Chase tries not to blame himself.
Chase blames himself.
As he leaves the circle at his late patient's last bedside, he absently tightens the silk tourniquet at his neck, tries to detach his mind from his bleeding heart. Weak. Arriving, late, back at the hospital, Chase doesn't listen to House's reprimand; doesn't change the black tie, his darker countenance. House snorts.
"Get your act together, sunshine," reads the notice on his locker, later; "Or you'll soon have a whole lot more to cry about."
House has stuck a kiss on the end, for comic effect.
Chase somehow refrains from laughing.