There was no pretending House wasn't a little fucked up right now. He was still grieving. He'd been a wreck for the past two weeks. Drinking, mostly. But the only thing that had really made him want to stop was the desire to see Danny. And to not be a wreck for him.

His leg suddenly buckled and he grunted in pain. He'd go see Fin the next day.

"Let's go sit down," he said.