for Chase

House was sitting on the bed in his room with his back against the wall and feet dangling off of the end, tossing the tennis ball up in the air and catching it.

He was feeling a little better today after the horrendous previous one. Chase had been right, of course; the pain had come back as soon as the morphine wore off, but he managed to sleep through the worst part of it, and today it had dissipated to the normal dull ache.

When he heard footsteps, he glanced up. "Miss me already?" he said to Chase.