Disclaimer thingee: i do not own james wilson or gregory house, but i wish i did.

Author's Note: I deleted the original document. Sorry about the mistakes before. My microsoft word was mixing up my sentances and punctuation. I think that it is fixed, but if it isn't, please ignore it, OR JUST ASK ME! i am not easily offened, fot hose of you who are easily afraid. Personally, i believe if House did really suck his thumb it would probably be his left. This is because of his love for music, which is more directed in the right side of your brain (which controls the left). Either way, i wanted him to suck his right one in this story. LOL. Please enjoy and review! (even if you did already)

James Wilson was trying to be patient, and he was failing miserably. Gregory House was the most difficult patient that James had ever dealt with. James, first, excused the older doctor, saying that House could not help being tenacious. Later, that same week, Greg had been downgraded to stubborn. Today, Greg had been lowered down ten spots to a plain jackass. James pinched the bridge of his nose with his pointer finger and thumb, squeezed his eyes shut, and heaved out a tremendous sigh. He really was trying.

Gregory House was tucked into a corner of the couch. The cane had been discarded on the floor in front of him. James became even more frustrated when he saw how engrossed House was in the cartoon. He sat next to House on the couch and began to coax him to do some more exercises. Wilson thought about moving House to a different couch because every time House sat there, they made less progress.

Wilson slightly raised his voice and asked, "Are you trying to irritate me?"

James Wilson already knew the answer, but Greg was completely ignoring James. Wilson thought about moving House to a different couch danced and his eyebrows rose he was doubly assured. Spongebob was laughing and Greg was smirking. James Wilson was officially being mocked. Gregory House turned his attention back to the television and stuck his right thumb in his mouth. As always, the thumb went in, the pointer and middle fingers would stick out and lay against his right cheek, ring finger and pinky folded and lightly pressed against his face and the right side of his nose with the top joints against his upper lip, and then the ears would turn off. Wilson could not have been any more annoyed. House was ignoring James, while comforting himself at the same time. Great.

James sighed and calmly called, "House… House… House…"

When Greg refused to answer James just watched him. So mindlessly, those big blue eyes continued to stare at the television. Wilson knew that look. House was not paying attention to the programme at all, but Wilson could not tell what thoughts were crossing House's mind. It had only been a two months since the infarction, but they had grown to know each other so well. Sure, Greg and James would talk before, but now they knew each other's vices and what certain expressions meant. The words coming from the television were just a blur. Though barely audible, the most definite sound in the room was the sound of a thumb sandwiched between the roof of a mouth and a rhythmically moving tongue, all ensconced in pure saliva. In short, all Wilson could hear was the tick…tick…tick… of House sucking his thumb. James watched and thought.

Wilson completely loathed House's thumb sucking. Come to think of it Wilson really didn't like House that much either. Why the hell was he helping him? Anyway. Wilson remembered the first time he had seen House suck his thumb. It had been after the infarction, when House was still in the hospital. James would come into Greg's room at 2 o'clock, everyday, for physical therapy. The original therapist gave up on Greg in the middle of the second session (I don't think there is any need to explain why). Wilson had volunteered to take her place, but he had no idea why. As he pondered this, he walked into Greg's room. Wilson was looking down at his files as he walked in. James began to casually talk to Greg. When he noticed that there was no response, he looked up and saw that House was asleep. At first, Wilson thought that House was pretending, because they always joked around with each other, but when he saw the way House's chest would rise and fall he knew that Greg really was asleep. James Wilson smiled and, then, laughed softly. He had seen House's hands around his face many times, but thought nothing of it. Wilson knew that this would be the perfect source for blackmail. Greg had teased Wilson so many times, for the silliest things, but, now, Wilson had some source of defense. Then, it hit Wilson that maybe this was not a normal "House habit", but possibly a sign coming from the trauma of the infarction. Wilson sighed and shook House awake. As James was setting up, House became awake. James did not notice when Greg's eyes when from lazily opening to popping open, and when he turned from white as a sheet to a deep shade of red. When Wilson turned back to talk to House, he still had a tint of pink in his face. James commented on how House was looking a little flushed, then smirked. Greg made James promise not to tell anyone, but he only got James to promise this after he had confessed that he actually was a thumb sucker. House, apparently, had nearly stopped the behaviour while living with Stacey. However, the infarction had caused him to go back to it. Wilson had promised House, on his own, that he would not use it for blackmail, or seriously criticize him for it, but he could not promise him that he would not tease him from time to time. Wilson had gotten half a smile out of that comment. Wilson still hated the habit, but didn't have the heart to break House out of it.

