It's a rickety old ride at the side of the road, its best days - and probably its last safety inspection - long gone, so Wilson has no idea how House convinced him to give it a try. He'll die soon enough, he thinks, frowning a little as he climbs into one of the worn seats and pulls the safety bar towards him with a worrying rattle, there's really no need to tempt fate this way.

But when they plummet down the not very steep first drop and he feels the wind ruffling his hair, hears House's quiet "whoop" next to him, he finds himself grinning in delight; fuck fate, anyway.