A/N: Thank you to all the reviewers! House's meeting with Wilson is coming up...but not yet.

"Go and see him," said Cuddy, glaring at House. She leaned forwards and House looked down her shirt pointedly. Slightly embarrassed, she stood up and folded her arms. She didn't know how to get around House the way Wilson could, and he knew it.

"What he can't remember he can't miss," said House, absently playing with a yellow yo-yo. "Or is it what-"

"House. He's stuck by you for so many years. Surely you owe him that?" Her face softened. He looked so forlorn. Like a lamb without its mother.

"He doesn't remember me," he snapped.

"What would he do if it was you lying there?" she snapped back sharply, cursing herself for having to sink so low. House didn't have to answer her. "Exactly. He's your best - and only - friend, House. Go and see him." She walked out of his office, closing the door softly behind her.

Cameron sat by the computer, idly checking her (empty since a few minutes ago) inbox. Out of the corner of her eye she could see House lying on the floor listening to some loud symphony. Cuddy had left almost an hour ago.

"Don't, Cameron." She looked up at Foreman who was suddenly standing next to her. "It's their problem."

"How'd you-"

"You are ridiculously predictable," he said with a smirk. "House will go on his own. Or not go at all. The latter probably suits Wilson more."

"How can you say that?" asked Cameron, slightly shocked. "They've been friends for so long-"

"Yeah, and where did it get Wilson anywhere?" said Chase, joining in. "He got fired!"

"He got his job back," Cameron said uncomfortably.

"He stuck up for House when he couldn't do one pathetic speech!" Foreman said, shaking his head.

"I bet half the reasons for his divorces-"

"He's been unfaithful, he's no saint," interuppted Cameron, standing up.

"No, he was probably at House's picking up the pieces." Cameron was silent.

"You really think Wilson's better off without him?" she said after a while. Foreman nodded.

"Yeah, I do." She turned to Chase, almost pleading.

"I don't know, All."

"He can't...he's so lonely, Robert."

"He was lonely before," said Foreman, stating the obvious. "He drags Wilson down every time." Cameron sighed and sat down again, resting her head on her hands.

"I just think-"

"Leave them be. If they were meant to be friends, then they'll stay friends," said Chase, feeling sorry for her. "You can't rush House. He's too bloody stubborn." The three young doctors watched their boss for a few minutes.

House kept his eyes determinedly fixed on the dull ceiling, refusing to let them see his tears.

Wilson was better off without him.

What was it his mother once told him? "The greatest love is sacrifice." Yes. He'd give that to Wilson at least. The only thing he'd ever been able to give.

"James." A woman in her early thirties with short dark hair cut into a stylish bob sat down by his bed. Wilson smiled at her. She sighed and took his hand.

"I'm...Julie, your ex-wife." Wilson looked at her and squinted his eyes. He knew her. He did.

"Hi," he said roughly. Well, what did you say to a woman you love but can't remember? She stared at him for a moment, her face difficult to read. He had a small feeling that it had always been rather closed anyway.

"You really don't remember? Anything?" He shook his head. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all. He wondered how he had fallen in love with her. What she looked like when she slept. How she laughed. "Our last argument before...Oh, James, I feel so guilty." She began to cry without noticing, tears slipping down her cheeks. He wiped them away gently and she took out a tissue and blew her nose,shrinking away from his touch. Wilson felt like he had burned her.

"I'm sorry," he said contritely, figuring that an apology would probably mean more than a question. She nodded and stood up, clutching her bag to her.

"I have to - I have to go." She hurried out of the room, running into someone she knew all too well.

"Julie," he said curtly. Julie glared at the man.

"If it hadn't been for you, none of this would have happened!" she hissed. "You - you -" She gave a little cry and ran down the corridor.

"Who's there?" called out Wilson, hearing the argument. House peered around the door at his friend, lying there on the crisp white sheets. Just one look wouldn't hurt, would it? He needed to see...to see Wilson. He looked a bit pale and upset (House noted that he had also lost some weight - not surprising, really) but otherwise he looked...well

"Janitor," he said easily. Wilson nodded, his face falling. "Just...emptying the rubbish bin." He limped in, grabbed the rubbish bin and left the room, his heart beating furiously. Hey - he'd seen Wilson. Talked to him too. Cuddy would have to live with that.

"Hey!" But House was already gone. "I...They emptied the bin a fewhours ago." Wilson sighed.

He knew that man from somewhere, like he had known that woman...

That limp.

Wilson struggled to remember before closing his eyes, exhausted.

Cuddy walked quickly down the corridor to Wilson's room, wondering for the fifth time that day why she wore heels. House could probably give her a dozen reasons, none of them particularly flattering. She looked surprised as House ran into her, carrying a rubbish bin.

"You saw him," she said, pleased. House looked into the empty bin.

"Yeah."

"And?" she pressed, wanting to jump up and down with joy. She had actually made House-

"I'm not going again," he mumbled, turning away from her. She watched him enter the elevator and press one of the buttons with his cane. He handed the bin to one of the janitors.

"Room 1082," he said. The janitor took it grudgingly as the doors closed. House gave Cuddy a cheery wave, not fooling anybody.