a/n: Okay, I lied. This part was supposed to be the first half of the final chapter, but I realized it just needed to be a chapter of its own. So, this fic will be eight chapters. I'm sure not many of you are complaining about that!

This chapter is a big risk for me, but I needed to have the ultimate Chase/House conversation and this was the result. All comments about whether or not this was written in character will be most welcome. The objective here was to stretch the dynamic slightly further without going overboard. Happy reading !

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The sharp knock on his door jerked Chase out of his somber rumination. He was sure that if he ignored it long enough, the visitor would go away. After all, he never got visitors, so who could possibly have an urgent need to see him right now? He guessed it was the neighbor again delivering mail that ended up in her box by mistake. She could slip it under the door this time.

"Chase! Open this door or I'm calling the police and reporting you've got child porn!"

"House?" Chase got up and moved closer to the door, but didn't open it. "Go away."

"Open the door."

Chase thought about calling House's bluff, but he did so while unhooking the chain and turning the deadbolt. When am I ever going to be able to tell this man no? Chase gave a steely gaze when the door flew open to one the person that he didn't want to see at this time.

"Hi," House said in a dull tone, as if he was required to give the customary greeting. He didn't even bother to wait for the invitation and started walking in, with Chase instinctively clearing some space.

Chase closed the door and sat back down where he was previously on the couch. House took a few seconds to look around the room, noticing the simple décor.

"You don't remember being here before," Chase said, watching House's eyes moving back and forth.

"Nope, nothing looks familiar."

Chase slumped into the couch, shoulders hung low in defeat. "Look House, I'm tired, as I'm sure you are too. Can't this wait?"

"Nope." House took a seat in the chair next to the couch.

Chase let out a deep sigh, not at all in the mood for any conversation, let alone whatever House was planning. From his experience, he wasn't exactly there to share hugs and a pint of Haagen-Daas. "Couldn't you have sent Cameron instead? At least she would smother me with sympathy."

"I'm sure that's not all she'd smother you with."

Chase got up. "Jokes aren't going to work right now," he said with tired voice while he left the room. House didn't even allow a fleeting thought over where Chase was going. Eventually he would be back. He can't avoid his own living room forever.

Chase was back in about two minutes, two long neck beer bottles in his hand. He placed one on the coffee table in front of House, and sank down onto the couch holding his, carefully examining it, but not taking a drink.

House carefully watched Chase strum his fingers all over the bottle while he took a healthy gulp of his own beer. "You do know that beers are for drinking, right? I know I've always called you stupid, but I never thought you were an idiot."

Chase placed the beer bottle on the table next to him, and went back to his silent brooding.

House nervously looked around, cursing to himself over why he was really there. Visits like this were never easy for him, but it wasn't like he was concerned over whether Chase really wanted him there. It was because just enough remorse poked inside him to where he and Chase finally needed to talk. "I wouldn't worry about what happened on the stand. Your testimony really did some good. Howard seems optimistic that the DA doesn't have enough to go to trial."

Chase's eyes fell downward, and then back up, fixed on the golden hue coming from his front window. He was keeping his mind intentionally blank, knowing from experience that was the only way he could gain control. Still, he did let himself wonder, did the yellow faintly filtering through his window come from the fading sunlight or the street lamp? He had lost all awareness of time.

House was mesmerized by Chase's far out gaze. He was familiar with his classic withdrawal tactics, but this one seemed particularly vacant. He'd only seen Chase like this once before, when that baby died. What was that kid's name? There was only one way of snapping him out of it. It wouldn't be well received, no matter what he tried, but Chase should be used to it by now. "Are you doing all this for me because you couldn't save your mother?"

Chase slumped further into the couch, so much so he felt as if he had merged with it. "House, I don't want to discuss this."

"I'm not leaving until you answer the question."

"You won't stay long. I don't have that much beer."

House settled backward, trying to show he was willing to wait it out. He took another long gulp on his beer. Within a minute he was surprised to find he finished it. He put the empty bottle down, and stretched out his hand in Chase's direction. Chase sighed, grabbed the beer next to him and handed it to House.

House gripped onto the drink, smirking over how Chase's blind loyalty was deeply ingrained even when he was emotionally vacant. That was so pathetic. He had to accept though, whether he found it endearing or not, that such blind loyalty was exactly what kept him safe from his own destruction. First Cuddy and Wilson, now Chase. Their actions defied all logic. Then again, so did his.

"I never wanted for any of this to happen."

Chase's head turned toward House bearing an incredulous expression. "What exactly did you think would happen? That's the problem, you never intend to do anything. You just do what you want, and those around you are forced to react. I can't be a part of this anymore."

"I didn't ask you to cover for me."

"No you didn't, because you don't ever have to ask. You knew exactly what I would do. I'm sure you and Wilson even had a nice side bet going on it. 'Chase will cover my ass, and lie to the cops to do it. Heck he'll even get skewered on the stand and have his deeply private family scandals aired for all to know just so I can continue to be a stubborn ass. He just loves me too much.'"

A glint emerged from House's blue eyes, for that was the spark he was looking for. Now they can get started. "That's when Wilson says, 'No, Chase will do all that because he wants to save his job.'"

Chase didn't crack a smile. "I'd say that Chase guy is certifiable."

