The Duckling's have never been so confused about what was going on than they were now. There were rumours going around saying that House had gotten demoted, but other rumours were around saying that he had gotten fired. None of them could get a straight answer from anybody, not even Cuddy or Wilson, who seemed to be dancing around their questions as if they had no idea what was going on either. They haven't seen House since he had been pulled away for a performance review. He had been acting so strange that day anyway; wearing a lab coat, trying to be polite, it was almost unnerving and now they haven't seen him since. Recently it had been Wilson handing out cases to them. The Ducklings were frustrated with the lack of communication; if House was on leave or some kind, then they could have just told them that. They were adults; they would understand if their boss needed a break, he worked too much, after all, and it would be understandable to need a vacation. Though, if House was on any sort of vacation he would have been bragging to the team that he'd be out and they'd be stuck here.

On the other side of the building, this entire thing was driving Stacy crazy, and while she knew it was inappropriate to look up House's information from the database, she couldn't stop herself. She had to be sure that House was okay; whether he had gotten fired or on a leave or vacation, she just needed to be sure. Especially since he wasn't answering anyone's calls or texts, it was concerning, to say the least. She had to try one more time before she made any decisions.

Knocking quietly, Stacy opened Wilson's office door to see him sitting behind his desk, looking as tired as she felt. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he appeared to be going in and out of focus, clearly not at all interested in doing work.

"Got a minute?" Stacy asked gently, leaning against the door frame.

Wilson cleared his throat, sitting up straighter in his chair as he closed his laptop. He was trying to put up a front that nothing was wrong or bothering him; with the power of being a lawyer, Stacy was able to see through the mask. He wasn't good at masking, or at least, she assumed that since she met House, everyone who masked did it poorly.

"Yeah, what's up?" Wilson questioned, clearing his throat again. Whether whatever was going on with House was bothering him or something else entirely, Stacy couldn't tell, but she was determined to find out either way. "Sorry… um…." He picked up a stack of papers before dropping them right back onto the desk. "Didn't hear you… work."

"Right…." Stacy closed the door behind her as she entered Wilson's office further. "We need to talk about House," she said, leaving no room for debate on this subject matter. It was almost like bringing him up was a curse. "Where is he? I'd assume he finally got fired, but I would hear about it, and his office hasn't been torn down."

Wilson's eyes widened a moment, looking away from her to grab something on his desk to move around suddenly, hiding from the conversation. He knew. Of course, he knew, but House losing his position and being demoted was the only thing he knew. Wilson wanted to know what was going on with House too, but Cuddy and Vogler were making things difficult. Wilson couldn't get a hold of his best friend; texting didn't work, going to his apartment didn't work, so either House was avoiding him, or he went MIA. House didn't run, and House certainly didn't hide, so what else was going on?

"No. Nothing like that…." Wilson started softly. When he looked up, he saw Stacy giving him a look that told him to continue talking, but he wasn't sure how suddenly. It felt like he ate his own tongue and choking on air. "He's just-"

"Just what?" Stacy pressured, folding her arms over her chest, trying to appear as annoyed and impatient as possible to get him to keep talking. "He's cut out everyone, or… his team at least. I have no idea who else he'd talk to. You're his best friend-"

"Yeah, I know," Wilson uncharacteristically cut her off. "I'm sorry… I didn't mean to snap at you."

They were both silent for a moment before Stacy decided it was time to break it again. She dropped her arms and sat in the chair in front of Wilson's desk. She didn't want to argue with anyone, especially not Wilson, who she knew would tell her anything that she needed just by asking.

"Wilson, look… I've been worried about him. I don't know what happened, okay? Is he okay at least?" Wilson couldn't help but let out a small, defeated chuckle as he rubbed his eye, causing Stacy to raise an eyebrow at his response. "What?"

"He's… okay… by House standards."

"What does that mean? Something obviously happened. He had his performance review, did he get fired?"

"No," he strongly confirmed this time. "No. He and Vogler… got into it."

