Sorry once again for being bad on my updates, but I haven't had any ideas for my old stories. I don't even know how well this one is going to turn out.

"Hidden From Light"

Chapter 10

Wilson sat at his desk with his head resting in his hands; it was late, almost time to call it a night. The hospital went silent, and has been for awhile now, the lights had been dimmed to their night level and most of the patients were sleeping in their rooms except for the occasional one roaming the halls.

His mind had been a crap shoot all day, useless, and running over everything at a hundred miles an hour. He had lost nearly everything, and he was creeping ever so close to losing House. He is the one thing Wilson could never bear to loose. He said to House once himself after he resigned in the midst of the Vogler's reign.

"I only have 2 things in my life. This job, and this stupid screwed up friendship"

As screwed up as it was, it is an amazing friendship. House has let very few into his world, he can leave you wondering why you even talk to him at all, but occasionally you get to see the snatches of him that keep you hooked.

He was jarred out of his thoughts by his ringing cell phone, 'How long has that been there?' He thought and then picked it up, staring briefly at the caller ID, it was Cuddy.

"Hello" He mumbled tiredly into the phone

"Hey Wilson, it's Cuddy."

"I know I saw the caller ID" he about smacked himself, maybe House was rubbing off on him too much. "Sorry, I didn't mean it, it's late and I'm tired."

"I need your help. House ended up in spasm after a late night 'let's-see-how-macho-I-can-be' contest. I gave him something, be he's out cold. I don't think I can lift him myself, can you come over and spare a hand?"

"Sure, I was about to leave anyway. I'll see you in about ten minutes" Wilson flipped the phone closed with a resounding 'click' and began to shoveling his things into the briefcase before grabbing his coat and flipping off the light. A song suddenly popped into his head 'We're off to see the Wizard, the wonderful Wizard of Oz…' He sat in the leather seat of his car, it was freezing cold, and he took a moment to adjust before driving

off.

He just used the spare key to enter instead of knocking. Cuddy was sitting by his side on the kitchen floor stroking his brown hair and muttering soft reassurances to him the Wilson entered the door way.

"What happened?" he asked

"He got out of bed when I was asleep and went to get a glass of water. I guess it was more than he could handle because he went down quick. He fell on top of the leg and couldn't get it out from under him, so I had to step in. He went into spasm after that." Cuddy pulled herself up to Wilson's level. "Now how are we gonna get him up and into bed?"

"Turn him around, you grab him under the armpits and I'll get his legs so they don't drag." After getting a good grip on him the makeshift parade made their way down the hall. They managed to get him settled in bed with a pillow propped under his knee so he didn't wake up stiff and in agony. Cuddy and Wilson retreated to the living room, leaving the bedroom door cracked so they could hear him if need be. Wilson plopped into the corner of the couch, sinking into the plush leather while Cuddy took the armchair off to the side.

"You know he agreed to go back to rehab?" Wilson's eyes grew wide "What you didn't think it was something he would do?"

Wilson shook his head "No, it's just though I'd never live to hear the words 'House' and 'agree' in the same sentence." Cuddy smiled.

"He actually didn't put up too much of a fight either." She took a deep breath and pushed a lock of her curly hair behind her ear "I guess we have all been denying how bad his pain has been getting."

"What do you mean?" Wilson asked. Did this mean that House actually opened up to some one? 'Oh joy, this ought to be good. Now I have something to blackmail him over' he thought.

"Remember that super model he treated?" Wilson nodded "He told me he fell that morning"

Wilson rubbed the back of his neck "It wouldn't surprise me the way he was moving that morning. The worst thing about it is, he won't tell anyone he's hurting. Not even me."

"Well actually, he did tell me. He came to me practically begging for morphine. I agreed with you, I thought it was psychological, I gave him saline instead…" she began to trail off nearly in tears.

"I would have probably did the same thing, so don't feel bad." He walked over and embraced her gently. "We all doubted him, and yet we let it go on like this. Just goes to show you who the people who are screwed up actually are."

"He is an incredibly brilliant man. Why was it so hard to trust him on what only he knows his own pain?"

"If anyone had the answer to that question, he wouldn't need us."