Authors Note: I was bored. I wrote. Number 3 in the 'Dieing conversation' series.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

"Everyone has a fear." House whispered, pulling at the damp, blood soaked rag of a t-shirt he was wearing. He tried to pull the shirt up and off of his torso but his arms wouldn't move, remaining heavily at his side.

Wilson leaned over his friend slightly and pressed his hand harder into his side, trying to stem the flow of blood that was ever increasingly seeping through the wound just below House's ribs.

Wilson had been worried about House all day, he hadn't turned up for work, which on its own wasn't very unusual but it was when House neglected to call him at 6pm that he had started to get worried. No matter what people though about House there was always one truth about him, he kept his promises, no matter what they were, or he wouldn't make one he couldn't keep. And House had promised to ring at 6pm every day that he was absent from work. A promise he usually kept.

So to try and ease his worries Wilson had headed over to House's apartment, only to find the door broken in and his best friend lying half on, half off the couch in a very uncomfortable looking position. It was then that he noticed the red trickling out from his side, seeping in to every fibre of the couch. Quicker than he'd ever moved before he'd hurried over to House, pulling out his cell phone and dialling 911 as he did so.

"Everyone. It's a natural thing. Everyone has to fear something, sometime in their life." He agreed, still pressing hard into his friend's side, allowing the blood that was still escaping the wound to cover his hand, reminding him of the life that lay so vulnerable under his touch. The life of his friend.

Before House could keep on with his almost completely incoherent rant about fears Wilson interrupted him.

"What happened Greg? Who did this?" He pleaded, gazing at his friend who was lying almost completely still on the floor, his breathing laboured as he struggled with the pain.

House moved his head to the side, taking in the view of Wilson, looking at him for the first time since he had heard him enter and call for 911. He could see the desperation in his friend's eyes, and another emotion, one he couldn't quite place, something he had never seen reflected in his friend before.

Turning his head back as far as he could without causing himself more discomfort he broke eye contact with Wilson, completely ignoring his question.

"What are you afraid of Jimmy?"

Jimmy shifted position and willed away the tears that were threatening to fall, surely to be accompanied by gasping, retching sobs. Something he couldn't afford to happen, he knew House wouldn't want to see him weak to see him cry, over him of all people. But it was getting harder and harder as he realised just how serious his injury was.

"I'm afraid –" He paused, trying to think of something to say, anything that wouldn't give it all away. " – I'm afraid of…myself." He almost rasped out the last word, only realising its complete and utter truth after he let it slip.

House tried to turn his head again but found he couldn't, and he struggled, his hands shaking, to try and take Jimmy's hand into his grasp. "Why?" Was all he could get out before he lost his breath and had to relax his body again, losing his grip on Jimmy.

"Tell me who did this to you Greg. Tell me what happened and I'll tell you why I'm so afraid of myself." Jimmy whispered speaking a little bit louder as the sound of sirens could be heard in the distance, signalling the now soon arrival of the ambulance.

But with every wail of the siren Greg was getting weaker and Wilson knew that he wasn't going to last, the sad realisation causing the tears to again prick at his eyes and sobs burn his throat.

"I used to be afraid of the dark. I used to be afraid of the monsters that hid in the corner," He tried to crack a smile, but the pain shone through his pale features and it became more of a grimace. This sent another pang of regret, desperation and concern through Wilson's heart.

"Who did this to you Greg?" He repeated again, hearing the wailing of the sirens stop as they pulled up in front of House's apartment.

"I used to hear noises in the night, I used to think my father was coming…"He drew in a ragged breath, "I think that was the thing I was most afraid of. My father….maybe it wasn't the dark."

Wilson heard the paramedics enter the apartment and he gripped Greg's hand tighter, still using his other to press against his side. He decided to ask one last time before he lost his friend completely.

"What happened Greg? Who did this?"

He reluctantly released Greg from his grip as the paramedics moved over, and he watched as his friend wearily closed his eyes, taking one last breath before he ended his pain.

"I did it Jimmy. Because I'm not afraid of the dark anymore." House struggled to draw in another breath, "I'm not afraid anymore Jimmy."

And Jimmy stood there, tears falling from his eyes as he watched the blood covering his hand drip to the floor, each drop marking the end of his best friend.

End.