A weight lifted off her shoulders to heave down on her chest.
It's a loss. It's safe.
In the back of her mind, she knew there was nothing to be afraid of. In the front of it, she had every reason to be.
A single message from Wilson. House is gone.
The day passed her by like a phantom. Her thoughts clouded, work the only thing dragging her through the mud.
Could it be? Could a man like that be dead? How un-House like.
Death is a prospect beyond him. As if he's an entity himself.
The jerk…
She settles in the night, with Rachel in her arms.
Half glad he's gone, half disappointed he could die. And sad, honestly sad. She did love the man, despite her best judgment.
Drowned in the sea of what she could say, only one thing comes to mind: Goodbye.
Echoed from when she stood at his door, aware of the pain they'd always cause one another.
Goodbye was enough, goodbye should be fitting.
Goodbye, House.