7.13—"The Backup Plan"

Wilson poured two glasses of champagne and handed one to House, joining him on the couch.

House eyed it with distaste. "What's this for?"

"We are celebrating," Wilson announced.

"I don't do anniversaries," House disclaimed.

"What anniversary?" Wilson asked. "We've only been together about four and a half months."

"I wouldn't put it past you to celebrate a four and a half month anniversary," House pointed out with a smirk.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Anyway, that's not what we're celebrating. I found an unopened letter forwarded from your apartment. Your lease is up at the end of this week. That makes us officially moved in together. And that..." he chinked glasses with House, "...is what we're celebrating."

"Oh," House said simply, not drinking his champagne.

Wilson put on his concerned face. "Is something wrong?"

"No," House answered, taking a sip to please Wilson. "No, it's a good thing. Means you'll have to think twice the next time you wanna try and kick me out."

"I'm not going to kick you out, House," Wilson said, scooting closer to him on the couch. "That's the point."

"Okay," House agreed simply. "Right." He shifted one hand into his pocket and took another gulp of champagne with the other.

[]

House wasn't in his office. Wilson walked through to check the balcony, but he wasn't there either. Wilson decided the clinic would be his next stop, and he was about to exit the office when a paper on the desk caught his eye. It was a partially filled out form with the words 'RENTAL AGREEMENT' written at the top. Intrigued, Wilson stepped closer to the desk. He looked over the form, a sinking feelings settling in the pit of his stomach. House was renewing the lease at his old apartment.

"House, wh..." Wilson sat down in House's chair, confused. True, he hadn't been overly enthusiastic the other night, but Wilson had figured that was just because House wasn't much of a romantic and they'd been living together in the condo for over a year, not counting the week Wilson kicked House out. The apartment was more a symbol of House's past than anything else. Now that they were together, it hadn't even occurred to Wilson that House might want to keep the place. And why does he? Wilson asked himself, starting to grow a little angry at the idea in addition to confused. He'd thought House was completely devoted to him; it certainly seemed that way. House loved Wilson more than...anything. The only reason he would need to keep his old apartment was because he'd need a place to go if he...ever left Wilson. But that didn't make sense. House would never leave Wilson, he couldn't. No, they hadn't gotten married and they most likely never would, but the relationship was committed nonetheless. Wilson ran his fingers through his hair. At least, he'd thought the relationship had been committed.

[]

House was in the clinic. He just wasn't with any patients. He was playing his PSP on the exam table.

"Hey, Wilson," he said cheerfully, looking up when the oncologist came in.

"Hey," Wilson greeted back, trying to stay amiable. "We need to talk."

"Great," House said sarcastically, putting his PSP away, and Wilson felt a twinge of annoyance.

Wilson held up the lease renewal. "What is this?"

House looked at the floor. "Oh. You found that, huh? Just so you know, I didn't leave it in plain sight, it was under some files. Foreman or someone must have moved them. You weren't supposed to find out."

"Great," Wilson said, his tone echoing House's. "That makes me feel so much better. Now we can add 'deception' to the list of things wrong with our relationship, in addition to 'lack of commitment.'"

"I didn't want you to find out because I wanted to protect you," House said, slightly raising his voice to match Wilson's. "I knew you'd get like this if you found out. Assume it means something ridiculous like me not being committed to you."

"Well why don't you tell me what it does mean, then?" Wilson suggested, putting his hands on his hips. "Other than your uncertainty over staying in the condo with me."

House still wouldn't look at him. "It's nothing," he said. "I'm not going anywhere. It's just...a backup plan. Just in case..."

"In case what?" Wilson demanded.

"In case we screw it up!" House yelled, glaring at him. "If I do something stupid or if you get temperamental and kick me out again. If you cheat on me and I can't forgive you and can't stay. Or if you find someone else..."

"House!" Wilson shouted, shocked.

"Oh, don't give me that look," House said, rolling his eyes. "Not like it hasn't happened a million times before. Someone else more interesting comes along. The only difference is we weren't sleeping together–"

"–Exactly!" Wilson interrupted. "We weren't sleeping together. We weren't together. I had every right to be in relationships with women. Now I won't anymore–"

"–Because you're tied to me."

