I own nothin'. Hilson.

"Wait for me," House said bitterly, wincing with every step he took. Wilson walked ahead of him, hands in his coat pocket as he strode into the crosswalk.

"You should've just stayed inside," Wilson told him, glancing over his shoulder as he spoke. "Your leg isn't going to feel better in the cold."

House grumbled under his breath, trying to go faster to catch up with him. Wilson was already in the middle of the intersection by the time House got a quarter of the way in.

"Why won't you wait for me?" House whined mockingly, and Wilson slowed his steps as he got closer to the other sidewalk.

"I'm mad at you and I wanted to have a walk alone." Wilson turned to face House, waiting impatiently for him to hurry through. The crossing light started blinking numbers at him, telling him he only had 20 seconds left to get the hell out of the crosswalk.

"I told you I'd help you carry the beer home."

Wilson chuckled, shaking his head in resignation. "You can't even walk to the convenience store across the street at a good pace without carrying anything."

"You are so judgmental when it comes to cripples."

"Perhaps we should have brought a wheelchair."

House was almost to Wilson now. He could see the emotions flitting across his partner's face, agitation, concern, and impatience swirling in his eyes.

From behind Wilson's left shoulder, House saw a silver sports car barreling down the turn lane. He opened his mouth to tell Wilson to get the hell out of the way as the car slammed on it's brakes and turned right.

"Move," House said, his words too quiet for Wilson to hear.

Everything slowed down around them. The crosswalk clock blinked 5 seconds at him. The silver car's tires squealed as it turned into the lane Wilson was standing in front of. House dropped his cane while Wilson turned, surprised.

The impact, House noted numbly, was nothing like the movies. There weren't any horrified screams from pedestrians around them, at least he didn't think so. Wilson didn't hit the middle of the car, which House thought was a good thing. The upper half of his body hit the hood of the car and he went a few feet like that before he crumpled to the icy ground. There was no flying fifty feet before landing and getting up a few seconds later with only a minor concussion.

Wilson was badly hurt, and House knew that before he got hit.

Bystanders were rushing into the intersection now, and House was stunned to see that he was already on his knees beside Wilson's immobile body. He didn't remember getting there, but his curiosity about that shattered when he started assessing Wilson's body.

"Don't touch him!" Someone yelled at House angrily. Another person was speaking to a 911 operator on the phone in hysterics.

"I'm a doctor!" House snapped, shoving hands away from him. He knew he couldn't do much physically, but he could talk to him. "Wilson? Can you hear me?" He asked, placing his lips beside Wilson's ear. Relief flooded him momentarily when he got a small groan in response. Blood pooled around them, and from what House could see, it was from his head. "Don't try to move. An ambulance will be here in a minute."

He heard someone yelling about the driver of the car. Who gives a fuck about the driver? House wondered angrily, running his hands lightly over Wilson's right leg. He was in a fetal position, so there wasn't much he could see. The damage would be inside his body, though, so it didn't matter to House if there were broken legs or arms. Blood came out of a small puncture wound on Wilson's knee, and he felt ill.

"Stay awake, Wilson," House told him, forcing his voice to be steady and firm. Wilson's eyes fluttered a few times in response. "It looks like I won't be the only cripple around," he said weakly, hearing sirens in the distance approaching. Wilson's lips turned up in a pained smile for a brief second before his eyes closed again. "Stay awake Wilson. If you have bleeding on your brain, you need to stay awake."

The words were for House's benefit more than Wilson's; he knew if it was bad enough, Wilson would pass out regardless of what he said. House's first reaction to any situation was to analyze it logically, and it was a comfort to him that he was staying focused as he watched his best friend slip into unconsciousness.