nothing could change the way i see you

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It was an impossibly hot day in New Jersey. It was around noon, and the sun was beating down mercilessly, not a cloud in the sky to lessen the blow. They were on the fourth day of a heat wave, and it felt like it was never going to end. The days stretched out with the horrible heat. The air conditioning in House's apartment was struggling to keep up. Even with the curtains drawn and the air up as high as it could go, the place was stiflingly hot. The air was thick and heavy and made you want to do nothing but lay on the floor and melt– which was exactly what House was doing. He had been alternating between lying on the floor and standing in front of the freezer in search of relief. It certainly didn't help that another person was occupying the space. House's apartment wasn't small, but on the hottest day of the summer, sharing it with another fully grown man was not fun. Wilson was sprawled out on the couch, occasionally shifting so his skin wouldn't stick to the leather. House groaned as he hoisted himself off the ground to stand in front of the freezer once again.

"You know, you'd be a lot more comfortable if you weren't wearing jeans," Wilson said to him, not for the first time since the beginning of the heat wave.

"I'd be a lot more comfortable if you would stop bumming around on my couch," House tried to put as much contempt into his response as possible, but he just sounded miserable.

On top of just being incredibly hot, the weather was absolutely not helping with his pain. He had been downing Vicodin like you wouldn't believe, much to Wilson's dismay. House opened the freezer once more and leaned his head in. The initial breath of cold air on his sweaty skin felt like heaven, though that didn't last for long. The cold air was quickly beaten by the stifling heat, leaving House once again without relief. As House began to hobble to a new spot on the floor, Wilson peeled himself off of the couch and stood in front of him. When House stopped, he swayed a little. He was leaning heavily on his cane. If you were to nudge it even the slightest, he would topple right over.

"I've had enough of listening to your misery. Take off the jeans. You're going to give yourself heat stroke," Wilson began lecturing the man before him.

"Getting hot for me, Jimmy? I thought it was just the heat wave," House quipped feebly.

Wilson just sighed in response to that. "I'm serious, House. You look five minutes away from passing out. Go change into something a normal person would wear in 105° heat." His voice had a very final sound to it. He wasn't taking no for an answer. He was tired of House's lack of self-preservation.

"My choice of clothing will not make that big of a difference."

"A difference nonetheless. Go." He took a small step back for House to get by and pointed to his bedroom.

House just continued to stand there. It wasn't that he wanted to remain miserably hot. He certainly didn't enjoy this. Not only was his outfit completely inappropriate for the weather, but the rough fabric of his pants was rubbing against the overly sensitive scar tissue of his thigh. If Wilson were not there with him, hell, he'd probably lounging around completely naked. But the gnarled pit on his thigh was something he never wanted to reveal to anyone if he could help it. Since the infarction initially happened, Wilson had only seen what remained of his thigh a handful of times– when he was left taking care of House after Stacy had left –and those times had not been much of a choice. It wasn't about thinking he'd be judged or ridiculed, House gave very little thought to what others thought of him. No, it was that House himself didn't even want to see the mangled skin. Whatever the opposite of someone's pride and joy was, that was what his thigh was to him. Something to be hidden and neglected. If not for the pain, he would choose to forget it exists at all.

"House." Wilson's voice was firmer this time.

And yet, House remained still. "I can't" He spoke softly.