He did not want to see her like this.
Of course, House was relieved that he was able to find her. But she looked so unlike herself that it disturbed him. She didn't smile often, but when she did…
"Smile, please…"
She was sitting in a simple chair, its back against the wall. Her eyes were still dull and her gaze was far away. As he stared at her, House wondered what she was thinking about.
Don't do anything stupid, he thought as he moved closer to her.
"Remy," House placed his translucent hands on her shoulders, but he knew that he would not be able to comfort her this way. Don't be like this… "I didn't mean for this to happen. I didn't want to die…"
Thirteen wrapped her arms around herself. "So… cold…"
House moved away from her and turned to the window. The rain was still falling, but the sun looked as if it was trying to come out from behind the clouds in an attempt to lighten the mood. When the clouds finally broke, House slowly turned back to look at Thirteen, hoping that the sun might wake her from the state she was in.
Blinking slowly, Thirteen looked up at the temporary sunlight shining from the window. In that instant, her teary eyes widened as she gasped.
"H…H…House…! How are you here?!" Alertness quickly washed over her face as she stood in front of him.
"You can see me?"
They gazed at each other for a moment. Thirteen stared in disbelief and reached out to touch House's ethereal form. When her hand passed through him, she recoiled and sat back down.
"No… I'm just losing it… he's not there… There's no reason for him to be…"
Thirteen looked up toward the window again and sighed. The sunlight was gone, and so was any visible trace of House. He was still there, invisible to her tearful eyes.
I do have a reason to be here, House thought. If only I could tell you…
"Don't leave me here… time… time is always running out… I didn't know… I wanted to…"
Tears fell from her eyes and Thirteen buried her head in her hands. House wished that he would have been more careful that day, maybe he should have told her then, before it was too late.
He sat on the floor next to her, reflecting on the words that she uttered. Time… I guess time was never on our side to begin with.
Pausing, House looked up at Thirteen, disheartened. If only there was some way for her to hear me, at least…
"Remy," House said her name slowly, just for the sake of saying it once more. Thirteen's head snapped up.
"…House?"
House stood in front of her, but she continued to look right through him. This might work…
"Are you in my mind?" Tears were falling down her face, her head in her hands once again.
"No… I'm here. Please believe me..."
"Are you a…ghost?" She choked on the last word.
"Something like that," House responded.
"Why did you come back? Did you really want to see me like this? You can see me, can't you?"
"There's something I need to do. I need to tell you—"
Before House could finish, there was a knock at the door. Thirteen cursed under her breath and slowly stood up, walking to the door. She quickly wiped the tears from her face before opening the door.
Wilson was standing on the other side of the door. House stood behind Thirteen as they spoke.
Why the hell is he here? House wondered.
"I heard that you weren't handling this particularly well," Wilson said as Thirteen reluctantly motioned for him to enter. He had a relieved look on his face. He was probably glad to see that she hadn't done anything too reckless.
"I'm fine. I'm handling it like any normal person would handle someone dying."
"I'm just… surprised that you're this upset about House," Wilson said bluntly.
"I'm surprised that you're not," Thirteen retorted.
Wilson was taken aback. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead he sighed. "I'm sorry. I just didn't think you were very close to him… Is there anything I can do?"
House wondered what she was thinking. If it was him, he probably would have told Wilson to go away. House would have wanted to be alone if he were in mourning.
"I… was talking to House before you came," Thirteen said after a while. She was looking at the floor.
Wilson looked incredulous. "Remy, he's dead. You can't be serious."
Thirteen looked at him, completely serious. "I did talk to him. Why won't you believe me…?"
"Any other time, I would believe you," Wilson said, heading for the door. "Not today, though. I just… don't want to get my hopes up too high. I'll miss him, but I'll have to wait until I'm dead to speak with him again…"
Before he left, Wilson turned to Thirteen. "I'm sorry about all this. Please… take care of yourself."
The door closed with a soft click, and Thirteen was alone again. House stood next to her, wondering if he should speak.
"Are you still here?" She asked.
"Yes."
"What do you need to tell me?" Thirteen was staring at the window.
The sharp pain in his leg returned as House tried to think of what he needed to say. "I… don't remember."
Thirteen frowned. "…I wanted to tell you something. But I'll wait until I hear what you have to say. Is that all right?"
"Yes."
Although House knew his time was running out, he wanted to be with her for a while. He could handle the pain. He had to.