Chapter Text
Dear Dumb Diary,
Today Jimmy smiled at me. My ovaries exploded. I think he's gonna propose, on account of him being guilty of obliterating my reproductive tract.
Love, Greggypoo Wilson~
House grinned at his handiwork and nodded. His shrink had only said he needed to journal, she didn't say what about or how.
<÷×÷>
Surprise, surprise, Doctor Nadine was far from impressed. She sighed heavily after she read House's diary and then tried to remind House what therapy is all about.
Blah blah emotional rehab blah blah misanthrope blah blah yadda yadda.
<÷×÷>
Dear Dumb Diary,
Today Nadine was m-m- mean to me!!? I'm so depressed I could just… I could just… Dot… Dot… Dot…
Anyways I bought Wilson lunch today and he was surprisingly delightful the rest of the day. Think I'm gonna get a blowie outta this one, Diary?
Love, Greggypoo Nadine~
<÷×÷>
Nadine didn't like that entry any more than the last one.
"House," she started, looking down at the sparkling pink notebook House had dropped in her lap.
"Oh shut up," House sneered. "I wrote about some feelings in that one, even mentioned self-destructive behavior. This shit should be like psychological meth to you."
"I wouldn't know," she said with indifference. "I've never done meth, have you?"
"Clever girl," he pointed at her but shook his head anyway.
"Alright, then let's talk about this 'Dot… Dot… Dot', huh?"
<÷×÷>
Dear Dumb Diary,
Today Nadine asked to see my wrists. It was exhilarating, and while I've never been one for exhibitionism, it did get me freaky in the weenie to show her my bare body in an office that anyone could walk into.
Oh to hell with it, I'm a huge exhibitionist.
Wilson is too, apparently, since he flaunts his adultery all the time. Like come on, he's cheating on me? His longest, bestest pal. Forget about his wives, what about my emotional pain from his betrayal?
I think I could get Cuddy to fire him if I told her I wanna jump him, just to keep me from being happy. But she would never believe me anyway, and I would never do that to my Jimmy ~~!
Love, Greggypoo Wilson-Cuddy-House~
<÷×÷>
Nadine sipped boredly at her tea when House strutted in, rolling her eyes a little when he handed over the diary and plopped on her bean bag chair.
"I got that chair for my clients who put in the effort that's expected when they attend therapy," she said as she flipped to his latest entry.
It had been written in a neon green gel pen. She didn't bother looking up, Nadine already knew House was sporting a shit-eating grin.
"You care an awful lot about Doctor Wilson," she said off-handedly, mainly trying to see how he would react.
House only shrugged and looked out her window. "I love him, he's my best friend," He said lamely.
She glanced up at him and he grit his teeth when she began scribbling away about whatever he had just said that apparently was so important.
<÷×÷>
Dear Dumb Diary,
Today Wilson came over. We watched The Breakfast Club. He got drunk. I got high. I don't want to be his friend anymore.
<÷×÷>
He twitched a little in his beanbag chair as Nadine reread the entry for the fourth time.
"Come on," he groaned awkwardly. "It's twenty-five words, twenty-eight syllables. Are the words too big for your shrink brain?"
"Gregory, I'm going to kindly ask you to shut up," she hummed.
"Then how would we do therapy?"
"Why would you not wanna be Wilson's friend anymore?" She asked, looking up at him.
House twitched again and picked at a loose thread in his jeans. "He's just not what I'm looking for in a friend."
She wrote something down in her notebook and took in a sharp breath, "Alright, and what are you looking for in a friend?"
He didn't respond.
"Gregory," she tried, like an irked mom.
"Doctor Nadine."
"Just Nadine is fine," she smiled and went back to writing some random shit. "He's the reason you came to therapy, correct?"
"Just House is fine for me," he snapped back, ignoring her question.
She paused and set the pen down slowly. "Why don't you wanna be Wilson's friend anymore?" She asked again.
"He's a lousy friend," House shrugged flippantly. "But I heard he's a great fuck."
<÷×÷>
Dear Dumb Diary,
Vicodin didn't work today. Slammed the door on my hand instead. Worked just fine. Wilson looked like he was gonna cry when he started bandaging it all up.
W: House, House, This is self-harm.
I wanted him to shut up so bad, he wouldn't know self-harm if the scars were staring him right in the face. He didn't know.
I commented on knowing my way around a razor blade once, but he didn't try asking. Is it because I'm not approachable or because he doesn't care?
<÷×÷>
"You're not approachable."
