Wilson's Turn

End of chapter 4:

They got quiet again and House was watching the TV when Wilson started thinking out loud.

"What am I going to do?"

"About what?"

"What am I going to do with just one leg?"

Chapter 5

"You cut me down to size and opened my eyes

Made me realize what I could not see."

- Swallowed by the sea, Coldplay

Part 1

When Wilson uttered those words, it brought many memories back for House. Back to the reasons why he fought for his leg and how he ended up how he is today. He was watching the television show, now he was staring, eyes glazed over in thought and Wilson could tell.

"House, I asked you a question. You have to be open with me too."

"I don't know what to tell you."

"Why did you fight so hard to keep your leg?"

It was a question he had asked himself time and time again. Stacy said that it was just a damn leg and he said that he couldn't cut it off. He said, my leg, my life.

"Now I question myself over and over about why I fought so hard and got screwed anyways. It could be said that I defined myself by the actions I could do. I was the athletic one, the smart one. I was only as good as my actions were. I thought that if I lost my leg my life would change and I would be pitied or something and become oh that's Greg he's got a fake leg. I thought that I needed it to be me."

"And now?"

"Now life is different anyways. I have come to the conclusion that I don't need people to be me; I don't need anything to be me. But me, is pretty miserable."

"That's a whole other discussion."

"I know….so what about you, what do you think?"

"I don't know what to think."

"How do you define yourself?"

Wilson stayed quiet and this was getting harder and harder for House. He wasn't good at playing the friend, he had just told Wilson a ton of information that no one else knew and he decided to get quiet about himself. House had had enough.

"You are unbelievable." Wilson was taken aback, that was always his line, not House's. "I just tell you a huge moment and thought about my life and you reply with some I don't know and silence. I'm trying here, being a friend and a good friend isn't easy for me and you keep me in the dark. I don't like being in the dark about what's going on with you. I open up and you shut down. We aren't role playing to be each other here. We have to be ourselves, a version of ourselves that we haven't seen of each other. That's how a friendship works. You told me that, take your own advice. Please."

"Now you know how I feel. You always keep me in the dark until you can't find anyone else to help you. You know I'll help and you just wait until I'm absolutely needed. Why don't you talk to me? Tell me how your day went, or how Foreman pissed you off or anything. A 'the pain's bad today' or 'Cuddy's shirt is hot today' anything. Let me know how you feel sometimes instead of being dark and mysterious. That might work for picking up a girl, but not for being a friend."

"So what is this? A game to teach House how it feels to be an ass? I already know how it feels. I understand I'm the worst friend, yet we still are friends. I'm trying here, will you help me out?"

"No. I'm not going to help you. I'm the one who needs the help tonight. When you're yourself I have to help myself. You try it tonight."

Wilson left the room and went to his bedroom. House sat there in silence and mulled over what just happened. They had switched roles. House needed to help Wilson and Wilson was being secretive. "Man, I really am a difficult person to be friend's with. Knowing how I act towards Wilson and the crap he puts up with, he's a better friend than I give him credit for. He does need my help, and help I must give."

Part 2

House started to give the best help he knew how. He got on the computer and started doing research. He wasn't going to let them take his leg. He had had enough trouble with the leg he had, there had to be a way to let Wilson keep his and keep on living like he should. When House starts to get emotional he doesn't know how to deal with it and either does one of two things. He drinks or works harder than he does daily. Tonight he was going to do both.

Retrieving a beer out of the fridge he sat down and started in on a long night of work. Searching journals and text books he was looking for any alternative for fighting Osteosarcoma that didn't involve amputation. After three to four hours of searching, skimming and reading he finally got what he wanted. Making a phone call to Wilson's doc, he confirmed that his idea would work. He had to go talk to Wilson, even if Wilson hated him tonight. Walking into Wilson's room he found Jimmy in pain. House hadn't seen this side of the spectrum yet. He was always the one in pain; Wilson was the one who fixed it. Bone pain and muscle pain were two different things, and House had to think on his toes about how to help his friend. He returned to his room with an ice pack and some Vicodin. Wilson didn't see him approach the room the first time; he was in too much pain to look up. House sat next to him on the bed and applied the ice while talking softly.

"Why didn't you yell for me? I would have helped earlier you know."

"Didn't want to bother you. Figured you were asleep and would get pissed if I woke you."

"Well, don't be afraid of my pissy moods, you've seen them and you can fight them. Now I need a number."

"7 or an 8."

"You're a moron. I always have Vicodin and you sit here in your pain in the silence."

He made sure the ice was in the right spot, which was right where he hoped Wilson would need it. In the middle of his shin, perfect for his plan he found on the internet.

"I came in to tell you the news. I know how you can keep your leg."

"Really?"

"Yes."

Just then the pain got too great for him and he doubled over again, grasping his leg and trying not to yell out.

"James, what is it?"

"The Vicodin's not kicking in, pains…bad."

House knew that he would probably pass out from the pain if he didn't do something and soon. The cancer was probably weakening his bone even more as time progressed, so House made a decision.

"Wilson, we're going to the hospital. Now. No arguments."

It felt weird for House to be commanding Wilson; it was usually the other way around. It was comforting for both to see that they could take care of each other and act in each other's best interest. That's what you want in a medical proxy. With House's announcement Wilson tried to stand, but couldn't swing his legs over the bed. The only thing left to do was for House to pull up the car and carry James. What are friends for?