"How, um.." Wilson lifted his gaze from the files sprawled in front of him when he heard a familiar voice coming from his office's doorframe. There stood Dr. Robert Chase, a very distressed Robert Chase with the appearance of a chronic insomniac and the grieving eyes of a hopeless lover.
"How far.. would you be willing to go for House's sake?" Hesitantly he leaned against the wall, avoiding the empathizing look his superior was giving. "I mean," he continued, "I am aware of everything you've done for him, how much you are doing, but.. uh..." He couldn't finish his sentence for he was at loss for words, but luckily he didn't need to. It was clear what the blonde was referring to; Wilson soon stood up, walking closer,
"Chase. I can only imagine how much this kills you, but you and I both know neither of us can really do anything right now for him. The disease is still unknown and highly contagious, so just going downstairs to see him puts you at risk. There's nothing to be done except looking for a solid diagnosis and a treatment for-"
"I know!" the younger doctor exclaimed, full of frustration and sorrow. "No- no matter how I try to help, I'm just.. I'm useless!" He stammered, his accent breaking through his voice. "I'm just left here watching him die... an' I can't even be there for hhim..."
His words drowned in the tears spilling from his eyes, now squeezed shut. Honestly, Wilson felt like crying as well. It was obvious neither of them had ever felt this helpless. The only thing the brunette could think of was to pull Chase in for a tight embrace whilst the other started sobbing quietly.
