Waiting for Kayla to exit the cabin, Chase and Cameron hung out in the front yard. Despite all the years they had known each other, and everything they had gone through; things were a little awkward between them, as he struggled to comprehend the phone call and she obviously distanced herself; with body language that suggested she was disturbed by his presence. Wanting to break the ice, Chase cleared his throat and looked sheepishly at her. "So. Uh, when are you supposed to be in court?"

"What does it matter to you?" she asked falteringly.

"Well, it matters. We're friends...Good friends, if you ask me."

"Wasn't going to," she muttered, and averted her eyes again. She focused on the road far ahead, darkened by the trees on both sides. "We should call Cuddy. Let her know he's alright."

"Cameron. I'd like to know. I can—I can be your witness."

"Will you please just call Cuddy?"

Chase relented with a sigh, dug out his phone and speed-dialed her.

"What's happening? Is everything alright?" was the greeting she frantically extended.

"Yeah...I think. But he told us to leave."

"So don't listen to him. He clearly can't be alone right now."

"Please, Cuddy; he's a grown man."

"A grown man with a gun, and immedicable depression."

"He gave us the gun."

"You're seriously satisfied by that? There are other ways to end his life!" she insisted.

"Right. And my being here will fix his immedicable depression. What am I supposed to do?" he demanded, and sighed when his only response was a scoff. "Well, short of you coming down here—"

"I am not coming to Canada—"

"If it saves his life?"

Cuddy scoffed again. "I have a job. I have a daughter, I've got—"

"You've got a bag of excuses, just like him," Chase interrupted, and looked at his surprised colleague and ex-wife as he continued speaking to the phone. "I would think you would be more prepared to deal with a matter of life and death. It's not my area! Certainly not the area of an immunologist. Or a teacher, but you... You should have been here from the start. It's even what he wants."

"What?"

Instead of replying, Chase hung up. He raised his eyebrows at Cameron as he pocketed his phone. "She wants me to keep 'im company."

"Go ahead."

He raised his hands in a quick defeated motion. "What the hell is your problem? I haven't done anything!" he exclaimed, and watched her huff a sigh of exasperation. "Are you menstruating?" he asked, and she looked at him in wide-eyed indignation. "I'm a doctor. I know what it entails and I'm not being offensive."

"Yes. You are."

"Right, well, I'm not trying to be. You know that." He spread out his hands, palms up. "House fakes his death. He whacks you with his cane. He causes the destruction of your marriage and for some reason, you're mad at me. I recognize misdirected anger, but that doesn't mean I understand it."

She raised her head, eyes flashing as she adjusted her shirt. "I am not angry."

"Who are you trying to fool?"

Cameron sighed, briefly averting her eyes. She looked back at him as she answered, "Do you really think you can babysit him for two weeks?" she asked, and tilted her head. "What about your life?"

"What about my life?"

"I heard what Cuddy said. You're not exactly unemployed, Robert... And you're dispensable."

"Thank you," he said falteringly.

"You're right. You can't fix House. He doesn't need you. And Foreman doesn't need you. But you need Foreman." The tone of her voice made him nervous. "So why stay? Why offer your support...when the only person who needs other people, is you?"

"I thought you said you weren't angry."

She squinted a little, turning her head just slightly as she maintained eye contact. "Do you think the hospital would fall apart without a womanizing surgeon?"

Chase narrowed his eyes. "Tread lightly, Cameron. You're running out of witnesses."

She finally broke her stare of death.

"Is that why you're angry?"

"I told you, I'm not angry!" she insisted; the tone of her voice implying otherwise. She turned away to circle the vehicle and isolate herself inside, only to see House and Kayla standing in the lawn as well. Kayla held the cat in her arms and House held the box of food in his left hand. Seeing them there, Cameron and Chase paused in their cold conversation; looking awkwardly at them.

House limped closer to Chase. "She's wrong, you know. Of course I need you."

Chase frowned. "Really?"

"Yeah! I need you to carry this." He handed him the bag. "I try to minimize the cramping as much as possible," he said, as he limped towards the car. "Which reminds me, I need to get more Vicodin. We're stopping at a pharmacy and then dinner's on me."

"Oh, God," Chase said. "You did. You mugged someone!"