"Suspended?"

"Technically no…."

"You're avoiding the question."

"I'm not trying to! I don't really know…."

"Have you heard from him then?" Stacy scoffed. "Does anyone know if he's alive?"

It was a joke to Stacy, but to Wilson and Cuddy, that wouldn't have been a joke. They have only known House for a couple of years, but they've seen some of his downs, and they weren't pretty. This is why they've been doing their best to try to get a hold of him, even though it had been a couple of days of silence they didn't want to immediately jump for a welfare check; that would make things worse; they'd agree they would give him a week, and after that, they would get a check done at his apartment. Wilson and Cuddy have visited his apartment a couple of times, trying to talk to him through the door only to get nothing in return; they were just hoping that he was rotting in bed instead of dead and rotting away in his bedroom. Hopefully.

"Call? Text? Anything?" Stacy pushed some more.

"He's just having a rough time-"

"And it's normal for-…." Stacy cut herself off. From the conversation she had with him the other day that involved her comforting House and him telling her vulnerable things about himself, she could believe that this would be normal behaviour if he was upset about something. "He was upset last time I talked to him, but I didn't think it'd be bed-rotting upset."

Wilson sighed again.

"Okay, okay…." He started, finally giving in. "Don't tell his team, please? But… there was a Board meeting before his first performance review, and they voted on House being demoted."

It took a moment for his words to process.

"Demoted? For what?"

"Vogler thinks he's too young-"

"Age discrimination. Go on."

"And doesn't have enough 'experience' for his position."

"…and what do you think?" She asked softly. "Do you think he doesn't have enough experience?"

Wilson was silent, spinning slightly in his chair as he stared down at his desk. That question was like a slap in the face. Of course he didn't want to say he was too young or too inexperienced to be Head of Diagnostics; House was great at what he did. Great at his job. There were about a hundred patients that he saved single-handedly and a couple hundred more when he had a team created. It was a department created just for him. Were there times that Wilson and others believed that he was childish, and other times he appeared to be lazy, but that couldn't be further from the truth. Sure, he hated clinic; all doctors did. God, this question was tough, and he didn't want to give the basic answer because everyone knew that Wilson was House's best friend, but he wanted to speak from his heart, too.

"I think…." Wilson started, letting out another sigh. "I think he has enough experience. He's a… he's different. But he's one of the best doctors we have. He ran the department by himself for about a year before Cuddy made him get a team together. He's worked harder than anyone else I ever met." He paused for a moment, thinking of what he wanted to say next. "He's always been put down for his age, so he puts on his front. He put in, god… about eighty hours a week when he was by himself."

"Sounds like he has plenty of experience."

"Cuddy and I would agree. It's Vogler that's the problem."

Stacy only nodded silently as she was taking in everything that Wilson was telling her. There was a chance that Wilson was only saying these things because he and House were close. However, that wasn't the vibe that Stacy was picking up on. House was someone who took time to warm up to someone; hell, it took months just for him to tell Wilson his name. Cuddy has mentioned from time to time that he's been coming out of his shell more in terms of opening up to people; apparently, when she first told House that he needed a team instead of doing everything by himself, he threw a fit for weeks, but once his team was assembled he began to open up to them and overall being comfortable around them.

This wasn't an age or an experience issue. This was Vogler wanted to control someone who couldn't be controlled.

"That's all I needed," Stacy mumbled as she stood up. "Thanks."

Wilson watched her for a moment, trying to piece this line of questioning together. Stacy was the hospital's lawyer; she and House only talked about legal things, so he didn't understand why she was trying to get more information. Sure, being concerned about House wasn't a crime, but he assumed that she had already been caught up on what happened. Most would assume the biggest legal issue not being around to cause anymore trouble would have been something a lawyer would celebrate. Unless something else was going on behind the scenes, there were a couple of times House would point out how hot Stacy was, only to earn an eye roll and a lecture from Wilson not to go after the lawyer.

