A/N: Here's an update more coming soon...PLEASE BE KIND and READ and REVIEW!!!!!
Wilson, sat in the recliner in House's ICU room, watching him breathe. He couldn't get over the thought that House was once again fighting for his life. How many times had he been here, like this? It was beginning to feel like this was all they ever did together any more. He was starting to consider what this hell was like for House. He found himself understanding why his friend didn't want to go on. After all, hadn't he, himself, just written a speech about the duty and ethics of doctors in aiding terminally ill patients to end their own lives? Was he being a hypocrite by forcing his best friend to keep suffering in pain and misery? The thoughts Wilson was hamster wheeling in his head were making him crazy. He needed to find a reason for House to keep living, if not for House's sake, then for his own.
Cuddy, sat in her office and stared out the window, she couldn't get any work done, her mind was all over the place. House was in ICU again, had nearly died again, and had begged his best friend to help him die. She hurt for House, she hated hearing his spirit broken. She hurt for Wilson and the pain he was feeling, he had just gotten his friend back and now he was losing him again. She realized that she hurt for herself, despite her recent cruel treatment of House and choosing Lucas over him, Lisa knew she loved House. But it was this never-ending chaos that drove her away. Her love for him was a complicated living thing that waxed and waned like the moon, it swelled in her chest when he smiled at her, and withered on the vine when he made her life hell. She couldn't stand the thought of losing House, she didn't know if her heart could take it. However, she was beginning to wonder if there was any hope for House's happiness, and if it might be selfish to keep intervening, to keep reviving his broken body.
Chase, wandered the halls like a ghost, feeling somewhat untethered by House's words, by the look of desperation on his face. Somehow, the misanthrope had wormed his way into Chase's heart, and he was finding it hard to watch him suffer. He supposed House was as close to a father as he was ever going to get, and their relationship had currents of emotion that went beyond those of mentor and mentee. After the Dibala disaster, Chase found House's support unexpected but surprisingly appreciated. He had been a little skeptical about the kinder gentler version of House, but enjoyed the new dimensions of the older man.
Foreman, was at home acting like nothing was wrong, that House's display of weakness had not shook him to his core. He had finally learned to accept the old bastard's behavior, and even had a fondness for him, but he had always respected his toughness, his superhuman, indestructible ego. This new House had been a little less of a pain in the ass but he'd thought House was still House. Until now, suddenly everything he had blamed on the vicodin and House's insane arrogance seemed like something else, something real. It made him wonder if he had been completely wrong. Maybe House was just as human as everyone else, maybe more so. Having his worldview so hopelessly turned on its side, made Foreman anxious as hell, and worried him more for House than he ever thought he could feel for the man. He sighed and grabbed his keys, 'Might as well head back to the hospital, there's no way I'm going to sleep…'
Taub, was sitting on his couch feigning interest in some show his wife was watching. He had a high ball glass of single malt in his hand, but he couldn't enjoy the smoky smoothness of it, he was too distracted. If his wife noticed his pensive mood she didn't say anything, she was happy just to have him home for a change. Taub had pretty much hated House from day one, but he couldn't deny the man's incandescent brilliance, and he was drawn to it like the proverbial moth to the flame. When Kutner had killed himself, he began loathing the very sight of the man, cringed to hear his voice. He blamed House for Lawrence's death, after all wasn't he supposed to notice everything? Where were his amazing observational skills when it mattered to people he knew? Taub found he couldn't forgive House's failure to save his friend. So why was he so shaken by House's current state? He'd felt the whole going mental thing was a ploy of some kind in a Housian scheme that would reveal itself later. But watching House beg his best friend to let him die was something he couldn't reconcile with his understanding of the man. He began to question his suppositions about things he had seen House do, about what he always considered as his insufferable arrogance and overweening ego. Suddenly he saw all of House's behavior as a form of false bravado, saw him now as a fragile and lonely man, who could not accept people, or allow them to get too close. He now saw House as a terribly sad but brave man, who kept his pain and his heart close to the vest. If House was human, then he had to look at his own failure to notice his friend's depression. Taub had avoided this truth for so long, and foisted the responsibility solely onto House's crooked shoulders completely. He was finding it hard to let go of his self-protective assumptions. Nevertheless, he couldn't lie to himself anymore, and he began grieving for Lawrence all over again.
Thirteen, sat in the conference room of diagnostics alone. She thought about what she heard House say. She completely understood why House wanted to end the pain he was in, especially since he no longer had a cocoon of opiates to live in. However, she found his readiness to give up disturbing. The doctor in her began to see it as a sign and not an answer in and of itself. Perhaps something was making House depressed, some organic process outside of his pain, beyond a shortfall of serotonin. She decided to run her own differential. Holding the dry erase marker in her hand, she began filling the white board with House's symptoms.