Chapter 5:

The drive home was quick and quiet. Cuddy apparently understood that Wilson desired silence and therefore offered nothing but. He did catch her glancing at him every so often, probably trying to gauge how he was doing, but he ignored it, pretending he didn't notice.

They arrived at the front door in no time and Wilson gently climbed out of the car while Cuddy exited her side and came over to him. "Do you need any help getting in?"

"No, I'll be ok. Really, all this wasn't necessary but I do appreciate it." He told her sincerely.

"Of course it was important and not just for the health of other drives but more importantly for yours. If it hurts to put weight on your ankle you shouldn't be walking on it." She reasoned.

He smiled warmly, "Well thanks for your concern for the drivers. I'm sure the New Jersey police are quite grateful." He jokes.

She laughs and pulls him into a gently hug and hands him back his keys. "Have a good night Wilson and feel better. Let me know if you won't be in tomorrow."

"I'm sure I will be. It's just a mild sprain." He replies before she heads over to the car that Lucas is in and slides in. He watches them leave before he limped towards the front door.

Wilson opens door and drops his briefcase in shock. The entire place is immaculately clean from floor to ceiling. It definitely wasn't like that when he left this morning. House isn't necessarily one to clean, leaving Wilson to do it by himself but with his back being bad he hasn't had a chance to in a couple of days and with House, that lets things pile up.

His attention is quickly drawn to the kitchen by the smell of garlic, basil, tomatoes and peppers. He drops his stuff onto the armchair and limps over to the kitchen, holding on to the wall to take as much weight off his ankle as possible.

He walks in to see House in a fairly nice pair of jeans, a button down shirt and an apron. His cane is leaning up against the counter with the sink and he's limping around the kitchen retrieving things from the refrigerator. Wilson notices that Ol' Blue Eyes is on in the background, crooning his way through "Fly Me to the Moon".

Despite the pain from his ankle and the uncomfortable twinges in his back, Wilson feels himself relax for the first time since walking in to work this morning.

House turns around from the stove, smiling a wide smile that reaches his eyes, warming them. "Ah, you're home." He says as he limps over to Wilson and gathers him up for a deep and passionate kiss. "Good. What do you think of Osso Buco for dinner? I hope you're for it because I've already got it mostly made."

Wilson just stood there with his mouth agape. "What- you- how?" he stuttered, completely lost for words.

"I wanted to make you dinner and while I was at it decided that I'd clean up a bit. Well, actually I hired someone to clean up because I wasn't going to be able to do it all and I wasn't about to try either." House explained.

"So, you leaving early because your leg hurt was a lie?" Wilson asked, putting things together almost instantly. He wasn't angry about House lying to him, in fact he was quite touched by it.

"Yep! Though, my leg does actually hurt it's just no worse than normal." House replied with a grin. "You should change into something more comfortable, dinner will be ready soon." He proceeded to ramble while he chopped some red peppers.

Wilson didn't have much else to say so he did as he was told, the process taking far longer than normal but it was quite nice to be in a comfortable pair of jeans and a button down shirt that doesn't have the smell of the hospital on it. He limped back into the kitchen. "Do you need any help?" he asked.

"Nope!" House replied while he placed a lid on top of a pot. Wilson quickly realized that he didn't recognize the pot. "You should go sit down on the couch and get your ankle up."

"How did you know about that?" Wilson asked, narrowing his eyes suspiciously.

"I have spies everywhere." House replied maniacally.

"Chase told you didn't he?" Wilson asked, once again his mind quickly filling in the pieces of the puzzle.

"Yep! Who do you think called Cuddy?" House asked. "Now go sit down on the couch and get your ankle up, I'll be there in a minute to take a look at it."

Wilson once again did as he was told but only because sitting down REALLY sounded good at the moment. He all but collapsed on their couch and grabbed one of the pillows, placing it on the coffee table before he gently laid his ankle on top.

He settled back on the couch, allowing it to engulf him in soft comfort, and closed his eyes. He felt a hand gently caress his face. He opened his eyes to see House sitting on the coffee table, his blue eyes full of concern.

"How are you doing?" House asked genuinely.

At that tone Wilson knew he wouldn't be able to lie to his partner. "I'm alright. My back is sore but not bad and my ankle and foot are throbbing."

House nodded. "I brought an ice pack over with me but first I want to inspect them." He said right as he gently grabbed Wilson's leg, right in the middle of the calf, and steered it onto his leg, placing in right at his knee.

House carefully took the sock off, something Wilson hadn't bothered doing since he hated walking around the house barefoot unless he physically couldn't put his socks on. House winced as the sock revealed a well sized bruise starting just below Wilson's pinkie toe and snaking along and up to where his foot arches and another bruise was forming on his ankle. Both were swollen, though House had a feeling that the foot swelling was due to the ankle sprain.

