House was grumpy when he got back from dropping Jack off at his friend's. It had taken longer than he anticipated; the mother had had so many questions about Wilson. House had fended her off as best he could. Wilson's wounds were healing well; House's were taking far longer to scab over.
Wilson not being in bed made House nervous. He finally found Wilson in Jack's room going through the clothes in his closet.
"You should be resting."
"I've been resting. I'm tired of resting. I'm exhausted of resting. This is a low-impact activity; let me do it." Wilson leaned on his cane with his left hand and with his right threw a red shirt to the floor. It had been snug on Jack the last time he'd worn it, House remembered.
It would never have occurred to him to weed through Jack's clothes; he'd never thought about it at all. Must have been the Clothes Fairy taking care of that. House looked at Wilson's back and chuckled lightly.
Wilson gave him a quick look and then went back to sorting. A minute passed in silence, and House was thinking of going to get something to eat when Wilson spoke again.
"I wish Jack had a sibling."
"Where did that come from?"
"I remember my mother sorting through our clothes, saving the outgrown items for the next kid down the line." Wilson sighed lightly.
House stared at his knees and picked at a loose thread. "You want a kid with high cheekbones and gorgeous brown eyes? I still have Sarah's number; I can give her a call."
He looked up at Wilson's back, trying to read his thoughts by examining the tension in each muscle. "The chances are still extremely good that your child would be healthy."
"Just no." A blue button-down shirt floated to the floor.
"We could adopt."
"Adopting an unrelated child means social workers in our home, all our history on file, and announcements in the paper." Wilson looked back at him, his gaze curiously impassive. "Do you want any of that?"
The thought terrified House but he tried not to let it show. "Not really."
Wilson turned back to the closet, put his right hand on his hip, and cocked his head. "Just because I wish it doesn't mean I want it."
House got up and walked to Wilson. He wrapped his arms around him and put his chin on Wilson's shoulder. "It's OK."
Wilson was stock still, accepting House's hug but not returning it. "Just because I want it doesn't mean it should happen."
"Come on. Back to bed." House backed up slightly and tugged at Wilson's waist.
"I told you I'm not tired."
"Neither am I. But Jack's out; we have the house to ourselves for a while..."
Wilson turned toward House. "I have two boys, don't I? A three-year old and a teenager." But that smile could not be misinterpreted; House was about to get lucky.