House smiled at him over the roof of the car, then opened the passenger door and ducked inside.

Cameron looked at Kayla and began taking the cat from her arms. "Wait, I thought you were saying goodbye; he asked us to go."

"Sorry, change of plans." Kayla shrugged apologetically, her face still serious. "I just didn't want him to be alone."

She went to the car, leaving Chase and Cameron to exchange a flustered glance. He put a gentle, inquisitive hand on her shoulder; withdrawing just as quickly. "Um, sorry, how did you...how did you convince him? That's a first," he grumbled.

Kayla gave him the shadow of a smile. "I have my ways."

"Maybe you should teach grownups," Chase muttered, as the foursome entered the truck. Despite himself, House was smiling as he buckled himself up. Sitting in the back right seat, Cameron observed his smile in the rearview mirror, and buckled herself feeling a small rush of hope. Between her and Chase, the cat lay down and started licking itself.

Chase leaned forward, tapping House on the arm. "Do you even have plans? You can't survive two weeks without spending."

"You assume he wants to survive," Cameron muttered.

House strained to keep looking over his shoulder. "Relax. When we get to the pharmacy, I'm going to take everyone hostage, rob every last one of them, and live off the produce section."

Chase leaned back, still meeting his eyes. "I'm going to assume you're joking," he muttered, as his phone began to ring. He extracted and answered it. "Hello?"

"What's happening?" Cuddy demanded.

"We're in the car."

"Oh, God," she sighed. "You're useless, you know."

"What—no, Cuddy, we're all in the car."

"Oh. Sorry."

"We're going to a restaurant; he wants to see what the civilized world looks like. Don't know what we'll do next. He's got a wicked stash of drugs here, might try to loosen ourselves up a touch."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Cuddy asked, as House swiveled in his seat.

"Hemp. Heroin. LSD. Methamphetamines. I'm surprised he's wound up as tight as he is. 'Course, he did get loose enough to call ya; must really be in love!"

"Put him on the phone."

"It's...my phone."

"Put him on the Goddamn phone, Robert Chase!"

"Okay. Hang on. He's on." Chase handed House the phone, smiling into his blazing eyes.

House raised the phone to his ear. "Don't listen to him, he's an idiot. No drugs, no lingering feelings."

"That's not what you said last night."

House sighed, rubbing his forehead. "There was definitely alcohol. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to break his phone, so we're...we're gonna get disconnected."

"House," her tone of voice stopped him. "Do you need me to come over?"

His hand paused on his forehead and he was quiet for a long time, eventually putting his hand down as he wrestled with his response. "No," he finally said. "Don't come over. It's just Canada...and it's just me. Not worth it."

"You're worth it."

"I know, you're the Dean of Medicine. But it's...just your obligation talking. If you were in any other line of work, you'd be telling me to go to hell."

He had been talking out of the ass; but her silence made him think he was actually onto something. He hung up and threw the phone back to Chase. Without further threats of violence, he turned his attention out the window and regressed into a state of silence. Seeing the change in him, Cameron scowled at Chase in disapproval.

"You had to push him," she muttered.

"It's not my fault he's messed up! Not my fault you are, either," he added, putting away his phone. Kayla drove in awkward silence; with House and Cameron both staring quietly out of the window.

All of the tables had booth seating. They picked a table in closer proximity to the center of the room than the wall. Cameron sat across from House and beside Kayla.

"I knew you were bluffing," Chase was saying, as he scooted into the seat.

"I never bluff. I just changed my mind." House shrugged. "Too many people."

"Seriously," Cameron cut in. "What are you planning? A dine and dash?"

"You caught me," he said, pointing at her. Then he shrugged, looking at Chase. "I was going to surprise you."

Chase snorted. "Come on."

House surveyed the room. "Come on what? It's kind of a fancy place."

Cameron rolled her eyes and leaned forward, staring into his pupils. Then she leaned back. "I swear you're mixing your meds. You've been on the road for a year... You don't even have a doctor right now, do you?"

"I've got me."

"House," she said simply. She rested her arms on the table. "You've always been philosophical. I need to know how...full your cup is."

"I assume you're not talking about my fun bags. 'Cause...they're only about as full as yours."

