Toxicity

"Stop scratching."

Looking up quickly, Wilson pulled his hand away from the back of his head, not realizing he was even guilty of the spoken crime. A forced, apologetic smile twitching on his lips in Cuddy's general direction, Wilson forced his hand down to rest upon his thigh, awaiting the rest of his lecture.

"What's wrong?" Cuddy asked, steepling her fingers with her elbows resting against the desk. She wasn't enjoying this – Wilson was a good man, a good doctor, yet his behavior, at least that according to Dr. House, troubled her greatly. She didn't want him turning into a liability.

"Head lice. Every school in New Jersey's got them. Damn gift from House. I--"

Cuddy shook her head, silencing him quickly. Pressing the two index fingers of her hands against her lips, she fixed him with an oddly soft, sympathetic gaze. Wilson found himself feeling guilty for eliciting such an expression and looked away.

"No. What's wrong with you. As a whole."

Oh, God – he was getting shrink wrapped. She was trying to probe his mind in that caring 'I feel your pain' sort of way. It was the sort of behavior that made Wilson want to cringe, but he managed to contain himself. Somehow.

"Nothing, I'm fine. It—it's just stress."

Cuddy nodded. Wilson bit the inside of his lower lip a little, hoping he would be able to slink back to his office soon enough.

"Something's wrong. You and Greg, there's something up there too."

Wilson noticed Cuddy had leant forwards slightly, obviously wanting to hear some kind of gossip from what was happening between the two near-inseparable friends. They had their moments, but Cuddy had always banked on Wilson being the one person House could rely on. It seemed she had been wrong – when Greg had entered her office to speak to her about James, yet had spoke as though the man in question was nothing more than an irritating stranger.

"We're just... treading on each other's toes. I need to get out of his hair. It's fine."

Raising a hand to the back of his head again, Wilson rubbed the itch at the back of his head once more. It was slowly driving him mad, along with Blythe's state and House's moods. Just another on a great list, it seemed.

"You're close enough to contract something from his hair." Cuddy pointed out, and Wilson sighed at the comment. "What have you been doing?"

The male declined to answer, merely shaking his head gently.

"Close enough for him to bite you, then?"

Cuddy saw the surprise flit over Wilson's face as she asked the question, and his hand immediately went to his open collar, pressing it against his neck. She nodded. He winced.

"You're sleeping with him." She stated, simply, lowering her eyes to her desk lamp. She wasn't finding it awkward, merely... surprising. Neither House nor Wilson had struck her as particularly that manner inclined. Well, House didn't seem to be interested in anything outside of hookers, and Wilson could barely stop himself eying up the closest young nurse.

"Once." Wilson gingerly released his neck, shifting a little in the seat. Cuddy nodded.

"He came to me, earlier. Telling me you weren't fit to be here, that I should send you home." She felt like the bearer of bad news, and dearly hoped Wilson wasn't in favor of shooting the messenger. "He doesn't want you to be here."

No reply.

"Your wife... ah... ex-wife is under our care, James, and it's not ethical for you to be involved as much as you are. There's very little I can do about that – you're up to your neck with House's moods, stress, as well as your own cases... I should take his advice and send you home."

Pulling himself up from the chair, Wilson nodded at her words, straightening his tie a little as he waited for the next portion of her speech. 'It's for your own good, don't feel too bad...'

"But I'm not going to. A – because I don't take advice from a man who owes me Clinic Duty, and B – I doubt you'll do much good twiddling your thumbs at home. We need you here."

Tilting his head to the floor, a genuinely happy smile formed over Wilson's lips, and he nodded again. He was beginning to look like a novelty car accessory.

"Go on, get back to your office. And... Wilson?"

He looked up at her questioningly, wondering what more there was to say.

"House is... he's a hard man to love." Cuddy clasped her hands, resting them upon her desk as something to stare at as she spoke. "But don't take it hard if he can't love you back."

Perhaps it was too late to be offering such advice - she could see the hurt in his eyes as he nodded for the final time.