075. Prison
Caged
Sometimes House felt like he was living trapped in a prison of his own frailties. Trapped by his leg, his pain, his cane. Limited and restricted, only able to do so much and nothing more. Unable to walk without support, unable to run more than twenty feet without falling and even then paying a heavy price in pain. Trapped by his drug addiction, a cage of his own making to a large extent and one that he was unsure as to whether he wanted to escape or not.
The worst thing about this prison is that he knows what it is to live without it.
Some days his prison is unbearable and he lashes out, snarling and raging, driving everyone away so that he can lick his wounds in private. On those days only Wilson will venture near, ignoring the snarling and staying with him through it all, a silent, welcome presence, until he's ready to face the world again.
House doesn't know why Wilson stays; he can't understand it himself. He's rude, arrogant, sarcastic and generally uncaring of others' problems. He's ignored and belittled Wilson, dismissed his worries, cares and concerns before, he's even ignored Wilson when he'd wanted some consideration for his own problems.
He doesn't know why Wilson stays but he's absurdly grateful for it. And he won't question Wilson's motives or his own good fortune. Doing so might bring it all to an end…or worse, Wilson might actually tell him why and he's not sure he wants to know. He's prepared to let sleeping dogs lie on this one. After all, it's bad enough being trapped in his prison. He wouldn't want to do it alone.