"It's bad enough I can't walk don't make it worse by making me go to a party where no one likes me." House groaned as Wilson wheeled him into the bar. He was just coming down off the morphine so his mind was slowed somewhat. It was the only reason Wilson had gotten him this far without a physical struggle.

"It's not my idea, it's Cuddy's. We'll only stay for a few minutes. All you have to do is thank a few people for caring."

"I'd be lying and they'd be lying."

"Everybody lies."

"I bet Cuddy didn't even tell them why they're here. No one would show if they knew she threw this get-together for me." House rested his head in his right hand as his senses were assaulted by the noise and smell of the bar. "I'm telling you, Foreman and Nurse Brenda are planning my death."

"I suppose you think they had something to do with your accident?" Wilson smiled politely and shook hands with a few nurses and doctors. No one even glanced at House.

The diagnostician was quiet for a moment. "No." He answered finally.

"House, I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to see you after you woke up but there was an accident on the highway." Cameron explained as she walked up to them, dragging Chase along by the hand.

"Don't worry about it. Wilson knocked me out again so he could have his way with me." House smirked at the horrified expression on Wilson's face.

"I'm sure. That sounds just like Dr. Wilson." The immunologist flashed Wilson a smile.

"You should hear what he sounds like in bed."

"Well, we just came to see how you were doing." Chase interrupted with a small cough. "I have to get back to the OR. I have a heart operation scheduled in an hour."

"Yeah, you should probably leave soon before you actually start to care." House snapped suddenly. He pinched the bridge of his nose between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand while he gripped the arm of the wheelchair until the knuckles of his right hand paled.

"I think we'll leave you alone now." Cameron said softly.

"Please do." The diagnostician said through clenched teeth. His eyes were closed and his nostrils flared.

"Take care, House. Goodbye Wilson." She smiled at them both while Chase shook Wilson's hand and gave a House a sympathetic nod before pulling his wife away.

"She was trying to be nice. Can't you do the same?" Wilson whispered disapprovingly.

"No. I can't." House snapped, still gripping the wheelchair tightly. "Wilson, take me home."

"Just a few more minutes and I'll take you home. I promise."

"Wilson…please." The older doctor pleaded in a soft voice. He could almost feel Wilson's gaze boring into the back of his skull and it made him sick.

"Alright, I'll take you home." He whispered gently. House nearly breathed a sigh of relief as Wilson carefully maneuvered the wheelchair toward the exit.

"Wilson, you're not leaving already?" Cuddy's voice made them stop and turn to face her with guilty expressions. Well, Wilson looked guilty, House just looked ready to get out.

"Damn it." The diagnostician muttered. "Wilson, you have two good legs. Run, damn it, run."

Wilson ignored his friend and gave their boss and apologetic smile. "Yes, I'm afraid we were just about to get going."

"You just got here. Stay for a little while. After all, the party is for you." She smiled as sipped her alcohol.

House was starting to get irritated, more so than usual. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not one for social gatherings." He snapped as he rubbed his forehead in an effort to banish the headache that seemed to grow the longer she stood there.

"The morphine's wearing off." Wilson explained. "We'll see you later." He said as he pushed his way past her.

"Goodbye Wilson. Take care, House." She called after them as they exited the bar, leaving the noise and people behind. Most of them probably didn't even know why they were there. It was sad really.

"Let me help you." Wilson helped House from the wheelchair, being careful of the injured ribs, and helped him in the car. He put the wheelchair in the back and slid into the driver's seat. "I'll get you to the apartment in a few minutes." He promised.

House leaned against the door, forehead pressed against the cool glass. "Wilson, you're moving in, you might as well call it home by now."

"Really? That's… nice of you."

The diagnostician snorted. "This is the third time you've moved in, you might as weel move in permanently…. Unless you're planning on marrying again."

"Why do you always have to mention my multiple marriages? I already told you I don't want another wife."

"And again you never do." He became quiet suddenly and more withdrawn as they passed by the ravine where he had his 'accident'.

The oncologist put a gentle hand on his friend's forearm. "I'm sorry. I should've gone the other way."

"Don't be ridiculous. This way is much quicker." House muttered quietly. He tugged at the hairs under his bottom lip thoughtfully.

Wilson cast a worried glance at his friend. "What are you thinking of?"

Shaking his head, House continued to stare out the window.

"Do you want to talk about it? I mean you're usual reckless but you've never had an accident as far as I can remember."

"It was just one of those days." House muttered.

"What do you mean?"

House looked at the hand Wilson had on his hand and smirked. "I know this move. First it's the gentle touch here and there, then it's 'accidental' touches. That's how you end up married you idiot."

"Well there's no chance of us getting married so I think I'm in the clear." Wilson replied with a small smile.

"That wouldn't stop you trying to get in my pants."

"For God's sake, House, calm down. I'm not about to try to do you." He replied with a sigh.

"I hope not. At least not in my current situation. I need to be well rested." The infamous doctor gave his friend a smug look.

AN- Ugh!!! I got kicked out of class… again! It wasn't my fault though…seriously, it's the guy sitting behind me. Well, at least I got to write this. Enjoy! ^^