Chapter Five

House continued to take multiple cases. It made him busier, and it made Lisa happy. When he got home from work before his girlfriend, he sometimes actually watched Rachel instead of just dropping her in the playpen and leaving her to her own devices. While he did not enjoy changing her diapers or listening to her temper tantrums, when she was simply being a curious toddler he found her an excellent distraction. No, taking care of her did not require intense thought and concentration like medicine, or even cooking to an extent, but it did require constant attention. He could hardly allow his mind to wander for more than a few seconds before Rachel stuck a pen cap in her mouth or asked him an important question such as why the cow on the TV was blue.

Lisa was in love with the idea of her boyfriend and daughter bonding (House recalled that when she'd been trying to get pregnant she'd come very close to asking him for a sperm donation; he knew she really wanted his baby). He could tell it made her feel less like a single mother with a fucked-up boyfriend and more like part of an actual family. He wondered, but didn't ask, if she'd felt that way with Lucas. It didn't really matter, though, because she'd left Lucas for him because she loved him more. She always had and always would. House made her happy in a way that Lucas never could, and that...that was almost...flattering...to him.

House was a mess. He was a drug addict and a jerk; he had no patience and thought everyone around him was an idiot. But...for some reason...Lisa loved him and he made her happy. He hadn't known he was capable of that. But when she came home every day and saw him sitting with her daughter or making dinner, she looked at him with her radiant smile, her eyes glowing with love, and he had to smile back because he knew he was the one that did that, that put that smile on her face. This was his life now, and he...when it was just the two or the three of them and Wilson wasn't consuming his mind...he was satisfied.

.

This was the moment he was dreading. He wasn't naive; he'd known it would come sooner or later, but he still dreaded it.

His patient might have cancer. The scans were inconclusive to his eyes, and the only way to know for sure was to have them looked at by an oncologist.

He thought of being immature and just sending one of his underlings for the consult, but they would want to know why and might tattle on him to Cuddy, who would not be impressed that his relationship with Wilson had deteriorated to the point where they couldn't even work together.

So he grudgingly took the patient's scans and limped over to Wilson's office.

He entered without knocking and slipped them into the viewer on his wall, flicking on the light. "Is it cancer?" he asked without looking at Wilson.

The oncologist rose and stood next to House, inspecting the scans. The diagnostician, uncomfortable with this small amount of space between them, took a few steps back toward the door. The only way for him to keep Wilson out of his line of sight at this angle was to look at the floor.

It felt like an eternity passed before Wilson spoke. "No," he said, and House could hear the sigh in his voice. "It's not cancer."

House stepped forward to grab the scans again, and he really didn't mean to catch Wilson's eye, but he did.

Wilson still looked hurt. His expression held a silent plea, asking him to stop this ridiculousness, come be his friend again. At the very least give a reason, a real reason, for why what they had had to end.

The older man couldn't stand to look at him; it made him feel sick inside.

Couldn't Wilson see that this was the only way? It wasn't that House didn't want to be his friend anymore; he simply couldn't. Being around Wilson was painful because the younger man wasn't in love with him, it was frustrating because there were times when he just wanted to throw him down on the nearest surface and have his way with him, and it interfered with his relationship with Lisa.

They were doing better than ever, and the diagnostician knew it was because making her the priority in his life, the centre of his focus, was only possible with Wilson out of the picture. It was a necessity.

House looked away, took his patient's scan, and left the office without another word.

.

Lisa finished putting Rachel to bed and joined House on the couch. She sat close to him, like she usually did, leaning her body against his. She was warm. He liked that. For a few minutes they watched TV in silence, but eventually she spoke.

"I had lunch with Wilson today."

He didn't mean to tense, and she must have noticed since she was leaning against him, but she didn't comment. "Yeah?" he replied, trying to sound casual. "That's good."

"He asked about you."

"He tends to do that."

"What..." she said, turning to look at him and getting to the point. "What happened between you two, anyway? He said you were the one to end things, but you didn't explain why, and I don't understand either. He's your best friend, Greg; why would you just cut him out of your life?"

It wasn't until after she'd finished talking that he looked at her. Her forehead was creased with concern; it was nice that she genuinely cared. "Lisa...you and I are together now. You're the most important thing in my life now. He's not my best friend anymore because you are."

Her smile only lasted a second before she continued. "But what about Wilson? All right, so you...care about me more, that doesn't mean you need to stop caring about him."

He decided not to correct her. "I haven't stopped caring about him," he muttered. "It's just...easier this way."

"How?"

A shrug was his only answer.

She sighed and settled back into him, looking forward again. "Greg, I think you should talk to him, try to work this out. You're good for each other."

"I don't need him," House said stoically, also looking straight ahead. "I have you."

.

Rachel had slept a bit later than usual, allowing House and Lisa to have morning sex before getting ready for work, so the day started out on a positive note for both of them. He made breakfast for the three of them and they chatted about work and whatever while the toddler ate messily.

