CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE: Family Matters

Exactly two hours later, Wilson awakens to the same sounds he was hearing when he'd drifted off—Cuddy, speaking with—or to, House. And to the sound of rain. For a while, he just lies there taking in the sounds; the soft, soothing voice, the rhythmic patter of the rain outside making him feel safe and sheltered in here. It reminds him of when he was young, and his parents would take him on long car trips. They'd always depart at night, and he'd fall asleep in the backseat, and each time he'd briefly wake, the hum of the tires on the road, the blanket of darkness, his mom's gentle voice would all conspire to send him quickly back to his dreams. He remembers feeling happy then, and safe; all was right with his world.

It's been a long time since I've felt like that, he thinks. But he realizes he feels like that right now, and he's unwilling to give it up just yet. So he continues to lie there, protected and content, as he gives his mind free rein to go on a trip of its own.

Cuddy's being so sweet with House, sounds as if she's speaking to a child. She'd have made a great pediatrician, an even better mom. Wonder why she never had kids.

House must be doing really well at level 3; if his sedation were too light I'd know it—no way he'd let Cuddy get away with being nice to him! He smiles drowsily as his thoughts wander his mental library of dreams and memories, questions, hopes, fears.

Mmm, rain's comin' down hard now. Hope my brother's dry, safe tonight…hope my brother's alive. My biggest regret; couldn't save my own brother….which, of course, brings to mind…House. Not gonna make the same mistakes with him—but I almost did, didn't I?

Almost pushed him away—or, almost let him push me away. Not sure which…does it matter? End result's the same.

Foreman did a good job explaining what it is I give House, why this friendship works for House; wonder why I've never let myself examine why it works for me…or… if it works for me. And that's maybe why I've never given it any thought—maybe it doesn't work for me.

This thought, unbidden and accusing, unsettles him; suddenly this little trip's not so comfortable anymore. He's almost frightened to analyze the unwelcome thought, but he's here now, and he's not one to back away from a challenge.

Wilson, you're the one who's always saying that even painful truths can bring comfort, yet you're reluctant to examine the most significant relationship you've got; just don't wanna go there, do ya? Might find out you really don't like the bastard; maybe he's just a charity case for you, ya know—the need to be needed, and all that rot. Or maybe it's just the challenge; everybody likes you, everybody's always liked you. But House doesn't like anybody. Did ya want to force him to like you, just to see if it could be done? Just a little personal challenge?

He smiles, a little, to himself. He has to admit that, well, yeah, maybe that was a part of it—in the beginning. But he knows it's not why he's stayed around, so he discards that theory.

So why have you stayed around, Wilson? It's sure not for his gratitude—you just said as much yourself, to Cuddy. And it's not for those regular helpings of abuse he throws at you, you're not a masochist. So what the hell is it?

He's running out of theories, and it's making him nervous; maybe he really doesn't get anything out of this stupid, screwed-up friendship. Maybe he just stays out of…pity. But no, that just doesn't feel right, even as he thinks it. He knows himself—and House—better than that.

And then—it hits him. All at once, it hits him, and it's right. We're brothers. No, not my second chance to redo things from a decade ago; not even a replacement. Just, my brother in his own right.

It all fits now. When things are going well, you don't question it; it's just family. When things aren't going well, you have to question it, eventually, because it's family. And when you do question it, and the answers are…painful, it's just human nature to resent it, to want to turn away. But you don't. He won't. Because it's House. Because he's family.

Wilson stretches, rises from the lounge. And I thought House's couch was uncomfortable. He walks over to House and Cuddy; he likes what he sees on the monitors. And he likes what he hears from Cuddy; she's just finished telling House how she admires his courage for agreeing to go through with this.

Cuddy looks up at Wilson's approach, says, "I like this, it's…nice. Different. A real change, being able to talk to him without being interrupted, insulted, leered at, and walked out on. I could get used to this, but…I don't want to. He may be an idiot with the social skills of a river rock, but he's our idiot." She leans toward House and whispers, "Hurry back."

Wilson puts a hand on her shoulder. "Enjoy it while you can, we'll be moving into the home stretch in a few hours. How's he doing?"

Cuddy gives him report, leaves to get some rest herself. "Okay, House," Wilson says. "It's you and me. Just had a revelation—you might be interested. Like it or not—and sometimes I really don't like it at all—we're family, you and I. Brothers. And best friends on top of that. That means we're stuck with each other for the long haul. And for what it's worth, buddy, you need to remember that even when we don't like our family, we never stop caring about them…and worrying—ever. So deal, okay?"

House, of course, sleeps peacefully through Wilson's epiphany, and so doesn't notice that Wilson-- anxious, worried James Wilson-- actually looks at peace with the world, and with himself, as he conducts the next assessment.