CHAPTER ELEVEN

House walked into the conference room beside his office and suddenly he felt completely drained emotionally. He wanted coffee and needed it badly. He needed to clear his head. Aside from the attack from Chase he was worried about Cameron. It was becoming quite clear that the concussion did cause some sort of damage to her mentally, but then again, after what Foreman had been through, he'd returned to himself after a time. Cameron would come back. She had to, had to.

He picked up his favorite coffee cup, the red one, and looked at it for a second. It was the cup Cameron bought him a few years earlier for Christmas. And it was his favorite, although never even thanked her. He berated himself for that, and many other things he had been thoughtless about with her the past three years she'd been working with him.

Inside, the anger abruptly built up within him. He was pissed at her for running out of the restaurant; angry at his dad that he just had to have a heart attack while all this was going on; disgusted at the server in the cafeteria downstairs that put cream in his coffee when he didn't ask for it. He was livid.

He was just plain livid at the world. But that was alright with him. He always had been. Why change things now?

The next thing he knew a loud crash reverberated throughout the room and he turned to look at the window looking out into the hallway. The glass was shattered and in shards all over the carpet. And he felt nothing.

"What the hell did you do?!" Wilson exclaimed as he walked into the room, startled at the mess.

"We needed a bigger door," House snickered.

Wilson could only put his hands on his hips and stare at House. He had always been insensitive, thoughtless, rude and a million other non-likeable words. But a violent temper was not one of House's faults.

House sighed deeply and sat down in the chair, put his face in his hands and let out his breath slowly.

"House," Wilson said as he, too, took a seat across from him, "you need to go home and get some sleep."

"And what makes you think you know what I need?"

"Well, for one, you sure didn't need to break that glass. Isn't that the second you broke in three days?"

House looked up at Wilson but cupped his chin in the palms of his hands. "Did I do the wrong thing?" House asked weakly.

"Uh, yeah. Cuddy's going to make you pay for that or give you more clinic hours."

"That's not what I meant."

Wilson frowned as he tried to think of what House was talking about. "Oh, I forgot. Your mom called me."

House's head shot up and threw his hands in the air. "Oh, great. It just keeps getting better and better," House said sarcastically.

"Oh, shut up! She hasn't heard from you in three days. You haven't even called her about your dad."

"That's really none of your business," he snapped.

"None of my…none of my business?" Wilson burst out. "Look, I know you are going through a lot right now and I wish there was something I could do. But there isn't. Don't attack me because you have pent up frustration."

"I need to get out of here."

"Good, you finally listened to me."

"No, I mean away from here."

"You're just going to up and leave? Cuddy told me about Cameron and she's still critical. You're going to escape, escape like you always do. That's great. I'm not surprised. Just promise me this, House," Wilson said as he stood up and pushed the chair in, "If I'm lying on my death bed, don't bother hanging around. If you did, I'd know the world is coming to an end."

Wilson walked out, leaving House to stare at his backside dumfounded. This was the first time anything Wilson had said to him really cut with a knife. Honestly, there had been other times when it was close, but this was it.

He needed a drink and needed it badly. He packed up his belongings, walked out of his office and headed home. He had a lot of thinking to do.

Should he stay in Jersey to be with Cameron when she wakes up?

Should he go to Michigan to see his dad? Not so much his dad, but to be there to support his mother.

When life gives you lemons, put in some whiskey and drink 'til you forget you had lemons in the first place.