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Wilson was just about to take a bite of one of the two lunches he packed for himself today. The second of course there because a certain crippled but not handicapped doctor had that nasty habit of stealing his lunch. Right as he lifted his egg salad sandwich to his lips, he got a page.

House, emergency.

Slightly annoyed, but even more worried he put down his food and put his lab coat back on. Sighing, he left the room and headed up to House's office. He wasn't quite prepared for the sight he was about to see.

"What are you doing here? I wasn't expecting to see you anytime soon." House said carefully to the slightly inebriated, much older man in front of him. I was counting on it really...he thought to himself.

"Your mother wanted to surprise you for your birthday. The big 5-0, huh? Ha, if only you'd act your age and not your shoe size. Do you know how worried your mother's been about you? Damn near made herself sick about you not calling us enough. I don't know why though. I made you a man...you can handle yourself. As long as you don't have to go up any stairs." John House laughed at his own poor joke.

"Why don't we go into my office, Dad? You can tell me where Mom is in there." House made a move to take his fathers arm, only to guide him into his office. Bad idea. John swung out his arm to free himself of his sons grasp.

"Get off me boy! Who do you think YOU are touching me like that. I ain't your son and I ain't your friend. I'm your Father. You show me some respect or hot damn you'll be sorry." He leaned in close so only House could hear. "You may not be eight years old anymore but I'm willing to bet I can sure as hell make you feel like you are."

House barely moved at the feel of John's hot breath on his ear. His nostrils flared and detected the sent of scotch...or maybe Jack Daniels...he couldn't be sure. Why was he thinking about this? Everyone was looking at them...he had to do something. Oh where was Wonder Boy Wilson when you need him?

"John? Well isn't this a...surprise. How are you? Where's Blythe?" James Wilson walked over to the pair and put a hand on John's shoulder and looked wide-eyed at his best friend...what was going on?

"James! There you are! I'm fine and Blythe is in the gift shop. She wants to find something for lunkhead over there. How's Bonnie?" John turned and warmly shook Wilson's hand with a large smile plastered on his face. Wilson tried not to flinch at the alcohol breath. Funny how even when House drank he never noticed the breath on him.

"Uh...it's Julie and she's...fine. Why don't we head into House's office and sit down to catch up." Still with that sick smile on his face John agreed whole-heartedly. Leading the way he continued his small talk. Wilson pretended to be listening but whispered to House out of the corner of his mouth, "Why didn't you tell me they were coming?"

"I didn't know." House replied, hoping his voice didn't showcase his worry. Slipping into his office past his friend he sat in the chair farthest away from his father. Picking up his tennis ball he picked at the fuzz a bit, halfway listening to his only friend and his drunken father talk. Where was his mother? Why did they have to come to the hospital? Why could Wilson touch his dad when he couldn't? He had long ago realized that his father liked Wilson far more than he liked his own son. Perhaps it was because of his near impeccable dress. His dad was always getting onto him about not dressing appropriately for his age or his job. Or maybe he saw the man his son could have been in Wilson. The seemingly well adjusted, stable, happy man he could have been were it not for his fathers interference. For his form of "discipline." What his father didn't know was about Wilson's need to care for a complete ass of a human, his number of failed marriages, or his apparent need for pills to help him "cope." House wondered what his father would say if he knew. He wondered if things would be different...maybe his father would hold the two men in a closer light. He threw his ball in a drawer with a bit more force than necessary. He wondered why he still wondered these things when he was almost 50 years old. Why did he still feel that need for his father's acceptance?

"Excuse me...House? Are you planning on helping with the case or not?" House looked up and noticed Cameron for the first time, standing at the door with a hand on the handle. Thank God! His savior! A reason to leave!

"Uh, yeah I'm coming." House stood to leave. "Sorry Dad, got a kids life to save and all..."

"Damn it Greg! Your mother and I came all this way to see you and she's down trying to find you a nice gift and all you can do is run off and try to play the hero to some poor guy who probably can wait another ten minutes. We were in the middle of a conversation now sit down and wait for your mother! If nothing else you can tell her some stranger is more important to you than her because I'm sure not gonna break her heart like that. All she wanted was to show you a nice birthday and you have to go and ruin it. You ruin everything, you always have." John's face turned a bit redder than when he had first arrived. Cameron felt like a deer in headlights. She wasn't sure what to say.

"Well I guess you heard him." House grit his teeth and tried to play it off. "Male bonding and all that. Put him on broad spectrum antibiotics and run whatever tests you feel necessary. And while you're at it, put in some hours at the clinic will you? You are so very behind on your hours too you know. There's really nothing else to do but wait and see what the tests show anyway." He gave her a wry grin that he somehow knew didn't seem as real as he tried to make it.

Sensing something wasn't quite right, Cameron picked up House's name tag. She knew he didn't mean for her to do her OWN hours. She was all caught up on those anyways. House wouldn't let someone badger him into submission like that even if he was trying to get out of working on a case...would he? Cameron knew he wouldn't. Feeling a bit like a soldier leaving a fellow to die she bit her lip and went to relay the orders to Chase and Foreman. What else could she do?