Ever since that day, House and Wilson had become close. Wilson had, secretly, felt privileged that House was secure enough with Wilson to suck his thumb in front of him. Greg had not even done that in front of Stacey, whom he had loved more than anyone else. Though Wilson was happy that House trusted him with something so personal, he was still frustrated that House was so insecure with his current life situation. James thought of ways to make Greg feel better, but they all seemed too insane to work. Wilson thanked God for the nurse who gave House extra sleeping pills that day to sedate his temper. Then again, if God had not given House that temper then the nurse would not have had to give him those sleeping pills. James could not bring himself to thank God for giving House a bad temper. Either way, if the situation had not occurred House and Wilson would not be the friends that they were.

James Wilson broke himself from his thoughts. He still heard House's tick…tick…tick… and was annoyed to no end. Then something that rarely occurred happened in James Wilson – his anger got the better of him. He had just been happily reminiscing, but, when he came back to reality, he was still frustrated. Then, he blew his top (so to speak).

"Gregory House! Get that damn thumb out of your mouth this instant! We are going to continue with therapy, now, whether you like it or not!"

James knew force was the worse thing to use with Greg, and he knew he should not have been so angry, but he was. James wasn't necessarily angry with him, but he was so tired and there were too many problems at home. He knew that he had just made a bad decision.

Gregory House looked at James Wilson. He slowly took his thumb out of his mouth and just stared. Greg's face was filled with a mixture of shock and anger, but only hurt was visible in his eyes. Without breaking eye contact, Greg grabbed his cane and stood up.

"Greg, I'm…WAIT!", James called.

House continued to hobble toward his bedroom. The eye contact had long been broken. Wilson did not call anymore. After a few minutes he got up and walked to Greg's bedroom door. It was open and Wilson just stood in the doorway, leaning on the doorframe. Greg was sitting on the bed, facing away from James.

Wilson began to plead, "Greg –", but he was cut off.

"Don't talk to me".

"Come on, Greg…"

House whipped his head around.

"NO! You broke your promise. Even worse, it wasn't the promise I wanted you to make, it was one that you had made yourself."

House stared. Wilson knew that he was right. He had broken his promise, he had behaved badly, and he could never give anyone what they needed.

Wilson might have ruined this trust, this friendship. Those big blues kept searing through his heart.

"You're right", Wilson responded, as House turned back around.

Half sarcastically, and half seriously, House replied, "Of course I am".

James Wilson smiled and walked over to his friend. He sat on the side of the bed next to House, keeping his distance of course.

"You know what?"

"What?", House groused.

"You just walked by yourself."

"Really?"

Wilson nodded and smiled. His brown eyes twinkled underneath raised eyebrows. House looked at Wilson out of dancing blue eyes. His frown cracked open into a wide, toothy grin that had not shined on the world in a very long time. The two men broke into an awkward and strange, yet happy, laughter. Wilson thought that they would never stop smiling.

Naturally, House broke the laughter.

"We should celebrate."

"Yeah", Wilson softly replied.

After a round of Chinese take out and (because of the occasion) very expensive champagne, the movie came. The movie was Forrest Gump. They weren't sure why they were watching that movie. Maybe they watched it because it was the only thing entertaining on television, or maybe it was, coincidently, a reflection of their friendship. Who knows?

House spoke around his thumb, "Why the hell are we watching this movie? There aren't any hot chicks in it."

Wilson looked surprised, "You don't think Jenny is hot?"

House gave a hearty, mocking laugh and turned his attention back to the television.

"Sure, James."

Greg's face looked so young and relaxed when the thumb was in. Usually his unshaven face looked so tense and hard, but in those rare moments, when Wilson saw the thumb go in, the face reflected contentment. Wilson hoped that one day House's face would look that satisfied in everyday life. Maybe he could help Greg feel that way about friendship, about life. Wilson knew that he was getting carried away, for nothing in this life is certain (except Salvation). All James Wilson knew was that horrid tick…tick…tick… was the most reassuring sound he had ever heard.

AN: over half of you probably tried that thumb posistion on yourselves to see what i meant. you did didn't you? HAHA