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House stared into the darkened sky, resting his elbows on the ledge of the rooftop. He turned his head when he heard the door opening. He let out a quiet groan when Stacy walked through the door, "Here we go..." He muttered, rubbing his forehead.
Stacy walked up to House, "He's sick, paranoid," Stacy angrily yelled as she grabbed House's shirt, "And you keep hammering him about me?"
House took a step back, his back hitting the concert ledge of the roof, "The questions were designed to define the operational parameters of his limbic system," He explained.
"Elevate the words all you want," She said, furrowing her brows, "You were just screwing with him. Low even by your standards," She let go of his shirt and stepped back away from House.
House glanced away, letting out a small sigh, "Medical screwing. It's what I do."
"And then you run away like a 12-year-old. Hide on the roof like you always do," She said, placing her hands on her hips.
House looked Stacy in the eyes, "I haven't been up here in five years." House sighed, awkwardly turning away from Stacy, "I don't know what's wrong with him. It's not Alzheimer's, not encephalitis. It's not environmental, it's not immunological.."
House looked up at the sky, "He's perfectly healthy, but his brain is dying."
Stacy stood there, shocked at House's words. She took a moment, blinking away any tears that were forming in her eyes, before speaking up, "Never occurred to me... That you couldn't figure out what's wrong."
House looked at Stacy, and he let out a sigh at her distraught and upset face, "Don't worry, I haven't given up," He said before walking to the door, "I'll figure it out."
"Wait." Stacy yelled out as House was about to walk through the door, "What are you going to do?" She asked.
"We're gonna wait. See if anything changes." House looked at the door, "Something always changes." He said, walking through and leaving Stacy behind on the roof. Stacy took a moment for herself before deciding to also head back in.
