Disclaimer: Not mine, just borrowing!

Chapter 1:

Wilson watched House leave his office, anger, annoyance and sadness in his eyes. Since his friend had started dating Cuddy the only time he has time for Wilson is for relationship advice. He found it demeaning to be demoted from best friend to relationship counselor. Sure, he nudged and encouraged House into this relationship with Cuddy but he didn't realize that once the diagnostician was in the relationship Wilson would be forgotten completely.

He brought his shaking left hand down to his leg, rubbing his thigh to feebly try to get rid of the pain he was feeling in his ankle. He had slipped and fallen on the ice a few days ago but didn't even bother to call House for help, figuring that either he'd be with Cuddy or uninterested because Wilson wasn't Cuddy. It was a bad sprain, Grade III, but knowing that didn't make it hurt less while he hauled himself off the ground and heavily limped over to his car to go to Princeton General's ER.

Wilson was surprised and, if he was completely honest with himself, disappointed that House hadn't noticed the crutches which lay behind his desk, leaning up against his Vertigo poster. Normally that would be the thing that would catch the well meaning but sometimes overly protective diagnostician's eye but now he didn't seem to notice or if he did, he just didn't care.

He felt his heart seize with pain at the possibility of House no longer caring about him. It's not like he wanted the older doctor to be a mother hen but some degree of concern shouldn't be too much to ask, should it?

A knock on his door brought Wilson out of his thoughts. "Yeah?" He called before the door opened revealing Chase looking sheepish.

"House needs you for a consult." He replied while keeping his focus on the ground. Chase knew that House was JUST in here and could have told Wilson himself but had forgotten.

"He was just in here." Wilson pointed out knowing that Chase already knew. "If he needed a consult why didn't he just tell me then?"

"He says that he forgot." Chase replied with a sigh. His expression and body language clearly saying Don't kill the messenger.

Wilson raised his hands up to his face, scrubbing it and gently massaging the beginnings of a headache. He took a few deep breaths knowing that it wasn't Chase's fault he'd been demoted. "Is there an image or do I have to go down to the lab?" He asks, not wanting to get up.

Chase cocks his head to the left, looking confused before reality dawns on him and he nods. "It's an image." He replies. "I'll go and grab it. Do you need anything while I'm out?" He ventures unsure as to whether or not he should ask. He knew that Wilson was a private person and didn't like drawing attention to himself nor asking for help but since his supposed best friend couldn't be bothered to notice he was in pain, Chase thought he'd offer.

"No, that's it. Thanks Chase." Wilson replies, a hint of resignation and gratitude in his voice.

Chase opens his mouth to say something but thinks better of it and walks out the door, closing it softly behind him.

Wilson lets out a sigh of relief that Chase didn't argue. He really didn't want House's attention now. He gives his aching temples one last rub before returning to his notes on the patient file before him.

Chase walks in to the conference room of the diagnostics department, not at all surprised that House isn't present anymore. In the beginning he was happy for House, getting together with Cuddy but as time passes he finds himself agreeing with Taub. Cuddy has cut the man's balls off and he now belongs to her, heart (what little one he had), mind (the genius that he once had gone) and body.

Foreman, Masters and Taub all look up at him and then passed him. "Where's Wilson?" Taub asks.

"Wanted me to bring the images to him." Chase replies not wanting to give any further details.

"Is he ok?" Taub asks in his usual, slow and drawn out way.

"He's fine, just busy." Chase replies while he goes over to the first aid kit that they keep stocked in the office. He opens the lid, looks around and upon finding what he wants he grabs it and slips it into his pocket and walks over to grab the images of their patient's liver.

"He's fine. So is that why you're grabbing an ice pack?" Taub counters.

"Is his ankle bothering him?" Masters asks, concern written on her innocent features.

"The man badly sprained his ankle 2 days ago. I'd say it's bothering him. He's lucky it isn't broken." Foreman replied condescendingly as he handed Chase the images. Though Foreman wasn't necessarily close to the oncologist, he did respect him and knew that Wilson liked his privacy.

Chase scooted out of the conference room before anyone else had time to respond. He once again knocked on Wilson's door and waited for the answering "Come in" before he opened it and entered.

Wilson looked up from his patient file and held out a hand for the images. Instead of a film from an MRI or an X-Ray, Chase handed him an instant ice pack first.

"Thought you could use that." He said simply while he looked around Wilson's office. "Do you have anything to elevate your ankle on?"

"No." Wilson admitted with a heavy and uncomfortable sigh. Before he had a chance to tell Chase that he didn't need it the Australian doctor had left, quickly returning with a chair that looked like it had come from diagnostics. "I'm not sure House would appreciate you stealing his chair." He commented lightly as Chase brought the chair around to the left side of Wilson's desk.

"Don't know that he'll notice." Chase dismissed off handedly as he waited for Wilson to place his injured ankle on the chair and the ice pack on top of it. Once Wilson was settled he handed the older doctor the images.

Wilson held up the images and studied them for a minute before he answered, "I can't be 100% positive. You'll need to do a biopsy to confirm."

Chase took the films back, "That's what I told House as well. He said that if that's the case to have you do it but I don't think that's necessary. One of us can do the biopsy and the testing. It's not like we don't know how. Well, I'm not sure about Masters."

