Disclaimer: I do not own House. All characters go to their respectful owners. I only own this story.

Dwarf Stars

"You're pathetic House."

House glared up at the laughing oncologist. "My cane broke, Wilson. I had nothing to do with it."

"Maybe you're putting on weight. You haven't had any cases recently, right? So that would mean you're just sitting in your office all day while you avoid work."

"I'm not fat."

"Your cane begs to differ."

House looked down at the splintered wood and sighed. "You're an ass. You know that right?"

Wilson held out his hand. "You're projecting, House."

House allowed his friend to help him up. "I'm sure I am. Now help me get back to my office," he said, grabbing Wilson's shoulder for support.

"What am I, your lap dog now?"

"Yes, you're my bitch now, Wilson. If you're a good boy, I'll let you sit in my lap and have a bone."

Wilson increased his pace so House had to struggle to keep up. "What was that?"

"Damn it, Wilson," House growled. "Slow down."

"I'm just getting you some exercise."

"I'm not fat."

"Of course you're not."

"Ah, the nostalgia is incredible."

Wilson looked up at his friend. "I'm sure you'd love to reminisce, House, but I'm a bit tired of looking at gray."

House leaned up against the bars. "What'd you do this time?"

Wilson looked down and muttered something unintelligible.

"What was that?"

Wilson rubbed the back of his head and looked up sheepishly. "I might have started a bar fight."

"Might have?"

"Well, technically, the other guy egged me on, so it was really his fault."

"Oh? And is he in here, too?"

"Uhh… Actually, he's probably at the hospital right now."

House looked surprised. "I'm impressed. What did he say to you?"

"Eh… He recognized me from the hospital and started insulting people I know."

"Go on."

Wilson fiddled with his hands. "He called you a cripple and said you were my pity case when I had nothing better to do."

House put his hand over his chest. "I'm touched that you would send someone to the hospital over me."

Wilson blushed slightly. "If you're really touched, bail me out."

"I already did."

"Then why am I still here?" Wilson asked, standing up.

House watched as the guard opened the door, and stood aside as Wilson passed. "I wanted a good reason to let you out, and you just gave it to me."

"You know you're going to get fired one of these days, House."

House hummed but didn't stop walking.

"How long do you think you can get Cuddy to accept your annoying traits?"

"Annoying?" House quirked an eyebrow.

"You took her coffee and spilled it on her. And then insisted she take her shirt off."

"I was just trying to ensure that she didn't get burned from the coffee."

Wilson sighed. "I honestly don't know what you plan to accomplish by pissing her off."

"Who said I plan to accomplish anything?"

"Your repeated behavior."

"Oh, who asked you?"

"You did. Just now, actually.

House glared at Wilson. "Shut up, Wilson."

Wilson just smiled and kept walking.

"So why are you still here?"

"Because I haven't reached my office yet."

"No, I mean here. As in, with me."

Wilson shrugged. "Entertainment?"

House swung his cane in front of Wilson. "Liar."

Wilson sidestepped the cane and kept walking, making House have to increase his pace to keep up. "You really want to know why I stick with you?"

"No, I don't care actually. I'm just making small talk," House deadpanned.

Wilson stopped in front of his office and turned to face the doctor. "You clearly don't care what happens to you or what any of the consequences are for your behavior, so that means someone else has to."

House remained silent as he watched Wilson enter his office and shut the door.

Wilson knew something was up when House didn't barge into his office. He knew something bad had happened when he didn't reply sarcastically to whatever comments Wilson made to him. And he knew House was hurt when he didn't make one sexually implicit joke towards Cuddy.

So when House had gone home and Wilson had finished his paperwork, he grabbed his car keys and suitcase and made his way to his car in the parking lot.

Twenty minutes and a trip to the store later, Wilson was at House's apartment and knocking on the door.

When the door opened, Wilson caught a glimpse at the trashed apartment and scattered pill bottles. He looked up at House's bloodshot eyes, and held up a case of beer. "Mind if I join you?"

House smiled and let him in.

Wilson didn't ask what had bothered House so much, and House didn't tell him. It didn't matter anyway.

There was nothing a cold beer and a friend couldn't fix.

Wilson had only owned two pets before in his life. The first of which was a pitbull that his brother had gotten when they were kids.

He had hated that dog almost as much as the dog had hated him. Whenever Wilson would come home from school, he would always find that the thing had peed on his bed again. Of course to a seven year old, this had meant war.

Wilson finally "forgot" to let him in one night.

He hadn't come back in the next morning, and Wilson hadn't complained.

The second pet was a stray cat he had found on the street. She had seemed sad and pathetic and Wilson's heart had immediately gone out to her. She didn't wet the bed or bark at nothing. In fact, she didn't speak at all. She would simply follow Wilson obediently and watch as he worked around the house.

