It is the wee hours of the morning, and Wilson is awake to receive the depressing call that his patient died. House is about to roll over back to sleep when all those hours spent in group therapy kick in, and he sits up to tell Wilson that, under the circumstances, it was for the best. See? Their friendship is totally mutual. Wilson changes the subject, because sharing feelings with House is awkward, if not just plain masochistic, so he asks House how his night went. House smirks that they've moved onto a new phase in their relationship, the one where he tells Cuddy he has always liked her and she walks off the dance floor, making him look like even more of an asshole for standing around looking like he just walked out of Colonial Williamsburg. House changes the subject back to Wilson. If I wanted this much back and forth I'd be watching the ping pong championships on ESPN. House thinks it's odd that Wilson's patient would die this weekend. Did he somehow know it would happen while he was away? Um, I know House is a brilliant diagnostician and all, but where did that come from? Wilson doesn't answer and House grabs Wilson's laptop, flips it open and reads his paper. It's on euthanasia. And he's not talking about using it on dogs. (In the inimitable words of Bob Barker, spay and neuter your pets, kids!) House thinks Wilson is due for a quick trip down to the old nut house. He knows a nice one! But Wilson doesn't want to hear it. Although if House thinks you're crossing a line, it might be a good time to reconsider. He euthanized his patient, and he doesn't want to talk about it.