"You left things hanging with her. bạn didn't even talk to her before bạn left."

Wilson was calling. It was their first phone call in a month. His voice was fairly unsteady and shaky, as House spoke calmly, however, with a sense of regret and pain in his voice.

"I left things hanging--for a reason."
"She needs to know why. Why, and what."
"Just--I haven't spoken hoặc seen her in days. The last thing I can do for her right now is have her visit me."
"Just talk to her. She doesn't even need to come. Just call her."
"And what."
"You don't even need to tell her anything. Just let her know, you're okay. I will deal with that-part of the situation."
"No, no, no. You'll end up fluffing it up and make her feel guilty."
"How would I be--?"
"Somehow, bạn just will. That's what bạn do."
"I--?"
"Can I go now Jimmy? I've got my special group giờ to attend to."
"Huh. Just think, about calling her."
"Yeah, yeah."
"Bye House."
"Bye Wilson."
=================================================


House had already been gone a month. The empty, hollow feeling was still and steady as it rested and ventured through the hospital walls. His room remained empty and untouched since. The only thing to pass would be the gleaming lights of the sun and the moon, alternating back and forth as vast shadows were cast along every wall, every piece of microfiber carpeting, and every furniture, that lay still in that room.
In his outside office, Thirteen, Foreman and Taub all sat, clueless just thinking about what they could do now. As they did so, they all looked into House's inner office, studying the emptiness of it all, and realizing the deadened silence that echoed. Their concentration was interrupted bởi the bold and fast paced movement of stilettos changing from tile to carpet. Her dark stilettos matched her dark pencil skirt, which matched her dark v-neck, which was relatively close to her cardigan. She slowed as she entered the center of the room.

"I uh. Are. Do bạn think bạn guys can handle another case?"

Foreman just gave her a look of half pity and half resentment. She didn't know why, but it seemed to be thêm towards himself, than her.

"Gimme."

He stood up and she handed the file to him. He sat back down and examined the case carefully as Taub waited for the differential to begin. Thirteen however, was focused on Cuddy. She was about to make one of her, "healing the situation" speeches.

"He's getting treated. And that's what counts."
"That's really the kind of pep talk bạn were planning to give to us?"

Thirteen was the first to reply. Actually, the only one to.

"For being the Dean of Medicine, your reassurance isn't a comfort. And, frankly we don't need it. We know what our boss is up to and how he's doing, we don't need bạn to sit bởi our side and hold our hands while he's gone."
"I'm just doing my job."
"Well, we're trying to do ours. And this whole tháng you've constantly checked up on us to see how we're doing, when we're doing them and how we're handling things with him gone. bạn can't babysit us Cuddy. bạn can do that with House himself, for bạn have a reason. But, not with us."
"Frankly, I think her obligation is to another someone at the moment."

The soothing tone of Wilson calmed their agitated voices. As he walked in, the doors swung closed, trapping the noise and tension inside.

"I agree. bạn are needed somewhere else thêm than here."
"Very, thêm so than here," Foreman finally added, while keeping his eyes glued to the file. Taub remained silent and Thirteen finally turned her face away from Cuddy. Wilson gestured her to leave with him and they walked out, leaving the team at peace.

"They're right."
"Relatively."
"Very."

They made their way down the quiet corridor back to Wilson's office. When they reached, Wilson took his place behind his bàn and Cuddy took a ghế, chỗ ngồi much farther, towards his couch, an unusual spot for her. She kept her head bowed, keeping her Công chúa tóc mây hair in her face as she twiddled her fingers, messing with her watch, and cracking her knuckles, giving herself something to do, to ignore....everything.

"Have bạn talked to him yet?"

Wilson just stopped at his bàn and rubbed his face a bit. Not out of irritation, hoặc aggravation, but out of sadness.

"Yeah. We talked last night."

The pauses between them were far too long. It was like a conversation, slowly dying into a sad silence.

"You're too quiet. bởi now, I'd have expected bạn to give me a speech about why I haven't called him yet."
"I. I myself can't grasp the situation at hand. I'm holding, barely."
"Even so. bạn still have the urge to give me one."

He looked at her and sighed.

"You're moping around the most because, bạn feel like you've failed. bạn feel like you've failed as a boss but thêm so as a friend. And that factor has kept bạn guilt ridden for days. Not only guilty but also scared. But moping and being afraid, aren't helping to mend the situation. His relationship with everyone here has broken. It's been cut off. And his relationship with you, has been tampered with. bạn need to let that break heal, instead of making it worse bởi mentally pushing him away. And bạn shouldn't be feeling guilty, hoặc feeding yourself any pity. bạn should be doing what bạn know bạn do best, which would be, helping him through this."
"Sounds about right."

He gave a faint laugh. She had rose her head and stared at him, giving half a smile.