Cameron rolled her eyes and caught Chase's eyes. He raised his brows at her. "And you think I'm insulting?" he asked.

Cameron stared back at him. "Cuddy doesn't want us to leave you. So be honest."

His eyes were like daggers of ice in the bright restaurant lighting. "Don't get your curls in a twist. My cup is half full, I promise."

"Really?"

He nodded and waited for her to turn away to hang her coat on the back of her chair, then nudged Chase and mouthed, "Of dry glass."

Chase smiled to conceal his annoyance, averting his eyes.

"Alright, well," Cameron turned back in her seat. "I'm glad to hear it..." She paused, her eyes going around the table at Chase and Kayla's quiet smiles.

House looked down as his phone suddenly went off, playing a vulgar song. Seeing all three of his companions examining the beautiful restaurant in embarrassment, he looked at Cameron and spoke loudly. "My God, woman, are you just going to let it ring?"

She covered her eyes with both hands.

House turned to the other patrons. "I am so sorry. She's got zero class. It's awful!"

Chase dug into House's pocket and took the call, causing all of the patrons to clue in. "This is Chase, I'll put House on."

He held out the phone without looking away from Cameron.

"Thank you," she said, as House finally took the phone.

"Make it fast. He's going to ravage me."

"For God's sake!" Chase exclaimed.

"House, be serious," Foreman said coldly. "Look. Whatever you're doing, don't."

"But I've been alone so long!"

"Stop. Okay? Now I assume Chase or Cameron told you about what you said to Cuddy. You need to think about her. Hell, this is traumatizing for all of us; and if you're seriously considering suicide, there's all kinds of hotlines and—"

House hung up, pocketing his phone. He looked at Chase, who was now covering his eyes. "He'll break the news to Cuddy. Relax, he'll be gentle."

Chase dropped his hands and looked at him for a moment, then pushed back his chair and left the table. House slid in Chase's chair, meeting the girls' eyes. "We'll make up later. I'll buy him some chocolates." He put the phone in his pocket and picked up his menu.

"Why on earth did you do that?" Cameron finally demanded.

"Had to get even."

"Couldn't you have just forgiven him?"

House was meeting her eyes before he snapped his menu down to reveal her face. He hesitated for a moment, then gave an insincere smile. "How's the husband?"

"Well, I wouldn't know. Since you wrecked my marriage."

House was still smiling coolly as he leaned forward, tossing the menu onto the table. "You want to know the difference between you and me?"

Cameron stared into his eyes, raised her eyebrows, and spoke in a dangerously low voice. "If Adams, Park, or Taub thought for one minute that I was dead, they would have given enough of a damn to call."

House's smirk faded. Cameron got up and grabbed her coat, and he watched her every move; unable to formulate a response. She left the restaurant, tailing Chase outside. She found him leaning on the wall, staring across the street. He wasn't too distracted to notice her; and he turned his head, watching her approach. He spoke before she could. "I don't know why I'm disappointed. I knew he was the same old bastard he was last year. I told you—he told you—people don't change."

"House is..."

"House is a jerk," he filled in, when words failed her. "And you know what, I'm tired of it. Everything you hate about me, you love about him. I'm tired of that, too. Your system is broken." He turned his eyes back to the road, spotting a taxi down the road.

"What are you saying?"

"Look, if the man wants to kill himself, let 'im. Less of a burden on the rest of us." Chase detached from the wall, walking to the edge of the sidewalk. "Even if you could cure his depression, he's not gonna let you."

The taxi stopped in front of him and he opened the door, turning back long enough to say, "Neither of you can be miserable forever. I'd prefer it if you live."

Then he ducked inside the taxi and pulled the door shut.

Cameron stood alone, watching the cab drive away. Turning, she reentered the restaurant, went back to their table and sat, crossing her arms and staring at House. He returned her stare—until she kicked him in the leg. "Ow!" he said, bending over. "Why'd you do that?"

"You hit my leg; I couldn't forgive you."

"It's just wrong to kick a cripple."

"But if the person is healthy, it's okay, right?" she said, and slid a menu closer to herself. "If everybody in the world was like you, we'd have killed ourselves off in the 19th century with advanced technology."

House considered it, then gave a subtle nod and remained quiet as she picked up her menu.