Hey folks...! I'm back with a sequel to "The best of motives" called "Scars". This story takes place a couple of months - let's say six :) - after the end of the previous fic. It will probably make a lot more sense, if you've read "The best of motives" first...

I still don't own anything and still don't make any money with this.

Enough said! Here's the first chapter of "Scars". Hope you enjoy it... :)

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"You're potassium's low!" Wilson strode into House's office, his tone light if somewhat accusing.

His friend looked up at him, expression completely impassive. "Your socks don't match!" He perfectly mimicked the oncologist's pseudo-casual tone.

Suppressing the impulse to look down to check, Wilson sat down in the chair opposite his friend's desk and handed the other man a sheet with medical test results. "You also seem to have been losing some weight again…" He carefully regarded the diagnostician.

Completely ignoring the last comment, House impatiently snatched the result sheet from the younger man's hand. "How did you get these anyway…", he muttered unhappily.

Wilson answered with a small smile, leaning back in the chair now: "I have friends in high places..."

House snorted at that, quickly scanning the data. "More like in the lab. - Didn't even know you had any new 'projects' down there..." Wilson chose to conveniently ignore the sarcastic remark.

A moment of silence, then the oncologist spoke again, his tone more serious now. "You ran them yourself, didn't you." Not really a question. When the other man predictably didn't bother to reply anything, he calmly continued: "You included a liver panel... – What's going on, House." He didn't manage to completely hide the concern in his voice.

The diagnostician gave a dramatic eye-roll at that. "Nothing's going on, Mr Worry-head. Am I not allowed to check up on my own health every now and then?" Tone perfectly innocent.

Wilson snorted at that. "Yeah, sure… That's what you've been doing. Just an unmotivated health check. Usual behavior for you…" He sounded mildly frustrated by now, tone sarcastic.

Then, apparently forcing himself to get back to the most acute subject right now: "So…" Casually, yet matter-of-factly. "You been vomiting?"

House pulled his face to a grimace. "Yes, doctor. I didn't know how else to deal with all this tension…" Then, lowering his voice to normal levels again: "I'm not bulimic, Wilson."

His friend just nodded. "Of course not. So… Problems with the meds?"

"I'm fine." Forcefully.

Wilson nodded again. "Yeah. – What about the weight-loss and the potassium then… Talk to me, House."

The other man visibly shut off at the oncologist's insistent questioning. "I don't have to talk to you, you know…?"

Wilson just shrugged. "No, you don't. – But I'll have to admit you then…"

House looked up sharply at that. "What?!" He eyed the oncologist incredulously. "Because I've lost a couple of kilos?! That's ridiculous…"

Seemingly unperturbed by his friend's tense reaction, the younger medic replied calmly. "No. Because if you can't explain why your potassium's low, we need to find out. And prevent it from dropping any lower."

The diagnostician rolled his eyes at that. "I'm a doctor too, remember? I'm - fine! There is no mysterious illness."

Wilson slowly nodded, his eyes never leaving his friend. "Okay… So, you've been vomiting then."

Here we go again…

House once more rolled his eyes, clearly intent on ending this conversation. "Yes. – Happy now?"

The reply was immediate: "No. – Meds, pain, or something else?"

The diagnostician's gaze turned hard. "Just a stomach bug. - And I'm not getting off the Vicodin." His tone was an interesting mixture of defensive and threatening by now.

Wilson immediately shook his head. "No; but you're getting on an antiemetic. – And if the potassium's any lower by the end of the week, you're also getting on IV supplements, until this is under control." When he received no immediate protest, he gave a concluding nod, before pushing himself to his feet. "Okay then! I'll be back with the antiemetic; and we'll draw some more blood on Thursday."

When he had reached the door, he turned around once more, throwing his friend a sudden smile. "In the meantime…", he smoothly threw a banana into House's direction, before quickly exiting the room.

The other man caught it easily, snorting, a small smile escaping his lips as well.