A/N: In response to a review: Yes, I saw the House/Wilson video for the song 'One Week' on YouTube. Isn't it great? I totally forgot to credit that video for being part of the inspiration for this story. If you haven't seen the video, go check it out. It's brillant. Seeing Wilson angry makes my day, it's so amusing most of the time.

Thanks for everyone else who reviewed. I appreciate it a lot!

Wednesday:

The clock had just flipped to 12:01 when the apartment door slammed. Maybe, just maybe, calling Julie hadn't been the greatest idea.

I decide the best course of action is to lay very very still. I pull the covers over my head and try not to breathe. I hear Wilson's stomps come closer until he's in the bedroom.

"I know you're not sleeping. Get up so I can yell at you!!" Wilson screams.

"Yeah, that's great motivation. Next, tell me how you're gonna kick the crap out of me. That will really make me do what you want." I mutter sarcastically from beneath the blankets.

"Get up!" Wilson yells, pulling the blankets away roughly.

I sit up. "What? You can't yell at me unless I'm sitting up?" I'm not really sure why I'm yelling, except for the fact that Wilson's yelling. At least this time I know why he's angry.

Wilson looks stunned for a moment and I start to lay back down, thinking I've somehow one.

"She's my ex-wife!!" Wilson yells.

I sit back up. "And?"

"AND... she's my EX-WIFE!!"

"Yes, I know who she is."

Wilson sighs and starts pacing the room, waving his arms dramatically as he goes. "What made you think... what possibly could have possibly been going through your head... what... why... UGH!!!!" Wilson turns to me. "Why did you call Julie?"

I shrug. Because I really don't have a better answer.

"So it was just some whim? You were just thinking, 'Let's call my boyfriend's ex-wife and cause trouble! It'll be a hoot. Fun and games for all!'"

I smile when I hear 'my boyfriend.' It's not often that we say that word in relation to our situation.

"And your smiling..." Wilson sounds defeated.

"Sorry. You were saying... fun and games for all?" I gestured for him to continue his rant.

He sits down on the chair. I think I've broken him. He's looking down and I frown. Maybe I've gone too far. But how will I ever know the limits unless I test them? "So... Did Julie have anything interesting to say?" I ask, just to see if I can get a reaction from him.

Wilson jumps up. "She told me that there are lots of places I can go to get 'help'"

"Help?" I ask innocently. Trying to control my laughter. The look on Wilson's face is priceless, and the way he jumped up... it's like I pulled a string on a toy.

"Don't act like you don't know!" Wilson yells, pointing at me accusingly. "You told her that I was a drug addict! She wouldn't believe me when I told her I wasn't. She said it explained a lot actually. Why I was so absent. Why I would come home late every night. Why I would zone out while I was talking to her."

"Well, your drug abuse would explain those things..." I say, almost choking on my laughter.

"My drug abuse... You're really sick, you know that. You're the one with the drug problem... not me!! Why tell her that? Why tell her that I was ready to get help and go back to her?"

"Well, it was either a lie, or tell her the truth."

"What truth?" Wilson's anger dissolves momentarily into a look of curiosity.

"That your marriage fell apart because you were sleeping with me the entire time... that would have gotten her angry, and maybe she would have yelled for an hour..."

"But you thought a 4 hour lecture about my 'behaviour' would be more appropriate? I'm still not understanding the logic behind it. I suffer and... Never mind. I don't care anymore. I just don't care!" Wilson storms out.

I sit there stunned for a moment. Not that I really knew how this would play out when I called Julie. Damn, this was as bad as my 'drown Wilson in cancer patients' idea. Maybe I should have ran this one past the team. I'll just have to repress this whole day, I can't have a failed plan on my mind. It would get in the way of my 'I'm brilliant and do no wrong' system of belief. I wander down the hall to check on Wilson.

I find him curled on the couch with a blanket.

"Go away, House."

I don't move. I can't think of what to say.

"Go to your room."

I turn, feeling like I'm being grounded. I curl up in my empty bed. Maybe in the morning Wilson will forgive me.

The alarm clock goes off way too early for my liking. I reach blindly until I feel a medicine bottle in my hand. I shake it and it sounds sort of... empty. I open my eyes and see one pill sitting at the bottom of the bottle. Weird, I thought I had more than that. I swallow the pill. I guess I'll have to go to work to get more.

