase is just too darned shy. But thanks for asking."

She rolled her eyes. "Fortunately I have clinic duty." She looked at Wilson. "I'll see you later."

"Sure." He smiled as she left the room.

"What's this 'I'll see you later' stuff? You two have a date?"

"Yes, House, we do. She's coming to my room tonight to have sex with me in my bed."

House's eyes lit up. "Can I watch?"

Wilson smirked as he glanced up at the television. "How much longer will this be on?"

Chase shrugged. "I think it's almost over." He glanced at the clock as he motioned to his colleague. "Foreman, let's go… that workup won't finish itself." He looked at the patient. "We'll see you later." The two doctors quickly left the room.

Wilson clicked off the television. Closing his eyes, he settled back against his pillow. Just moments later House noticed his right hand quivering.

"Jimmy, are you okay?"

He didn't reply.

"Jimmy." His hand continued to shake, his face suddenly veiled with tension.

"Jimmy."

Still no response.

Moving closer to the bed, House lightly touched Wilson's arm, causing him to cry out, his eyes snapping open. He appeared to be highly distraught, his breathing accelerating and becoming shallow.

Not wanting to take any chances, House quickly leaned over the bed and secured the restraint around his friend's right wrist. As he took hold of his left wrist he felt James resisting.

"What are you doing?" The younger man was staring in shock at the leather strap in House's hand as he frantically tried to pull his hand away.

"No!" he cried out as he fought vehemently against his friend. Unable to free his hand he watched helplessly as House secured the restraint around his left wrist.

"Greg.…." he pleaded, his voice breaking.

House's initial reaction was to unfasten the restraints. But he couldn't take the chance ofWilson hurting himself. The potential cost of second impact syndrome was too high.

"I'm sorry, Jimmy." House spoke quietly, his eyes locked with his friend's in a battle of wills. His attention was drawn to Wilson's wrists, feeling powerless as he watched him strain against the thick leather straps, his hands tightly clenched in fists.

"Take them off." Wilson's voice was hoarse as he fought with the restraints.

"Jimmy…"

"No! Take them off!" he shouted, anguish clear in his voice. "Why are you doing this?"

House slid a chair closer to the bed and sat down, reaching out to stroke his friend's hair in an effort to calm him.

"You tore out your IV."

"I won't do it again, I promise. Just take them off," he pleaded as he struggled against his confinement.

House shook his head. "You weren't even aware of it, Jimmy. I can't risk you hurting yourself again. Try to relax…don't fight it."

Wilson let out a strangled breath, tears welling in his eyes.

"What's happening to me?" His voice was barely above a whisper.

House continued to stroke his hair, gently taking hold of his forearm with his other hand. "You just need some time. Try to calm down."

The two men stared into each other's eyes. After several tense moments, House felt the churning in his stomach subside as he watched the panic slowly diminish from Wilson's face.

"Okay," James said softly resting his head against his pillow. Still scared and confused, he placed his trust in his best friend knowing he would never hurt or lie to him. He sighed quietly. "Okay," he said again, closing his eyes forcing the tears to overflow and run down his face.

tbc