Wilson yawned and House noticed.

Noticing came so natural to House that his brain rapid-fired through a hundred diagnoses before he realized what he was doing.

If it were any other patient, House would have thrown the file back in Cuddy’s face.

“He yawns while caffeinated,” she’d say.

“He’s on anti-depressants,” he’d say.

Boring.

Cameron would have wanted to know why the patient was depressed. House couldn’t care lass. In medicine, why is not important. Only how. And everybody lies anyway.

But that was any other patient. This was Wilson. And if Wilson was sad, he wanted to know why.

Asking was out of the question. So House decided to dose his friend with amphetamines.

While waiting for Wilson to answer his page, House yawned without being tired, but he was too busy thinking about his friend to notice.

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It’s a flashier tie than Wilson normally wore. House knew that he picked it out himself, and he knew it was designed to make one look “pretty.” House would have told him it was the ugliest tie he’d ever seen, but then Wilson was murmuring an explanation for the gift and House was mumbling an apology.

The next day, House wears the tie to his trial, and he fools himself into believing that it’s only because he had nothing else to wear.

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When Wilson moved in, House thought it was rather like having a maid. House controlled the TV, he made Wilson do the dishes, make dinner (he made the most delicious smorgasbord), answer the phone, and generally keep the apartment clean.

As long as Wilson was angry at House, he wouldn’t be thinking about his broken life. House leaned back and waited for the day when Wilson would finally call him on it. Maybe then he would be ready to face the fact that another marriage was over.

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House is pretty sure Wilson is lying when he says he forgot his wallet, but House pays for lunch anyway.

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House is pretty sure Wilson is lying when he says the schoolteacher is his cousin, but House takes the case anyway.

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“I’m going to order up some extra pain meds.”

“I love you.”

There it was; the acknowledgement that Wilson had been waiting to hear for months. House did care, at least somewhat, absolutely, irrefutably, even if he only said it in response to the meds.

But Wilson threw House’s chart down and slammed the door on his way out. House was right; he was always right. Words were meaningless, and everybody lies anyway.