Kelly had been expecting him. Ever since Wilson had called her to tell her that House was dead. A call which thankfully came AFTER Greg's email swearing her to secrecy about his apparent UNdeadness. She'd been tempted to attend his funeral just for the theatrics.
Not a word from him since, but his email, while cryptic about the details of his "death", was not cryptic about the details of his life. And so she'd been expecting him.
When House had tried to use his Christmas gift from Phillip on a commercial flight without any ID, Kelly's dad had been alerted to the situation, and asking no questions had pulled some strings and chartered a private plane. Then he had called his daughter and told her there was someone she needed to pick up at the airport.
She met the plane on the tarmac, climbing aboard while the engines were powering down. She asked the pilot to keep the air on for them, to give them time. And time was needed, because as soon as House saw her, he finally, fully, fell apart.
"He's dead," House choked out, clinging to her.
And with tears in her own eyes, grieving Wilson, grieving House's broken heart, she held him until neither of them had any tears left.
Later, Kelly behind the wheel of her SUV as they drove to her parents home - House was too drained, too needy, to protest - House made another observation. "I'm dead, too."
"Rumour has it." She smiled and squeezed the fingers that were wrapped around hers in her lap. "So what does that mean?"
She glanced at him, saw that he was staring straight ahead, embodying "lost". "I honestly have no idea."
They were both silent for a long time. Then: "Once upon a time I lost someone I loved. And it took a cross-country road trip with a friend to help me start to heal."
"Ocean to ocean," House said, remembering.
"Ocean to ocean," Kelly repeated. "And whatever the hell pops up in between."
The corners of his lips turn up. "Could be a long trip."
"You're dead and I'm rich," she reminded him. "So we could take our time. Take all the time we want." She squeezed his fingers again. "Take all the time you need."
House let out a long breath. "I've changed a lot. Since we were... whatever we were."
"I've heard death will do that to a person," she quipped lightly. "To be fair, I think you'll find I may have changed a bit, too. I'm not worried. Ocean to ocean - that's lots of time to get to know someone again."
"But -"
"But nothing. If it takes longer than that, we'll turn around and make our way back. Along the scenic route."
"Ocean to ocean," House said again, considering. He couldn't return to his old life; not without going to prison. And anyway, his job was gone, his best friend was gone. Even without prison, there was nothing to go back to.
What Kelly was offering him was an extension, he recognized. Which was what he needed right now, having come directly from holding Wilson across his lap as he watched his life slip away. He was in an impossible situation, and he was in no state to try to manipulate his way out of it.
He needed time. He needed distraction. He needed to mourn and to heal. And, he could admit to himself now, he needed her. Through it all - Cuddy and prison and marriage and drugs and all the rest - he had never truly stopped needed her.
And so his response was the only one he could be expected to give, and the only one she would have accepted: "Why the hell not."