Short chapter, just a wind down of the story. Hope you enjoyed it!

Wilson wasn't home when House got there, so House helped himself to Wilson's dinner that sat in the fridge so calmly with a note attached to it 'Do NOT Eat'. Grinning, House took the note and attached it to an old box of baking soda in the corner of the fridge and put Wilson's dinner in the microwave. He sat down at his piano bench and took his Vicodin out of his pocket. He stared at the bottle, almost defying it, trying to be stronger than it. He finally sighed deeply and opened the bottle, dropping one in his hand, staring at it for a moment before throwing it in his mouth. He placed the bottle gingerly back in his pocket.

The microwave beeped impatiently, but House ignored it and instead began to strike notes on the piano, slowly at first until he warmed up, then he was lost in the music. When Wilson got home, he found House asleep on the couch, and the dinner that he had prepared and tricked House into claiming it as his was still sitting in the microwave. Wilson shook his head and went to dump the dinner into the garbage when he saw House's half full Vicodin bottle in the trash. He looked up sharply at House, then smiled slightly.