Wilson sat on one side of the couch, pretending to drink a beer. House was as far away from him as possible while still propping his feet up on the table. They both stared blankly at House's television and focused on not thinking.
Eventually, Wilson asked, "House, what do you believe in?"
House waited for the words to penetrate the deep state of meditation he had achieved, and then even longer for a response to form. "I don't."
"No, I know that you don't believe in God and all that. But… what do you have faith in?"
"I pray at the altar of material wealth and happiness."
"I'm being serious."
"How do you know that I'm not?"
"Well…" Wilson took a sip, tilting his head back to swallow before finishing. "Because you answered the question ironically."
"And you're now an expert on vocal tones and body language?"
"I'm a human being, if that's what you mean."
"Hm." House located the remote and turned up the volume, the matter having been settled.
Wilson, still looking at the television, took the remote and turned it back down. "I still want to know."
"Why do I have to believe in anything?" House said, turning his head to look at Wilson.
"Because you have to. No one makes it as a doctor without believing in something."
"Well, what do you believe in?"
"I actually have a religion to fall back on."
"I don't see you reading out of the Torah or debating about the Talmud, Mr. Judaism."
"I still have one."
"Doesn't mean you believe in it."
"Does so."
"Does not."
Wilson held up his hand , stopping their conversation from going nowhere. "What I mean is, what do you have faith in?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"Why don't you want to answer?"
"Because I'm pretty sure that you're a stalker or something at this point."
"I'm curious, okay? I'm your best and only friend. It's allowed."
"Well, what do you have faith in?"
"I'll tell you if you tell me first."
House shrugged, looking stubbornly forward again. "You want a list of my philosophies? Fine. Everybody lies, that's one that you can't argue with. It's always the butler. There's always dust in the attic, no matter how many times you clean it. Nine out of ten times, the exact opposite of what you want to happen will happen."
"No, I don't mean cynicism. I mean, what keeps you sane?"
"Aww. You think I'm sane? Flattery will get you everywhere."
"House."
House lay his head back on the couch, looking at the ceiling. "I have faith in… the indomitable spirit of humankind."
Wilson stared at him, mouth half-open. "Really?"
"Nope."
"House!"
"I suppose the kind of sappy answer you're looking for is that the people around me keep me sane. The people pushing me to be more sociable are keeping me from taking a hostage. Right?" He sneered when Wilson looked him in the eye. "That way, you can feel like you're helping."
"House, pretend for a moment that I'm not your friend out of charity or for an opportunity to stroke my ego."
"What do you want me to say?" House demanded.
"Whatever's the truth!"
"You want to know the truth? Myself. I only have faith in myself. Everything else may change, but I'm never going to, and that's the way it should be. The only thing that's keeping me sane is the faith that a great guy like Greg House isn't ever going to go not be sane. Alright?"
Wilson weighed the chances of another lie, and then laughed quietly. "No wonder you're lonely and miserable."
House slumped his shoulders and prepared for a sulk of epic proportions. Before he really hit his stride, though, Wilson spoke.
"And what I have faith in is the indomitable spirit of humankind."
Grudgingly, House acknowledged that this was probably true.
Wilson watched some woman on the television slap a man that didn't love her. He sighed, "Not really."
House refused to look over at him.
"Whenever a patient dies or comes out of remission, I seek refuge, you could say, in the friendship and bonds that I have. The people I love." He shook his head and took another sip of the beer. "If you can understand something like that."
They sat in silence, a pale imitation of the television-induced stupor.
Eventually, House asked, "Why'd you want to know, anyway?"
Wilson smiled tightly. "Because a patient of mine died today." He shrugged and looked at House. "And I knew that you would never tell me if I wasn't your friend."
Yeah, I know. Where's the love? Well, this is what happened when I decided to write a conversation about faith. Things got away from me...