Don't own any of House or anything related.

Ok everyone. I have to apologize. I am sorry that I left this story for so long, but things got sort of crazy in my life and I had to let this take a back burner. Then I got writer's block and didn't know where I was going with this anymore. I hope this will make some of you happy. I have rewritten it a few times, but am still unsure. I am submitting it before it drives me crazy. I'm just having a hard time getting back into it. So hope you enjoy and review. I am not sure, but this may be the end of the story. I'm not marking it completed yet as I am hoping that I will come up with something to keep it going.

Chase helped them into Wilson's car. It was a quick process this time. House bit his lip as he tried to keep it together. Chase assured House that he would call later to make sure that they were OK. He shut the door and walked around to the back of the car. He wanted to talk to Wilson.

"So...are you guys going to be OK?" Chase asked worriedly.

"Yes, I think so." Wilson answered hesitantly.

"How's your back?" Chase asked genuinely. He knew that Wilson was feeling better, but wanted to know how much was really better and how much was show for House.

"It's not perfect, but it's better and I'll be fine." Wilson answered truthfully.

"What about House?" Chase questioned.

"We'll get home, he'll soak in the tub and hopefully he'll be OK too. He really needs to rest. I called Cuddy already. We won't be in tomorrow." Wilson continued.

"Call me if you guys need anything. I'm hoping that you will be fine, but it was nice to be able to help you guys and feel like I was able to do something right outside of work." Chase said quietly.

"Yeah. You were really a big help...thanks." Wilson said with sincere gratitude.

With that Chase turned and went back into the hospital. Wilson and House left to go back to their loft. Wilson was feeling tired, but OK which was more than he could say for House.

House was leaning toward the passenger door pressing his head against the cool glass. Partly to feel the cool, smooth surface against his rough, sweating face and partly to help balance himself as his casted arm sat in his lap. House had gotten rid of the sling at some point today, but was wishing that he had it right now as he could feel the arm throbbing. He could feel his heartbeat rise and slow in his arm as they drove over each bump and uneven spot in the road. He kept his eyes closed as he was still feeling a little queasy. He figured that once in 24 hours was more than enough times to vomit while in Wilson's car.

He felt the car slow in front of the loft. He heard Wilson's door open and he could feel the car shift slightly as Wilson eased out of the car. House noted that it was taking him longer than usual, but not so long that he had to worry about Wilson's pain level. He waited for Wilson to come around to his side, but realized he must have gone inside for the wheelchair first. Soon there was a faint tapping at the car window. He didn't want to open his eyes, but knew that Wilson wasn't going away so he relented. He picked his head up off the window and shifted his body off the door. Wilson slowly opened the door as if he thought that House was going to fall out onto the curb. House just sat there. He took a few deep breaths, but still didn't open his eyes.

"Ready?" Wilson asked.

"Yep. I could lead a 5K and have energy left for a game of golf." House replied with sarcasm heavy in his voice.

"Ha ha. Why don't you just worry about getting your sorry rear end into this chair and leave the comedy to the professionals." Wilson suggested with a hint of a smile.

"What fun would that be? I need to keep you entertained or you might stray and go find Mrs. Wilson number 4 and then where would I be?" House said with a tired wink.

"We've been through this before. I don't plan on getting remarried any time soon House." Wilson sighed.

"You never do. It just happens." House said back knowingly with a sigh.

"We can dissect the failures of my relationships later. Can we get you inside before it rains and we both get soaked?" Wilson said while gesturing at the dark clouds looming above.

"Fine, with me, but watch the bumps...please." House said the last part almost inaudibly.

Wilson knew that this meant that he was hurting and wanted to get inside. Normally, Wilson would have expected some comment about his hair getting ruined by the rain or a wet t-shirt comment. He knew that the car ride had jostled House's arm and his leg, but didn't fully understand the magnitude until he heard the words and tone that House had used. He knew that was the way it was with House. That most of the time you had to take what you could get and then put the pieces together to decipher what he was saying or not saying. House saying please was a dead give away. Wilson knew House was in a bad way.

