When they got in the car, Wilson cranked the heat, realizing House was in an increasing amount of pain, given how he was rubbing his thigh, and that he was starting to shiver. He handed House his vicodin, which he took with a sigh of relief.
The ride home was markedly silent other than the two loud sneezes from House, a "bless you" from Wilson, and something that sounded "like that's what you get," muttered from Wilson under his breath. Wilson finally ended up relinquishing a tissue from his coat pocket, after listening to House sniffle more and more dramatically.
"Thanks." House said quietly.
Wilson glanced at House and was half way through an eye roll, when he stopped. House looked so vulnerable at this point and had opened up in such a way to him at this point, that he didn't want to risk pushing him away, not now.
"You ok?" Wilson asked.
House sniffled. "Yeah. I'll be all right after a shower and some, he paused to sneeze, coffee."
"Bless you."
"Thanks."
Wilson looked at House, and somehow he knew he didn't just mean for the blessing.
They finally arrived back at House's apartment, and both sat there, awkwardly, until they both began to speak at once.
"Do you want . . "
"Wanna come . . ."
That effectively broke the silence, and they both headed inside.