Wilson tried calling House's cell phone again and left another message. He had called four times and left twenty minutes in between each call to give him time to get back to him. Whether he was ignoring his call or, out doing something stupid was hard to determine and the fact alone that he had to think those two things as an option for why House wasn't calling him back made him uneasy.

He stared at his phone waiting for it to ring. After five minutes since his last attempt, he tried again.

House sat on the stool, with his cell phone sitting next to his Scotch neat, knowing it was a matter of time before Wilson's name appeared as an incoming call. Just as expected, it did. "Wilson, you predictable bastard," he mumbled to himself. He lifted the glass and drank the rest. "Another one!" he shouted over to the bartender that was talking to the women on the opposite end of the bar from him.

The bartender looked away from the women and over at House. "That's your fifth one. Are you sure you want another?" he asked as he made his way closer to him and grabbed the glass off the bar.

"I'm sure," House answered in a slight mumble.

The bartender sighed as he grabbed the bottle from behind and started pouring. "Alright, man. But this is your last one." He slid the glass over to House. "Give me your keys," he said reaching out his hand. "I'm deciding when you go home tonight."

House scowled at him as he reached into his jacket pocket and slammed them down. "Here." The bartender took them and placed them somewhere under the bar and walked away from House, back to where he was before. House looked down at his phone again when he saw Wilson's name come back.

Wilson kept selecting House's name and called as much as he was able to while driving over to House's apartment to check on him. He gave up leaving messages for the last three times because he was just sounding more and more angry in each one and knew that wasn't the way to get House to call him back. He reached his place and sighed heavily when he saw no trace of House's car and he could tell from where he was that the lights were off. "Dammit, House," Wilson said out loud in frustration, partly towards House, but also, towards himself. If he only went to him when he called earlier. Or talked to him then, he would have a better idea of where he went off to. But, Wilson had a pretty good idea without having done that. He put his car back in drive, while thinking of different bars in the area.

Cuddy was sitting silently at the kitchen table while eating dinner. "Mommy, are you okay?" Rachel asked from the opposite end of the table.

"Yeah, Sweetie, I'm fine," Cuddy answered with a smile to not worry her, and hoped it didn't look as fake as it felt.

"Is House coming over later?" Rachel questioned right before shoveling a fork full of food into her mouth and kept an eye on Cuddy, waiting for a response.

"No, not tonight," she said as casually as she could.

"Tomorrow?"

"Maybe," Cuddy lied, not wanting to tell her she didn't know if he would come over again. She didn't want to put Rachel through that again. "Why do you ask, Honey?"

"I drew a picture of him today at school that I wanted to show him!" she exclaimed with excitement. "But, I can show him tomorrow," she told her with a smile. Cuddy bit the bottom of her lip to stop the wave of emotion that took over but it was too late. She felt a tear form and Rachel noticed it. "Mommy, are you sure you're okay?"

Cuddy stood up and grabbed her plate. "I'm fine. Finish eating, Rachel." She took her plate and tossed what wasn't eaten in the garbage and left the plate in the sink and went into her bedroom as the tear ran down her cheek...