Title: And Nothing Else Mattered

Author: WolfOfLegends

Beta: Amphritie

Pairing: House/Wilson

Disclaimer: Characters NOT MINE!! :cries:

Summery: Two department heads at PPTH are in love but they don't speak a word about it... that is until Wilson gets set to marry his girlfriend making her the forth Mrs. Wilson. Needless to say, House objects completely.


"A little birdy told me something rather interesting today." Cuddy spoke as she stood in the middle of the Head of Diagnostician's office. House didn't attempt to join in, just stretched before letting out a big yawn. He knew if it really was interesting she'd tell him without him having to participate... 'less she wanted something. "Seems this little birdy had something to say about Wilson's new catch."

Blue eyes were now on her; she knew he had his attention now. She felt bad about what she was about to tell him. She had heard the rumor from a nurse in Oncology while she was chatting with another nurse in the cafeteria. And since she said she found out by accidentally over hearing Wilson on the phone talking about it, it sounded as if he hadn't told anyone about it.

"Seems Wilson's set a date for the wedding for this weekend."

Suddenly House sat up, shooting her a look cross between a look of confusion and a glare. "What wedding?"

"Same thing I thought." She knew the news would upset him, but she also believed he should know. She's known for a long while now that there was strong chemistry between her two department heads. She had seen it in the way House watched Wilson when he thinks no one is looking, or by the way, no matter what was going on, or no matter where he was, Wilson was able to drop just about everything and run to House's side when he needed him. It was in the way they laughed at each other's jokes, They way they watched each other for a bit longer than normal, the way they seemed to stand so close as if there was no such thing as personal space between them. She knew there was something big just under the surface that neither of them had admitted to.

It was House's sudden change in demeanor that told her that she might need to be a little worried. "That bastard, he didn't tell me a thing."

"He didn't even tell you they were going to get married?"

"He tell you?"

"Not a word, I just thought you of all people would know if he even proposed."

"Yeah, well. He didn't." His attention was turned to a small clock on his desk with him quickly spinning his chair and slipped out and grabbed his cane in the process.

"Where are you -"

"I'm going to get something to eat." and without another word, he walked passed and out of the door, leaving Cuddy standing alone in the glass office.

House hadn't lied. He was hungry, and his stop at the vending machine helped with that a bit, but he would have been lying if he said he wasn't going to pester Wilson. He already had himself in the mind set to bitch and guilt Wilson and just really find out why it was the younger doctor hadn't even said a word to him. So after the small stop to the vending machine, he quickly made a beeline to Wilson's office. House didn't even bother to knock as he opened the office door. He hadn't before, why start now?

Wilson was at his desk with a stack of paperwork and didn't even spare a look, "What do you need, House?"

"I heard an interesting piece of gossip a few minutes ago."

"Can't you tell me later, I really have to -"

"You're getting married this weekend."

"... How'd you -"

"That doesn't matter, why didn't you tell me? Did you think I wouldn't notice you having a wife? Or better yet, you not being at work next week? Did you really think I wouldn't notice? It's true isn't it? You're getting married. Again."

"Yes.." He replied sheepishly.

"Why the hell are you doing that? "Why would you want to marry her? She doesn't even get you, none of your wives did! Don't you realize that she's just going to end up as ex Mrs. Wilson number four?"

"Why the hell do you care, House?! Why do you care so much about who I marry? I need someone; I don't want to be alone! I want to have someone close that I can love and..." He closed his eyes tight and shook his head, "I just need someone to love, and who'll love me back, even if it's just for a few years."

"So this is how you plan on going through in life? Do you even love her?"

"Yes."

"Of course, you loved all your wives, didn't you?" Wilson didn't say anything; he only rubbed the back of his neck as he kept his eyes from House. "Yeah, you love everyone, St. Jimmy even loves strangers. But what about me?" Wilson pulled an objecting look but before he could get out a word House quickly jumped back in. "Tell me you don't love me! Or do you think I don't feel too? Is that what you tell yourself so you can sleep at night for the guilt? Go on; say it! Tell me you don't love me! Tell me I don't feel!"

"Sometimes, House, I don't even know. You always act as if feelings are irrelevant, as if you're a fool for having them! You act as if they don't affect you and that you're greater man for it!"

"I have feelings, you idiot! Just because I don't wear them on my sleeve like you do doesn't mean I don't have them. Gawd, and you think I'm heartless!"

"Telling you that you don't feel isn't heartless!"

"No, it's not! But keeping your best friend in the dark about you getting married this weekend sure helps!" He kept his eye hard on Wilson. "Well, are you going to say it?"

"Say what?" Brown eyes glared.

"That you don't love me."

Wilson only averts his gaze from frustrated blue eyes, there's no way he could get those words out and truly mean them.

"You can't even say it... You can't say it and you're going to get married?"

Wilson's saddened look turned to annoyed quick. "What else am I supposed to do? Tell me! Cause I have no clue! I am so sick of crying, I'm tired waiting for something that isn't going to happen because you're a coward! This is the only way I can be something even remotely close to happy.