"You need to see him. hoặc just call at least. Reassure him. But discreetly, so he doesn't feel like he's getting pity from you. Let him know you're here for him."
"I find it hard to even dial the damn phone without breaking down."
"You could just be hormonal. You're not on your period hoặc something are you? You're not pregnant right?"
"No."
"You sure I shouldn't consult with House?"
"At least bạn have the courage to talk to him."
"And why are bạn lacking?"
"Our last encounter wasn't our best."
"So what? bạn aren't even meeting him, the only thing in contact is your voices."
"Even then."
"Imagine how all this is for him. He poured out all his thoughts into one hallucination. He practically confessed his tình yêu for bạn to himself, because he probably didn't even believe it in the first place. He showed himself what he wanted, in a way that lead him to believe that it was true. Then it backfired on himself and he ended up in a psych hospital."

As he was talking, Cuddy has risen from her ghế, chỗ ngồi on the đi văng and moved toward his desk. Her face was confused and slightly upset.

"What?"
"What."
"You never told me. Do bạn know what he--?"
"Damn it."
"Wilson."
"I know why, he did what he did and--what he--"
///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

House was lying down flat on his bed, on hàng đầu, đầu trang of the scratchy and unusual sheets that were wrinkled and matted. He threw a penetrating stare at the empty white ceiling above him as he kept his arms folded behind his head. The patient tiếp theo to him appeared to be asleep, in a very refined position, unlike House who was practically sprawled out over his bed. After several moments, House began to speak to himself in whispers.

"She was there. I was there. There was no possible way I could've hallucinated it all."

He shut his eyes and the hình ảnh appeared in his mind once again. However, they seemed to be faded. He couldn't grasp every moment that he knew occurred. They all seemed so vivid and so real before, but now, they seemed as hình ảnh formed in a thick fog, hoặc the nhanh, swift smoke that would recede out of a cigarette. That's exactly what the hình ảnh were doing now. They were receding, like smoke, disappearing in thin air. The only image that still appeared vivid was her face, fast asleep, on his arm. It was the only image that he could still distinguish properly. He could see every detail. From how her eyes twitched, how open her mouth was, and how her hair fell upon his forearm. Yes, this he could still remember--despite the fact it wasn't real.

"Her heart, her mind, her body, and her soul were there that night. I felt her, I heard her, I smelled her. She was in my arms and she never let go."
"This must be one heck of a gal bạn got. Too bad you're locked up in here."

House turned his head: the patient in the tiếp theo giường had woken up. She remained in the same position as she had slept, but her eyes were wide open. Her blue eyes, very open, and her very short boyish hairstyle auburn hair still and straight.

"You could hear me from here?"
"When you're locked up in the loony bin, bạn have the tendency to enhance some senses. For me hearin', cause I eavesdrop on every conversation with the nurses n' staff so I know what's goin' on. Whispers, aren't a problem for me."
"Why bạn here?"
"In your presence, in your room, in this wing, hoặc in this hospital?"
"The fourth one."
"Attempted suicide."
"That's not a reason--"
"Fourteen times."
"Well. bạn must really tình yêu life don't you?"
"Oh yeah."
"So bạn feel like bạn don't deserve to live, hoặc bạn hate how your life played out, so bạn try to off yourself. Very smart."
"What's your reason for gettin' in here then? bạn look like a middle-aged druggie."
"Technically that's true, but I--I've been hallucinating, I can't tell what's real and what's not. And I'm addicted to vicodin, but my fellow colleagues Slash Những người bạn believe my hallucinations have another underlying cause."
"Nice."
"Yeah."
"Does this girl bạn been talkin' bout' have to do with any of this?"
"She's the colleague Slash friend."
"That's interestin'."
"Sure."
"And does she know bạn talk about her like, well like bạn did, a few phút ago?"
"Why does my problem fit your need to know what's going on in everybody's life?"
"Why do bạn like to isolate yourself, from everyone round' you?"
"You barely know me. bạn can't say stuff like that yet."
"Oh I know ya. I've seen bạn walkin' round' here. How bạn sit lone' in corners. I've also seen bạn limping. S'that what bạn takin' the vicodin?"
"I had an infarction in my leg."
"Oh damn."
"Surprised bạn knew what that is."
"Oh yeah. I went to medical school for a couple years, then I dropped."
"Not the smartest thing to do."

Right then and there, one of the nurses came in, checking to see if they were awake.

"Breakfast guys. Then your meds, bạn know the deal."

She closed the door fairly quickly, most likely to attend to another patient.

"Never caught bạn name bởi the way."
"House. Gregory House. Like the noun."
"Nathan. Jillian Nathan."
"Hope bạn don't mind, but I refer to my peers bởi their last name."
"S'ok. I don't mind."
"Didn't think bạn would."

They finally got out of their beds, made them as they usually would, and left their room to the mess hall where breakfast would be served. They walked down the empty corridor bởi themselves, conversing as their voices echoed off the walls.

"You seem like a good guy."
"Do I have to say the same?"
"No. Cause I'm trying to make a point."
"Ah."
"I don't get why you're here. I mean, I get your problem, but, still."
"See, when you're a doctor, it's not good to not be able to tell the real from the not."
"Right. Well, seems to be you've got a deep prob going on in you."
"That's what they all say."

They stopped talking for about a một phút in time before she broke the silence before they pushed the doors open into the mess hall.

"So, are bạn gonna tell me thêm bout' bạn hoặc what?"