But House, being House, had not thought as highly of her. When Wilson had asked why, he had said he just preferred dogs because they could actually do something besides sit around and lick themselves. He had, on several occasions, bluntly stated that the cat would be better off drowning in a river.

So when she suddenly disappeared…

"House? Where's Sneakers?"

"The cat?"

"No, the mailman. Of course I mean the cat."

House looked up from the newspaper. "I have no idea."

"I'm not kidding, House. Tell me where she is. What did you do to her?" Wilson said, sitting down at the table.

"Me? What would I have done to her?"

"That's what I'm afraid of."

House returned to his paper and didn't reply.

Wilson dropped the subject, lest he be late for work.

Sneakers didn't show up again for the rest of the week, and Wilson began to worry. "What if she's hurt somewhere? Or starving?"

After two weeks of constant worrying and ridiculing House for his lack of concern, House became fed up with Wilson's behavior. He made a stop on the way home to pick something up that would make Wilson stop talking long enough for him to get a good night's sleep.

Wilson looked up as House entered, holding a box. "What's that?"

"It's for you." House set the package on the table.

"Is there a reason you put a bow on it?"

"Consider it an apology."

"For what?"

"For killing Sneakers."

Wilson's face crumpled and he sad down quickly. "She—she's dead?"

"Yeah," House said, rubbing his neck, "I accidently hit her with my car on the way to work." House gestured to the box. "So I thought I'd make it up to you."

Wilson opened the box and found himself staring down at the face of a wide-eyed kitten.

"House, remind me why we're here."

House didn't pause in his search through the shirt rack. "I'm trying to help you get ready for your date."

Wilson crossed his arms. "Why do I need a new shirt for my date?"

"Because," House scoffed, as if it was obvious, "you want to look nice when you get dumped."

"Excuse me?"

House glanced over. "Did I stutter?"

"What makes you think I'll get dumped? We're meeting for the first time tonight."

"If you've proven anything to me through the duration that we've known each other, it's that, with you, history loves to repeat itself."

"Well, thanks," Wilson replied sarcastically.

"Hmm…" House hummed absentmindedly as he pulled out two shirts and held them up to Wilson. "Which color?"

Wilson looked down. "How should I know? I don't have the greatest of fashion senses."

"True." House looked around the surrounding area. "Excuse me," he called to a passerby, "could you help us, please?"

Two passing women stopped and turned. "Uhh…sure," one of them said, with a glance towards her friend. "How can we help?"

"Which one of these shirts looks better on my friend here?" House held out the two shirts he had selected.

The two women moved closer and held up each shirt up to Wilson's chest.

"House, I feel like an idiot."

"Shush, we're trying to help."

"I don't need a new shirt!"

Before House could reply, one of the women spoke up, "I think this shade of brown brings out your eyes more. I'd go with this one."

House came up to examine their choice. "Yes, I agree. It does look nice with your eyes, Wilson."

The women giggled to each other. "You two make such a cute couple," one said.

"What?" Wilson asked, bewildered.

"Why, thank you," House said, smiling politely.

"House! This isn't time to be funny," Wilson snapped. Turning back to the two women, he said, "We're not a couple."

"Oh, it's quite all right," one laughed. "We don't mind if you two are gay."

"We're—"

"I'm glad someone finally understands."

"House!"

Wilson didn't get another chance to speak to the women, as they were walking away when he turned back. "Damn it, House. Why must you always do that?"

"Do what?" House asked innocently, turning towards the check out line.

"Pretend like we're gay!"

"Hey, if it gets us out of the store faster, I don't care what I have to do. I hate shopping. Besides, you got a new shirt out of it."

"I don't need a new shirt!"

House dragged Wilson out of his office after having his many invitations to go drinking together denied. They were now lying on the ground under the night sky.

"Do you know what the best thing about stars is?"

Wilson looked over at the man beside him. "What's that?"

"The death of one is the birth of another. They're like phoenixes: they never really go away."

"What about the ones that burn out?"

"What do you mean?"

"Take the sun for example. Eventually, all of the hydrogen will be converted into helium and it'll shrink down to the size of the Earth. It won't go out with a bang; it'll just fizzle out."

"Well that's boring."

"Not everything is exciting, House."

The two doctors stared up at the stars in silence for a few minutes.

"Did you know some stars come in pairs?" Wilson asked suddenly.

"Hmm?"

"It's quite common, in fact, two stars circling each other for eternity. What do you think it'd be like? Being with someone your entire life, I mean."

"I bet I'd get tired of being with them after a while."

"But what if you didn't have anyone else?"

House smirked. "I guess I'd just have to put up with them then." The many lights winked down upon the two doctors, lying side by side in an empty field. "Who knows? We might even become friends."

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