rp for dr_greghouse_md:

[mcgill_pride]

As Wilson slid the old key into the lock and turned it he was overcome with a distinct feeling of déjà vu. The last time he'd used his key to get into House's apartment was when he'd gone to fetch clothes and necessities for his friend's stay in rehab. Before thatWilson didn't want to think about before that. He paused for a moment and let his eyes

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[dr_greghouse_md]

House was sitting in the recliner with the lamp on, the footrest raised, with one hand on his bad thigh and his head cradled in his other hand. There were some days for him where pain was more than usual, pain he really couldn't control, and this was one of those days. That coupled with the fact that he'd slept poorly the night before didn't help matters at all. It made him grouchy, easily angered, irritable and revolting to be around if he let the pain get to him too much.

Hearing the door open, he cracked one eye open and peered between his fingers to see Wilson stepping into his apartment. Not being one to show gratitude where it was warranted, House shut his eye again and didn't bother to look at Wilson in any other measure of acknowledgment.

But he did say in a low, tired voice, "Wondered when you were going to get your ass over here."

[mcgill_pride]

His feet came to an abrupt halt in front of him and for a brief moment Wilson stood in the entrance of the living room with a look of severity on his face. This wasn't new. Regardless, his understanding of the man sitting in the recliner a few feet to his right didn't make the bad days any easier

[dr_greghouse_md]

Well, at least Wilson didn't start on anything. On the same token, it annoyed House that Wilson didn't make anything of it: if Wilson said anything, it gave House an excuse to fight him, which - in House's mind - justified that he was okay and he'd therefore not to have face Wilson's passively concerned looks.

Thing was, he was too tired to be bothered with arguing at the moment. And he was hungry, and he did appreciate that Wilson had got the Reuben. It was therefore best to stay silent.

Once the food was delivered and Wilson was sitting down, House peeked at him through his fingers again. What, was he just going to sit there and silently watch him eat?

"I get that you're passively caring," House said, dropping his hand from his face. He motioned for Wilson to pass the plate to him because he couldn't be bothered to get it himself. "Watch TV if you're want to silently stare at something."

[mcgill_pride]

When House looked at him, Wilson glanced down at his hands and waited for the quip. It came and he rolled his eyes weakly - turning his head to the left and scanning the cushions of the couch for the remote.

House's motioning caught his eye and he shifted to hand House his sandwich before turning back around to dig through the sofa a bit. Wilson had developed an air of resiliance to House's undiluted poison under these circumstances and was firmly planted on offering up whatever House wanted from him to make things easier for them both.

"Weekend television is horrible," he said disinterestedly when he finally discovered the remote control hiding between the arm rest and the couch. "I wonder why that is?"