House gave a tiny smile and glanced at the window that was grabbing Chase's attention. The way the light scattered through the chintzy curtains was visually catching. He helped himself to more beer, and went back to the prodding.

"You never answered my initial question."

"I have no answer."

"How about a yes or no?"

"You're starting to sound like that vicious DA. Yes or no means you don't get a truthful answer."

"You just don't want to answer the question."

Chase threw his hands up in the air in outrage. "No, I don't! What does it matter what my motives are? I'm helping you. At least I thought I was. Now I realize the truth. I've been freaking delusional."

House's face fell toward his feet with a small amount of guilt. He bounced the cane with his right hand in attempt to hide his discomfort. "You're helping. As a matter of fact, you've exceeded my expectations."

House felt his stomach turn as Chase's confused glare pierced right through him. Too late for going back, he was going to have to explain that comment now.

"Oh, don't get so weepy. You and I both know that I'll never have a perfect situation, and I won't always do what's good for me. The important thing here is that you tried to do something that Cuddy and Wilson never attempted. You saw something about me that they never did, or never wanted to."

"How else did you think I would act?" Chase asked with just the right amount of hurt hanging in his words. "What were your expectations? Did you just pick me as your doctor because you thought I would do whatever you wanted? Didn't any part of you think I would actually give sound medical advice?"

"I don't answer your question unless you answer mine first," House replied firmly.

Chase went back to his window gazing, then leaned forward with his head falling into his hands. His head emerged up after a long pause and a deep breath. "This never had anything to do with my mother."

That wasn't enough for House. "Why was that question so hard to answer?"

"Because it's none of your business."

House's glance turned curious. "Why do you think I picked you?"

Chase didn't move, the only visible sign of motion being the clenching of his jaw. "I withdraw my question. You know exactly why you chose me for this task and how I'd respond with my duties. That's why I never needed an answer from you before. I certainly don't care what it is."

House took in a deep sigh, raising his hand to his forehead. He should have known a conversation like this with Chase would result in talking in circles. Neither of them were very good at giving direct answers. "Why put yourself through all this? You've always been a brilliant strategist with self-preservation. Why risk it all, your career, your reputation, your sacred privacy, for someone that will give you nothing but grief in return?"

"Words are so much more exciting to you unspoken. That way you can see all, know all, and be convinced you're always right. Anything I say won't change how you'll interpret my pathetic existence."

House shook his head, deciding to try a different approach. Chase had to be capable of a straight answer. "Chase," he said with a much calmer tone, "the second I get first glance of Cameron or Foreman, I know exactly what they want, what they're up to and how they think they're going to trick me. Despite what you might think, you have always been the puzzle that I could never solve. There are so many deep layers in there that each time I get through one, there's another covering up your true motives and who you really are. I have this notion that you've built up so many walls, even you don't know what's behind them. So, when I ask you, why are you going out of your way to help me, why do you think I chose you, it's because I honestly don't know. Maybe the question should be, do you really know?"

Chase got up, the back of his mind processing all that had been said while the rest of him went to the window and pulled back the curtains. The sunlight was near gone, so the mystery of the lights did come from the streetlamps.

"She died in the hospital. She was withered, frail, a fragment of whatever beauty she once was. I was there by her side, the dutiful son, but in reality it sickened me to look at her. I was disgusted by her weakness, which tore me apart because I shouldn't have felt that way. I was supposed to love her unconditionally. I have never once felt that way about your situation. The two don't even compare. I did what I did because of what you taught me. Do everything you can for the patient, no matter what the cost. That's why I helped you, and that's why you chose me."

House cracked a smile while reaching for his beer. No, that was definitely not the answer he would have guessed, and he got it right. He would have to count that as another layer exposed. "Okay." He finished the beer and got up to leave.

"Hold on," Chase said, pushing back the curtain and moving closer to House. "We aren't done yet."

House nodded in acceptance and sat back down.

"You're not my patient anymore," Chase declared.

"That's not your choice."

"I'm making it my choice."

"I never pegged you to back away from a tough fight."

"This isn't supposed to be my job. I came to the hospital to learn from you, not care for you. There's still plenty of work to be done, and I'm missing out."

House was pretty impressed with that argument. "You want to come back and work for me, even after all this?"

"Yeah."

House took a long hard look at Chase, making for damn sure he meant what he was saying and not just trying to be brave. He was serious. "We'll have to talk to Cuddy then. We can't do that until after tomorrow morning."

"Why not?"

"Verdict is at 9 am sharp. There might not be a Dr. House to work for anymore."

Chase shrugged. "We'll have to wait and see."

House nodded in agreement and took a few steps toward the door.

"I still have more beer you know," Chase said to House's back.

"You actually going to drink with me this time?" House asked, turning around to face him.

Chase smiled. "It's against my rule, but with you there are always exceptions."

House sat back down in the chair. "Well hurry up. Those beers don't serve themselves."

Chase disappeared into the other room, while House rubbed his hand against his sore leg. After all the recent turmoil, the new drugs, the changes, he had to admit, the pain was actually better. He'd have to keep that fact to himself though. He couldn't let that go to Chase's head.

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a/n: Thanks again for reading! Chapter 8 is the final chapter. That's guarantee.