"It was a board decision," Wilson added quickly in case she was doing some sort of investigation. He wasn't saying that it wasn't right of what happened, but he also didn't want her to go after Cuddy.

"Right… so… you and Cuddy were the only ones who didn't vote him out?"

"Yes…."

Stacy nodded a moment.

"Well. He should be happy to have friends like you two."

"Was that sarcasm?"

"Not at all."

There was nothing interesting about what House had been doing for the past three days. The most he's done was go down to the corner store to pick up alcohol. Otherwise, he didn't leave his apartment. His phone had been blowing up since he walked out after the meeting with Cuddy and Vogler, giving him the news that he either stepped down or got fired, and he didn't respond to any of the messages or calls. Not his teams, and especially not Cuddy or Wilson's; he was too embarrassed to speak to his team, and he was too furious right now to speak to them, not knowing when or if he would be able to forgive them. Whatever, he didn't need them in his life anyway.

House grumbled, staring mindlessly at the TV as he sat on the couch, drinking himself into a coma for the third night in a row. His mind was fuzzy from the whisky; at some point, he ditched pouring the alcohol into a glass and began drinking it straight from the bottle. He closed his eyes, the noise of the TV merging with each other until he sounded like complete gibberish. Occasionally, he'd hear his phone vibrate, but he ignored it just as he had been for the past few days. House was already someone who closed himself off socially; this entire situation caused him to close off more than usual. He wanted to be alone, and he wanted everyone else to understand that. Should he send them a message saying that he was fine and needed space? Sure. Was he going to? Nope.

The noises of his apartment didn't bother him or wake him from 'resting his eyes,' though his eyes shot open when he heard something else. Something that he couldn't tell was in his mind or was real. House opened his eyes only to be met with the room spinning. He groaned, closing his eyes again, hoping that the feeling would go away.

His eyes shot open once again, knowing that he was sure he heard someone knocking at the front door. He grumbled, knowing that whoever it was wasn't going to go away until he responded. If it was Cuddy or Wilson again, he wouldn't waste any time screaming at them to go away. In fact, House had been hoping that they'd show up again so he could do just that.

Fuck them.

With a huff, House set the whisky bottle down a little too roughly down on the coffee table before standing up, having to use the couch as support so he wouldn't tumble to the floor. Again.

"Okay!" House yelled as he heard someone knocking at the door again. "God!" He huffed, stumbling a bit as he managed to make it to the door, leaning against it for a moment with a groan before managing to unlock it. "What?" He snapped, only for his brain to slowly process who was standing on the other side. "…who set you up to do this?" He slurred, making sure he was able to slam the door in her face in case anybody else was with her.

Stacy stood on the other side, giving him a small yet concerned smile, happy to see that he was at least alive. Drunk but alive. She could smell the alcohol radiating from him, even though they were about a foot apart. Did he always get this drunk, or were the circumstances causing him to act this way? She didn't know. She didn't care to know. She was just happy to see him.

"Nobody," she said, eyes not leaving his. "I was worried about you. Is that a crime now?"

"Just… didn't expect to see you." House groaned as the world began spinning, resting his head on the door frame. "I look like shit, I don't want you seeing me-"

"You always look like shit," Stacy said playfully, causing him to look at her with only one eye open. "But it's okay…."

"Why are you here? Gonna give me some… lecture Cuddy and Wilson wrote?"

"No. I told you I was worried about you." She paused, looking him over before letting out a sigh. He wasn't in the best mental state; she could have gathered that without talking to Wilson. "Are you by yourself?"

"I don't need a babysitter."

"Is that a yes?"

House grumbled, closing his eyes and lightly bumping his forehead against the door frame. He wanted to be alone, he wanted to drink himself to sleep, and he hoped to wake up and that the whole demotion thing would pass. Hell, he'd pray to whatever god was listening to have him wake up and Vogler wasn't real. Never existed and never turned his work life upside down. He hated change; even the smallest change could set him off. That's why he warned his Ducklings that if they touched anything in his office, he would 'kill himself.' It was a joke. Kinda. He wouldn't go that far, but he wouldn't handle it well. Now, he had someone new visit him at his apartment after being demoted. This wasn't helpful.

