It became their daily routine. Wilson took to watching the clock tick to five, which was when House would arrive without fail. They had developed an uneasy relationship, not quite friendship, not quite strangers. They were acquaintances, to say the very least. If House had his way, they would not speak at all. But in between General Hospital re-runs and Monster Truck recordings, Wilson squeezed out bits of his old self from the man with the blue eyes.
"Was I a morning person?"
"Unfortunately," came the short answer. House shoved a couple of crisps into his mouth, munching noisily.
"What was my favourite food?"
"Pizza." Wilson frowned. That didn't sound like him. Or at least, that didn't sound like the him that he thought he knew. House looked at the man out of the corner of his eye. "Well, it was the food you ate the most anyway." That was better.
"My first...love?"
"How am I supposed to know? Some poor kid you tormented in playgroup, probably. You always did have an abnormally large sex-drive," smirked House.
"Was I really a bad husband?" This had been tormenting him ever since Julie had been to see him. House cocked his head to one side thoughtfully, twirling his cane dangerously close to Wilson's face.
"Hopeless," he finally answered. Wilson looked crushed and House felt an unusual swell of pity for the man. "You always meant well."
"That's not the same, House."
"Well, you did," House said determinedly. Wilson massaged his temple.
"I cheated on my wife!"
"Wives," corrected House. "Plural." Wilson groaned.
"I'm a bad person."
"Don't go all drippy on me now, we were just getting to a good part!" House sighed and switched off the television. "You never meant to hurt any of them."
"But I did."
"You always told them."
"Does that make it better?"
"No," replied House. "But it should. No one's perfect."
"Except you, right?" Wilson said, half-smiling.
"No need to state the obvious."