A/N: I've decided to end the story with the next chapter. I think I've found as many torturous benefits from Wilson's concussion…for House as well… as I possibly could without getting into the melodramatic medical clichés.

Chapter 14

House leaned back in the recliner fascinated by the show Wilson presented as he ate his breakfast. The young oncologist sat cross legged on the bed treating each food item as if it had been tainted with some kind of mysterious…and foul…food additive. In truth, he was more bellyaching than eating. He snapped off the plastic lid from the bowl on his tray, immediately making a face as he peered inside. Carefully picking up the bowl, he brought it up to his nose and sniffed its contents, wrinkling up his face.

"Do you always smell your food before you eat it?"

"I do when I'm not sure it's food."

"This isn't room service at the Waldorf. Eat the damned….whatever it is," House said pointing in the general direction of the tray.

"It's supposed to be oatmeal."

"So, eat the damned oatmeal."

Wilson looked at his friend, exasperation on his face. "It looks terrible."

"So, close your eyes and eat the damned oatmeal."

He placed the lid back onto the bowl pushing it away. "Call Chase and tell him to bring me…us…something from the Carnegie Deli."

"Already did. He should be here in about half an hour."

Wilson smiled appreciatively at his friend. "I guess I can drink this…coffee?" he said, peering into the cup before bringing it to his lips. "I need the caffeine."

"You tired?"

"Didn't sleep very well."

House eyed his friend. "Do you remember me waking you last night?"

He shrugged, shaking his head as he studied his coffee. "The nights are one big blur…you wake me up…. you ask me what month it is…or where I am….or who my doctor is….whatever, and then I go back to sleep. Last night was no different, I'm sure." He took another sip of the coffee, making another face.

"Do you have to make a face every time you take a sip?"

"I have no control over it."

House smirked. "Last night was different."

Wilson looked up from his coffee. "Really? How?"

"Well if I must tell you, we had sex in your bed. Then I asked you questions."

"Oh yeah, I remember now," he said, his eyes inexpressive. He turned his attention back to the strange brown liquid in his cup.

House's eyebrow went up. "That's all you have to say?"

"Oh, sorry. You're the best I ever had. How was that?" he asked, tilting his head questioningly.

"It's a start," House said, smiling at his friend.

Wilson had been slightly disoriented when House had awakened him that morning, but, fortunately, he appeared to have suffered no after effects from the mix up in his medication. The older man recalled how panicked he had felt when his friend had demonstrated signs of retrograde amnesia.

"Something wrong?"

"Hmm?" House looked up, unaware that he had been staring at the floor.

"You look like something's upsetting you." He glanced down at the food on his tray. "I'm the one who should be upset."

"Uh….no. Just need these," House said, retrieving his Vicodin bottle from his jacket pocket and quickly downing a pill. He smiled at the other man. "All better."

House grabbed his cane, leaning into it to stand. He limped over to the bed, efficiently snatching a piece of toast from Wilson's tray. As he took a bite he glanced down at the nightstand and frowned, reaching down and moving the phone with his free hand, continuing to lift items off the table one by one.

"Not necessary to clean up after me…they have people who do that."

House scratched his head still concentrating on the table. "Where's your coin?"

"I put it in the drawer."

"Why?" he asked, opening the drawer and retrieving the coin, rolling it around in his fingers, examining it.

"It's not working anymore."

"Well, you know how these lucky coins are. You half melt them….they lose all their magical powers." He looked at his friend. "Why do you say it's stopped working?"

"You have to ask me that?"

He shrugged. "You still have me."

"That's encouraging." Wilson thought a moment, resting his elbow on the bed table and staring past his friend. "I know the coin melted in the accident, but I don't remember how it ended up in my possession again."

House put the coin down and carefully sank down on the edge of the bed, quickly abducting the glass of orange juice on his friend's tray. He held it as he spoke. "You told me you went to the accident site. You don't remember?"

He slowly shook his head. "No."

"Maybe it'll come back to you if we talk about it."

Taking a sip of the orange juice, House instinctively made a very similar face to the one Wilson had earlier. He put the glass back onto the tray.

He turned his attention back towards the coin, addressing it. "So, I guess you're being retired." He looked up at his colleague. "What do you do with a retired good luck coin? Bury it?" Cocking his head, he went on about the good luck coin. "It does have sentimental value though…. the fact that it came from me…."

"I think I fell," Wilson said, wrinkling up his forehead.

House turned to his friend to find him resting both elbows on the bed table, his chin supported by his hands. "You didn't fall. You were whacked on the head… knocked unconscious."

Wilson lifted his head. "No, when I went to the accident site…something happened."

"What do you mean 'something happened'?"

"I remember going down…falling. And then the next thing I knew I was sitting on the curb with the coin in my hand."

House grew concerned. "Do you think you passed out?"

He slowly shook his head. "Don't think so. I probably just didn't see the curb." He squinted his eyes. "Maybe I hit my head."

"That would explain the swelling."

"And it could also mean that some of my symptoms are a result of the fall, not from the original injury." He spoke slowly, unraveling the scenario as he spoke.

House looked impressed. "Very good. You'll be back playing with your little bald headed people in no time."

Wilson's expression turned somber as he pushed the wheeled bed table away and leaned back against his pillow. He rubbed the back of his neck.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me," House said, placing his hand on Wilson's leg.

"I'm worried about going back to work….that I won't be able to…" His voice trailed off as he peered into his friend's eyes searching for reassurance.

House sighed. "You need to give it more time."

He cast his eyes towards the floor. "I'm not so sure that's all I need," he said quietly. He looked back into his House's eyes. "The two most important things in my life are you and my job. And as important as you are, you're not enough."

House lightly rubbed his friend's leg. "Jimmy, you're doing much better and you'll continue to improve. Trust me." He reached over and picked up the coin from the night stand. "In the meantime, don't write this off yet," he said, handing it to him.

The younger doctor smiled sadly as he took the coin from his friend. "Maybe it still does have magical powers. After all, it did come from you."

tbc