1House decided to take Wilson up on his offer and let him go see Chase. He stayed in his office, playing with his ball and wondered what was going on in the ICU. As Wilson left House alone and walked upstairs, he began to doubt that this was a good idea. He and Chase weren't particularly close and he knew that he would just think that House had sent him. But he was good at talking to people, so it was worth a shot.

He entered ICU, took a deep breath and headed to Chase's room. When he stepped in the room, Chase's eyes were closed, but he could tell by the way he was breathing that he was not asleep. He cleared his throat gently and Chase's eyes opened and moved to him. Upon seeing him, Chase rolled his eyes. "House sent you to come talk some sense into me? Typical." he muttered.

"No, House didn't send me. He told me what happened and I thought I'd come see you for myself." Wilson replied, keeping his voice even and gentle. It was his 'you're dying' voice.

"Come to see what shattered dreams look like?" he shot. Wilson smiled sadly.

"I'm an oncologist, Chase, it's what I see every day." Chase winced, he had forgotten.

"Okay, so it's a 'your life could be worse, you should be grateful' type deal?" he asked. Wilson moved forward and sat down on the chair that House had occupied for the better part of two weeks.

"No. You got a rotten deal and I would never make light of that. You have every right to be bitter and angry and hurt." Wilson paused as Chase processed that. "I just think that maybe you're taking it out on the wrong person." he said and Chase scoffed. "You don't know what it was like. I've never seen him like that in my whole life. He fought tooth and nail to save you and to save your legs. There was not a choice." he said firmly.

"He's House!" Chase argued. "There's always a choice, there's always three different answers to every problem. I worked with him for four years, he doesn't do what everyone tells him to do."

"He didn't this time either. They told him to pull the plug. They told him to say goodbye and to contact your family. They told him that even if they amputated your legs, you would not survive. He wouldn't listen. He sat there pouring over every single option that he had. Unfortunately, there weren't many. In fact, there were only two. Let you die or take your legs." Wilson stopped, trying not to get angry. "He moved from your side only once since you've been in ICU. He watched your entire surgery, even though they told him he needed to be resting."

Chase blinked. "But..." he tried to argue.

"Do you know where he was just now? After he left you?" Wilson asked.

"I assume he was with you."

"You assume wrong. He called Stacy, to ask her what to do. He's never been able to forgive Stacy for what happened, but this situation is different. House wouldn't have died without that surgery, you would have. Right now, he's debating showing you the pictures and the reports of the accident. For your sake, let's hope he decides against it."

"What does that mean?" Chase asked.

"It was gruesome, Chase, and I don't use that word lightly. I've seen people with their faces eaten away by cancer and what I saw on you was the worst thing I have ever seen in my life. All I'm asking is that you think about what it was like for him. He loves you, more than he's ever loved anybody. Just think about how you would feel if you had to make a choice between his life and his legs, even when you knew that the only choice would result in him hating you."

"I don't hate him." Chase choked. "I just don't know how he could make the decision he hates Stacy for."

"He didn't, it wasn't the same thing. Maybe you should see those reports." Wilson said, turning and leaving Chase alone to think about what he had just been told. Wilson had barely made it out of the room, when Chase called after him.

"Wilson!" He turned around and walked back in, looking at him questioningly. "Will...will you send House back?" he asked. Wilson nodded and moved to leave, before changing his mind and heading back to Chase's side.

"I know that you're angry and you're scared as hell, but if you let him, House could be the best person for you right now. He may not know exactly what you're going through, but he knows enough. Plus, he loves you so much. Don't push him away, don't make the mistake he made with Stacy. Love each other and you'll get through this. We're all pulling for you, Chase." Chase sank back against the pillows.

"Thanks." he muttered. Chase laid there contemplating what Wilson had told him. He wondered if he was right, if he needed to blame someone and he had just chosen House. He should be blaming the other driver, but in truth, he hadn't really even crossed his mind. It wasn't House's fault that they'd been in the accident. He was the one driving and the truck driver was drunk.

He closed his eyes, images of the accident coming to him for the first time. House had yelled just as the horns blared. He had turned the car so they were going sideways. Chase knew they were going to crash and all he could think was 'not House'. He couldn't live without the other man so he had swerved the car so he got the majority of the impact. He remembered sharp, shooting pain in his legs and then passing out.

Wilson was right, he was blaming House because he was a coward. He was trying to push him away before House left. Before he could think of anything else, he heard the squeak of the cane announcing House's approach. He took a deep breath and steeled himself.

House came around the corner and peaked in, ready to make a quick exit if Chase started screaming again. But his eyes were calm and so he stepped all the way in. "Am I welcome?" House asked, gruffly. Chase was immediately ashamed of himself. Against his will, he felt his eyes fill with tears and he looked down at his hands.

"Greg, I..." he tried. His throat closed up and he had to take a breath. "I'm sorry." He waited for a response and when he didn't get one, he finally looked up and saw him, standing exactly where he had been, his face not even changed. "Please, come here." he begged.

House moved slowly across the room, still unsure what would happen. When he was close enough, Chase reached out and grabbed at his hand. "Greg, I'm so scared and I...I don't know what to do." he admitted.

House sat down then, pulling Chase gently into his arms. He went easily, letting Greg hold him tight against his chest. "Why?" he cried, finally allowing himself to sob. "Why?"

"I don't know." House said, holding him as tight as he could.