Summary: Second person point of view. Chase is in House's office late one night and he overhears a private conversation.

Pairings: Implied House/Wilson.

Category: Drama

Timeline: Pre-series.

Rated: K+

The Beginning is the End is the Beginning

You wonder sometimes why you do these things.

When you were a child, a teen, you took great pleasure in doing all the things you knew you weren't supposed to do. Anyone who ever caught on to the things you did, brushed it all aside as the behavior of a typical teenager.

Boys will be boys, they'd said, and you'd nodded, apologized and walked away so you could smoke in private.

You knew it was more than adolescent angst flaring up inside of you. You needed to push boundaries, you needed to feel your way around every given situation, you needed to know exactly what you could get away with.

And to this day that remains the truth. You're no longer a boy, and this is now a personality quirk. It's why you're in your boss's office at three thirty in the morning using his computer.

You needed a computer – as your home one picked last night to crap out on you – and you knew House had one. You'd seen the man leave his office at five that afternoon. You knew you'd be alone.

So you sit in House's office doing continual research for an article you want to have published by this Christmas.

By now, you knew what House would let you get away with in the context of your day-to-day job. And you almost wish that he'd make a surprise appearance in his office so he would catch you here now.

You wanted to know how far you could push him.

Be careful what you wish for…

Not ten minutes later you hear a door open. You panic at first; jump up from your seat in his chair and quickly turn the computer monitor off. You're shoving things into your briefcase before you focus enough to realize where the sound came from.

The door to the conference room are being pushed open. You move to the side of the wall by the door and stand against that wall as still as you can. Since the light from the computer had been extinguished you're cloaked in darkness.

So you listen.

"You really didn't have to wait." You hear James Wilson's voice and you're not sure whether to be relived or doubly nervous.

On one hand, House catching you in here with Wilson present might make it a little easier on you. On the other hand, Wilson might be just as appalled by your lack of respect for your boss as your actual boss will be.

House's voice is tired and thick but audible all the same. "I fell asleep. I didn't mean to wait."

"Gee, thanks." The Oncologist barked a laugh and you hear House mumble something that you can't quite make out.

There were some shuffling sounds and a loud banging and you're holding your breath because, what if they decide to come in here? There'd be no way to hide what you'd been doing. That you'd been spying.

"God, Greg," Wilson's voice is quiet and concerned and you start slightly when you hear the first name. You've been working here five months and so far no one has called House by his first name in your presence.

You forget what it is from time to time, because it's just that irrelevant.

"You look like crap."

"Thanks, Jimmy," House's tone was familiarly sarcastic but you hear something else in that deep voice that you've never heard before. "You know its comments like that that'll get you laid."

Had anyone else heard that comment out of context they would have just written it off as House being House. But you couldn't, because you were right there. You couldn't see them, couldn't risk your shadow peaking out from your hiding place and giving you away, but you could hear them.

Your employer's voice was low and husky and almost affectionate. You didn't think House was capable of affection, but now that you've heard it, you can't remember why you'd ever thought that.

Wilson responded with a weary sigh. "We should go home. You're grumpy."

"I'm always grumpy." This was exactly what you'd been thinking, so that was kind of cool.

"No," You could hear the fondness in the Oncologist's voice. Fondness and affection. You think maybe that you'd figured it out. "You pretend to be grumpy."

"Do not." Your boss sounds so remarkably like a child that you have to smile. You knew you liked this man for a reason.

"Do to. And shut up and put your coat on." There's a shuffling and you could only assume that House was following the order. "Why'd we come back in here anyway?"

Moments of silence passed before Wilson made an 'ahh' sound. You could only guess what nonverbal exchanges must have just taken place. "Great then, let's go. We're lucky as hell it's Friday. No way are we waking up tomorrow morning."

"Yeah," House snorted in response. "And we can spend tomorrow afternoon doing the things we're too old and tired to do tonight."

You wanted to be shocked at what that implied, but you just couldn't be. You'd seen it coming. For the last ten minutes and for the last four and a half months. You were more perceptive than everyone – except House – gave you credit for.

"Bonnie wants to go out to dinner tomorrow night, try to work on our relationship." You hear the regret and fear lingering in your boss's friend's voice and you remember that Bonnie was Wilson's wife's name.

You wonder briefly how you could have forgotten that.

"Jimmy," House sighed and sounded deeply tired when he spoke again. "This is getting old. You've got to make a damn decision already."

"You never made a decision when it was Stacy." Wilson snapped and you're only vaguely curious as to who Stacy was.

"That's irrelevant." And that was how fast House could go from tired and affectionate to angry and hostile. You make a mental note to never piss your boss off too much.

"I'm sorry, Greg." Wilson sighed and you find yourself holding your breath in anticipation. "I can't leave her. She needs me."

"What if I said I needed you too?"

So much silence thickened between the two older doctors that you can't even bring yourself to think anything. You're a part of their silence now, a part of this moment.

"I…" Wilson's voice trailed off, you hear House's cane shift – that's how quiet it is. "I don't know."

You glance at the clock in your boss's office and start counting along with the ticks it emits. Its one minute and fifty-four seconds later before you hear another sound.

"Go home, Wilson." House's voice was hard and cold, you're heart hurts a little for him, and you don't examine why. "Go have sex with your wife. We can't do this anymore."

"Greg…" you hear tears in that word, you want to stop the destruction occurring just outside your line of vision. You want to fix it. You want the world to be a fair place where deserving people got what they deserved and nothing was unjust.

You wanted a fairy tale.

But you knew those didn't exist and you don't think you've ever hated that more than you do in this moment.

"Goodnight, Wilson." There were footsteps and you hear the third steady thump that meant House was leaving. The door opened and closed and you wanted to move out of the shadows and yell at James Wilson.

You want to tell him to go after House. That whatever it was that they had made the older man happy – and happy was something you didn't think House could ever have. You wanted to play God.

But you'd learned long ago that there was no God. And even if you weren't entirely sure about that a lot of the time – you still knew that you weren't any kind of God, no matter how badly you wanted to fix this.

"Bye, Greg." You barely hear Wilson's mumbled words, but you do hear them, and your heart hurts even more.

Then there are more footsteps and the door opens and closes again.

You're alone again.

Numbly you move away from the wall, go back to House's desk and gather your things, turn the computer monitor back on, close out what you'd been doing, before turning the device off.

You can't think about what you just heard. It isn't your place to know these things and you now regret coming to House's office tonight.

You shouldn't have pushed this. But you had and you knew the limits now. You'd never come to House's office late at night without his being aware of it ever again. You would never invade his privacy. Because now you knew something that no one was supposed to know.

And if you had just minded your own damn business, you wouldn't be feeling this pain. You wouldn't have this added layer of information.

You would never be able to look at your boss the same way again, after tonight, but maybe that was just a little okay.

You'd been starting to think – before tonight – that House could feel no real emotions. Now you knew he could, and he did. That he cared. That there was pain and a girl named Stacy and a huge secret he was keeping from everyone.

Because now these were your secrets too.

You don't realize your crying until your outside in the cold and the tears freeze in place on your cheeks.

Fin.