A/N: Okay, guys. Here is the final part. I'll let it speak for itself rather than rambling like I normally do. (Oh yeah, and something I forgot...I do NOT own House. Duh!)

Chapter 3

"House…House, are you in there?"

Cane chirped up, "Looks like you don't need to call anymore," his voice was almost smug, "go on then…get the door." House stood still, staring at the door, but not moving from the spot.

"House, come on! Open the door!"

"What are you waiting for? Just open the door and apologise to him!" Cane exclaimed.

"I'm going!" House growled down at Cane before turning back to the door and yelling, "Alright, I'm coming."

But as he took the steps towards the door, he felt himself begin to shake and he couldn't stop worrying about what he was going to say to Wilson.

An apology is an apology. I'll just say sorry and everything will be ok…

"No it won't," Cane announced, "a simple 'sorry' won't be enough this time, House. He needs to know that you really mean it. He needs to know that you aren't just apologising for the sake of apologising. Hell, it's Wilson, you know he'll want to talk about it…and this time, I think you owe it to him. Just explain. He'll listen."

House nodded and took a deep breath before raising his hand to the door knob and twisting.

"Hi House. May I come in?" Wilson was overly formal, the way he usually was when he and House had a falling out. However, House's reaction was far from normal. Wilson felt uncomfortable standing on the doorstep, his best friend not saying a word, just gawping at him, an odd expression on his face. He would have found it amusing had the circumstances not been so serious. It hit Wilson that House's expression resembled a look of fear or panic…but he quickly dismissed this idea when he realised who he was talking about.

House was still. The moment Wilson's face registered as he opened the door, his mind went into overdrive – stealing all the energy itself and leaving him bound to the piece of carpet beneath him.

Oh shit. What do I say? How do I begin? I can't do this. How can anybody do this? Do I do it here? Do I offer him a beer first? Do I even have any beer? How long has it been since I opened the door? Damn it! How long have I been staring?!

Cue Cane. "House, stop it!" House flinched slightly at the sudden outburst from beneath his hand. He dropped his eyes from Wilson's and laid them on Cane, watching and listening intently. "Just let him in and tell him to sit down!"

"House, are you alright?" Wilson asked, noticing the way House averted his gaze. Could it be that he's actually feeling bad? Wilson pondered.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Come in." House stepped aside, allowing Wilson to brush past him. Wilson looked noticeably awkward. His hands were stuffed in his pockets and he didn't seem to know where to stand. House watched him.

"Look, House I know it's late, but I –"

"Wilson, sit down for a minute. I wanna say something."

A look of worry sprouted across Wilson's face, but he complied, making his way to the couch.

"Good start. That's the easy part over." Cane teased. House growled quietly in response, earning himself an alarmed look from a tired Wilson.

House shook his head, realising how insane he must've looked. He limped slowly to the couch, sitting on the side furthest away from his friend. He already felt ill at ease and he hadn't even spoken yet, but what he was about to do was way beyond comfort.

"Wilson…" Nothing else came out. Wilson's eyes seemed to bore into House's brain; they widened slightly, prompting him to go ahead and continue…but House didn't.

Moments passed and the silence around the room was awkward. House jumped as Wilson let out a loud sigh and dropped his head.

Cane to the rescue. "Okay. Look, you're losing him. Just say it!"

"I don't know what to say," House blurted out at Cane, feeling frustrated by his own speechlessness. Then he remembered Wilson was sitting in front of him. He looked stunned by House's sudden outburst. House inwardly cringed at his own stupidity.

Wilson waited, nodding his head slightly, knowing that House would eventually find words.

House's thoughts quick-fired through his head, panicking in case Wilson lost his patience and walked out again. That wasn't what he wanted. He's right in front of me and I can't say anything. Just great. I don't want him to leave. I don't want him to give up. He's gonna end up hating me. No, stop it. I don't do sensitive sappy stuff…

"Maybe you should," a deep voice interrupted his thoughts.

It's not like I mean everything I say…If he wasn't such a girl…

"He's your best friend," Cane reminded House, "and you need him. Just tell him how you feel."

House glared at Cane once more; the idea of bringing up feelings had never been so daunting. But Cane was right, as usual, he did need Wilson, more than he'd ever care to admit.

So he began.

"Okay. Look, Wilson," Wilson looked House dead in the eyes. House took a deep breath and continued, "I know I can be impossible sometimes…most of the time. Hell, people say it often enough – I'm a selfish jerk and I have a habit of making other people miserable." House dropped his eyes to the couch and rubbed his forehead with his hand. "Maybe if you weren't such a girl about everything –"

"Not wise," Cane interrupted. House sighed.

"What I said…it was wrong and stupid and insensitive and I-I…you…" House shook his head. He hated 'talking' to Wilson. He had no use for these deep moments; he only ever ended up revealing something he wanted to keep to himself. This time, he feared, would be no different. "Sometimes…I-I…I just say things…I say them and I don't necessarily mean them. They just come out and I can't help myself," House's tone was deadly serious, "I don't say them just because I'm trying to be an ass…I say them because I need a way to get out of certain…situations."

