Hey Everyone! i'm glad you clicked on this story and gave it chance. Keep in mind that this will be updated IN A FEW DAYS so don't worry. Just please take into consideration the few details revealed in the first few chapters. Thank you :)

Wilson had always hated dreaming. Cheerful dreams gave him false hope and an empty feeling by the time he woke up. This, however was a much better thing to face during the first waking moments than the anxiety that flowed through his veins when recounting the hideously specific details of his nightmares, the most recent being about Chase. Maybe such a dream was triggered by the abrupt way their phone called ended last night. Maybe it was the way he had called the most social person in the hospital only to have three of his calls missed. He knew something was wrong, and his dark thoughts manifested its way into his dreams. He tried to shake off the vivid imagery that crawled his way back into his thoughts when trying to focus elsewhere. It wasn't the actual images that frightened him. It was the proximity of how close something like that was bound to happen. It was the probability of House actually hurting Chase that way. A harsh thing to think about his former friend, yes, but he wasn't going to deny it any longer.

Gregory House was a monster.


Wilson drove in his car with the windows down. Though the cold Jersey weather stung his face, it felt a lot better worrying about the flushed color it would give him than the reality that took place in House's apartment. Because at least for this moment he would try to forget about it without feeling guilty. Because the bitter cold would not make him the only one that was suffering.

Now, he couldn't really confirm this yet but he wasn't stupid nor ignorant to what he was capable of. No one could walk up to James Wilson and tell him how he was overreacting to the whole situation, even though they would have good reasons of suspicion to suspect that he was being melodramatic. He had feelings for Chase, yes, and his and House's relationship happened to be the first stepping stone to the demise of Wilson and House's friendship, but Wilson held no grudge against Chase to the extent of purposefully trying to break the new pairing apart for no reason. He wanted Chase to be happy and he may be during the first few weeks if lucky days of the relationship.

Yes, he had strong feelings for the Aussie, but that alone was not the only reason Wilson ran by. Wilson had seen House torture someone else . Wilson knew that his former friend had the ability to psychologically torture anyone that was near him, especially those whom fell head over heels for him. However, the physical damage he caused was just as bad; he would make it seem like he meant no harm. He would make them think that they wanted it or that they deserved it. Hell, maybe the fact that Wilson's mind was always on House to the point where it affected his dreams could be a prime example of such.

He shook those dark thoughts away. Things were bad yesterday, yes- and the nightmare he had hadn't helped much either- but he could at least look forward to seeing Chase's face once entering the building. That alone, would be enough solace for him for the time being. As he parked into his reserved spot and walked out of the car, he found himself quite quick paced and was surprised at how eager he was to see Chase. Maybe it was because he needed to have the definite knowledge that he was okay, rather than cheap shots of persuasive denial his mind always played.

When he walked near the diagnostics room where their team usually resided, an abrupt thought made him pause beside it momentarily. He came up here with the desire to see Chase, but what if he was in there as well? What if House was in there to greet him with a snicker and smart ass comment-comments he once found amusing before finding out the terrible things one like him was capable of. He couldn't stand seeing House next to him, let alone in the same room. And now he was going to charge in there, stare awkwardly at the people who stayed in there and walk out?

Wilson then realized that he was breathing hard. Was he walking up here faster than he realized or was it the nervousness coursing through his veins and on his skin that made him need to take him more breath? No longer wanting to hesitate despite the results that may come, Wilson walked over to the entry and opened the door.

The room wasn't really surprised to see him there, in fact they acted like it was nothing they should pay any of their attention to. "Where is Chase?" Wilson asks, trying to sound less frantic than he already was. The look on his face was one anxiety. That, he couldn't hide. The posture of his body was one of exhaustion. His awkward frame was met with confused glances of House's diagnostic room once the question was announced. The bodies shifted uncomfortably with the absence of Chase's and one other person: House. Just as Wilson feared. His breathing quickened even more than it was before. "I said where is he?"

The doctors of the room exchanged worried glances, not knowing how to answer. Foreman, who pitied the man that stood at the doorway finally decided to answer. "We don't know. Maybe he's sick with a fever or somethin' Wilson. I'm pretty sure that he'll be back in work by tomorrow."

Foreman stood up from his seat and slowly made his way over to Wilson, who was starting to act more and more distraught with every passing second. "How about you relax and we'll—."

His sentence was abruptly cut off by Wilson's harsh whisper. "Don't lie to me."

Foreman, taken aback by the accusation tensed up. "Wilson—."

"Don't lie to me you bastard." This statement was enough to surprise the room and everyone had their own way of trying to avoid such a confrontation. Cameron's was biting her lip or the tip of her pen as she pretended to read a potential patient's paper.

"Look Wilson—," his attempts at comforting came in vain as he was cut off yet again.

Wilson inched closer to Foreman and grabbed his collar, shoving him against the glass door. "You know where he really is. You know the actual reason why he isn't here. Don't you dare try and play dumb while you sit here and go about the situation!" His eyes were more watery and his fingers shook more with despair than of rage as he held his weight against Foreman, who refused to fight back and submitted at the defeating realization that he could no longer avoid the truth.

"Wilson calm down," Cameron finally said something. "That was what House told us to tell you, and anyone who asked," Cameron said innocently. Of course she didn't know. She had no way of knowing. He dismissed her statement.

Wilson took Foreman outside the room. His emotions were now finally showing through as he croaked. "Do you even care?"

Wilson's eyes bore into Foreman's who sighed. "I know," Foreman sighed. "But I'm pretty sure that he's okay."

Wilson dismissed the statement as a sad attempt to show necessary sympathy for the moment. He wasn't hurt and if he was it was in no way close to the level that Wilson was. Foreman hadn't made any attempts to tell Chase what was expected when he was in a relationship with someone like House even though he very much knew.

And no one else had a nightmare the previous night of Chase's body lying on his apartment's hard wood floor with House's cane shoved down his throat.

Hope you liked! please give me your feedback on what I should do...the story gets even more and more violent. Lol can't help it...I'm a lover of angst.