Wilson was worried. Well, he was awake which made the worrying almost a given but he was also starting to get a bit angry, which was somewhat unusual. Although when he did get angry 90% of the time it had to do with House, mostly angry at House but occasionally angry at people who were messing with House. Today the anger was directed at people in that last category.

They never got it, there was a real reason House only took on one patient at a time, two if the situation were critical enough. He obsessed, his mind had no shut off valve. One case could keep him up all night playing with different scenarios looking for one that "fit". Six cases running at once could put him back on the Vicodin or worse, back in Mayfield. His leg was already killing him, the exaggerated limp, the pill popping (whatever he had in that bottle, Wilson was less convinced than ever that it was just ibuprofen) he'd already lost weight and basically he looked like hell. Granted the circumstances were unique, two hospitals had had to close due to the snow storm, each had sent House a patient, then Cuddy had agreed to take on three more when the call had come from the Center for Communicable Deseases asking her for help. And he was still running tests his own patient, a child, that was never good for House. Not that he got overly emotional about a sick kid, just that they were even less cooperative then adult patients and they usually came with annoyingly concerned parents. Cameron used to deal with them, 13 not quite so good at it.

God, he wish Cameron was still here, She took care of him, cared about him. Like making sure he ate. Well, at least that was one thing he knew how to do, get him to eat. House had just paged asking for his input on the latest test results. So, he had run to the cafeteria and bought one turkey sub, one large order of fries, one large order of onion rings, and one large milkshake. Two wouldn't have worked, it had to be one of each.

He carried the tray over to the table and sat watching House jump from one white board to another. Six patients = six white boards. "These three are all supposed to have been exposed to the same bacteria, but check this out." House turned to hand Wilson the test results.

"Sit down" Wilson nodded toward the chair across the table from his own as he lifted half the sandwich to his mouth and took a huge bite.

House sat, still looking at the white boards, he reached back and took the other half of the sandwich.
"Don't smile, it wasn't that damned clever."

"It worked," Wilson smiled and slid the tray closer to House.

"Fine, now the test results." "Not here. In your office, you in your chair with your feet up"

"Don't push it., Wilson, I'm tired" House had stuffed his mouth with an impressive handful of onion rings.

"That's my point, How long has it been since you slept. "

Before House could reply Taub ran into the office, the tests had gone wrong, the results were totally inexplicable, he needed to re run, but he had a thought. Maybe if they added...before he had finished the sentence, Chase came in, obviously straight from the OR as he was in his surgery scrubs, "Need you in observation now,"

It was Cuddy's turn to come barging in. "The CDC is on the phone do you have the blood smears done yet? I promised them.."

Taub had given up and was trying to get Wilson's attention, something about two test results that totally contradicted each other.

Chase butted in, staring at Cuddy, "Operation in progress trumps a phone call. House, I need you now."

House got up, leaning on the table for balance he reached for his cane, but it wasn't there.

Wilson was holding it, "Out." he used the cane to motion to the door. "Everyone"

"Hand me my cane and I'll be the first to leave." House was not amused

No need to actually say anything, one look from Wilson and House sat back down, "You heard him, everybody out."

"The tests" House handed Wilson a blue file.

"In your office, in your chair, feet up and lights out"

House stood up and motioned for his cane, These were the times that tested Wilson's soul. To trust or not to trust. Sometimes he just knew instinctively, other times, like today, he felt like a living Charlie Brown running toward the football, half expecting to fall on his ass.

The smile, the arched eyebrow, the eye actually changing hue, becoming a softer warmer shade of blue. That was when Wilson smiled, that was when he knew.

He sighed, got up and handed House the cane and then went and stood, arms crossed, in front of the door to the hallway.

Now the smile was real. House turned and went into his office.

"Fine," he said a little less annoyed that Wilson had expected. "I'm in my chair, my feet are up, shut off the lights and give me your take on the test results."

Wilson tossed the file onto the desk without ever opening it, "Inconclusive, Now shut up and try and get some sleep."