House glanced at the time on his battered cell phone. It was two minutes after Wilson had hung up. Maybe he shouldn't have made the bet, it was nearly impossible for anyone, even Wilson, to make it here in five minutes even if he so happened to be right down the road. The doctor looked at the wound in his side and breathed deeply. It didn't matter anymore. He just wanted to be done with all this. Everything that had happened, from his birth to present, seemed like a complete waste. At this point, even seeing Wilson failed to invoke any type of feeling. House let his eyes drift closed and let himself drift off into oblivion, where nothing hurt anymore.

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

"House, if you die…" Wilson blinked back tears as he sped down the one-way street. The problem with that was that he was going the wrong way. It would have taken over ten minutes to go around and enter the one way street from there. House didn't have that kind of time so Wilson, despite the nagging feeling of doing something wrong, drove down the road praying to God he would get into a head-on collision.

"Shit. Piece of shit." Wilson swore as he hit the steering wheel with his fist. "Go faster." He glanced at the clock on his dashboard and swore again. Two minutes past his allotted time and he knew House well enough to know something bad may happen.

Adrenaline pumped through his body and the sound of blood rushing through his ears blocked out everything else. The oncologist parked his car far enough to the side of the road to prevent anyone from hitting it and went to the edge of the ravine. Why the hell didn't they build a God damn rail? His expensive loafers were being severely abused as he slid down the side of the divide. The neatly pressed shirt and pants became ripped and dirtied during the descent. He hadn't looked this way since his brother tackled him in the puddle of mud when they were young.

An immense feeling of relief came over him when, by some miracle, he spotted his friend laying less than a hundred feet from him. Wilson stopped at his side and checked his pulse and breathing.

"Damn you, you selfish bastard. Wake up." Wilson held House's head in his hands. "Wake up, House. Please, I know you'd probably rather want to see Cuddy's cleavage…or ass more than you'd want to see me right now but please, please I'm begging you don't die from this. I don't think I can do this again." He looked up when he heard sirens and saw headlights cut into the darkness. He shouted for a few minutes to get their attention and returned his focus back to House. He pressed his forehead against his friend's. "It hurt when I knew Amber was dying but… it hurt worse thinking that you could've died and it would've been my fault. I'm such a bastard for even asking you to do it. I'm sorry."

~-~-~-~-~-~-~

It hadn't been easy getting House's unconscious form back up the ravine but, thankfully, the paramedics had done it. So now Wilson sat in the hospital room in a hard chair beside House. It was two days since House's accident, the infamous doctor had yet to wake up, and Wilson had yet to leave his side. The oncologist was too afraid that if he left House would wake up and not find him there.

The diagnostician was still in bad shape though. Cuts were on almost every inch of his body, his arms had long gashes on them from when he had tried to slow his descent and had to be stitched. His hands were covered with bandages, nails torn and left wrist broken. His side was heavily bandaged where his cane had broken and must have been driven though during the fall. Wilson had watched the surgery and was so nauseated by its removal he had to leave the room. He was just surprised there was no damage to the neck or spine. The leg was a different matter. The bike must have fallen on his legs because they were both a mass of purple and yellow bruises. The amount of pain House must have been in added to his leg pain only served to make Wilson sick again.

"My God, House. You should've been more careful. You're always so reckless." The younger doctor felt tears prick the corners of his eyes as he laid his hand on House's. He brushed his thumb over the bandaged knuckles and smiled humorlessly. "I guess it's a good thing you're not awake right now else you'd probably kill me for touching you." He spoke softly and wiped a tear from his cheek with the back of his other hand. "But you know how sentimental I can get so maybe you'd spare me." He laughed gently, as if House were a baby that could wake at any moment instead of a grown man hooked up to wires and fluids.

"Wilson?"

The oncologist quickly removed his hand and looked up. "Oh, Cuddy, how are you?" He was simply being polite. She had been there less than an hour ago along with Cameron.

"I'm fine. How are you holding up?" She pulled up a second chair and sat down wearily. She held two steaming cups of coffee and offered one to Wilson. The rubber band hung limp and worn from her wrist.

"I'm fine." He took the coffee with a nod of thanks and sipped carefully.

"You should go home. Shower. Eat. Do something. You've been sitting here ever since House got here." She told him. She never took her eyes off Wilson. Wilson never took his eyes off House.

The oncologist shook his head. "I can't do that. I have to be here. I have to make sure he's ok."

With a sigh, Cuddy rose from her chair and gave him a gentle, reassuring pat. "He'll be fine but if you need anything just call me." She told him before leaving.

"Is it nice?"

Wilson's eyes widened in surprise. "House?"

"I assume you're staring at her ass or were staring at her cleavage. So again I ask is it nice?" House brought his right hand up before opening his eyes.

"I actually wasn't looking." Wilson wanted to take House's hand in his own and look at the blue eyes again but knew he couldn't. "It's good to see you awake."

House shifted his hand so Wilson could see one baby blue eye. "Sentimental bastard."

"Selfish bastard."

The diagnostician cocked an eyebrow. "That's not a secret but that the first time you've said that. Why?"

"It doesn't matter. How's your pain? I can up your morphine a little if you need it."

"I can manage. Now tell me why."

"Because… I thought you were dead and… and I thought you left me alone."

House rolled his eyes. "You sentimental bastard." He looked Wilson over. "You've been sitting here the entire time haven't you?"

"I wanted to make sure nothing else was wrong. Don't belittle me for it."

"I'm not. I'm trying to say that you look like shit. Go home and get cleaned up. It's unbecoming for a person with your reputation." House smirked.

Wilson frowned. "I don't think about my reputation all that often."

"Obviously, since you've slept with half the nursing staff."

"House." Wilson gave him a warning glare.

"Wilson, seriously, you look awful. Are those the clothes you wore to come down the ravine? Looks like it. Go home."

"But I-"

"Go home. There's a whole nursing staff to cater to my various whims."

"I'm coming back." Wilson promised.

"Wouldn't expect any less."

Hats go off to all who reviewed! Anyway, so far I've been switching from Wilson to House and back again but that changes with the next chapter. I'll be doing strictly House from now on. He's easier for me to connect with.

'Till next time…