A/N: Okay. It's been awhile. I know that, and I apologise :) Forgive me? Please?
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His doctor said that he should hopefully re-gain his memory. 'Things take time,' he'd said, in that all-knowing voice Wilson had learned to hate. His mother had visited him yesterday, and he felt guilty when he wished she hadn't. She had cried, moaned and despaired of her beloved son, but seeing her made him remember his childhood.
"Jimmy? Oh, Jimmy!" Age did nothing for her previous beauty, but her eyes were kind and Wilson smiled. He knew who she was.
"Mum?" And she burst into tears after collapsing into the chair next to his bed. She held his hand with a vice-like grip, and Wilson examined her face. Laughter lines graced her delicate features which were marred with worry and sadness. He almost hated himself for not realising how much...pain he could cause another person.
"I - I brought some photographs," she said, opening her large (and tattered) handbag which once contained nappies and bottles. "The doctor said that they might help." Wilson held the photographs in his hands, touching each of the faces with his finger. Emotions rushed up inside him and he struggled to control them. His mother watched him, hope glittering in her brown eyes, so similar to his own.
"That's the swing," he said in wonderment. "I fell off it after..." She smiled.
"I told Danny not to push you so high," she said. "But he never listened to me." Danny...his older brother. Wilson inhaled deeply. He hadn't seen Danny for years. Quickly, he picked out another photograph.
"My fifth birthday party."
"Yes. Yes. Oh, darling!" She pulled him into a hug and he relaxed in her arms, breathing her scent of home.
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House lay on the floor of his office, his headphones on. Drowning out the world with music.
"House!" Cuddy stood glaring down at him. "House!" He rolled his eyes and took off the headphones.
"Busy here." She frowned.
"You saw him."
"Mm-hmm."
"You took his rubbish bin." House looked pointedly at the ceiling. "House! Wilson is your friend. One of the few people who can tolerate you. Why is so hard for you to understand that?" When he didn't answer, Cuddy sighed and sat down on his chair. She too had heard the general opinion of the hospital. Wilson is better off without him was whispered through all the corridors. Wilson was liked as much as House was hated. "Don't listen to them." Again, House was silent. The two doctors sat in the office for a few moments before Cuddy stood up.
"He doesn't remember me," said House quietly. "I can't - I'm not -" He struggled to find the words he wanted. "I'm not like him. I don't know how to fix people. Make it all better."
"How do you know he doesn't remember you?"
"Because - because maybe he doesn't want to." He spat the words out. "I'm not good at the friend-thing. I chase people away." Stacy's name hung unspoken in the thick air.
"He stood by you, House," said Cuddy gently. "Talk to him. Please." And she left the room, hoping that she wasn't going to lose two of her best doctors - and friends - within the short time of a month.