House's apartment felt more lonely than usual. He had been too afraid that Wilson would wake up to fall asleep for more than a few minutes at a time at the hospital. He hung his cane on the molding above the door and proceeded to his bedroom. He popped another vicodin into his mouth and flopped down, fully dressed, onto his bed. He was exhausted but sleep wouldn't come. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Wilson. Sometimes he was smiling, sometimes nagging him, but mostly House saw Wilson as he had found him that night; his eyes glazed over and looking up at him. It hit House that Wilson had meant to kill himself. This hadn't been a cry for help. Had he been that self absorbed that he hadn't seen Wilson's pain? He had prided himself on seeing the lies that everyone hid below the surface, but he hadn't seen Wilson's. How long had Wilson been silently screaming at House for help? House finally fell asleep praying to a God he didn't believe in. It was out of the hospital's hands. Wilson would live or die and they couldn't do anything to sway favor their way.

House's sleep was troubled and fleeting. He tossed and turned all night until a knock roused him. Why is Wilson knocking? It was only when House opened his eyes that he realized it wasn't Wilson knocking at his door. Wilson was still in a coma at PPTH. House scrambled to get out of bed hoping that it was Cameron coming to tell him that Wilson had woken up. His leg cried out in protest, but he ignored it. Vicodin could wait. When he threw open the door Chase was standing there with a a box of donuts and a cup of coffee. House felt his heart sink. "What do you want?"

"It's almost noon. Cuddy wanted me to make sure that you were okay." Chase stepped into House's apartment as House retreated to the kitchen.

"Cuddy didn't send you out of the kindness of her heart. Why are you here?" House pulled a carton of milk out of the fridge and set it on the counter.

"She was worried about you." Chase tried to deflect, but he could tell that House could see right through him.

"Cuddy didn't send you." House pulled a mug out of the cabinet and poured himself a glass of milk, not exactly his perfect choice for a morning beverage, but Chase had only brought one coffee.

Chase set the box of donuts down next to the carton of milk and took a sip of his coffee. "No, she didn't send me. I came because I was worried about you." He steeled himself for House's sneer, but it never came.

"I don't need your comfort. I'm taking a shower." House left Chase standing alone in the kitchen. The hot water felt good oh his sore muscles. He had assumed that Chase would catch on and leave, but when House had dried off and dressed Chase was still standing in the kitchen drinking his coffee. "Didn't get the hint?" House sat down at the table and popped two vicodin.

"I'm not good with subtleties." Chase watched House as he rifled through the box on the counter before pulling out a chocolate glazed donut. "So..."

House waved a hand to silence Chase. "I don't want to talk about my feelings." As if to emphasize his point he bit off almost half of the donut he was holding.

Chase ran a hand through his hair and set his coffee down. "I didn't think you would. I was going to ask if you were going back to the hospital and if you wanted a ride."

House polished off the rest of his donut before throwing on his jacket. Chase followed him to the door without a word. House didn't know what he wanted to say and even if he did, what good would it do?

The ride from his apartment to PPTH was every bit as silent as Chase had thought it would be. He could almost feel the tension as he parked the car. He could see hesitancy in House. "I just want you to know that if you do want to talk. I'll listen." House nodded once and Chase took his cue to head inside.

House followed Chase into the building and they went their separate ways. Cameron was sitting on the chair next to Wilson like she had last night. "Thank you." He didn't look at her when he said it.

Cameron smiled. She hadn't expected House to thank her. "You're welcome." She stood up and let House take the seat next to Wilson. "I'm going to go home and change and put in some clinic hours. If you want me to stay with him again, just page me." She watched House nod before leaving.

For once House was glad that he didn't have a patient; no puzzle to focus on to distract him. He replayed the night over and over in his head. Had Wilson hinted at it? There should have been signs. How could everyone who knew Wilson not see some sort of cry for help? House could feel his chest tighten.

"There were no signs, House." Cuddy was surprised that for once she had easily read House. "One of us would have seen them if there were." She walked over to House and put a hand on his shoulder. He tensed up, but didn't shy away from her.

"I pushed him Cuddy. I finally pushed him too far." He squeezed Wilson's hand. I won't do it again if you just wake up.

"You didn't do this, House. The doctor in you knows that." She let go of House's shoulder and sat down next to him.

"Why are you here?" He looked at her eyes, just as blood-shot as his own. He couldn't help but wonder if she didn't blame herself too.

"Wilson named you his power of attorney." She hated having to do this, but if Wilson didn't wake up soon someone would have to start taking care of his affairs.

"Doesn't he have family or something for that?" House had never felt such a weight on his chest before.

"He chose you. That means he trusts you." Cuddy wanted to comfort House. She knew how hard it was or someone to have to make those kinds of decisions for someone they cared about. It was hard enough to make them as a doctor, let alone a friend.

House sighed and nodded his head.