"I want to be alone."

Stacy raised an eyebrow, folding her arms across her chest.

"Oh really?" She challenged with a small smirk. "I don't think you want to be alone as much as you say you do."

"You think you know me…."

"I think we're much alike."

House opened his eyes, his vision blurry for a moment before focusing in to see that damn smirk on her face. Unfortunately, Stacy was like House more than either of them realized. They both were alone. Painfully alone. They were drawn to each other like magnets; House thought that he was going to be working medical cases in his office until the day he died, knowing that the man he once thought was going to be the one he ended up with was married with kids. Even though House could see the signs that Wilson's wife Julie was cheating on him, whether or not Wilson realized it or was just purposely blinding himself to it, House wasn't sure. Now, he met Stacy. His first impression of her was that she was hot, unable to make any moves since she was the hospital's lawyer. House likes to push boundaries, but he knew his limit this time. He didn't know her long, but the fact that he was willing to go to her when he had nobody else to talk to showed that there had to have been something between them.

"Like I said… I pray that we're not much alike."

"Why? Don't want anyone to feel as miserable as you do?"

"I'm not miserable. I'm depressed."

Did he really just say that? He admitted that? Dammit. Not even Wilson could get that information out of him unless he was practically torturing him for it. It had to have been the alcohol; there was no way he'd admit to his depression if he was sober. There was just something about Stacy that he couldn't put his finger on.

"What?" House snapped in frustration with himself. "Don't pity me. I'm fine."

"Move."

"What?" House grunted as she let herself inside his apartment, flickering on the lights to reveal it to be in a messy state. "What?" He asked again, only this time a bit more whiny.

Stacy reached over to close the door.

"You're depressed?" She questioned, staring at him in hopes that he wouldn't decide to lie to her. He had no reason to, but from what she knew of him, he valued his pride over anything else. "And you decided not to tell anybody?"

"I have no one to tell," he said, moving past her to plop onto the couch with a grunt. He kicked his feet up on the coffee table, staring blankly at the TV, not listening to a word of what was going on. "Don't play therapist with him. I'm sure that's out of your pay range."

"Is that why you're completely wasted?" Stacy asked, sitting next to him.

House went silent, still staring at the TV to act as though he was watching it. He wasn't. There were so many jumbled thoughts going through his head; none of them were making sense to him now, but he would remember them when he was sober. He wanted to tell Stacy all his thoughts, all his feelings, and he had a feeling she was in the same boat. Between all the nonsense in his head, he suddenly jumped to the day Stacy kissed him after he vented to her and told him some personal details about himself. She had been cautious, giving him all the space he needed in case he wanted to move away from her; he couldn't pull away; he had been in shock, worried about making the wrong move. Everything was so confusing right now.

"It's part of it," he finally said, rubbing his face with his entire hand. "Other stuff, too."

"Like what?"

Stacy wasn't giving him any space to back out of this conversation. How could she? House had just told her that he was feeling depressed, which could go down a bad way, and she couldn't let that happen. It drove Stacy insane with the amount of work she had with his malpractice lawsuits, but it showed what type of person he was. The majority of the time, he did whatever he could to save these patients, even if that meant he had to go off the books to do so. The other times only made Stacy giggle with how ridiculous his clinical lawsuits went. Charges could tell a lot about a person. Stacy could see a man who was passionate but didn't like being told what to do. She couldn't let anything bad happen to him.

"House," she started when House didn't respond, "I don't know how often you hear this… but you're a great doctor."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah…. You're the last person I expected to hear that from. Lawsuits and all."

"Some of them can be entertaining," she admitted with a shrug. Stacy admired the fact that House could get in trouble a million times but continued to do exactly what he could to do his job. She laid her head on his shoulder, looking up at him.