"House, don't you get it? I want to be tied to you!" He approached House slowly, watching him. "That's why I want you to give up the apartment," he said gently. "When the lease on Amber's place went up, I didn't even think about renewing it because I was set on living in the condo. With you. And we weren't even together yet–"

"–You were set on living in the condo with Sam–"

"–It was before Sam," Wilson said, irritated. "Just us, Greg. And you not giving up your place...that tells me you're having second thoughts." He hesitated. "Are you?" he asked, looking into House's eyes. "Greg, if something's wrong, I need you to tell me–"

"–I don't know where this is going," House said, looking solemnly at Wilson. "I know where I want it to go, and I know where you want it to go, but I don't know if it will end up there. And if it doesn't, I need a place where I can go. If this ends, I lose my boyfriend and my best friend. I'll need something familiar. I know the apartment. I know how to get there when I'm drunk, I know where all my stuff is. It's a comfort. I'll need that...if this ends."

Wilson backed away, looking wide-eyed at House. "You think this is going to end."

"I never said that," House said, starting to grow irritated again. "I think this might end. Neither of us has the best track record–"

"Stacy left you," Wilson reminded him. "It wasn't your fault. Your track record's fine. It's me you don't trust."

"There are plenty of ways I could screw it up," House said, not looking at him.

"But there's one way you're pretty sure I'm gonna screw it up," Wilson concluded.

"Wilson, don't," House warned. "You said yourself you weren't sure–"

"–I'm trying as hard as I can!" Wilson insisted. "I'm doing well, House, even with Monica, I was barely even tempted. You remember how guilty I felt just for having a dream about her. House, I know you think people don't change, but look at you. Look how much you've changed over the last year and a half. I'm trying to change, too." He stepped closer to House and took a deep breath. "You've got to give me some credit here."

"I'm not not giving you credit, Wilson," House said. "I don't want to have to use the apartment. But I want it there if I need it. I'm allowed to have a Plan B."

Wilson looked him over and shook his head. "I'm your best friend. I'm your...boyfriend. You should trust me enough not to need a Plan B." He left the rental agreement on the exam table and exited the room.

[]

House entered his therapist's office without bothering to look at him and seated himself in the chair, brooding.

Dr. Nolan looked at him. "What happened?"

"Nothing."

Nolan scoffed. "Last time you were here your mood wasn't nearly as foul, which is saying something, considering all you had to go through with Cuddy."

"Last time I was in a good mood because I got laid before I came here," House explained. "Care to know more?"

"You and Wilson haven't been having sex?"

House rolled his eyes. "Yeah, like you're interested in Wilson's and my sex life."

Nolan chuckled. "I'm your therapist; of course I'm interested in your sex life. But from a professional standpoint, not a personal one. So have you not been having sex lately?"

"Define 'lately.'"

"When's the last time you've had sex?"

House frowned. "Interesting definition."

"House."

"All right, day before yesterday."

"That's not that long ago," Nolan pointed out. "How often are you normally intimate?"

"Do I really have to answer that?" House asked, staring at him.

"Only if you think it's relevant," Nolan said, shrugging. "You came in here complaining about less sex, but you say you just had it the other day. Do you usually have it every day?"

House was looking away again. He shrugged. "More or less. Unless one of us is...tired."

"How many times a week, would you say?"

"Eight."

Nolan chuckled again. "So basically every day, sometimes more than once?"

"Unless they changed the number of days in the week without informing me."

"But skipping a day isn't that unusual an occurrence."

House shrugged.

"Were either of you...tired, yesterday?"

House shrugged again. "Wilson said he was."

"But you didn't believe him."

"We had a fight," House explained.

"Ah," Nolan said, leaning back in his chair. "So something did happen."

"Yeah, but I know your question was asked in response to my negative attitude, and my negative attitude was a result of no sex, not the fight."

"But the no sex was a result of the fight," Nolan pointed out.

"Or Wilson could have been telling the truth when he said he was tired."

"Why don't you tell me what the fight was about?" Nolan suggested, putting his right ankle up on his left knee.

House's eyes focused on the bookshelves on the opposite wall. "The lease on my old apartment is up. I'm renewing it. Wilson's acting all betrayed about it. He assumed I wouldn't renew the lease."

"And why do you think he would assume that?"

"We're living together. I haven't even been there in months. My mail gets forwarded, most of my stuff's at the condo. There's no reason for me to keep the place."

"Obviously there is," Nolan disagreed. "You wouldn't renew your lease without a reason."

"It's just in case something happens," House said, still not looking at Nolan and shrugging. "Just because Wilson and I want to still be together in a year doesn't mean we will be. I wanna know the place is there if I need it."

"That's a perfectly reasonable and understandable argument," Nolan said.

"Wilson thinks I don't trust him," House said, rubbing his leg. "He thinks I'm assuming he's gonna cheat."

"Is he right?" Nolan asked.

"I don't know what's gonna happen," House said. "How can I assume anything?"

"So then you're not assuming he's going to remain faithful to you, either."

House shrugged.

"Do you trust him?" Nolan asked.

