A/N: Just wanted to say hello to whoever's reading this story waves . I guess I should start thinking of how I'm going to end this puppy. But not in this chapter.

Chapter 13

House gently shook Wilson by his shoulders. "Jimmy, wake up." The younger man rolled onto his stomach towards the other direction.

"Go 'way," he mumbled into his pillow.

"Jimmy, you need to wake up," Gently rubbing his back, House's hand gravitated to his upper arm, lightly squeezing it.

"I don't want to."

"You have to."

"Go 'way."

"Don't make me slap you."

Wilson's head popped up. Groaning, he rolled over onto his back, his eyes still closed. "You're a mean son of a bitch."

"Thank you."

"Don't mention it," he said, his eyes still closed. He yawned. "What are you doing here in the middle of the night? Did Julie let you in?"

House's stomach lurched. "What?"

"Where is she?" he asked, slowly opening his eyes, blinking against the light in the room.

"Where's who?"

"Julie. Where is she?' His eyes were squinting as they slowly adjusted to the light.

"Jimmy, do you know where you are?"

Wilson blinked a few times as he attempted to focus on his friend's face. "I'm sorry…what?"

"Do you know where you are?"

Rubbing his eyes he slowly raised himself up onto his elbows. "Is this a joke?" he asked, his voice groggy.

"No."

"What time is it?"

"Jimmy, you need to focus." House grabbed him by his upper arm and pulled him up to a sitting position.

"Ouch." He rubbed his arm. "Jesus, House, are you trying to break my arm?"

"Tell me where you are," House ordered, his voice sharp.

He scrunched up his face. "Why are you so mad?"

Sighing, House tried again. "Listen to me, Jimmy. Look around the room and tell me where you are."

"Okay, okay," he said, looking around the room, "but you still didn't tell me where Julie…." He stopped talking as it finally dawned on him. His eyes opened wide. "Hospital?"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

He started to panic. "I'm not sure. Did something happen to Julie?"

"No, nothing's happened to her."

House was on the verge of panic himself. His mind was on overdrive as he furiously thought of the best way to handle this. He wasn't sure whether his friend was confused as he often tended to be upon waking or if he was suffering from retrograde amnesia, a delayed symptom of his concussion. It would be too traumatic to come right out and tell the other man everything that had occurred. He had to do it slowly, allowing him time to remember.

He took a deep breath. "You have a concussion. Sometimes you're a bit confused when you wake up. So, let's just talk a while and see what comes back to you."

"I have a concussion?"

Casting his eyes to the floor, House tried to gather his thoughts. He stared at his friend. "What month is this?"

"What?"

"Tell me what month this is."

"It's…. " Wilson laughed nervously. "That's just plain weird. I'm not sure what month this is." He looked at his friend for help.

"That's because of your injury."

"My injury."

"Don't you remember?"

Squeezing his eyes shut, he tried to remember what House could possibly be talking about. "Just give me a few minutes." He opened his eyes. "Maybe Julie can help me remember. Is she here?" he asked, looking past House towards the glass walls.

House slowly shook his head. There had been instances when his friend awoke with no issues at all, and then there were the other times when it took him a few minutes to orient himself. But this was the most severe and unsettling state of confusion he had seen him experience so far.

Wilson rubbed his eyes again. "I'm really tired. I just need to lie down for a minute." Curling up on his side, he rested his head on the pillow and closed his eyes. "Wake me when Julie gets here," he said as he dozed off.

House pulled the blanket up over his friend and watched him sleep. It was late, twelve-thirty in the morning, but he needed to page Dr. Roth. It would be bad enough if Wilson's disorientation had worsened, but it would be devastating if he had developed retrograde amnesia. He hadn't seen this coming.

He pushed the nurse's call button, impatiently waiting for a response.

"Can I help you?" the efficient sounding voice came over the speaker.

"Yes, this is Dr. House, can you please bring in Dr. Wilson's chart?"

"Of course, Doctor."

House squeezed Wilson's hand as he watched him sleep. He dropped his head to his chest and took a deep sobering breath. If his friend was suffering from retrograde amnesia, it would mean that everything they had shared these past few days had essentially never happened…. at least for Wilson. And if that were true, it would also mean he had just lost the only part of his life that truly made him happy.

He heard the night nurse come into the room. Turning to face her, he accepted Wilson's chart nodding briefly in acknowledgement. As he read Dr. Roth's instructions he spoke to the nurse.

"I need you page Dr.…." He stopped talking, wrinkling up his face.

He looked at the nurse. "What medication did you give Dr. Wilson at ten pm?

House's tone unsettled the young woman. "He told me he had a headache so I gave him what Dr. Roth had instructed on his chart."

"Is this what you gave him?" House showed her the chart, pointing to her notes.

She looked at her handwriting. "Yes, I gave him Indocin."

House shook his head. "That's not what Dr. Roth had instructed. He ordered Midrin for Dr. Wilson's headaches." House showed her the chart again.

Glancing at the instructions, the nurse's face blanched. She looked at House. "Oh my god. I'm so sorry. I don't know how I could've made such a mistake."

House was angry that the night nurse had dosed his friend with the wrong medication. But he was more relieved than angry, knowing that one of the potential side effects of Indocin was intense confusion, especially in someone with a concussion. It also meant that when the drug wore off, he would have Wilson back in the same condition he had left him the night before.

He looked at the young woman noting the fear on her face.

"Fix it," he said.

"Excuse me?"

"Change the chart and initial it. If anyone questions you just say you wrote down the wrong medication."

She looked at him, her face distorted in a mask of bewilderment. "You want me to change it?"

He sighed. "You made a mistake. The potential fallout of any mistake can be disastrous. In this case, you were lucky. First, because Dr. Wilson will recover from your idiotic blunder. Second, because I was the one who found it. And I can say with confidence that you'll never screw up like this again." He handed her back the chart.

"Thank you, Doctor…thank you so much." The extent of her relief was obvious.

House turned around towards his friend, effectively dismissing her. After she left the room, he took Wilson's hand in his and watched him sleep.

tbc

A/N: I took some poetic license with the meds. While both medications come in capsule form, they are different colors. So, we'll just say Wilson wasn't paying attention (well, he does have a concussion), House was watching TV and the nurse was an idiot.