Jack nodded and tore a blanket from the bed. Spreading it on the floor only made it bloody, but it allowed him the opportunity to lift House's heavy frame and pull him onto the center.

"I'll take the head. I'll try to bear most of the weight. Let's get to the clinic. They'll be able to patch him up better and the ambulance can take him to the compound when he's stable."

Jack couldn't afford to entertain the idea that House might die. He couldn't commit suicide- he just couldn't. Why would he? Why?

"Let's go..."