"Awesome," House clapped his hands together. "Now that we know my problem, can I leave?"
"House, you are not being forced to come here. You are paying-" House cut her off.
"Actually, Cuddy and Wilson are paying," he flicked his wrist.
"People who care about you are paying for this, but you can go whenever you want."
"Doesn't feel that way."
"I think this is the only way you can convince yourself that you need this," Nadine crossed her arms. "You can't just be doing this because it will help you, you've convinced yourself that you're forced to be here."
"Cuddy would fire me if I didn't come," he cocked his head like Gotcha! He subtly left out the part where Wilson would be heartbroken and would never let it go.
"Cuddy might fire you if you didn't come."
"God, not the hypothetical game."
Nadine gave him a fake smile and pointed to the bean bag chair. "I hate the hypothetical game too, let's talk about your self-harm."
<÷×÷>
Dear Dumb Diary,
Wilson got drunk again and kissed me. I kicked him out.
I hate him.
<÷×÷>
Nadine looked at him with surprise when she read the two sentences he had scribbled down.
"You… hate him." It wasn't said like a question, but he knew it was meant to be one.
"No," House sighed and squirmed a little. "This bean bag is not fucking comfortable."
"Move to my sofa," she rolled her eyes. "So you wrote that you hated Wilson but you don't?"
House dragged himself over to her sofa and flopped down, arching his back a little after a moment and closing his eyes.
"I hate that he kissed me."
"Because he's a man?"
"What the fuck," House's eyes snapped open. "No. That's not my problem."
"It isn't?"
"No, I've kissed men before, I've never hated myself for it."
"Ah, you're…" She looked at him expectantly.
"Bisexual."
"Bisexual, lovely. Why would you hate Wilson for kissing you?" Nadine probed.
"I don't hate him, I hated the act."
"The act?"
"He didn't mean it," House spat. "It was just an act, he didn't… He didn't mean it."
"You'll have to ask him about it. You can't be sure."
<÷×÷>
Dear Dumb Diary,
Wilson barged into my office today. He apologized for kissing me because clearly he had violated a boundary and he never meant to do that to me.
It made me blush a little, I'll admit.
I told him to get his panties out of a twist because I didn't care that he kissed me and then I came out and Wilson was very supportive.
It kind of went a little something like:
H: I don't care that you kissed me.
W: Clearly you do, man.
H: Man…
W: Oh that's it… You don't like men like that.
H: You don't know that.
W: Shit my bad, that's right, I forgot you were the poster boy for the gay community.
H: Bisexual.
W: Oh… Okay.
H: Okay.
Then he left my office and I didn't follow him because I'm crippled and he knows that. He's a dick.
<÷×÷>
House canceled his next appointment with Nadine.
He spoke to patients to avoid Wilson.
He drank a bottle of Jack to avoid driving home.
<÷×÷>
"You got a new bean bag," House said lamely when he entered her office the following week.
"My favorite patient hated it," she took a sip of her water.
"You did something to your hair," he sat down awkwardly and relaxed a little. "This chair is much better."
"I know," she paused and cleared her throat. "You didn't give me the journal yet."
"I didn't write in it," House grumbled.
Nadine raised an eyebrow, "I doubt that… Was it Wilson that you didn't write about?"
He didn't say anything.
"You said a couple of sessions back…" She flipped through her clipboard and sighed. "I love him- Wilson- He's my best friend. Does this notion still stand?"
"It does."
"You also said…" More paper flipping. "He's a lousy friend, but I've heard he's a good fuck. How about that notion?"
"It also does."
She paused again and then took another sip of her water, "You're in love with him."
"Unfortunately."
They made eye contact and she slumped with him, scribbling something down.
<÷×÷>
Dear Dumb Diary,
Wilson came over tonight. He had beer and The Dark Knight, so I let him in. We watched a little bit and then he said, "Christian Bale is genuinely so hot."
And I informed him how gay that statement was.
He rolled his eyes and quietly told me that it was actually bisexual.
I told him that he just wanted to be me. He told me he just wanted me.
He's asleep next to me, it's really nice, really warm. He's got good moobs. He's my best friend, he's a great fuck, and I love him.
<÷×÷>
House woke up to Wilson kissing his chest softly.
"Hiya," he croaked and felt a smile against his skin.
"Mmm," Wilson hummed back. "Good morning."
"You're still here," House whispered.
"I'm not going anywhere, promise."
House didn't say anything else, only arched his chest closer to Wilson's warm mouth.