He examined Wilson's ankle and foot, feeling his heart clench whenever Wilson let out a hiss, groan or grunt of pain. House grabbed the compression bandage that he had brought with him and started to wrap Wilson's ankle before he gently replaced it back on the pillow and placing an ice pack on top of it.

House grabbed Wilson's hand and squeezed. "I'm sorry." He said.

Wilson had been watching House while he examined his ankle, feeling his annoyance at House's attack ebb away completely when he observed House's look of concern and guilt as he did so.

He sat there staring at his best friend and quite possibly the only person who, besides his family, he has ever truly loved. He saw the depths of guilt, pain and remorse in those ocean eyes. Wilson placed his other hand on top of House's and squeezed. "It's ok." He replies, knowing that the apology was for more than the sprained ankle.


They made small talk, well small for them, while they ate. They sat at the kitchen table instead of the couch with each man using and extra chair for his injured limb. The meal was amazingly good and the wine went wonderfully with it.

Once the dishes had been cleared away, House came back and sat back down, staring at Wilson. "Why didn't you tell me you had a weak ankle?" he asked.

Wilson nearly choked on his sip of wine. The condition itself wasn't a secret it had just been so out of the blue that he wasn't expecting it. "House, you know my medical history." He replied.

"Yes I do, but it says nothing of a weak right ankle." House countered.

"It wasn't a big deal, I figured I'd wait til it came up." Wilson defended. "What made you think of it?" he asked.

"When I can injure your ankle by whacking your foot, it sends up flags." House replied. "If I had knowing I wouldn't have hit you on that side."

"Hm, now here's a thought. Why don't you try not hitting me with your cane at all." Wilson suggested, growing a little bit more annoyed that House finds it ok to hit him with the cane at all. He's always done it, every since he had the cane, but that doesn't meant that Wilson had liked it, he just tolerated it.

"How else would I wake you?" House asked, feigning innocence.

"Try shaking me awake or kissing me. Kissing me is a wonderful way to wake me up." Wilson suggested.

"But then you might have morning breath or something. Yuck!" House protested.

"House." Wilson growled out a warning to let the other man know he wasn't playing around.

"Alright, fine. Next time I'll try kissing you instead of whacking you with my cane." House replied petulantly. "Happy?"

"Ecstatic!" Wilson exclaimed as he stood up and began to limp towards the bedroom.

"Wilson."

That one word stopped him mid limp. The pleading and apology in the tone making it hard for him to walk away mad. He awkwardly turned around, leaning against the wall.

Instead of an apology House says, "You should let me help you to the bedroom. You've got a grade II sprain and shouldn't put any weight on it for a couple of days at the least."

Wilson nodded tiredly allowing House to pull his right arm over the older man's left shoulder. Wilson hadn't wanted to lean on House as much as he did but after the break off his feet, his ankle didn't seem to want to take any weight on it even though he tried forcing it to take some.

They made it to the bedroom where House left Wilson to crawl in and get comfortable while he went and grabbed some Aleve and the ice pack.

Wilson slid onto bed after changing into sweatpants and a t-shirt. He had wanted to crawl under the covers but having the weight of the blankets being forced to allow 2 pillows as well as a leg would hurt and he decided he'd just grab the blanket from the armchair beside the bed and sleep with that. He grabbed the two pillows House had apparently placed in there beforehand and put them in place and slipped his throbbing ankle on top of them, laying his own head down on his pillow.

House came in carrying a bottle of water, Aleve and an ice pack. He handed Wilson the water and Aleve while he placed the ice pack on Wilson's ankle and threw the blanket over the younger man.

House proceeded to get changed into sweats and a shirt, popped a few Vicodin and climbed in bed, cuddling up with Wilson. Even though he'd never tell Wilson this, every time he held the younger man in his arms it felt like he had the world. He felt like he could fly without wings, fix all the wrongs and never be harmed. And every time he let go it felt like reality came crashing down, obliterating him.

He pulled Wilson as close as he could, careful of the pressure he placed on him. He'd hurt his friend enough in the passed few days, he didn't need to do any more damage.

Wilson felt House pull himself closer and he relished in the feel of House against him. He knew that House loved him more than anyone he's ever known and that HE was one of House's most prized possessions even if Wilson wasn't something to own, he was House's in every way, shape and form. He knew it and he loved it. He loved House body and soul and that was what kept him around.


~fin~

AN: Well, that's it everyone! I hope you all enjoyed the story. I might be tempted to do a sequel or continue the story but only if I have enough requests, otherwise I think I ended it pretty well. PLEASE Review and let me know what you think, I love reading them!