Well, I've got a whole mew set of prompts to write fics for...over 250 in fact! Hope you enjoy them all.

001. Tired

Soothe

The alarm clock blared out into the early morning darkness in the bedroom. House tilted his head towards the offending noise and flung out a hand, smacking at the clock until he managed to turn it off. He left his arm draped across the bed and continued staring at the ceiling. He'd been doing the same thing all night and all the previous night as well and he was bone-tired. He tilted his head again and gazed dully at the bottle of pills on the bedside table and the cane leaning against it. He contemplated getting up for several minutes then cautiously rolled onto his side, facing away from the reminders of his disability. He closed his eyes and stared at the inside of his eyelids, trying to will himself to sleep.

He didn't know how long he'd been at that futile activity when he heard his phone start ringing in the living room. He opened his eyes for a moment then closed them again. He remained where he was through the persistent ringing of his home phone then his cell phone and finally the shrilling of his pager. Once all three fell silent, he sighed and shifted slightly, trying to settle himself comfortably enough to sleep.

"House?"

House gave a start at the quiet call and rolled onto his back with a resigned sigh. He hadn't heard the front door open. He opened his eyes and looked over towards the door apathetically.

"House?" Wilson said with concern when he came to the door.

He reached inside and flicked the light switch on. House groaned and flung one arm across his eyes but that was the sum of his response.

"House? What are you doing in bed?" Wilson asked, sounding like he was caught between surprise and annoyance. "Are you sick?"

"G'way," House mumbled as he rolled onto his side again, facing away from the door, his eyes closing again.

He heard Wilson walk towards him muttering under his breath.

"Why you can't just call in sick like a normal person is beyond me."

The bed dipped slightly when Wilson sat down then he felt a hand gently rest against his forehead then wrap around his wrist to check his pulse. It stayed there for a moment then Wilson sighed.

"Are you going to tell me what's wrong because your pulse is fine and you're not running a temperature?"

House was silent for a long moment. "Can't sleep," he finally murmured.

There was a long pause. "How long?" Wilson asked carefully.

"Couple of days," House replied, opening his eyes and rolling onto his back.

He saw Wilson wince and suspected he looked like he hadn't slept in two days. His wrist was still caught in Wilson's grip but he didn't say anything; it was strangely comforting.

"Why didn't you say something?" Wilson demanded.

"Hate sleeping pills," House muttered.

Wilson sighed and let go of House's wrist; House tried not to miss it.

"I don't know what else I can do," Wilson said quietly.

"Tired," House mumbled and he rolled onto his side again, facing Wilson and curled slightly around him.

"Yeah," Wilson said thoughtfully. "Maybe…"

His voice trailed off and House saw him reach out tentatively. When House didn't protest, Wilson continued moving, his hand coming to rest on House's head. He paused for a moment, eyeing House to see if there was any reaction, good or bad. When none was forthcoming, he began to gently card his fingers through House's hair.

House sighed and his eyes slid closed against the feeling of being petted in such a way. He hummed softly and a small smile drifted across his face. Slowly he felt himself relax and he crept one hand onto Wilson's leg as between one breath and the next, he fell asleep.