"You want me to just be around with no one because you're so jealous of anyone that gets near me, but you refuse to do anything about it! House, I am not going to sit here and wait anymore for you to do something you're obviously not going to do!" Wilson was now standing and yelling and really didn't care who heard. "You bottle up you feeling as if you're ashamed you have them and don't anyone else to know that they exist. You act like you don't feel! Well, I'm sorry, I need someone who feels and who isn't afraid to show it from time to time."

Wilson sighed before closing his eyes and shaking his head. He couldn't deal with this, not all these questions. So without a word, Wilson walked from behind his desk and tossed his door open and wandered into the hall, House's gaze on him the whole time.

"You love me more than you loved your wives, more than you loved anyone. Something that strong doesn't strike twice." House growled to the retreating man.

"And what are you going to do about it?" Wilson spun on his heels facing the older doctor who still stood in his office. But House didn't say a thing.

Wilson sighed again before tossing out off handedly trying any way he could to possibly make light of the situation. "So, I take it you're not going to be my best man?"

"Damn straight!" House shoved passed Wilson and started down the hall. He watched as House slipped down the hall and into the direction of his office. Wilson brought a hand to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose before turning and going back into his office.

House on the other hand didn't care about anything at that moment. He didn't care about his job, he didn't care about his patient, and he sure as hell didn't care about Wilson. Or at least that's what he told himself. So after gathering his bag he left for home, also not caring if Cuddy was to say anything. All he wanted was to get home and forget.

What House didn't know was that Cuddy did see him leave, but she didn't stop him.

--

It didn't take long for those three days to pass by before Saturday loomed. Everything seemed pleasant enough, that is except House was getting annoyed with himself. As he sat on the leather couch in his apartment watching some uneventful television he started to become antsy. At first he just ignored it. But it kept getting more and more persistent. He felt like getting up and pacing, for some reason being idle wasn't what his body wanted to do. And while flipping through the channels and caught a look at the time, he saw why.

11:43 AM.

He fussed himself for staring at the time for a bit longer than he should had. Wilson's wedding he found out was for noon that day. A beautiful Saturday afternoon, a kind of day most people prayed for their wedding day. House scorned the beautiful weather. But when the time stretched closer and closer to noon he started to became more and more restless and he was becoming even more annoyed with himself.

Snatching the amber prescription bottle from the coffee table and dry swallowing a Vicodin, he could hear Wilson's words rattling in his head like the remaining pills in the bottle.

You want me to just be around with no one because you're so jealous of anyone that gets near me, but you refuse to do anything about it! House, I am not going to sit here and wait anymore for you to do something you're obviously not going to do!

"Dammit, Wilson!" He tossed the bottle down hard onto the floor with the top coming off and the pills left spilling out onto the floor and scattering about. "You want me to do something than fine!" He yelled to no one but himself in the empty apartment. "You just better be fucking grateful!" He quickly grabbed his cane and slipped on his leather jacket before grabbing his helmet and making his way out the door.

--

Wilson stared sadly out the window almost as if he were waiting for something when his Great Uncle Johnny approached him, his black yarmulke contrasting dramatically against his white hair. "Ah, James, my boy, don't look so sad! Today's a wondrous day! Today you get married." He placed a hand on Wilson's shoulder with the said groom to be trying his best to force a smile.

"Yes, a wondrous day." His smile was the best he could pull and it seemed enough to please his Great Uncle anyway. He gave Wilson a gentle punch to the shoulder before fixing his Great nephew's slightly crooked yarmulke. Wilson didn't know how his family could believe in his so much by this point. Here he was, getting married for the fourth time and no one seemed to have any objection to the whole thing.

Why wasn't anyone stopping him? Why were they letting his go through with this? And why the hell hadn't anyone tried to convince Angela that she was crazy for marring him? Doesn't being married four times ring alarm bells? All these questions shot through his mind and he couldn't find an answer for any of them.

Glad he was alone again, he rested his forehead against the palm of his hand. He knew he was supposed to be happy, but happy seemed too far out of reach for him.

--

House was glad, for a Saturday the traffic was nowhere's near as bad as it could be. He knew he was already late but it didn't matter by this point. He was already on his bike and on his way to the synagogue. House wasn't sure if he believed in such a thing as fate or destiny. He more liked to think it luck that he still had Michael Wilson's number in his cell phone. When he called to find out about where the wedding was being held. He was met with various questions, the main one about why wasn't he the best man as he had been for Jim's two previous weddings... Ah, Michael, always trying his help his older brother.

House only dismiss the questions and asked where the wedding was. Michael told him quickly and in a hushed voice. The wedding apparently was starting. He hung up the phone and spat out a curse. He knew he had to act fast being that the synagogue wasn't as close as he liked. So he slipped on his helmet as fast as he could and helped his right leg over the bike, started it up and shot into the street and mingled amongst the traffic.