"I want to trust him," House said to the wall. "I'm not keeping the apartment because I don't trust him. I'm keeping the apartment because if this does blow up—either because of him or because of me—I want somewhere to go."

"Did you explain this to Wilson?"

House nodded. "He still thought it was about me not trusting him. I'm trying to trust him. I trusted him with Monica. I'm working on it. But he doesn't get that."

"Did you try and explain that part to him?" Nolan asked.

"I didn't get to. He took off. When he got home it was late, he said he was tired and just went to bed."

"Maybe you should try talking about this with him again," Nolan suggested. "Tell him that you're working towards trusting him and, if need be, explain to him again your reasons for renewing the apartment."

"And what if he still doesn't get it?" House asked, looking at his therapist. "What if he's right? Should I just forget about renewing it?"

"No," Nolan said, surprising him. "James has to respect your boundaries. It's part of a healthy relationship. Your apartment is something you need to feel comfortable. If he has a problem with that, it's his problem, not yours. In relationships, it's important to pick your battles. This one is clearly important to you, so I say it's worth fighting. You can compromise your wants for the person you're with. You can't compromise your needs. And it's clear this is something you need."

[]

"Can I join you?" Wilson asked Chase.

Chase shrugged at the table in front of him. "Go for it."

"Thanks," Wilson said, sitting down. "So, how're things with Remy?"

"Fine. I met her dad a few weeks ago. I think he liked me."

"That's good," Wilson said, smiling. "So...have you two talked about moving in together?"

"Nah," Chase said. "She's got a drawer at my place, I've got closet space at hers, but we're fine with that for now."

"About how long have you guys been dating again?"

"Around four months," Chase said. "Not long after you and House got together. Yeah, maybe in another month or two we'll talk about taking it to the next level."

"Makes sense," Wilson agreed. "You think probably your place or hers?"

Chase shrugged. "Haven't put that much thought into it. Hers, I guess. I'm still at me and Cameron's old place. When we spend the night together we usually stay at Remy's."

"And if that were to happen," Wilson continued conversationally, "would you keep Cameron's and your old place?"

"No," Chase scoffed. "I'd sell it. No reason to keep it."

"But what if you and Thirteen break up?"

"Then I...stay at a hotel or with friends until I can get a new place. Come on, Wilson, you've been through this. Finding a place isn't that hard. There's no point in paying two mortgages if you're only using one. If we break up, we break up. But we don't plan for it."

"That's what I thought," Wilson said, looking at the table.

Chase studied him. "I get the feeling this isn't about me and Thirteen."

"House's lease is up," Wilson explained. "It's been about a year we've been in the condo, over four months we've been dating, but he still wants to renew his lease. I can't figure out why."

"Have you tried asking him?" Chase suggested.

"Of course I asked him, he said it's just in case. But we're together. We plan on staying together. Just in case...it's what hotels are for. But he shouldn't need to keep his old apartment for god knows how long because we might break up someday, right?"

Chase half-shrugged.

[]

"Of course it's okay that he wants to keep his old apartment," Thirteen said. "It's not that he doesn't trust you, he obviously trusted you around Monica, and come on, that girl was a ten. It's personal, it's for him. If Chase moves in with me I don't expect him to sell his old place right away. It's rushing into relationships that screws them up. Yeah, you've been living together for a year and you've been friends for most of my lifetime, but the relationship thing is still new for you. Neither of you knows where it's going to go. You've made mistakes in the past and you're both adapting to big changes in your lives. House even more so than you. Come on, his whole world is changing. Can you seriously blame him for wanting one thing in it that stays the same?"

Wilson rubbed the back of his neck and shrugged.

Thirteen smiled at him. "It doesn't mean he doesn't love you, Wilson, and it certainly doesn't mean he doesn't want to spend the rest of his life with you. I'm sure that's all he's ever wanted for a long time, at least as long as I've known him. Give him this. I can almost guarantee your relationship will last longer if you do."

[]

House sat on his side of the bed, reading glasses perched on his nose. He was reading The American Journal of Surgical Pathology and didn't appear to notice Wilson entering the room.

"Hey," Wilson said, smiling at House even though the diagnostician wasn't looking at him. He joined him on the bed. "What're you reading?"

"Case study on kidney lesions."

"Is it interesting?"

"Not nearly as interesting as I'm sure whatever you have to say will be." He sighed and put the journal down on the nightstand, folding his glasses on top of it. "What do you want, Wilson?"

"To say I'm sorry?" Wilson tried, a weak smile. "I shouldn't have tried to push you? I want this to work between us, and if you feel more comfortable keeping your apartment, that's fine."

House studied him. "Do you mean that?"

