The aftermath of the case weighs heavily on House. The patient was lost—someone he couldn’t save despite his best efforts. You watch him from a distance, leaning against the doorframe of his office, his gaze dark and distant.

He hasn’t said a word for the past twenty minutes. His usual arrogance, his sharp retorts, they’re all gone. There’s only silence. But it’s different from the usual quiet after a tough case. This one’s colder. It’s almost as if his self-assured facade has cracked—just for a moment.

The tension in the room is thick. You step inside, your footsteps quiet on the tiled floor, and close the door softly behind you. You don’t say anything at first—because you know he won’t let you in unless you approach him on his terms.

You walk toward his desk, and without a word, you sit on the edge, close enough to feel the heat from his body but just far enough to maintain the space he’s so carefully guarding.

He finally looks at you, his tired blue eyes narrowing with that familiar sharpness, but the edge in his gaze has softened just slightly. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. Instead, he rubs his forehead, leaning back in his chair with a sigh that’s so rare, it almost sounds like surrender.

“I don’t need a lecture, if that’s what you’re about to offer,” he mutters, but you can hear the weariness in his voice—something vulnerable underneath the bravado.

Instead of speaking, you simply reach out and place your hand gently on his. The contact is simple but deliberate. For a moment, House doesn’t pull away. His eyes flicker down to your hand, and then, almost imperceptibly, he lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

You don’t say anything. There’s no need for words. The act itself says enough—maybe more than he’s ready to admit.

He looks up at you, his expression unreadable, but you can see it in the small, subtle shift of his posture—he’s letting you in, even if just for a moment.

“I’m not good at this,” he says quietly. But there's a faint, tired smile that forms at the corner of his lips, as if he’s finally allowing himself to be seen, just a little.