A/N: Thanks to allthingsdecent for her valuable advice. Thanks also to everyone who has read this, reviewed and added it to their favorites/alerts. I am humbled that you like this story enough to keep up with it. BTW PJ's Pancake House is a real restaurant located in Princeton, NJ. If you've never eaten there you should! It's delicious.

It was Saturday morning and House was sound asleep. The morning rays of the sun streaked through the windows onto the bed showering his face and chest with warm bright light. It was the combination of that warmth combined with the ringtone of his cell phone which woke him from his peaceful slumber. At first he let it go to voice mail, but then the ringing began again and he knew it wouldn't stop. It was either Wilson checking up on him or the team needing his expertise. Knowing neither would relent until he gave in, he finally answered his phone.

"House. It better be good," he grumbled.

"House?"

"He woke a bit more. No, it's your fairy fucking godmother!" Hearing Wilson's silence he yelled into the phone, "Oh for fuck's sake Wilson, who else would it be? Why are you calling me so goddamned early?"

"It's nine o'clock, I thought maybe you'd want get some breakfast, maybe go over to PJ's. You don't do anything other than go to work and home anymore. I just thought it'd be a nice change for you to get out." He added the clincher. "I'm buying."

House contemplated sleep versus the delicious stacks of pancakes that seemed even more mouth-watering by the fact that Wilson was paying for them. This was a no-brainer.

"Thirty minutes," he said before he hung up. House knew Wilson would want to talk. He wasn't good at talking about his feelings but he knew he had to start somewhere and even though Wilson was a mother hen sometimes, he was his best friend and had stuck by him through everything. One of the reasons House considered holding back was that he didn't want Wilson getting his hopes up just to be disappointed yet again. One thing House hated more than disappointing himself was disappointing the people he cared about. That circle of people was very small, actually only three to be exact.

Twenty minutes after hanging up with Wilson, House was showered, dressed and ready to go. Ten minutes later he and Wilson were sitting at PJ's Pancake House eating breakfast. As they sat across from one another in the booth, Wilson noticed House was unusually quiet. Finally, Wilson broke the silence.

"House what's going on? Normally you would have inhaled two plates of pancakes by now and demanding a third and here you've hardly touched the first."

House put his fork down, took a deep breath and said, "I've been seeing a shrink."

Wilson was completely taken by surprise. "Really? Wow. I...uh…gee...since when?"

"A few months," he said through a mouthful of pancakes. "It's Nolan."

"I'm surprised you went back to him."

"Me too but he is a halfway decent shrink." Seeing Wilson's unconvinced stare, he added, "Okay fine, he knows how to get to me, doesn't take my shit and I actually need that right now, are you happy?"

Wilson grinned. "Is it working?"

"Have I killed myself yet?"

Wilson gave House the look and for once House got serious. " Maybe. Okay, yeah it is. We're talking...about...stuff. It's hard but I try. He suggested writing therapy too. It's supposed to help get out things I can't talk about. I'm supposed to talk about my feelings."

"So how do you feel House? I remember a time you told me you didn't feel anything."

"I didn't feel anything because I was so doped up on Vicodin. No more Vicodin and I'm still in pain. My leg hurts."

"Your leg always hurts. No, I mean what do you feel? House, you've been through a lot this past year, don't deflect, just tell me the truth."

House sighed. "The writing helps, okay? No offense, I just don't feel like being analyzed right now, that's what I've got Nolan for."

Wilson held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, I understand. Listen, for what it's worth, I'm proud of you."

Wilson's admission took House by surprise. He mumbled his thanks and then decided to shift the conversation. "I'm also back in PT."

"Wait..what?" Wilson was shocked he didn't know this sooner, but House had been making a point to be by himself a lot in the past few months and Wilson hadn't wanted to push him.

"Nolan suggested I do something about the pain in my leg. He doesn't want me back on Vicodin. I don't either so I've been doing PT."

"Wow. I can't believe I missed this. How often? Is it working?"