"Of course. I...it was narcissistic of me to think that you want to keep the place just because of me, and selfish to get as upset as I did over the trust thing. I know that it's not easy for you, and I know that you're trying."

"Did Nolan call you?" House asked suspiciously.

"No," Wilson said, no trace of deception on his face. "Why, did you talk about this with him?"

House nodded.

"What did he say?"

"That you should respect my boundaries."

Wilson nodded. "I want to, Greg, I'm going to. You can give up your apartment if and when you're ready, not before, and I won't complain about it again, I promise."

"You get that it doesn't mean I'm not committed," House clarified, carefully gauging Wilson's reactions.

Wilson smiled. "I understand."

"And it doesn't mean I think you're gonna cheat on me."

"I know."

"And it doesn't mean you have permission to kick me out the next time we get into an argument," House continued, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Wilson chuckled. "I won't, I promise." He leaned forward and gently kissed House on the lips while his hand held the side of his face. "I think I've been good about that lately," he murmured against House's face.

"Yeah," House agreed. "Just cause you know it'll be that much harder to seduce me if I'm in a different building."

"You know my weaknesses," Wilson admitted, keeping his face against House's.

"And exploit them," House smirked. "For my own benefit."

"I believe in these instances your exploitation is mutually beneficial." Wilson kissed the side of his face.

"Completely unintended, I assure you," House insisted, leaning down on the bed so he was more lying than sitting. "I am the selfish one."

Wilson, resting over House, studied him for a moment. "No you're not," he said finally, leaning forward again.

[]

Wilson had had a rough day. Though he didn't do surgery that often, today he'd had to perform two surgeries in one day. The first one had seemed perfectly routine until the patient got a bleeder it took the doctors forever to find, making the process more than an hour longer than it should have been. The second had been an emergency surgery. Six hours of scouring the body, trying to fix it, and the patient had died on the table anyway. It was almost midnight and House wasn't home yet either because he was still working on a case, but Wilson was much too exhausted and discouraged to wait for him. All he wanted to do was take a scalding hot shower and crawl into bed. It would have been preferable if House were there to crawl into bed with him, but once he fell asleep he wouldn't notice his lover's absence anyway.

However, Wilson's plans were interrupted by his curiosity. On the way to the bedroom, Wilson noticed that the door to House's old room was open. Not only was that unusual, as they never used that room anymore, but Wilson was sure House had left before him this morning, and the door had certainly been closed when Wilson left. Perhaps House had needed to drop by during the day to get something? Wilson couldn't imagine what. Temporarily forgetting his desire to shower and sleep, Wilson pushed the door the rest of the way open to see if the room's contents would explain the conundrum.

It did. When they first moved in, the room had contained a bed and a dresser, with a few boxes of House's stuff in the closet. After they'd started sleeping together, Wilson had moved House's dresser into the master bedroom but the rest of the place stayed the same. Now, however, the room was filled with boxes—not just the ones House usually kept in his closet. Wilson smiled to himself as he looked around, suddenly feeling warm inside. House's guitars laid on the bed next to a box of old records. Other boxes of sundries, none of them labelled, of course, sat around the room in small piles.

On top of the pile nearest the door Wilson noticed a piece of paper, or rather, many small strips of paper. House had put his lease renewal form through the shredder and left the pieces here for Wilson to see. Examining the little strips in his hand, Wilson smiled. As much as he tried to deny it, House definitely had a romantic side.

Still exhausted, but feeling much more content and loved than he had when he'd entered the condo, Wilson turned back to go take his shower. In the dim light filtering in from the hallway, Wilson didn't notice the shoebox in his path until he tripped over it. He threw his hands out automatically to catch himself, but they made contact with a rather precariously stacked pile of boxes, knocking them and their contents of Nikes to the floor along with Wilson.

Wilson's muttered curse wasn't audible over the sounds of dozens of shoes rapidly hitting the hardwood, but another sound was. A sound that didn't belong. A rattle.

Hurrying to his feet, Wilson flipped on the light switch near the doorway. House's boxes were illuminated, including the one on its side with the Nikes spilling out. Wilson warily stepped around the shoes and boxes and crouched down to the floor. He'd heard it. He knew he'd heard it. And though he refused to believe it until he saw it with his own eyes, he also knew what it was.

After checking inside, Wilson straightened the box and started putting the shoes back in it, checking each one.

It was in the fourth shoe he picked up that he heard the rattling sound again. Filled with dread, Wilson shook the shoe until a small orange bottle fell into his hand. He held it up to read the label, hoping it would tell him anything other than what he knew it would say.

House's name. His name as the prescribing physician. And there, right in the centre of the label, the big black letters reading VICODIN.