Chase prays, alone, kneels on the cold tiles of the bathroom and speaks into the silence, prays for guidance and safety and prays that God will heal this doctor who can't die yet, can't die because Chase will be lost without him. Chase has never had a father, not really.

Cameron leans against the wall and cries, sobs silently. She tastes salt and fear in the teardrops that cling to her lips and cheeks and remembers last time. She doesn't think she could handle another funeral.

Foreman quietly sorts out the paperwork and talks to the nurses and then goes home and takes a sleeping pill. He's done what's needed and all he can do now is wait.

House sleeps in a darkened hospital room, the glowing instruments by his bed casting a dim light across his face. Cuddy is asleep too, curled by his bed with one of his hands in hers. Wilson rests one hand on her shoulder and just stands there, watching the heart monitor. Willing it to keep going.