But now he was about halfway there and was weaving through the traffic, trying to get around various cars that weren't going as fast as he needed to go and had a few near misses on the way as well. All he knew was that he wasn't allowed to crash on this trip; he had to make it to that synagogue as soon as he could.

It took a few more minutes of reckless driving before House had finally made it to the synagogue. Quickly he pulled his right leg over to the left side of the bike and got off, grabbed his cane and made his way to the stairs and eyed them angrily. Damn churches for having steps! He could hear the voice of someone talking on the other side of the large double doors. He hopped he wasn't too late.

--

Wilson looked to his bride to be, Angela. She looked beautiful with her soft dark hair held up with pins and hairspray in some such way that probably took an hour to do. Her shining eyes watched him sweetly from behind her veil. He returned the smile. He did love her, he loved all his wives... it was just he kept telling himself he wanted something he just couldn't have, and sweet Angela would have to make due.

He didn't want to be alone. As silly or as weak as it sounded, it was one of his fears. He closed his eyes and pulled out the ring he was going to slip onto her finger, the ring that would be making them man and wife. He then reached for her hand with his other one and opened his mouth to speak the words he knew by heart when suddenly the loud bang of one of the synagogue big double doors being shoved opened caught everyone's attention.

"I object, your honor!" A voice shot from the sudden busted open doors to reveal a worked up Greg House.

It was obvious by this point that for the sake of being dramatic, both of the doors were supposed to swing open at the same time and with the same force, but the left door just opened much slower than the right with House shoving it the rest of the way with his cane, clearly annoyed with the door uncooperativeness.

But with the combination of the bangs of the doors being forced open in combination of that gruff voice, Wilson dropped the ring he had been holding and was now staring wide eyed at the source of the sound as was everyone else in the synagogue.

All eyes were on House as a low murmur of discussion started to emit from the guests. He made his way to a startle James Wilson, who stared with disbelieving wide eyes. "I won't let you do this, you belong with me! She doesn't love you as much as I do! Hell, no one in the world loves you as much as I do and you don't love her as much as you do me! You're right! I'm a coward, but I doing this even if it kills me!

"James Wilson, I love you and I'm not letting you get away!"

In the audience, Jack Wilson, father of the groom slapped a hand to his face. "Dammit, Greg.. Of all the times, you had to choose now." Hazel Wilson was too stunned to even get a word out.

"House?! What are you doing here?!" barked the angry voice of the bride to be. Wilson didn't hold a thing against her; she had every right to be mad.

"I'm taking what's mine!" House barked back. Wilson found himself vaguely wondering if his family was behind him as much as they had been five minutes ago. He also mentally wrote off yet another girlfriend who hated House to the brink of wanting to kill him. But it was the sight of House moving even closer to him that snapped him off his train of thought. "I refuse to go up more steps!" He hissed more to himself as he reached out with his cane and hooked Wilson by his left thigh and pulled, with the younger man stumbling down the three steps and onto the same level as House.

It was as if everything around them faded away to nothing only leaving the two of them. There was no loud clatter of voices from the guest, there was no yelling and crying about a ruined wedding from the bride, it was only James Wilson in a tuxedo and a traditional white kittel with a yarmulke and Greg House in his casual rumpled shirt, jeans, and leather jacket with cane. They stood there a moment only staring at each other.

"You're really here, aren't you? I'm not dreaming?" Wilson asked, his voice soft but filled with awe.

"No, this is reality last I checked."

Wilson smiled softly, his eyes sparkling at the words. "Why are you here?" there was a hint of laughter in his voice.

"I'm here to steal you away and whisk you off into the sunset!"

"On what? Your bike?" The jacket made it pretty obvious and the fact that the synagogue wasn't completely sound proof.

"Hey! I'm here to save you! You take what I give you! And if you say anything about not wanting to die while being whisked away, I'm going to beat you with my cane!"

"But I'd rather not die." House growled and brought up his cane with Wilson shielding himself but chuckling, "I mean, 'Oh House, I'd love to ride on your steel horse with you into the sunset and live happily ever after!'"

"Damn straight.." House purred as stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Wilson and pulled him close, "I love you," he whispered just before their lips finally met. Wilson tried, but he couldn't help it. Being bombarded with so many emotions, so happy House had finally made a move, annoyed that he hadn't earlier, sad that he hurt yet another woman because of he loving House, frustrated for all the clothes both of them wore, worried that he'd have to be riding that bike as well as it's been sooo long.

So long wanting this, so long waiting and so close to letting it all go that he couldn't stop the tears from falling. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he kissed the one person he believed he ever truly loved. A callused hand reached up and wiped the tears but never pulling from the kiss. And still in their minds there was no one else there but the two of them. The moment for the two was nothing short of amazing, it was like two souls coming together who were meant to be together in every sense of the word. To them it didn't matter if that moment was the only thing they cared about, and they didn't care if in reality everyone in that building, some watching with wide eyes, some trying to console the upset bride, and some ready to give the two a piece of their mind. They didn't care about any of that. Because in their world, there was only two.

And nothing else mattered.

END