"We're a teaching hospital. You are the longest lasting fellow he's ever had. You would be perfect to have your own class." He accepted the job gratefully. You didn't need a long attention span to be on the teaching side of school. He'd be fine as long as no one cared to remind him he was saying the same thing over and over again. He was still cute; someone would probably love to have that job. Things were starting to look up.

He didn't tell House about the job. They didn't talk much. Ever. As soon as he was given the deadline to move out, the older man avoided him at all costs. He said there was a big new case. The man tried not to care. If ever there was someone who understood the diagnostician, it wasn't him. The day he moved the last of his things out, the doctor hadn't even bothered to come home. He tried not to let it bother him as much but it felt weird to leave that apartment and have it feel so… So cold.

His new place could only be described by one word: empty. Sure, he could only remember less then a month of the past 2 years but that month had been filled with constants his new apartment lacked. Thumping of a cane. Music playing in every room. Cranky complaints coming from a certain man almost 24/7. All he got now was silence. He'd never been too big on quiet time. He never thought that he would miss waking up at 3 in the morning to House drunkenly singing along with catchy commercials.

That's the way life worked though. You get into a car accident, think you're 8 for 2 years and then get better all the sudden with no recollection of those years except for the gut feeling that you were missing out. Well that was the way his life worked out. His life. He just sat down on the couch and mindlessly starred at the wall where he would soon put a TV. He sat there all night, thinking the same thoughts over and over; never really seeming to get anywhere in his pretty little damaged head.

House was surprised to go to work a few days later and see the boy now man there. He didn't approach him, no. If he did then that meant he would have to talk to him and he wasn't in the mood. Instead, he stealthily followed him around the hospital, making sure he was he best damn cripple James Bond he could be, not noticed by his target at all.

He saw the best friend come up to his former living partner and give him a happy handshake. "Glad you're better." "Good to see you back." Him, he was spotted by. It was like the man had a special radar for him, always managing to find him not mater where he was or what disguise. (Magazine over face, cane in nearby potted plant.) "You're stalking him?" Of course it would look that way to most people. I was true. But he just made some remark about how hot young doctors always sulk around lecture halls nowadays. The other man could see right through the joke and badgered him all the way to his office.

"I'm happy he got a job. What do I care if he's here?" But the office chilled even more, if it was possible, at the words. The best friend and scornful room seemed to collaborate with each other as he began to spew out what he thought House's real feelings were. It always took being told exactly everything about yourself from someone else to get him to realize things. He wasn't happy for the man. After all, how could he leave someone before getting hurt when he wouldn't go away?

If anything, he was angry. Of course anger meant he'd never felt any guilt because the guilty are happy when the people they hurt regain their lives. He just wished that the man had stayed a boy. That way, at least he would be able to be there. Deep down he knew that it hadn't been enough and never would be. He was just so angry at everything.

The best friend left the cold office, not quite feeling like anything he said suck to Gregory House. The man met him in the cafeteria, not 5 minuets later as he contemplated everything. He looked a bit distressed, completely different then when he'd seen not too long ago. Politely, he asked what was wrong as he gathered the proper food on his tray. "Tell me it isn't true." The teacher demanded. Not harshly, a bit more confused with a little bit of mortification in there as well. He explained how he'd run into the boss and they'd began to talk. He told of how she'd said House fought for custody of him. Took care of him.

When the best friend confirmed the story, feeling as though he finally understood a bit better, the man gave him a distracted thanks and set off. He'd been lied to. He felt like an idiot, having been so completely under a wicked man's control for what he would now refer to as the worst years of his life. Now he was angry as well, imagining the sick pleasure the man had gotten out of parenting the child he had been a month before.

He barged into the cold office and began yelling. House, who wasn't in the mood either, joined him. They were both furious at the other, each feeling tremendously wronged. The former boy couldn't believe that someone he loved was actually that cruel. The older man was peeved because he'd had high hopes when the boy would turn back into a man and now those hopes were crushed. "Dammit! I didn't take you in because your state of mind amused me!" He yelled how most people would be grateful for not letting him rot in some clinic for the rest of their lives and not rubbing it in his face. Some people would be happy to have someone care for them as best as they damn well could.

But being yelled at was how he decided there was no way in hell he'd been taken in out of the good of the other man's heart. Here had to have been some ulterior motive. He paused and tried to think of what it could be. And idea came to him. Could the great House, despite all of his arguments, feel guilty over what had happened to him? It fit so perfectly that even the glass office seemed to scream as loud as it could, "GUILT! GUILT!"

Accusations were never taken well by the other party, who by now was the only angry one left. The former boy looked as if everything made sense now and his initial reaction to finding out where he had been as an 8 year old man had been wrong and out of line. He normally wasn't one to resort to yelling, his thoughts had just been playing too many tricks on him. He asked his denying ex-boss if here could even be any other reason to him taking him in.

"I love you."

"Same thing."

The office looked at them standing there within and dropped its usual frigidness. House wasn't guilty to have sent his employee out that night. As he'd said before, life was creative. It likes to make you dance before finally settling on its true intentions. And yes, he truly believed that was how it was all supposed to happen. He boasted to himself that he'd known all along what the outcome would be. Someone who knows, they can't possibly be guilty.