"No, it's fine." Wilson responded, putting his hand up to silence the blond surgeon. "If he wants me to do it, I'll do it."

"Wilson-" Chase began ready to argue.

"It's fine Chase. I'll be down in about 5 minutes. Do you want me to just call you when I have the results?" Wilson offered, hoping Chase wouldn't want to accompany him.

"No," Chase replied, "I need to get back to testing the blood so I'll already be there."

Wilson raised an inquiring eyebrow but said nothing. "Ok," he answered, "let me finish with this and then I'll be down."

Chase nodded, understanding that he'd been dismissed and left. He wasn't happy with House for making Wilson do this procedure or performing the test but he didn't think he'd change House's mind by arguing either. He walked down to the nurse's station by the patient's room and alerted them to the biopsy and that they'd need the equipment ready. When he told them that Dr. Wilson would be doing the biopsy they gave him a glare, like he was the one who had ordered the injured man to do it. He ignored it and left to go to the lab.

Wilson made his way down to the patient room, preparing for the looks of disbelief when he told the person that he'd be the one doing the biopsy. He passed the nurse's station, ignoring the looks of sympathy they gave him and went in to the patient's room.

She was surprisingly not concerned with a doctor on crutches doing the biopsy, although he was fairly certain she was more concerned with the possibility of having cancer than an injured doctor cutting into her. He immediately leaned his crutches against the closest wall and limped back to the bed. He stood by the bed for a few minutes making sure he was steady before he began.

Though the procedure only takes about 5 minutes, it felt longer to his weak and hurting ankle. He was thankful when he handed the sample to one of the assisting nurses and asked her to take it to the lab and hand it to Dr. Chase. He was about to turn and get his crutches when he noticed Masters, House's newest duckling, standing next to him with his crutches in her hands. He gave her a grateful smile before leaving, allowing her to get the patient settled again while he went to the lab.

Wilson arrived in record time for a man on crutches to find Chase sitting on a stool apparently debating running the test himself. "Thanks for accepting that." He said, interrupting the younger doctor's musings, "I wouldn't have been able to carry the sample and crutch at the same time."

Chase smiled and reluctantly handed the sample over to Wilson who had made his way over to a testing area while he talked.

Wilson leaned his crutches up against a wall, out of the way, and began to prepare and study the sample. Once he was finished, he was able to view it on a monitor, making him able to sit down for a few minutes.

Chase watched Wilson work with a concealed concern. He knew Wilson shouldn't be trying to put weight on his ankle and yet, because House apparently hadn't noticed that his "best friend" was injured and had "ordered him to perform the biopsy and test", he was. He let out a small sigh of relief when he noticed Wilson pull up a stool and sit down, stretching out his leg before him. He stood up and walked over beside the oncologist, looking at the monitor as well.

"Hepatocellular Carcinoma." Wilson answered with a sigh. "It's cancer."

"Congratulations Wilson, she is now your patient!" A familiar and, for the moment, unwanted gravelly voice said behind the two doctors.

Wilson's body stiffened at the cheerfulness in House's voice but didn't acknowledge him. Chase turned around, crossing his arms.

House stood in the doorway, leaning on his cane and a smile on his face. "Chase, hand our patient over to Wilson." He instructed with a head nod towards his friend. "Hey Wilson, want to grab some lunch?"

"I thought you had lunch with Cuddy." Wilson answered, still facing the monitor.

"Well, we spent our lunch time together but we didn't eat if you know what I mean." House answered crudely but happily.

"Well," Wilson began as he spun around on the stool and stood, limping heavily over to where his crutches were propped up, "since it's 4 o'clock in the afternoon, I'm thinking it's a little late for lunch." Wilson saw House's eyes widen minutely in shock but knew he wouldn't say something.

"Ok," House answered in his normal "Housian" way, "how about dinner tonight? You bring the beer, I'll bring the food."

"Don't you have dinner with Cuddy and her mom tonight?" Wilson asked, his eyes slit in suspicion.

"Nope, I have a dinner to avoid with Cuddy and her mom." House answered like it should have been obvious.

Wilson snorted. It figures House would only want to spend time with him to get out of sharing a meal with Cuddy's mom. "Too bad. Find someone else to help you avoid it. I'm busy."

"Doing what? Sitting alone in the condo, cuddling Sarah?" House argued.

"Actually, I have a dinner date of my own." Wilson answered slyly.

"Eating an omelet while a diabetic cat eats a mouse doesn't count as a dinner date." House countered.

Wilson just rolled his eyes, let out a heavy sigh and then left, heading towards the sanctuary of his office.

"What happened to him?" House asked seriously, stopping Chase before he could leave.

"You should know since you're his best friend." Chase quipped dryly. "It's been all over the hospital for a few days how he slipped on the ice and badly sprained his ankle, damn near broke it." He answered bitterly. "I'm surprised Cuddy didn't tell you." He snarked before he left leaving a confused House in his wake.

AN: I apologize for the short chapter. I had this idea last night before I fell asleep after being annoyed with how little House seems to care about Wilson this season. Please let me know what you think!