CHAPTER TWO: The Confrontation

I stood there before House, unmoving and unsure of what to say. I shoved my hands in the pockets of my leather jacket and stared at the floor. It was like I was in the Twilight Zone. I mean, there had been many awkward silences in my life, of course, but none with Gregory House. He always had something to say. So it was just that much more uncomfortable to stand there in utter quietude.

A few minutes that felt like hours passed, and I couldn't take another moment of deafening silence. So I said the first thing that came to mind. "H-how have you been?" Stupid.

"Well, I've been good. After I retired, I really found myself, you know? I wrote a novel, I immersed myself in the wonderful world of music, oh, and somewhere along the way, I even got cancer! So, yeah, I've been great," House replied without missing a beat.

"Oh," I replied, not knowing how to respond.

"Why did you come to see me, Chase?"

I shifted uncomfortably. "I…I heard about your condition and I wanted to see you one last time and thank you."

"Well, you've seen me. Now leave."

I was deeply saddened and surprised. I don't know why I'd be surprised. I mean, come on, it's House we're talking about. I should've figured he wouldn't want to get all sappy and emotional. But I was surprised, anyway. "Leave? Just like that?"
"Yeah. Go. I've already missed about ten minutes of this episode because of you," House remarked. I looked at him with shock. "What are you so shocked about? Did you really expect me to give you a big hug when I saw you?"

"No, but I just thought…I just thought that maybe, just maybe, you'd be happy to see me. We worked together for years! You taught me so much, and our friendship meant a lot to me. But I guess it didn't mean much to you," I retorted, angry and overcome with sad realization. "I don't know why I ever thought differently. I don't know why I even bothered."

I waited for a reply, but House just sat there, staring at me. His face was emotionless, but his eyes were never vacant. They said something, but I wasn't sure what. But I realized that whatever House was thinking, he was not going to say, so I just shook my head and angrily paced out the door.

I walked past the woman. "Thank you for letting me in, Miss."
"Well, aren't you going to stay? You just got here," she asked.

"House doesn't want to see me. But thanks, anyway."

She shook her head, understandingly. "Mr. House doesn't want to see anybody anymore. Whenever there are visitors, he just sends them back out again after five minutes. Don't take it too hard, that's just the way he is."

I sighed. "I know. I worked with him for several years. I know all his mind tricks and sharp-tongued remarks, but somehow I just thought he'd be different. It was a foolish notion, I know. It's my fault I'm angry. House always said, 'Expect nothing, and you'll never be disappointed.' I should've listened to him."

I opened the door and left. I got in my car, but I couldn't bring myself to leave. 'You thanked him. You did what you had to,' I told myself. But again, my words seemed lost on me.

Suddenly, a tall figure came out of the house. I looked to my right and saw House, limping over to my car. I unrolled the window.

House said, quietly and solemnly, "Come back next Tuesday. We can talk then."

Before I could reply, he limped back into his house, leaving me with nothing more. 'Come back next Tuesday? He actually wanted me to come back?' I couldn't fathom it. Maybe he was different. Or maybe he did treasure our friendship the way I did. All I knew was that I had to come back and find out.