House's heart was slamming against his chest once she did this. Nobody has ever done that to him before. The nurses that he had one-night stands with tried to get close to him like this, but he refused to let them touch him once they finished. This time was different. Stacy was different. The way she touched him was gentle, basically hovering in case he became uncomfortable with this. That was the last thing she wanted, and House certainly didn't want to have a meltdown in front of her. It took a moment for the action to process, but House eventually rested the side of his head against hers, letting out a sigh. This almost felt natural.

"You are so drunk," Stacy snorted a small laugh. "You reek of alcohol."

"Yeah… that's what drinking alcohol does to you." He paused for a moment, realizing how much it was affecting him. "Why'd you kiss me?"

Stacy let out a small sigh, a hand gently coming up and resting it against his chest. Because she wanted to feel if his heart was pounding just as much as hers was, and she wanted to feel closer to him. Why did she kiss him? God, she couldn't even answer that question. It felt right? She felt bad for him? No. She didn't feel bad for House; nobody felt bad for him. She felt like it was right. Almost like they were connected.

"I dunno…" she lied, leaning fully against his side, her legs curled up underneath her.

"You dunno? Someone doesn't kiss someone for no reason."

"Yeah… you're too smart even when you're drunk." She looked up at House, meeting his eyes. "Just… because. I can't explain it."

House groaned, not from Stacy's response, but the alcohol was starting to affect him physically. He wanted to lean down and kiss her, but he knew he wouldn't be able to in this state. He leaned his head back against the couch, letting out a sigh.

"I should go…" Stacy said, moving away from him, leaving House feeling cold and empty. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

"No," he said suddenly, causing Stacy to jump at his voice when he raised his head up. "No, I… can you stay? I'm waaay too drunk to be on my own."

Did he seriously just ask her to stay with him? It had to have been the alcohol talking. House had too much pride to want - no, need someone to stay with him, especially in his own apartment. Only a bit ago, House stated that he wanted to be alone, that he liked to be alone, only to twist his words around.

"So you're asking me to stay?" She wanted to confirm this before any decisions were made. "You really want that? I figured that would damage your ego."

"Shut up," he slurred a bit, feeling exhausted all of a sudden. "Can you? I'm lonely."

"Defiantly the alcohol talking."

"Whatever."

"Yeah. Sure." Stacy tried to hold back her smile but was failing miserably. Her face burned, turning red as she traced her hand across his jaw, looking him in the eyes. As much as she wanted to kiss him right now, she knew that she shouldn't while he was drunk. "You look tired."

"Hm… can you take me to bed? Can't walk."

Stacy rolled her eyes at his pathetic whining.

"Fine. Where's your room?"

House whined, holding his arms up like a child, causing Stacy to roll her eyes again. He was so annoying sometimes. She grabbed his hands, helping him stand up, only for him to stumble slightly, having to support his side so he wouldn't fall onto the coffee table.

"Aww, aren't you sweet helping me like this?" House slurred as they walked towards his bedroom. "You'll look sooo good on my bed."

"Shut up. You're drunk; we're not doing anything."

"I didn't say that!" House said quickly, not wanting her to think that the only reason he asked her to stay was because he wanted to have sex with her. Did he? Yeah, of course, but that's not all he wanted. "Is it wrong to wanna cuddle or something?"

"Is that what you want? You wanna cuddle?"

"Don't say it like thaaat."

Stacy grunted as she helped him get to his bed, laying him down.

"You're lucky you're cute."

Stacy grabbed the blanket, trying to pull it up over House before he grabbed her waist, bringing her closer to the edge of the bed. Out of all the things that she expected to happen when checking up on him, this was the bottom of the list. Were things moving too fast? She couldn't tell, but she wasn't complaining. Her face turned red as she climbed over him to get into the bed; for a brief moment, she had straddled him. God.

"Only cuddling," she reminded him.

"Only cuddling," he echoed.