Wilson got the wheelchair wedged close enough to the car and took off one of the arm rests so that House could just scoot over. He was able to leverage enough to get to standing. It took some struggling and some noises that could have been mistaken for a wounded animal, but House eventually stood and pivoted to the chair. Wilson reached out to help guide him from behind in the last second to avoid House either sitting on the wheel or banging his arm.

House was in the wheelchair when he let out the breath that he had been holding unconsciously. Unfortunately for him, it was accompanied by a scream that he was unable to control. He grabbed at his leg as the quick changes in position caused the pain to explode through the useless limb. He was weary and weak and in pain and and wanted to take some pills and forget this whole ordeal. That's what he would have done when he was using Vicodin. Now, he wanted to get in the condo and soak a little. Wilson put his hand on House's shoulder and gave his a squeeze.

"Hang in there House. We're almost in and then we can get you comfortable." Wilson tried.

House hung his head in defeat as Wilson wheeled him into the apartment. "Do you want to use the bathroom or right to your bed?" Wilson asked not wanting to assume anything.

"Toilet then bed" House replied. His answer was short and to the point. Any hinting of humor or sarcasm that had been there earlier was gone. It was replaced by the shell of House that was occupying the wheelchair.

"Alright" Wilson replied as he turned the wheelchair into the bathroom. He pulled House up as close to the toilet as he could. He helped him to his feet and helped him with his pants without saying a word. Then he turned slightly to give his some privacy, but stayed close enough to help him should he need it. Not that it mattered. He had been through this exact situation so many times with House after the infarction that unfortunately this was not even strange for either of them. Wilson wanted to give him what dignity he could though. House finished and waited for Wilson to help him with his pants. Then he practically collapsed in the wheelchair. He doubled over in pain and had to gasp for his breath.

Wilson knelt down next to him and rubbed his back. House didn't push him away. He was hurting so much and the sensation was comforting. His breathing finally regulated and Wilson got up. Wilson was concerned. They had their unwritten rule about touching, but since they had gotten out of the car, he had done it twice without so much as a peep from House. Wilson was trying to make sense of it, but realized he needed to get House to bed.

He brought House into the bedroom and helped him onto the edge of the bed. He then turned to get House a t-shirt and his pajama bottoms when he heard House yell out in pain. He turned around quickly and saw House trying to pull his leg onto the bed. Wilson cursed at himself for not realizing that leaving House's leg down on the ground like that would be excruciating for him. Wilson rushed to his side and helped him swing his legs into the bed and lay down gently holding his leg and then elevating it gingerly on a pillow.

"Damn it House. I wasn't paying attention. I'm sor" Wilson started before being cut off by House.

"I know. You're sorry. Save it. It's fine. I don't want to be a bother. I know you have much more important things to worry about." House shot back. He was obviously annoyed. He couldn't understand. Wilson was usually so overprotective and overbearing and now he was just heartless. He knew that Wilson would know that he couldn't tolerate that position. House hated having these thoughts. He hated that he wanted Wilson there and that he wanted Wilson to care. He also hated that he wanted Wilson to think about the little things that make the difference , the things that no one else knows or gives a damn about.

"Well I am, whether you believe it or accept it." Wilson said with a catch in his voice that House didn't miss even in his pained state. Anyway, we should get you into something more comfortable. Do you think you can get your pants off or do you want me to help you?" Wilson asked innocently.

"Why Wilson, if I didn't know better, I'd think that you were just trying to get me out of my clothes." House teased with a hint of a smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. He was trying to lighten the mood. He realized that he had hurt Wilson and without Wilson he was alone.

"Well, if my back was 100%, I'm sure my graying, male best friend would be the first one that I'd want to try to get naked and take advantage of" Wilson smirked back. He understood that was as close as an apology as House would get and took it at that.

