Bathtime

'One mL per minute' Wilson thought as he looked down at the collecting bag of the urinary catheter. There was at least 400 mL, which was a good number for a solid seven hours of sleep. It also explained House's relief when the urine began to drain and spelled good news since House was able to hold that amount until Wilson got him to the bathroom. He would have to keep an eye out, but Wilson was sure that House would be able to go on his own soon, as long as he was reminded.

"All done?" Wilson asked in a kind of sing song voice. House looked at a spot on the floor. "Deep breath," Wilson said as he pulled the catheter out. House barely had time to grunt before Wilson was finished.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Wilson said, discarding the kit and materials, before turning the water on in the bathtub. He made sure that it was at a good, warm temperature before turning back to House. "Arms up," Wilson said, and House responded, lifting his arms chest high. Wilson pulled House's t-shirt off and pulled his pants off from where they laid around his ankles.

Wilson checked the temperature of the tub and threw in some kid's bubble bath before turning off the water. The small bubbles appeared as a thin cover on the line of water. He helped House to his feet and then together they made a slow turn so Wilson could help House step into the bath. His left foot in, House's body went stiff.

"They would take me sometimes," House said. His body still weak, he was leaning against a large pillow on the couch that began to slide. Wilson instinctually stood to fix it, but House held out a hand. The catatonia had ended two weeks ago, and while House was conscious, he still had trouble moving with his impaired muscles and tendons. However, being House, he wasn't likely to let Wilson help if he thought he could do it himself. This often ended in frustration, but Wilson was just happy to see him try.

House fixed the pillow so that it was a little higher and Wilson sat down. Taking a moment to turn again, House started, "They would take me from my cell, into the hall…" House turned for a second and Wilson found a convenient spot on the floor to analyze.

"The water was so cool, it hits you… and you feel like you're drowning…" House said and then took a deep breath. "I'm sorry about the whole-washing-hands thing," House said finally. Wilson smiled rubbing his right cheek.

"It's ok, you have a hell of a left hook," Wilson laughed and House smiled.

"It's ok, I'll be right here," Wilson said softly as he helped House pull his right foot into the tub. Slowly, they sank down, House in the water, Wilson outside. House remained stiff as Wilson took the washcloth from the edge and dipped it into the water, washing House's upper body. First his neck and chest, then his back and shoulders.

"Here," Wilson said taking House's left hand in his and placing the washcloth in it. "You wash below the belt," Wilson said with confidence. He had done this the last couple of days, convinced that if he sounded sure, House would believe he could do it too. House's hand fell back into the water, the washcloth with it. Wilson sighed.

"Come on buddy," Wilson said, reaching down into the water to retrieve the cloth. "You don't want me to do it," Wilson said, taking House's left hand again. Wilson wondered silently if it was the hand, if House had been unable or unwilling to try to perform tasks with his left hand. But that couldn't be true. House had begun to feed himself with his left hand, after some coaxing.

Maybe the task was too difficult, but Wilson didn't think so. Maybe House was angry that they had taken his right hand. In that case, it would make sense that he would want to punish, but having Wilson wash him seemed more of a punishment for House than it did for Wilson.

"Just try," Wilson said, placing the washcloth in House's hand again. This time, House did not drop the cloth immediately. Instead, he grabbed the cloth as best as he could and began to wash his leg, small movements back and forth, back and forth. A look of frustration was clear behind his clouded eyes. At least he was trying, that was an improvement.

"There you go!" Wilson said with a little bit more enthusiasm than he had intended. House dropped the washcloth and looked at the wall in front of him, frozen. "I'm sorry," Wilson said, "I didn't mean to scare you," Wilson said in a whisper. "That was a great job," Wilson said and picked up the washcloth again.

"Want to try that again?" Wilson asked, but House didn't move. Wilson sighed. So close. "Ok, maybe later," Wilson said and began to wash the rest of House's body, humming lightly, trying to keep the mood upbeat. The line of bubbles served as a line of privacy for House, and even as Wilson washed House below his waist, he had sure to keep the curtain of bubbles intact. Careful not to disturb any scars or wounds, Wilson finished just as the water was beginning to cool.