House reached over and grabbed the other half of Wilson's ham and cheese sandwich that was lying on the oncologist's desk. No one would disturb them in here.

"So, where's that paperwork?" House questioned, raising an eyebrow at Wilson.

Wilson looked confused at first, until it dawned on him. "Oh, uh… I, um…"

House grinned. "Thanks." It was a whispered word, but it was said nonetheless.

Coming from House, it was a big compliment. House was, to say the least, not a generous or thankful person. Wilson knew how much that one small word meant. He also knew he'd better not point that out. He wanted to stay as close to the older doctor as humanly possible. Sometimes, even inhumanly possible.

After the events of the previous night, he knew he could never ever leave again, even if he wanted to. Wilson showed his true emotions plainly on his handsome face. But House… House was an enigma. Sure, Wilson knew many things about the doctor that no one else knew. But he still had yet to crack the code that was House.

Wilson's heart had broken in two when he'd seen House in that cold hospital bed, wires connecting him to a number of machines. House's face had been wearied and worn with sorrow. Wilson knew that House knew exactly what he had felt then, and now. But what was House feeling?

"House, as much as I know you absolutely HATE hearing these words, we need to talk."

Wilson knew the response he would inevitably get. "There's nothing to talk about, Wilson. You're back, I'm conscious, and my patient's only half dead."

Wilson took a deep breath and began. "There are so many things I want to ask you… I doubt you'll answer even one, but I have to know, House. So many…" His voice faded.

Silence. Wilson had expected House to object or walk out. But the diagnostician simply sat on the couch, looking out the window, watching the beautiful snowflakes drift ever downwards. He looked so peaceful. He seemed at peace, at least for the moment. It probably wouldn't last long once the questions started.

"Why did you try to… to… um, kill yourself?"

Wilson let House take his time in answering. If he wanted an answer, he would have to wait. And he was fine with that. Patience was a virtue one perfected when they spent as much time around House as Wilson did.

Minutes passed as the two doctors, the two friends, sat, gazing at snowfall, descending, spinning, onto the banks below.

Without turning, House answered.