Don't own them. Any of them. In any capacity. In any dimension. At any time

A/N Third and final part. House and Wilson talk about Kutner and a surprising fact about Wilson pops up in the conversation. No, I repeat no, slash just good old strong friendship.

If any of them seem OOC I take responsibility.

Enjoy :D

House removed his grubby jacket and took a seat on Wilson's black leather couch while Wilson had excused himself to go to the bathroom. He rummaged through the white plastic bag that he had placed on the coffee table and removed a beer from it's cardboard packaging. They had stopped at a cheap looking garage on the way back from Kutner's, purchasing three boxes of twelve pack beers to sustain them for what was going to be a long evening.

House went to take a swig from the bottle when he noticed the top was still on the bottle. He groaned as he realised he would have to go into Wilson's kitchen to get the bottle opener. As he was about to get up Wilson appeared from the bathroom.

"I'll get that for you." Wilson swiped the bottle from House's hand and bit the top off with his teeth.

"Where the hell did you learn that?" House gratefully took the bottle back from Wilson's grasp.

Wilson shrugged. "I don't actually remember. I think I just used to bite things a lot when I was younger."

House chuckled as Wilson took his seat next to House on the couch. The tension in the room was palpable as both men sat tensed upright in position. Neither knew how to start the conversation off.

Eventually, it was Wilson who made the first move. He was the one who had forced this situation onto House in the first place so it felt only right to him that he try and make this work. He took a huge gulp of beer to steady himself and placed the bottle onto the table. "So..." The words escaped him for a few moments. He had practised this all the way back from Kutner's apartment so why was he freaking out now? He took a deep breath. "So...um... you wanted to talk?" Wilson exhaled in an unintentionally loud manner.

House raised his eyebrow in Wilson's direction. "What have you got to be nervous about?"

"You said you wanted to talk. That makes me nervous because I don't know what you're are going tell me."

House nodded. He appreciated Wilson's apprehensive nature and concern about what he might hear.

"Also, I expected some sort of apocalypse to occur when the time came when you wanted to talk about something to me. So far the Four Horsemen haven't arrived so I'm good but I'm on the look out." Both men took another generous drink of their respective drinks. "So are going to tell me why you didn't come to the funeral?"

House fiddled with the neck of the bottle. Wilson felt he may need some more encouragement to open up.

"Come on House. I didn't spend forty dollars on beer so we could get drunk in silence." Wilson nudged House in the arm, try to coax him out of his self-imposed silence.

"Closure." That was all House said. A single word. But that single word signified a heavy door being pushed ever so slightly ajar.

"What?" Wilson feigned ignorance hoping it would encourage House to say more than one word.

"Closure. It's closure."

Wilson gave House a gormless glare. He kind of understood what House was getting at but wasn't sure if it had any relevance.

"Do I have to spell it out for you?" Wilson nodded in affirmation and House rolled his eyes. "A funeral represents closure. How can I go to a funeral when I won't get closure? What's the point? I need to know why Kutner did what he did first. Then I will get my closure."

"That makes sense I guess." Wilson was surprised at how reasonable House's explanation actually was. He was expecting a long, drawn out, rational argumentation but instead he had got a pretty straightforward answer. It was almost too simple for Wilson to really swallow. He didn't buy that this was House's only reason.

"Plus standing around hundreds of crying people isn't my idea of fun. If I wanted to do that I would just go down to the Oncology ward." House finished the last of his beer and put the empty bottle on the floor.

"Nice." He was right though Wilson thought. The Oncology ward was probably the most depressing place in the hospital, apart from the morgue perhaps. But even then you knew those people were dead and no longer clinging on for dear life unlike the people Wilson had in his own care.

Wilson reached into the bag on the floor and cracked open another beer which House took eagerly. "So that's it. That's the reason you didn't go to the funeral." Wilson looked at House inquisitively. "Why didn't you just tell me this at his apartment?" House shrugged in reply. "So there is more?"

"Jesus. You're like a dog with a bone. You just have to keep chewing away."

