Wilson looks good like this - in his white shirt, from behind; stressed and disappointed and hopeless.
He looks around in his own office - the room that used to be his office to this day. Until House - his loyalty, his friendship, his devotion to him - cost him his job.
And he still has to ask a favour of him.
"I'll ask some people," he sighs, because that's just what he does; he would still do anything for House, no matter how often he chooses his own ego - or what he thinks is right - over Wilson.
"Do it now, James. Please."
Wilson looks up from his papers and other stuff he's collecting in boxes - years and years of studying and practising medicine, years and years of hiding from your wife between pounds of books, reports and germs suddenly don't take up as much space anymore.
There's only one thing in the world that makes House say these words - please and your very first name - unironically; he only does it when there's something else he wants. Something that hasn't anything to do with patients, his job and/or Wilson's medical expertise. Something... more personal.
"Fine. I'll make a call or two, and I'll do it right about now, but only if you tell me what else it is you want."
"You," he rasps out. "You look good like this. Hurt. Desperate. In a St. Sebastian kinda way, if you get me. And I wanted you to fuck me in this office since forever, but you just always were way to uptight to allow it, and now is our last chance. You know you want it, Jim."
"I can't believe it!" Wilson can't help but laugh. "You're really using my demise to fulfill some stupid sex fantasy of yours?"
"A demise you brought upon yourself. You voted against firing me and lost your own job. Vogler's a big fan of quid pro quo, or so it seems. You knew the risk and took it anyway. Maybe this is just my way of saying thank you?"
House is the king of cheap lies and painful thruths at the same time, and he has this way of saying things that when he talks, everything he says sounds like sarcasm.
"You never say thank you."
"Yes, because I always find a way around it. A different way of... showing my gratitude."
House says these last three words like they're dirty, leaving a bitter taste on his tongue.
"I hate you."
"No, you don't. Now please make a few phone calls and say that again."