The phone vibrated, it started at about 12:46 AM... Or well that's what the bright red alarmclock beside him said in bold numbers, but he hadn't changed the batteries to the damn thing in a whole year.

1:02 AM. This time he drunkenly reached out to grab his phone, mumbling slurredly to himself as he turned on the screen which blinded him for a profound moment. Wilson figured it was House, one of his escapades at the hospital demanding him to come in or a drunken pickup. It wasn't... Though it was a drunken pickup. His brows furrowed as a colleague he wasn't too familiar with spread across the tiny screen of his flip-phone.

3 Missed calls, 7 Missed messages; "Please pick me up." "I'm drunpjk!" "I dogt feel well."

Without bothering to answer his vibrating phone, he sat up and rubbed his eyes... Is this House 2.0? Nevertheless, he couldn't sleep soundly knowing a coworker of his would be out on the streets all alone... Especially the fact that this coworker was supposedly feeling unwell. The only issue was; he had no clue who this was. He had forgotten to write down their name, probably in a frenzy, as the only thing he had registered under their name was "Work".

He coughed like a early morning squawk of a bird, throwing on a t-shirt and some sweatpants before heading for the door. He couldn't care to dress up for 1 in the goddamn morning.

The sound of his car motor starting rung in his ears, he groaned in exhaustion as he turned out onto the road and headed down to the local bar - That's where he assumed this person would be...

God, this was gonna be a long night.