The walls screamed with evidence. Black ashes stung the normally white washed walls. He should have seen the signs. He should have kept a better view on him. How could he let his best friend slip right through his fingers like running water once more? He sat on the cold sidewalk pavement, conscious but not aware. His mind struggled to remove the memory of a black silhouette right at the door and then a flaming pillar falling on top, crushing any chance of survival. Someone, probably a firefighter, draped a blanket around his shoulders. His fingers curled around the damp pavement as he stared at the building. Most of the ducklings and his 'friends' came over to watch House's final stand. Some of them conversed, and some even cried. He didn't know the man standing next to him; he didn't know the woman standing on the other side of him. It was as if the smoke from the burning building infiltrated his mind and turned his thoughts into another language he couldn't comprehend. Sometimes he would open his mouth but nothing came out. He wouldn't cry. He clutched the blanket around his shoulders tighter now. He saw someone out of his peripheral vision sit down next to him. The young man's blonde hair identified him as Chase.
"Wilson."
For the first time in an hour Wilson turned his head away from the ravaged building. Chases' blue eyes reminded him of House's. The realization that he would never see House's blue irises brought back that feeling of nausea and he coughed weakly. The shadows of dawn played against Chase's face making him seem younger than he was.
"This isn't your fault."
Wilson's lips quirked upward. He knew it wasn't his fault, how could House's accident been Wilson's fault. After all, it was Wilson who was dying right? Why should Wilson have had to seen House's plan when Wilson had problems of his own? He pulled the blanket tighter to his chest. He didn't blame himself, House was only his best friend. As his best friend House should have been there for Wilson after the scan revealed that the chemo did nothing. House should have came by Wilson's house and they could have cooked dinner and watched tv and enjoyed beers like they used to. House should have found someone else to truly love because Wilson wouldn't be there when he got out of jail. House should have…there were too many things House should have done. Wilson fingers clawed at the blanket, drawing the sides together.
"I know."
Wilson's voice quavered. He couldn't look into Chase's blue eyes or see his nametag from Princeton Plainsboro-they only reminded him more of House