"It's my industrial strength teeth, what can I say?"

House gave a weak smile at Wilson's quip. However, the smile faded quickly and his face turned to a more sombre state. "I don't know."

Wilson leaned over to meet House's gaze. Don't clam up on me now. "You do know. Come on House. It's just you and me here. You can tell me."

House flicked his eyes up to see Wilson looking at him intently, waiting for his answer. He brought up his hands and covered his eyes. "I just couldn't do it."

"OK..."

"I got up this morning intending to come; I had even picked out a suit and had it hanging up. But I couldn't. I froze." House began shaking his head gently. "I just couldn't do it."

"Why not?"

House scratched his unshaven chin and grimaced. "I felt like I was going to my own funeral. It was strange."

Wilson's face turned from interested to being completely bemused. "I..I..I don't get it. This is a bit abstract even for me."

"OK. Why did I hire Foreman?"

Wilson stumbled on his words, confused by the sudden tangent the conversation was taking. "Um.. Because he had a record and he was a good doctor."

"Why did I hire Cameron?"

"She was and still is hot and she was a good doctor."

"Why did I hire Taub?"

"You were intrigued by his reasons for applying and he was a good doctor." Wilson started to follow what House was getting at but he still wasn't entirely sure.

"Oh you're good. Why did I hire Kutner?"

"Um.. He was a lot like you and he was a good doctor." He hadn't noticed it himself, but Wilson was sitting considerably closer to House than he was before. The deep and intense conversation had distracted him the fact he was moving on the seat.

House leaned back and pushed Wilson back to the other side of the couch. "What are you doing? Get back to your own side pretty boy."

Wilson quickly shuffled back into his former position. "Sorry about that."

"I'm trying to talk and you're coming onto me." House turned his head away in mock disgust.

"No, no, no. I wasn't I was just..." Wilson then noticed a small smirk creeping across House's face. "You ass." He hit House on the arm, who then rubbed the stinging patch of skin.

"But yeah you were right."

"What? About you hiring Kutner because he was like you."

"Yeah. I hired him because he had the same admirable attitude as me towards patients. He cared more about the discovery and investigation instead of the pandering patient crap. He also had a sense of risk. I mean that thing with the defibrillators and the wet patient. I was in awe."

"He nearly killed himself and the patient!"

"Sure. But if he hadn't of done that the patient wouldn't have been cured and would have died. Then I would've been lectured by you and Cuddy for not doing my job."

Fair comment thought Wilson. House was right, that woman would've died with Kutner's crazy intervention and there was no other doctor there who would have done such a thing apart from House himself. "You also hired him because he reminded you of a healthy and happy House. Am I wrong?"

House tossed back another gulp of beer. Wilson had hit the nail on the head. House suddenly felt vulnerable with his motives exposed for Wilson to see and pick apart. He could feel Wilson's eyes boring into the side of his head, awaiting an affirmation or a dismissal of his observation.

"House? Am I right or wrong?" Wilson got his answer from the look on House's face. A tinge of awkwardness mixed with a healthy dose of anguish. He was right and he felt oddly proud of himself. "House?"

House manoeuvred himself nervously in his seat. "If that's the way you want to put it, yes. I guess I also wanted to see what it was like being a boss to someone like myself. I learned it was never boring."

"I can imagine." Wilson ran a hand through his hair as it was beginning to flop into his eyes repeatedly like an annoying bug flying around his face. The information House was feeding him was beginning to make some sort of sense although not every piece was in the right place. "So how does this fit in with your inability to attend his funeral?"

"Are you actually awake? Usually by now you would have conjured up some inane and absurdly analytical explanation for everything I have told you."

Wilson shrugged. "I thought I would give you the chance to talk instead of me assuming things. I know it's a problem of mine."

House raised his eyebrows at Wilson before letting out a deep sigh. "I thought Kutner was happy. I am guessing everybody else did too."

Wilson nodded. "Yeah. I thought he was happy."

