Cuddy pulled up outside House's apartment and turned off the cars engine. "House?" she asked. House was still staring out the window, like he had been for the whole drive back. Cuddy couldn't see his face, but she thought it was safe to assume that he wasn't actually looking at anything, more likely he was just avoiding looking at her. The only reply she received was a rapid inhalation of breath and a twitch of his hand. "House?" she repeated. She stretched out a hand to tap him on the shoulder, but before she made contact he flinched away and quickly turned to face her. His eyes were still red and puffy, but Cuddy didn't think he'd been crying again, she would've heard him, she didn't think he had the will to cry silently anymore.

"Wha…" House attempted to speak, but his voice cracked and he couldn't even finish the word. He closed his eyes and drew in a slow, deep, calming breath and tried again, "What?" he managed to croak out.

"Um, we're back." Cuddy flicked her hand towards her window, to indicate the apartment, House's eyes followed her hand and he nodded. "So, um, I think we should go inside now, okay?" House's eyes dashed around, and he started picking bits of imaginary lint off his jacket, but eventually he nodded.

Cuddy went around to the passengers side of the car and gave House a hand getting out. House grunted and leaned heavily on his cane. "Are you okay?" asked Cuddy. House nodded and started to shuffle off towards the apartment. Cuddy opened the door into the foyer and helped House up the steps, then unlocked the door into the apartment (Wilson had given her a key sometime ago. 'In case of emergencies' he had said, but she used it all the time now) and stepped inside, House followed closely behind her.

Inside the apartment, the lights were off, except for a small lamp on the table beside the couch. The TV was on, but the volume was turned low, and it was almost inaudible. Wilson was sitting on the couch, his feet resting on the coffee table in front of him, it looked like he was asleep, but Cuddy flicked the light switch to on anyway.

Wilson jumped to his feet with a yell, and tried to shield his eyes from the light with his arms, evidently he really had been asleep. Wilson groaned and let his eyes slowly adjust to the light. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and blinked. "Cuddy? House? You're back early," he noted with a frown. House ignored him, miserably shuffled off to his bedroom, and slammed the door. Wilson flinched at the noise and turned back to look at Cuddy, who was still standing by the door. "What's the matter with him?" he asked.

Cuddy sighed, closed the front door, and started to walk towards Wilson. "We need to talk," she said.

Wilson took his place back on the couch, and Cuddy sat down next to him. "What happened?" Wilson asked, scrutinising her face for clues. "Look," Wilson pre-empted, before Cuddy had a chance to reply, "if this is about what happened before you left; it was a mistake, and I know it shouldn't have happened. The nurse I pay to look after him while I'm at work had just called, and said she couldn't come this week, I was frustrated, and I made a mistake." It was an easy lie to tell. He'd realised his mistake almost immediately after House and Cuddy had left. He hadn't wanted Cuddy to spend too much time with House until his shoulder was fully recovered, so he had snapped when Cuddy wanted to look after him all day. He had guessed that Cuddy wouldn't just let the incident go when they got back, so he had called the nurse and told her he didn't need her to come in for the week. He knew Cuddy would still be mad, but at least now he would have a fairly good excuse for getting so angry, and she wouldn't find out about what had happened the other day.

Cuddy nodded, but her face stayed serious and stern. "I understand that, but it was inexcusable and it can't happen again. House isn't in a position where he can defend himself, or understand what's going on with you. You absolutely can't take your anger out on him, ever. If I ever, ever, see anything like this happen again, I'll take him away from you before you can so much as say sorry."

Wilson pushed himself to his feet with a long drawn out sigh, and started pacing and rubbing the knot of tension in the back of his neck. "I know, I know." He stopped pacing and leaned up against the couch. He lifted his hand in surrender and put on a face of earnestness, his best puppy dog eyes, that he saved for occasions such as this, and stopped blinking so his eyes would start to water (a technique he learned as a child when he wanted to get his own way). "I promise it'll never happen again, and if it does, feel free to take him from me. I was frustrated, I was angry, and I took it out on him. I shouldn't have."

Cuddy nodded stiffly. "Sit down." She sighed. Wilson obeyed. "Look, this isn't something I can just forget about, it's House's wellbeing, his health and happiness, we're talking about here. But I also know you're a good man, and I know you'd never set out to hurt him. It's only expected that you'll get frustrated from time to time, it would be a miracle if you didn't, so for now I'm just going let it drop. Next time you get angry, just yell at me instead." Wilson dumbly nodded along, like a nodding-dog on a rollercoaster.

"Thank you," he said smiling weakly.

Cuddy shook her head. "You can thank me by making sure it doesn't happen again."

Wilson nodded again. "Is that why House is upset? Does he think I'm still mad at him."

Cuddy averted her eyes. "No." She shook her head, and turned to look at the door that led to House's bedroom. "It's nothing to do with that." Wilson frowned, he had no idea what else the problem could be, but Cuddy looked sad, not angry, so he didn't think she was lying. "His bird, that crow - Russell - it died."

Wilson was speechless. He'd only seen the bird twice himself, he didn't take House to the park very often. But everyone else took him all the time, and he had heard countless times how much House loved the thing. Wilson wouldn't deny that House's obsession with the bird could sometimes annoy him, but as long as other people were the ones wasting time taking House to the park to see it, he didn't mind, and it was actually rather nice to see House so happy. But now the bird was dead, and House was throwing a tantrum. "Dammit," Wilson muttered under his breath. "What happened?" he asked.

Cuddy shook her head. "I'm not sure exactly. It looked like it was attacked by a dog, or something. House found him."

Wilson leaned his elbows on his knees and ran his hands down his face. "Crap," he mumbled. Wilson stood up and walked over to the front door. "Look, I think you should go. I need to talk to him about this."

Cuddy followed Wilson over to the door, and he opened it for her. "I understand. Make sure he's okay. I'll come see you both as soon as I can." She smiled weakly, and left.

Wilson closed the door behind her, turned around, leaned up against it, and breathed a sigh of relief. "Thank god."

Wilson pushed himself away from the door, locked it, and went over to House's bedroom. He slowly pushed the door open a crack, and the loud creaking it made reminded him that he really needed to oil it sometime. "House?" He pushed the door open further and allowed the light from the hall to illuminate the darkened room. "House?" he asked again, as he stepped further into the room.

House was lying fully clothed in his bed, his still sneaker clad feet poked out of the bottom of the blankets and his coat was tossed on the floor. "Go away," House mumbled then turned over to face away from Wilson, but Wilson ignored him, picked the coat up and hung it on the back of a chair. "Go away," House repeated, his voice partially obscured by the sheets he had his face wedged in.

Wilson walked over to the foot of the bed, gently lifted House right leg and began uniting the lace. "At least let me take your shoes off," he said. House said nothing. "I'm sorry about Russell."

"No," House grunted. He attempted to kick Wilson in the stomach with his left leg, it was weak, and Wilson barely felt it, but it was the intention behind it that annoyed Wilson. "Go away," House repeated.

"Fine!" Wilson shouted. He carelessly threw House's leg back down, and House yelped at the pain the sudden movement caused. "If that's how you want to be, I'll leave you to stew in your own misery. I was just trying to be nice." House flinched at Wilson's harsh tone, and looked at him pathetically, Wilson frowned at him, turned away, walked out and slammed the door behind him.