Sorry, this chapter pretty much took forever. I've just been swamped this week with work and school and my new found twitter obsession (the link is on my profile if you want to follow me lol I'm pretty boring but twitter is amazing in a 'i cant believe ive sunk to this low' kind of way).

Chase's POV:

You killed someone. Well, not someone – a dictator – the man was a fucking murderer himself. You committed a plethora of crimes on both the legal and moral tracks. And you know what? Nothing happened. You weren't indicted, you weren't smote by lightning, and for a while you had kept it a secret. Now of course, everyone knows, but that's Princeton-Plainsboro, too small a town for anything to be forgotten.

You do feel bad though; you know if you told anyone this you'd come off as callous and uncaring. Two things, which you know you aren't. Maybe you're an asshole, and you tend to ask for forgiveness instead of permission, but some think that's a good think.

Apparently, not your wife though. You want to remind her of the time she drugged a patient so he couldn't leave granted that situation didn't end well either. But, she left. She kissed you on the cheek and left town for two months.

You loved her, you still do. You've loved her since the day you told a teenage patient to look down her shirt for pain relief and she laughed at your immaturity. You knew then she was a woman you could love.

But, now she's back, and on a Tuesday no less. You feel like her presence is mocking you because you have no idea what she wants with you. You'd like to talk to her, but at the same time you really don't want to. You just want her back in bed with you after late nights of work, and sitting across from you at the dinner table holding your hand. You loved moments with her.

You know you deserve this though, and you can see things from her point of view. You just see things from your own point of view clearer, and you don't think what you did was that terrible. Well, you do, but you think the alternative would have been worse.

You're confusing yourself when all you really want to do right now is hit someone. Namely, House. He needs to stop bringing up what drove your wife away.

"Don't, Chase," Cameron raises her voice. Your attention is turned from House to her. She's exerting a power over you that you don't know if she should still have.

"We both know I have a hell of a hook, House." You growl instead. Cameron looks relieved, but she's just staring at you know. It's as if they've all suddenly decided it's your turn to speak, and you don't want to. You don't like to speak about yourself or your problems.

"What?" You ask, looking around. No one is saying anything. Foreman looks at you sadly, as if he too feels guilty. House doesn't really seem to care, he seems amused by this if anything. Taub looks frustrated, and Kutner isn't even looking at you. His focus is still on a horrified looking Thirteen.

You take a moment to study her. She is beautiful, you prefer petite blondes to her type of in your face fierce beauty, but no one could call her ugly. You realize how little you know about her. It's hard to imagine her looking differently, but her personality makes a lot more sense now. She's always intensely confident or an emotional wreck, the latter being a state that one rarely sees, but her lack of middle ground seems more normal now.

You two actually have a lot in common. You both did drugs, you both had rough childhoods in a one-parent household, and you both don't tend to talk about things. Yet, you've never actually really spoken to her. Not about anything serious anyway, which you suppose are the only topics that connect you. You doubt you could start a conversation with "so what was your favorite drug in high school?"

"Who did you try to kill?" You ask House, trying to clear your head of these racing thoughts, and get the attention off of you. Everyone looks a bit confused.

"You," Foreman says, as if you should have known.

"Me?" You ask, feeling more confused than upset.

"Our engagement party, strawberry body cream." Cameron reminds you as if its perfectly normal for her to be bringing that day up. You feel a chill come over your body. How could he have known?

"Don't beat yourself up over that House, even you aren't always expected to know every detail of everything." Taub says, guilt pouring from his voice, "I took a shot too, and I didn't know. Sorry, I said anything."

"I should have known," House says, with no hint of humor. He actually feels guilty? Weird.

"I'm not mad about that," You say. House shrugs his shoulders, and you know under the surface this is a huge moment for you two. You know you just let him off the hook big time, but you cant be mad at him with Cameron in the room. You cant get over the fact that she brings up your engagement party like its no big deal. Or that she came back without even calling you first, or that she left you in the first place.

"He could have died." Cameron says, not seeming to understand why this moment isn't so huge for either of you. You're allergic to strawberries, everyone's favorite fruit, it had happened before, but why does she suddenly care? You wonder if she wants to get back together, but you quickly shoot that idea out of your mind. Cameron isn't really the forgive and forget type.

"Like you care," You find yourself muttering before you have time to process what you just said. Her eyes turn a sort of grey color and her jaw clenches.

"Life is sacred, why am I the only one who seems to be able to remember that? It's amazing, it's a gift, and it's fleeting." She says, standing up off the floor and taking a seat in the corner of the room. She looks like she's just been hit in the gut. You fight the urge to comfort her because you know she's not yours anymore, and worse it's your fault she feels like this on so many levels. And, you cant even imagine how she actually feels because you have no idea how you feel. You keep going from mad to sad to crazy in the span of

"Life's not sacred," Kutner mumbles, and you thank god for his weird statement because now you have something else to focus on. Thirteen's head jerks up and hits him in the chin.

"Don't you dare say that," She says, scooting herself away from him, "You have no idea what it was like when we thought we had lost you."

"I lost me a long time ago," he says, sadly.