080. Why?

(This is a continuation of Shapes – you should read that one first.)

Remember

House had a lot of questions. While that wasn't anything particularly unusual, they didn't usually revolve so firmly around his best friend.

Why was Wilson acting so hurt? It was obvious that he was even though he was hiding rather well if you were anyone other than House.

Why was Wilson acting so skittish around him? Because he was, though again you probably had to be House to realise that.

Why was Wilson watching him so constantly? To be fair, he was doing it fairly unobtrusively but it was still a little disconcerting.

House was certain that all of this had something to do with what had happened during his little adventure into acute anticholinergic syndrome. Unfortunately he knew there was a fairly good chance he wouldn't remember what had happened beyond what he already had. And quite frankly what little he did remember was just…weird. He remembered the office changing colours and he remembered there had been something about shapes, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what was so important about the shapes.

He growled under his breath as he limped up to his office. He needed answers to his questions and he wasn't going to get them at home, which is actually where he should be right now. Cuddy had given him a week off, much to his utter disgust since after twenty-four hours on a saline drip he felt fine. Unfortunately Wilson had backed her up and he knew how to manipulate House much better than Cuddy did. He'd backed that manipulation up by insisting on staying with House…just in case. Which had then given House a front row seat to Wilson's half-hidden hurt, skittishness and constant watching.

This was why he'd snuck out of the apartment after Wilson had gone into work and why he was going to have to hope that his friend was safely tucked away doing paperwork. He wasn't really in the mood to have Wilson yell at him right now.

Right now there was no sign of him so he quickly limped into his office and from there, into the conference room where his team was sitting around the table, amusing themselves.

"Dr House! I thought you were supposed to be at home?" Cameron said with surprise that quickly modulated into concern.

"Shhhh!" House said with a scowl as he slumped down into one of the chairs. "Wilson's got sharp hearing when he is extra-caring mode. He's like the roof of the forest."

The three young doctors looked at him warily.

"Uh…" Chase began.

House rolled his eyes. "It's just a turn of phrase. Now shut up and concentrate. What did I say when I was all…weird?"

"You're asking us?" Cameron said dubiously.

"No, I've just dragged myself all the way in here because I miss you all so very, very much," House said sarcastically. "Answer the question."

"Uh, well, we weren't exactly in there for all of it," Foreman said with a shrug. "After we came in you talked about shapes. You said something about a Foreman-shape, a Chase-shape and a Cameron-shape then you said you were seeing pretty shapes. You said you took Dr Wilson's lunch and that you were thirsty. You…told us you taken a couple of Vicodin then I left to test your pills."

House eyed him narrowly then his gaze shifted to Cameron and Chase. "Either of you two got anything to add?"

"No," Cameron said and Chase also shook his head.

House scowled then levered himself to his feet and limped into his office. He slumped down into his chair and started slowly tapping his cane against the floor. Shapes. The shapes were important, he just couldn't remember why.

He stared at the wall and realised that now that his memory had been jogged he actually remembered talking about Foreman, Chase and Cameron-shapes. He'd talked about a Wilson-shape too. His eyes narrowed as he recalled thinking of the Wilson-shape being angry and then being corrected to worried.

He tossed his cane back and forth from hand to hand as he prodded his brain into remembering more. All of a sudden his eyes widened and he gasped. Worried Wilson-shape. He remembered saying that. But then he'd said more. He'd called Wilson pretty and then he'd said he loved Wilson. He groaned and let his forehead rest on the handle of his cane. Of all the things to do while stoned out of his brain, he had to confess to Wilson that he loved him. He wasn't sure if he was disturbed because he'd actually told Wilson or because he'd told him while affected by drugs and Wilson wouldn't believe him.

Well, he had his answer to his questions now. The only problem was the answer had raised more questions. Wilson being skittish around him could be explained if Wilson was freaked out by his admission but that wouldn't really explain the hurt looks or the watching thing. Nor would it explain why Wilson had volunteered to stay with him. If he was freaked then he'd be staying away. But did that mean what he wanted it to mean?

"What are you doing here?"

House started and swore then looked around to see Wilson standing in the doorway, hands on hips and glaring at him.

"I work here," House said somewhat defensively.

"Not this week," Wilson said adamantly. "You're meant to be at home resting. I know you don't have a patient right now so there's no reason for you to be here."

House looked away and tightened his grip on his cane. "I…needed some answers," he admitted reluctantly.

"What answers?" Wilson asked, coming fully into the office and letting the door close behind him.

House hesitated and shot a quick glance at his friend. "I needed to remember what I said because you've been acting weird."

"I've been acting weird? In what way?" Wilson said, crossing his arms across his chest.

"You've been…skittish," House said sharply. "And you've been giving me hurt looks and you're always watching me. Obviously I did something or said something and I didn't think you were going to tell me so I came in to ask them."

He gestured to the three doctors sitting out in the conference room. Wilson glanced over and saw that Chase, Foreman and Cameron were surreptitiously watching them both. Wilson's lips thinned and he quickly closed the blinds; he had no idea if House had actually remembered but either way he didn't want all of this to be on display.

"So what did they have to say?" he asked once he was done.

House had watched this with a raised eyebrow but he didn't protest. "Nothing important but it was enough."

"Really?" Wilson said, his voice tense.

House stared down at the floor. "If what I said was that objectionable to you, just forget about it. Blame it on the drugs," he said in a flat, unfriendly tone.

"You said you loved me," Wilson said challengingly.

"Yeah, so?" House said sullenly.

"Did you mean it?"

"Why? Why do you want to know?" House asked, his voice now completely expressionless.

Wilson stared at the man sitting hunched in the chair behind the desk for a long moment then he threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

"Because I love you, you idiot," he half-yelled. "And if what you said was just because you were…were high on the wrong drugs and you don't really feel that way then why the hell would I want to admit that to you?"

House's head shot up and he stared at Wilson. His eyes were wide as he tried to make himself accept he'd actually heard that properly. He hauled himself to his feet and lurched over to where Wilson was standing. The younger man was staring at the floor, looking utterly defeated and one hand was rubbing the back of his neck. He limped over until he was standing directly in front of Wilson.

"You love me?" he said curiously.

Wilson started then sighed and nodded.

"Cool," House said.

Wilson looked up with a surprised expression. "What?"

"I meant what I said," House said seriously. "It wasn't just the drugs. Okay, I probably wouldn't have said it without the drugs but it wasn't just the drugs. I meant it."

Wilson's jaw dropped slightly then he gave House a smile that almost literally took his breath away. House swallowed hard then limped the three steps required to close the gap between them. He then leaned forward and kissed Wilson.

Wilson was absolutely still for a moment then he moaned and returned the kiss for all he was worth, wrapping his arms around House fervently. When they finally separated, House let his forehead fall onto Wilson's shoulder and made a small noise of pleasure as Wilson began running a hand through his hair.

"I'm ready to go home now," he murmured, turning his head so that his lips were brushing Wilson's neck.

Wilson shivered and nodded. "Yeah, okay. I…I should come with you."

"Yeah," House said with a smile.