Parking the car, Chase got out and walked up the steps, taking out his house keys. He tried unlocking the door, and ended up locking himself out. He stood there for a few seconds, distinctly remembering locking the door earlier that day.

He unlocked the door again and let himself in, throwing his keys into the bowl by the door. Was he losing his mind? Was House's craziness rubbing off on him?

No, he'd definitely locked the door. He could visualize it. Chase turned and latched onto the shelf containing the bowl, and pulled it in front of the door. As he stood there, looking over his possessions; he heard his bedroom window open.

He grabbed his umbrella from the stand and raced into his bedroom, but it was vacant; the curtains blew in the breeze. The sensor light was on. Chase stood there, brandishing his umbrella and trying to calm his heart down long after the light had turned off.

Finally, he convinced himself to move. He shut the window and noticed in the reflection that his stereo was missing. He moved throughout the house, checking every window and every door leading outside as he searched for missing things; determining that his laptop had been taken, his drawers had been ransacked, and his TV and all his pictures had been smashed. The desk lamp used to break the glass was on the floor.

Chase called 911, but found himself unable to provide the facts. So he told the First Responder, "Never mind."

Needing to hear a familiar voice, he called Cameron. When she didn't answer, he called Adams.

"Hey, Chase, what's up?"

"I just got robbed."

Adams was quiet for a moment, but he could hear her stammering. "Are you okay?"

"Physically, yes, I scared him off when I came in; but he stole from me, he broke my stuff, I'm freaking out here. I need you to talk to me."

"Okay. Okay, let's talk. Let's go out."

"Thank you," he said desperately. "I'll come to you, I need...I have to...I can't stay here."

"I'll be ready."

Chase disconnected and left again, quickly. He got in the car and sped towards her place, thinking that the sleep lab would be a good place to crash.

Chase sighed into his knuckles, staring at the screen. He was hoping going to the movies would take his mind off what had happened; but all he could think about was his shattered TV.

"I can't believe it," he muttered. "Who the hell robs a doctor?"

"An angry patient," Adams volunteered. "An angry boss."

Chase continued staring at a movie he was paying no attention to, as he thought about the boss he had resolutely left behind.

"Someone who doesn't know or care what you do," Adams continued.

"This isn't helping me." Chase stood up and began walking to the exit, and Adams scrambled out of her seat to catch up.

"What will? What can I do?"

"You can do whatever you feel like. I'm going to the hospital."

"You think work will help?"

"I'm not going there to work. I'm going to eat, sleep and freshen up so that I can work tomorrow."

Adams was quiet as she escorted him to the doors; finally saying, "I'm glad you're okay."

Chase opened his mouth to respond, then gave her a curt nod and stepped out into the night.