Little closing chapter to this little fic. Thanks for reading, everyone.

House opened his eyes what seemed like an eternity later, blinking at the light. Wilson was standing over him, looking worried.

"You've been sleeping for nearly 20 hours, House. You need to eat something, drink something. Come on."

House groaned. 20 hours? His leg was gonna give him hell.

He slowly sat up, blinking in surprise when his leg didn't even twinge in protest.

"What the…"

He looked down in dismay, startled to see his jeans pulled off. He was in his boxers and tee shirt only. His hand found a small white patch on his thigh.

"Fentanyl?" he questioned, legitimately confused. "Why…"

"You…" Wilson hesitated, rubbing his neck. "You were pretty restless. I figured it was your leg."

House blinked. He didn't remember much, just hazy recollections of pain now that he thought about it. Surprised, he muttered "Thanks," before he could think about it too much.

Wilson nodded, handing him his cane and a pair of pj pants. "Come on. Dinner is cooking.

House shook his head. Dinner? Of the next day? He had been sleeping a while.

Slowly, he made his way to the table, the drugs clouding his mind just enough to screw with his balance. He slumped down at the table, putting his head down on his crossed arms. Wilson set a steaming cup of coffee in front of him, and House drank it gratefully.

Before long, he and Wilson were chowing down on some of Wilson's cooking. House, for the first time in days, felt good.

"Cuddy doesn't want to see your face for a few days. That's a direct quote. Mine either, for that matter. So we're stuck here," Wilson said tentatively, waiting on House's reaction.

To his surprise, House grinned. "Good. We need to catch up on my porn collection."

Wilson smiled in return, feeling the depression of the last few days slip away with House's comment. It seemed like things were returning to normal.

He spoke up, though, before House could move on too far.

"That can't happen again, House," he said quietly. "You scarred all of us. We were… afraid for you."

House scoffed, but inwardly he seemed to take Wilson's words into account. "Trust me, I don't plan on doing anything like that again any time soon."

Silence rang in the room, and a moment later, House eased Wilson's worry.

"And… maybe next time," he said slowly, chewing, "I'll tell you before it gets that far."

Again, thanks for reading. This fic has gotten me through some hard times, and your reviews can only help me when I'm feeling like the world is spitting on me. You don't know how much it helps.