"But he ended up putting a bullet in his head." A pained look sprung on Wilson's face at House's blunt declaration.

"And you think if the so called 'happy' Kutner can end up killing himself then what hope does a 'miserable' House have? You think if a guy like him can do it then why haven't you?"

House didn't answer but Wilson knew he had hit home.

"God House, that's twisted logic even for you. Kutner, as much as he was like you, is not you. You come from different backgrounds, different places. You have had different experiences. You can't compare yourself to him as much as you think you are like him."

"It mustn't be that twisted if you managed to get it."

"I known you long enough to know how your mind works House. You shouldn't feel that way about yourself. You have a life worth living."

House outstretched his arm. "Give me another beer." Wilson reached down and gave his friend another bottle.

"Do you admire him for doing what he did?"

House cocked his head and sighed. "In a way yes. He was unhappy and had the balls to do something about it. I just sit on my ass, either high, drunk or both. You just twiddle your thumbs and think things over until you bore yourself to tears."

Wilson was astounded at what he was hearing. "You're telling me Kutner was courageous, that what he did was right. His family and friends are torn up about it. How can something that does that to your own family be courageous?"

"You can tell you have never tried doing it"

"What? Suicide? How the hell would you know?" Wilson shut his mouth before anything else could escape from it. He knew he had said too much already when he saw House's mouth drop open.

"Go on..." House was more than intrigued. Wilson wouldn't have made such a comment if there was nothing behind it.

"What?"

"Don't act dense. You wouldn't say that for no reason." He prodded his index finger into Wilson's left shoulder. "You know how many times I have tried. You've seen most of them..."

"Well that's because you're insane."

"But you. You've never tried since I have known you, not even when you have had a bad patch. You haven't even mentioned anything like it."

Wilson put his head in his hands and cursed under his breath. It was one of the few things he had never told House about. Even his parents weren't aware of it nor his wife at the time or any of his subsequent wives. Only two people knew about it, himself and the guy who he shared his old student apartment with.

"It was your idea to talk Wilson."

"Yes but about you. Don't try to make it about me."

"I won't talk until you talk."

Fuck. Wilson took a slurp of beer. "Why do you want to know anyway?"

"Duh! I am interested to see all of Saint Jimmy's flaws."

Wilson shook his head. "It was a long time ago when I was in Med school. It's ancient history."

"And? Come on Wilson you can do better than that."

Wilson knew House wouldn't let it drop. He thought might as well just tell him what happened even though there wasn't really that much to tell. He tossed his empty beer bottle into the bag that lay at the side of the couch. "I was in my third year at Med school. Danny had gone missing a few months previously, my marriage was starting to fail and I was having problems with anxiety attacks."

"You had anxiety attacks?"

"All the time. Third year was the worst by far. I was having them nearly every morning before lectures and nearly every evening before I went to sleep."

House was surprised. He knew his friend had a nervous disposition and sometimes wondered whether Wilson was in the right profession, but he had no idea that Wilson used to have this much of a problem.

"And I went home one evening and I had had enough. I knew some guy was selling Ritalin to students to help with exam prep so I bought some. I can't remember how much and I had no idea what strength they were. So... yeah I just took them. That's it."

House seemed underwhelmed by Wilson's story. "What? That's it. Did you not go the hospital?"

"Honestly, I can't really remember. I remember passing out. Then waking up and vomiting for hours and I kept seeing flying horses and flowers everywhere. I know I missed a few days of lectures because of it but after a few days I was fine. That's it House. Seriously."

Wilson hoped he had satiated House's curiosity about his mistake in early adulthood. House eyed Wilson warily before deciding that there was nothing more to discover. Even in trying to do something abnormal Wilson still managed to be distinctly normal about it.

"Anyway House..." Wilson glared at his friend."...you honestly thing what Kutner did was courageous?"

"Yeah kind of. I suppose it would have helped if he had no friends or family but there is always going to be causalities. But he did something he thought was right for him and that concept is admirable in a way."