Wilson watched while House struggled with his pants, but managed to get them to his knees before collapsing back onto the pillows writhing in agony. He helped him slide them off, leaving his boxers in place. He then slid the cotton pj pants on and left them at his knees waiting to see if House wanted more help. House took the cue and reached down to pull them up. He was able to give a few tugs before the pain shot through his arm and he had to hold it with his other hand to try to calm it. Wilson immediately reached for a pillow to prop up his arm. House waived it away and motioned for the shirt instead. He quickly changed his shirt and then arranged his arm on the pillow that Wilson had left near his arm. Wilson went to go get House some pills before he went to sleep. He returned and handed House the pills that Wilson knew were basically useless against the level of pain that House had right now. House dry swallowed them and closed his eyes. Wilson covered him with a blanket before positioning the wheelchair near the bed, dimming the lights, plugging in House's cell phone to charge it and pulling the door almost closed.

Wilson went out to the living room. Now that House was safe in his bed and dozing, he could relax for a few minutes. He grabbed his heating pad and sat on the couch and turned on the TV. He didn't mean to close his eyes, but it happened anyway. He was awakened a little while later by the sound of House groaning in the other room. He was almost thankful. If he had spent all night sleeping like that on the couch he would be useless in the morning. He moved very carefully and slowly. He stretched gently before doing any real moving. He walked slowly over to House's room and peered in. Sure enough House was on his side in the bed groaning. Wilson walked over to the bed slowly and sat at the edge of the bed waiting for House to acknowledge him. House opened his eyes and said "Pills. I need something for the pain."

"Yeah, it's been a while." Wilson went out to the other room to see where he left the pills. He returned with the medication and a glass of water knowing that House wouldn't need it for the pills, but hoping that he would drink it anyway to help with the dehydration. House took the pills and much to Wilson's surprise and relief, he also drank the water. Wilson helped him get settled back in bed elevating House's injured limbs again on pillows. He asked House if he needed anything else to which he got no response. His breathing was still rough and he was moaning a little. Wilson saw him squeezing his mangled thigh under the blanket to no avail. He put his hand on House's, but on top of the blanket. House's grip released and he moved his house away. Wilson took that as permission. He sat down on the bed next to House and started massaging at the tight mass that was where House's thigh muscles used to be. After a while, he could feel the grip loosen and House relax. Wilson quietly called his name, but only got a snoring noise as a response. Wilson wasn't sure if it was real or just an avoidance tactic, but he was tired and wanted to crawl into his own bed so he left.

Wilson was awoken again a little while later this time because he heard his name being called. He looked at his watch and realized that it was only a few minutes before his alarm should be going off anyway. Then he heard his name again. This time it was louder and more urgent sounding. He started to get up when he remembered he had called into work already so didn't really need to be up yet. He moved slowly in the direction of the voice and arrived in House's room to find him already up and rocking at the edge of the bed.

"Got to pee...bad!" House said with urgency. He motioned toward the wheelchair.

"I'm ready when you are." Wilson said. With that he helped guide House to the wheelchair and helped him maneuver into the bathroom, take care of business and then helped him back into bed. They were finding their rhythm. Unfortunately, it was like riding a bike. Neither of them had forgotten their roles from the time of the infarction. He was walking out of the room to go back to his bed when he heard House again. This time it was more House-like. There was even a sort of playfulness to it.

"Hey Wilson... Do you think that we could have some of those pancakes of yours for breakfast today? I'm hungry." House asked.

"Sure House. But first I'm going to get a little more sleep. I'm still pretty tired. I'll wake you up later when they are ready." He smiled and turned to leave. He was happy that he was going to be able to help his friend. He turned toward his room, but then headed into the kitchen instead. He could always take a nap later. It was going to be a long road ahead for both of them and if pancakes could help ease the pain for House on that road, then Wilson was going to make pancakes. He would make the pancakes every day if he thought that it would help.