A/N: Have a nice day every one! :)

Disclaimer: DOH

They're silent as they exit the hospital. The Odd Couple at their best, Wilson pushes House's wheelchair along at an even pace. By the time they reach Wilson's car, House finally breaks the tentative silence.

"I'll get a cab."

"My car is right here."

"So?"

Wilson sighs frustrated, assuming his superhuman pose that he reserves for occasions of House's stubbornness. "It'll be easier to just let me take you home."

"You're all about making things easier for me, aren't you?"

"And you're all about making things infinitely harder for yourself!"

"Yeah, well I can do what I want."

For a second, Wilson thinks about not saying anything in response, but he's spent over a month not saying the important things to him. "What you've done hasn't gotten you anywhere."

"Still, my choice."

"And you're fine with that?"

"Yes! Alright! Damn it! I am fine with that! I am fucking perfect with that!"

No one would have thought they were best friends at that fraction of a moment had they looked on. Even Wilson is taken aback by the sheer emotion seeping through House's words. That's when he knows with a hundred percent certainty that House cares. He's taken aback even more.

House rubs his forehead harshly, the headache beginning to rampage and pillage his senses. He's had enough for one night. More than enough for the rest of his life, actually.

"House…come on. You've had a rough night."

"I said I'd call a cab."

"I won't say a word. I won't do anything unless you say to. I just…I have to make sure you end up at your place fine."

"I don't care to satisfy your guilty conscience."

"Trust me. You aren't."

They share a glance, one that reminds both of them of just yesterday when they were picking out breast sizes in the nurses, women and men. House concedes only because he's tired to the yellow marrow of his bones and Wilson's right. It's easier to just take the ride from him.

"One ride. That's it."

Wilson can manage that, for now. "Fine."

The silence is still their father when they arrive at his apartment. Wilson cuts the engine off and steps out to grab the wheelchair in the backseat before making his way to the open passenger door with a waiting House.

House makes no move to position himself in the wheelchair, keeping his eyes focused on the button controlling the window.

"House?"

"Would you have done it?"

"Done what?"

His tongue slightly tsks at random. "Raise my kid?"

Rocking back gently on his heels, Wilson resists the temptation to run his fingers through his hair and rest it on his neck as if tension has gathered there. He looks up into the night sky as if the answer is written somewhere in stars that are invisible to everyone but him. The truth is, he doesn't rightly know. He'd been taking it day by day. Like now.

"It doesn't really matter anymore, does it?"

Motionless, House thinks about the question. Then, he brings out his cane and hefts himself out of the vehicle without any words escaping his lips. It hurts, but when hasn't it? House stares at Wilson, the wheelchair and so much more between them, both of them waiting for something that isn't quite ready to be found, before leaning on his cane heavily and moving one painful foot in front of the other carefully and cautiously.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

She opens her eyes and turns her head to find him in the same position as her on the bed, supine, except his eyes are closed.

"My shorts."

"I'm pretty sure I can't do your shorts."

House feels Cameron turn on her side to face him, his hand shifting inside the waistband of her shorts.

"You're a pervert even when you're asleep."

"It's part of my charm."

"Really?"

"You like it don't you?"

"What if I said no?"

"Then I'd know you're lying."

"How?"

"Everybody lies."

"So I've heard."

"From a genius, I bet."

"I wouldn't call him that."

He fingers the soft waistband of her navy shorts, moving from her right hip meeting the bed to the fabric over her left hip rising up into air. He allows his palm to flatten over her thin hip, his fingers splaying over warm from sleep skin.

"I think I'm sick."

"Why?"

"My throat's all scratchy. My nose is stuffy. I think I'm catching something."

Cameron rolls her eyes as she shifts closer to him and places the back of her hand on his forehead. "You feel fine."

"I'm pretty sure I'm gonna have to call in sick."

"You think you can get around Cuddy?"

"You're right. I just won't show up."

"Ha. Yeah, and then she'll just show up here to drag your fake sick ass back to clinic for an all day help-a-thon."

"I'm really good at hide and seek."

"No hide and seek today. Get up."

The fingers positioned on her hip begin to softly stroke her skin and he wonders how long it will take to break her.

"But I don't wanna gooooo."

"You know what House?" She reaches up and smoothes back some of his untamed hair, her fingers twisting gently in the short strands, causing his eyes to open slightly and allowing him to catch her playful smile. "You can't always get what you want."