House was between cases, but in a good enough mood not to mind spending his morning in the clinic. While there, he found someone with interesting enough symptoms that he decided to take the patient as a case. He ran a differential with his team, grabbed a quick lunch in the cafeteria and relaxed in his office for awhile while awaiting test results.

He hadn't thought about Wilson all day. He'd been too busy, and when his mind did stray, it went to thoughts of Lisa and Rachel and a study of lupus patients done in Germany. Except for the seven words exchanged between them during the most recent consult, he hadn't spoken to Wilson in over a week. The out-of-sight, out-of-mind tactic was definitely working, and this pleased House. Maybe he and Lisa had a shot at happiness after all.

House had his laptop open and was trying to decide whether to waste time by watching porn or be semi-productive and read journal articles online. He'd made a list in his head of the pros and cons of each and was about to make a decision when the door opened and Wilson walked in.

Now House had a different decision to make. He could try and escape through the balcony and hope Wilson wasn't fast enough to corner him in his office, he could ignore his former friend completely, or he could participate in the confrontation and hope it wouldn't set him back too much in his goal to forget he was in love with the oncologist.

Option one was tempting, but Wilson was much faster than him and would probably end up finding a way to corner him anyway. House decided to start with option two and proceed to option three if he felt the situation warranted it.

"House, we need to talk," Wilson said, stepping in front of the diagnostician's desk with his hands on his hips.

"I agree," House said without looking at him. "This is my office. You do not belong here. Leave. Good talk."

"House, please talk to me," Wilson said sitting down in one of the chairs. "Tell me what's going on. Why don't you want to be my friend anymore?"

"Because you can't obey a simple request like getting the hell out of my office when I ask you to," House deflected, eyes fixed on his computer screen.

"Stop that, House, just give me a reason. I don't understand. We've been friends for nineteen years, and now all of a sudden you're saying it's over. It doesn't make sense, House, you owe me an explanation."

"We were friends for seventeen years when you just up and left," House pointed out. "After I'd just risked my life for you, I might add."

"At least I gave you a reason," Wilson snapped.

"Oh yeah, you said I spread misery because I can't feel anything else. I remember now. And I manipulate people because I can't handle any kind of real relationship. Right, glad we had this talk. You can go now."

Wilson flinched at his words. "House, I'm sorry I said those things. I was upset. I was frustrated because I had no control over Amber's death and I was pushing you away so that if I lost you, at least that would be under my control. You know that. You figured it out before I did. You're not ending our friendship because of something I said to you two years ago."

House sighed. "Fine, Wilson. You win. You want to know why? I'll tell you why. It'll get you to leave me the fuck alone." He should have just done this to begin with, should have just told him. If Wilson knew the truth, he would freak out. He would leave House alone. The friendship would be over and House would be free to be with Lisa. He wouldn't be capable of having constant romantic thoughts of Wilson because Wilson would be out of his life. It was the best thing to do.

The diagnostician got out of his chair, walked around his desk, and sat down in the chair next to Wilson before turning to face him. He looked the younger man directly in the eye and spoke. "I'm in love with you."

Wilson's brown eyes widened in shock. "W...what?" he stammered.

"Yeah, you heard me right," House said, keeping his eyes locked on Wilson's. "In love with you. I'm half-gay for you. I look at you and think about how much I wanna fuck your brains out."

Wilson didn't say anything. The expression on his face was one of shock, but he continued to stare at House.

"I'm with Lisa now," he continued. "Not supposed to want to fuck your brains out. I'm supposed to want to fuck her brains out. And I do, but...I tend to have less interest in that after I've spent the day with you. So..." he said with a shrug. "Simple calculation. Less time with you equals more interest in her. More interest in her equals more successful relationship. So we're not friends anymore, Wilson. If I ever get to the point where I can eat lunch with you without spending the rest of the day fantasising about pressing you against the wall and sucking you off, I'll let you know."

Wilson had broken eye contact. He was staring at a space on the wall somewhere to the left of House's head and wasn't moving.

House got up and sat back down at his desk. "By the way, you can leave now," he added, opening his laptop's internet browser and finding his bookmarks. He watched as Wilson slowly, and without another word, stood up from his chair, turned around, and left the office. Then he sighed, closed the computer, and massaged his temples.

It had worked. He'd scared him off. Wilson would not be coming back. This...was exactly what he wanted. So why did it feel like someone had removed his heart from his chest and dropped it in a pile of cow shit?

It also sucked that now he had to start over again. How could he not spend the rest of the day thinking about Wilson after that? Except now it wasn't even fun because Wilson was gone. He couldn't just change his mind, take his words back and tell Wilson he wanted to be friends after all.

So he needed to distract himself. He worked on his case, he read medical journals in languages he barely knew, he made dinner for his...sort of family, and did not let on to Lisa that anything out of the ordinary had occurred. Second to not seeing Wilson at all, throwing himself into medicine or Lisa and Rachel was the best way not to think about him.