It was then that it hit Wilson. It hit him like a blow to the back of the head. House, in his own weird way, became this hugely insensitive, callous jerk, not because he didn't want to help, but because he didn't want to say the wrong thing. Wilson came to him for help. House dismissed him, said something hurtful and Wilson automatically thought he was being a selfish bastard. That he just didn't care. The truth was, House did care…when the time came that Wilson needed support and advice, House hid behind his reputation. The jerk Dr House would never let his guard down for anyone, but in reality, he was just scared that the advice he would give, the things he could say to people – to Wilson – might be wrong. And they might suffer.

House continued, "I'm telling you this because I'll probably never change…but I…I need you, Wilson and I don't want you to…to leave." Finally House took a shaky breath and allowed himself to relax a bit more. Now everything was said and done, all that flowed through House's mind were the words, que sera sera – whatever will be, will be. It was out of his control.

Wilson didn't say a thing. He was completely dumbfounded by how open House was being and realised how rare these moments were with House. He had been rendered speechless.

They sat in silence. Even Cane had nothing to say at this moment.





"I don't think you're a selfish jerk," Wilson blurted out when he regained the use of his voice. His eyes met House's; mesmerized by the way the deep blue orbs seemed to show the relief House felt by simply hearing his voice again. "Look, House…I-I need you to know. I'd never leave, never give up on this. I said we had a twisted friendship…and we do, but it's the best twisted friendship I've ever had," Wilson's lips curled upwards into a small, sad smile, "you've sad it yourself. This," Wilson pointed to House and then back to himself, "this is never boring."

House smirked slightly and nodded in understanding. Wilson continued talking, "I know you hate all this 'talking about things and…and feelings,' but when I come to you with a problem, it's just because you're my friend. I don't expect you to know what I should do anymore than I do. Sometimes it's just nice to have someone to listen, y'know?" House nodded, now resting his chin on the handle of his cane. The whole situation was uncomfortable, but he was happy in the knowledge that once the conversation was over, it would be over for good. Wilson wouldn't bring it up again and House was damn sure that he wouldn't either. Wilson continued, this time with a more playful tone, helping to ease the air of tension between them, "I mean, if you honestly can't trust yourself to say anything good or helpful…or if you just don't know what to say, House, I don't mind if you just listen..." House shot Wilson a quizzical look. Noticing the question in House's eyes, Wilson innocently answered, "Honestly, House. You don't have to say anything at all. I'll understand."

With that, House raised his eyebrows and gawped at Wilson, as thought to say; now you tell me!

"Why didn't you just say that in the first place? You could've saved yourself a lot of insults – we could've saved ourselves a lot of unnecessary arguments!"

"Lovers tiffs more like," Cane interjected. House had almost forgotten Cane was even listening.

This isn't helping, House thought.

"No, but it's fun." House immediately dropped Cane to the floor and kick him away from his feet. That'll teach him, House thought, a smile stretching across his face. Unbeknownst to him, Wilson was watching him intently, with a smile to match his own. Turning to look at each other, they both shared a laugh, neither knowing what they were laughing about, but both knowing it was what they needed.

As the laughter died down, House saw Wilson's expression harden somewhat. He was still smiling, but something in the way he was sitting told House that their talk wasn't quite over yet.

"Don't panic, House," Wilson said, noticing the anxiety etched into House's forehead, "I just want to say…don't be…scared or worried about…about giving me friendly advice…or even unfriendly advice. I wouldn't ask if I didn't want it."

"It's stupid. Medical decisions, advice, anything, I'm fine with. Hell, when it comes to that, I'm a genius." House scoffed to himself before carrying on, "But people problems…I can barely deal with my own…I always end up doing the wrong thing…I don't wanna mess up your life too." He dropped his gaze to his lap, embarrassed by his confession and annoyed at himself for allowing yet another brick to be torn from his wall of defence and feeling the fool for being the one that removed it.

"House, look at me…Please. It doesn't matter what you say to me. Either I take your advice or I don't. Ultimately, if things go wrong, it's my fault, not yours." Beginning to stand, he patted House twice on the knee, whispering the words "never yours" before striding into the kitchen in search of snacks and beer.

It was over. He felt…better. He felt good. Talking helped, House thought, who knew? He smiled to himself as he watched Wilson House-wife in the kitchen and he saw this as his cue to switch on the TV.

Moments later, Wilson came back in with a bowl of potato chips and too bottles of beer.

"Monster Trucks?" Wilson complained, handing a beer to House and placing the bowl of chips on the cushion between them.

"Problem?" House rolled his eyes towards Wilson.

Wilson sighed, "Nope." When 'Monster Trucks' was on, no force on Earth could stop House from watching it.

"You busy tomorrow?" House asked innocently.

"No, why?"

"I'm going cane shopping, wanna come with?"


With that, they both returned their attention to the TV.

For some reason, House felt less weighed down and he couldn't help but be a little thankful to Cane – however infuriating it was having someone read his thoughts.

Everything is finally out in the open, House thought.

Their hands accidentally met in the chip bowl between them. House's hand lingered.

Well…almost everything.


Okay, how was it? I hope you enjoyed it XD
This fic will be getting a non-crack sequel very soon. Warning: it will be SLASHY! SO don't spoil this one by reading the sequel if you're not a slash fan.
Thank you to everyone who took the time to read this and/or review it. It means the world. Merry Christmas everyone (in case we don't cross paths again until after the holidays). Is it wrong that every time I see a candy cane now I think of House...?