"At times I'm sore all over but it takes my mind off the leg pain. I'm doing hydrotherapy with swimming and water exercises and I'm also getting massages and using the hot tub. A few times a week. Doing weights too. I go every Tuesday to the PT clinic in the hospital before my appointment with Nolan. I go back when I need to during he week for short sessions. They've got a clinic on the outside I work with too."

"Ahh that explains why you take every Tuesday off. You never told me."

"Surprised you never snooped."

"I figured you had your reasons." Wilson could hardly contain his excitement. "Wow House this is huge, you know that right? Off the Vicodin, seeing Nolan, physical therapy, this is amazing."

"Oh geez mom, can we just take this one day at a time? Don't make me sorry I told you." House picked at his pancakes, and Wilson got the feeling House wasn't finished but he didn't want to pry too much, he knew House would clam up for sure. So the two ate quietly for a few minutes until House finally broke the silence.

"Wilson, what makes you think it'll work this time?"

"Huh?"

"What makes you think I can finally fix myself? I couldn't fix my screwed up life for Cuddy so what makes me think I can do it now?"

Wilson didn't know if House could do it but as his friend he had to support him as he tried again.

"House I don't know if you can change. All you can do is try. If you fall down, get up and try again. Just don't give up. You're screwed up, so what? We all are. But the problem you've had since before I've known you is that you have difficulty expressing yourself. When you're scared you run. You have issues you can't talk about with me, couldn't talk about with Cuddy, things you have kept inside for years. Keeping it all in has made you a bitter, hard, cynical ass, and if therapy is going to help you figure it out, more power to you. That you haven't given up is huge. You had a choice, live or die. You chose to live."

"I wrote a letter to Cuddy," he said, catching Wilson completely off guard.

Wilson nearly choked on his coffee. "What?"

"I wrote a letter to her apologizing and expressing my feelings to her…about a lot of things. Nolan didn't tell me to write her, he just told me to start writing anything, but the only requirement was that I be honest, otherwise it was useless. The first thing that came to mind was writing to her."

"Wow, well this is certainly unexpected."

"I just don't want her to think that I'm trying to give excuses for my actions before or after the breakup either. I'm responsible for what I did. I don't know if you know this but I told her it was not her fault."

"In the letter?"

"Well yeah but that last day, too. We met in the cafeteria for lunch; she wanted to know how I felt. I told her I was hurt, she said she was sorry and I told her it wasn't her fault. It wasn't you know. It wasn't her fault that I'm a son of a bitch who is afraid to feel pain, can't communicate my feelings, and who is so screwed up that...I couldn't even hold on to the best thing I've ever had in my life."

Those last words came out so softly Wilson almost didn't hear them. House was looking down at his plate, moving food around with his fork. It was thedmost serious and somber Wilson has seen him in a long time.

"So House, what are you going to do with the letter?" Wilson had told House where Cuddy was living and working but didn't think House had her actual home address.

"I'm going to eat it Wilson, what the hell do you think I should do with it?"

"House."

House sighed. "I don't have her home address. I was going to ask you but I'm afraid to send it…"

"…because you're afraid she'll either not read it or send a reply that makes you feel worse. Am I right House?"

"It's a shock we're not married the way you know me so well."

Wilson smiled. They sat quiet, both pondering their conversation.

"I love her Wilson. I'll always love her."

"I know."

The two men looked at each other understanding no words were needed at that moment. Then they continued to finish off their pancakes and coffee. Wilson decided it was time to break the silence with something a bit lighter. Besides, they had plenty of time to discuss his therapy and Cuddy later.

"So House, have you seen the new nurse in pediatrics?"

"Oh crap, should I be getting my tux dry cleaned in preparation for Mrs. Wilson number four?"

"I haven't even met her yet. I'm just saying she's easy on the eyes."

"Wilson I am so not throwing you a bridal shower so just forget it."

Wilson laughed. "Well I was thinking a spring wedding would be nice."

House just rolled his eyes.

"You know House, there's a monster truck jam coming up in East Rutherford."

House raised an eyebrow and grinned. "Now you've got my attention Wilson. Keep talking."