"Yeah but the concept has to be in context. In Kutner's case it just wasn't. It was a senseless loss of life."

Silence fell over both men. They both clasped their beers tightly as the atmosphere became tense once again. House began running his finger around the top of the beer bottle, making a whistling sound as he ran it faster and faster.

Wilson cleared his throat. "Do you feel responsible?"

"For what happened to Kutner?"

"Yeah."

Wilson was praying House would answer truthfully instead of arrogantly dismissing his query. His prayers were answered. It looked like the evenings conversation had softened House up a little.

"Yes and no. I mean he put that gun to his head and pulled the trigger. I didn't. But at the same time he died and nobody had noticed anything leading up to it. Noticing things is what I do and how can I miss something so crucial and huge like a fellow colleague's depressive actions." House's eyes began to moisten around the outside and turn an increasingly angry shade of red. "I mean I have been in that state of mind myself many times before. I've been in that damn mindset." A single tear rolled down House's cheek. "And I didn't notice a damn thing!"

House began sobbing into his hands. Wilson had not been prepared for this at all and with five beers in his system he had started to feel uneasy. He awkwardly placed his arm around House's shoulder and pulled him in for a hug. He could feel his friend twitch on his body as he continued sobbing into Wilson's chest. "It's not your fault House. It's nobodies fault and you shouldn't feel responsible at all." Wilson felt himself welling up at seeing his friend in such emotional pain.

House sniffed back and gave out a small splutter. "I was his boss. I should have done better for him."

"You did all you could and I bet if you could ask Kutner he would tell you the same thing." Wilson sniffed back hard to compose himself. "Dammit. You're making me cry now."

Both men were sobbing onto each other. Wilson's hand had slipped down onto House's back and House had slipped further into Wilson's chest. For the first time they were sharing their grief in the same way and, more importantly, together.

"God you're so sentimental." House slowly composed himself and he began wiping away his tears on his sleeves. He looked across and saw two wet circles on Wilson's blue sweater. "Sorry about that."

Wilson looked down and pulled the bottom of his sweater out. "Oh don't worry about it." He then wiped his own eyes with his own sleeves.

"What are you crying about?"

"Nothing. Just you crying I guess and the fact you opened up to me. It was nice. I feel honoured." Wilson began dabbing the wet patches on his sweater with a tissue. "I meant what I said though. You shouldn't feel responsible. None of us should but I know that's easier said then done."

House rubbed his eyes hard, adding to the fiery red colour they were before. "I guess."

"I am just going to change my sweater." Wilson rose out of his seat and headed towards his bedroom, leaving House contemplating what had just happened. He had never cried on Wilson's shoulder like that before. Even after the infarction and after Stacey left, he had never broke down in the way he just had done. Maybe he was getting soft in his old age, maybe Wilson was just getting better at making him talk or maybe Kutner had meant more to him than he had ever truly realised.

House got up off the couch and sought out Wilson in his bedroom. He leaned on the door frame and watched his vain friend adjust his hair. "What are you doing?"

Wilson jumped, startled by House's voice. "Nothing. Just changed my sweater that's all."

"Can I ask a favour?"

Wilson patted down the last bit of stubborn hair and turned to face House. "Sure."

"Does Kutner have a plaque somewhere? You know with him being cremated."

Wilson nodded. "His parents had one put down for him today."

"Could you take me there tomorrow?"

"Of course. I am only on call tomorrow. Cuddy gave me the day off. You can stay here tonight if you like. I think we are both too drunk to drive anyway."

House smiled. "Yeah. That would be great. Do I get the bed?"

Wilson rolled his eyes and gave a knowing smirk. "I knew you were going to do that. But yeah. You can have to bed."

"Thank you."

"No problem. I got used to sleeping on couches when I was married."

"No I mean for today. Thank you. Really." House averted his eyes to the ground, turned and walked out of the room, leaving his good friend smiling in the mirror.

A/N Done! I hope you enjoyed and it wasn't a big old let down.

Sandblasted And Set Free- Maximo Park 2007