Disclaimer: I don't own House or any of its characters.

Summary: Takes place after the events with Detective Tritter. House and Wilson have been fighting and their friendship has hit rock bottom, can House having an accident bring reconciliation between them. House / Wilson strong friendship only (Hurt/Comfort)

Mangled Asphalt

Chapter 1: Crash

Pain…so much pain, that's what he felt as he slowly opened his eyes. He felt cold; the pavement was chilled beneath his skin. For a moment he lay disoriented, looking forward, watching as two red taillights began to speed away. The sound of the screeching tires echoing eerily into the darkness. His mind was reeling. He tried to process the details of what had just happened. Tilting his head slightly, he looked over at his mangled motorcycle that lay several yards away. A groan escaped his lips and his face contorted in pain.

"O-oh God!" he choked.

He could feel the constant flow of pain coursing up and down through his limbs. There was no one, for the streets were empty. No one was coming to help him. He cursed himself now for letting himself get into this situation. He had known when leaving the hospital that he shouldn't be riding his motorcycle. He could see that the weather had been deteriorating. Rain had continued on and off through the day. His pride had kept him from asking Wilson for a ride home.

He cursed himself for letting things between them get this bad, for pushing his friend so far away. Their relationship had been stressed the last few months in the aftermath of the events with Tritter. After a heated argument they had had recently they hadn't spoken a word to each other for the past two weeks. They had been avoiding each other as much as was possible for two men that worked together, and when they did see each other a look of distain was past between them. Now, ironically Wilson was the one person he'd do anything to see at this moment.

'Does that mean I care?' The answer to his question would mean his efforts to hide behind his self made formula for all relationships had failed, because his logic was wrong.

He never would admit to being afraid, but he was. It was a constant in his life, much like the pain that he tried to endure every day.

'Fear…a fear of what?' He asked himself.

Maybe, it was a fear of being alone, no that wasn't it he was always alone. Through the years he had come to a conclusion by weighing the pros and cons of two subjects that had tormented him. His decision had been the most logical, or at least that is what he tried to believe. The logic was this: that the pain of being alone was far more tolerable than the pain of loosing those that you love so dearly, thus bringing him to the significant conclusion that he was better off alone. Having acquaintances leads to talking, talking leads to bonding, bonding leads to friendship, friendship leads to caring, caring leads to trust, trust leads to love, and love leads to pain.

'To betrayal' he added cynically.

These were the eight steps to his formula for disaster, though to most it appeared as nothing more than twisted logic. It was twisted in a way; it was the twisted logic of a man who had experienced a lifetime of emotional hurt.

'Wilson' His thoughts returned again to the younger man as he pictured the oncologist in his mind. He was his friend, his only one for that matter. He had always tried to keep Wilson at the 4th step on the formula scale, but was that even possible to do? He was safe as long as Wilson was only a friend right? He groaned inwardly as he felt reality winning the argument with his reasoning. His logic was faulty and he knew it, because he knew deep inside that you couldn't really have a friendship without caring, or without trust already being there. Maybe that's why he tried so hard to fight it everyday, because living in denial felt better. Better than knowing he had failed to keep everyone completely away, and that someday the pain of loss or the pain of betrayal would find him again.

House let his thoughts drift back to his situation. His philosophical arguments were not getting him anywhere. He let his mind assess his body a limb at a time, but most of the pain had slowed due to his lack of movement. His abdomen felt strange a slight clinching pain resided there. He was a diagnostician he could guess what was wrong.

'I'm going to die' he told himself.

'Alone'

He let a deep frown crease his features as he swallowed nervously, letting a tear escape his glazed eyes.

'It's ironic' he thought as the truth hit him hard.

'I don't really want to die alone after all.'

MDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMDMD

A/N: I wrote this several months ago. It's in dedication to my friend Graham who was killed when someone ran a red light. He was young and still had so much life left to live, and I'll miss him everyday.