New style... new fic, same results?
Alternate take on the end of Merry Little Christmas. House doesn't steal the pills, doesn't OD, Wilson still finds him on the floor... while helping House through the pain, Wilson realises something... this epiphany is long overdue. House Wilson friendship, of course! Rated T.
House has been on this floor far to many times... he has almost memorized the texture of the wood underneath his scalp, actually; that's what he entertains himself with in this particular position. When he is ruled sejak pain and hopelessness, he marvels openly about the insignificance...
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