Wilson is long gone but the smell of pancakes still lingers in the air. It makes me sad. I guess Wilson hasn't forgiven me yet.

By time I get to work, my leg is really bothering me. The problem is, I can't find my Vicodin. I mean none. There's none in my desk. None in any of my usual hiding places.

I'm frantically looking around the conference room and I hear a small chuckle. I glance up and see Wilson standing in the doorway. "Lose something?" He asks, casually.

I'm left speechless. Wilson has a smirk on his face as he turns and walks away. It hits me in a weird place in my chest and it hurts more than the pain in my leg. Is this what Wilson feels when I give him that look?

I grit my teeth as I stand up. I don't care. If Wilson doesn't care, then neither do I. I'm cursing his name a few hours later. I wish I had never met him. I'm ready to go home and throw all of his things out of MY apartment. I can't seem to find my team anywhere. Not that I really looked too hard for them. I'm not in the mood for the 'House has a drug problem' debate, and I'm not looking to beg them for Vicodin.

I make my way to Cuddy's office. I burst in as usual without any regard for the other person sitting in the office. "Look, I'm not in the mood for the usually banter. Let's just imagine I made the obligatory remark about your breasts and..." Everything goes still as the person sitting on the other side of Cuddy's desk looks at me. She gives a weak smile and I lose my train of thought.

"You look like hell. What happened?" Cuddy asks.

"Lover's quarrel." I say. I finally break eye contact with the last person I needed to see at the moment and look at Cuddy. "I need a script for Vicodin."

"What happened?"

"I broke his favourite toy so he took away mines..."

Cuddy waved her hand so I would stop my analogy. She opens her desk drawer and pulls out her prescription pad. "I said I was supportive of your lifestyle as long as it doesn't interfere with your work here..."

"I'll be fine..." I say softly and Cuddy looks surprised. She gives me a questioning look and I feel embarrassed for sounding so vulnerable. I try to act like myself again. "Thanks, boss. You look less desperate than usual today." I say as I walk out with my prescription.

I slam the prescription on the pharmacy counter. "Fill it up."

The pharmacist rolls his eyes and I release the breathe I didn't know I was holding.

"Hey, Greg." A voice from behind says.

I close my eyes. "Not now. I'm not properly medicated."

"Please. I haven't seen you look so... since... I'm worried." She gently touched my arm and I backed away.

"He called you, didn't he? Did he tell you that I'm a crack addict now? Or did he just ask you to dress nice and walk around here, hoping I would see you?"

"What? Who?" Stacy looks hurt and confused.

"Wilson... He..." I'm distracted by the full medicine bottle dropping on the counter in front of me. I pop two pills.

"I'm here because my niece is looking at colleges. She's interested in going into medicine so I was asking Lisa if she would talk to her. Maybe give her a tour or something..."

"Stacy. I didn't know you were here. How are...?" The question dies off as Wilson glances at me.

"Well played. I love the look of surprise. Very convincing." I comment.

"I'll talk to you later." Wilson says to Stacy. I notice him stop and look back at us. He looks concerned.

"I heard that... Good for you guys..." Stacy says awkwardly.

"Yeah, don't be too happy. I'm not sure it's going to last."

"Greg..." She seems to be searching for the right words.

"Look... I hope your niece doesn't get too scared talking to Cuddy."

Stacy nods. She kisses my cheek. "Call me if you need anything." She says softly.

I give a weak smile. "We both know I won't."

I'm miserable when I get home. I just sit on the couch and wait for the Vicodin to reach the optimal level of numbness. I tense when I hear the door open and close.

Wilson walks in quietly. I glance over the back of the couch to see him walk in looking like a wounded puppy. I lay back down.

Wilson comes closer and I pull away when he kneels next to the couch and brushes his fingers against my arm. He sighs and stands up. He sets a paper bag on my chest. He moves to walk away but pauses. "I swear, Greg. I didn't call her. I wouldn't..." He sighs and walks away.

I wait until I hear the bedroom door closes before looking in the bag. It's full of medicine bottles filled with my missing stash. I believe Wilson didn't call Stacy. I'm just not ready to let go of my anger yet. I fall into a restless sleep, hugging the bag of pills close to my chest.