Not because of the sympathy he received afterwards; it was nothing so trivial as that, and anyway, he wouldn't want people's sympathy any more than House did. It certainly wasn't because he envied his boss for the weeks off work--recovery from surgery and rehab were nothing to be envious of. He'd like to be able to claim his resentment wasn't for anything so petty, but the truth was it was entirely selfish: he resented the shooting because it took House away from Diagnostics for several weeks right near the end of his own time at PPTH. He'd hoped to have the opportunity to make the most of his final months working with House, and now a whole chunk of that time was lost.

When he'd signed on, three years seemed like plenty of time. He'd do his job, learn from the most brilliant man he'd ever met, and once his fellowship was over he'd move on. Just like that. It had seemed so simple back then. This fellowship was a chance for him to accomplish three things at once: get away from his father, improve his skills as a doctor, and possibly even, considering the prestige attached to the position, make his father proud. One and a half out of three--and even that was being generous; in his darker moments, he couldn't help wondering if House was right and he really was incompetent--wasn't a very good track record, but leaving was the last thing he wanted to do.

Based on the bits and pieces he'd heard over the years, House had never once asked a fellow to stay beyond their three year contract. It would certainly be insanity to expect that to change for him, of all people.

He'd never managed to learn not to hope for something he knew was impossible.

He tried not to let his dread of leaving PPTH show, but he'd never been very good at hiding things from House, either; he figured something bled through his best attempt at an uncaring façade and he'd be called on it as soon as a suitably humiliating moment arose. He was resigned to the idea, but even that couldn't affect his desire to stay.

Realistically, he knew, the best he could hope for was a final case that would be interesting enough to keep his mind off of his imminent departure. Instead, what he got was a coma patient who was so morbidly obese they couldn't even perform many of the usual tests, and who came out of the coma spontaneously. Without the ability to do even an MRI or a lumbar puncture, they could hardly do anything more than assume the problem had resolved on its own and keep the man for observation just in case. Sure, he'd been in a foul mood all morning--it was his final day, after all, and House hadn't even bothered to show up until practically lunchtime--but he didn't think he'd deserved to be taken off the case. Why was it that Cameron got away with intentionally making procedures more painful than necessary when she didn't approve of their patient for some ridiculous reason, but he couldn't even point out that there was probably no need for tests they couldn't safely perform anyway?

Being told not to take part in what would be his final case working for House was too much. It was his last day at PPTH, and House either didn't know or didn't care. Either way, he clearly didn't want him around. Knowing he wouldn't be coming back in the morning was hard enough without being dismissed so casually; what would be the point of hanging around for several more hours, doing nothing? He might as well go on home--what would they do, fire him? It wasn't as if anyone would miss him anyway.

He should be used to this by now. The brilliant authority figures in his life had never troubled themselves to notice whether he was there or not; indifference was nothing new.

That didn't make it any easier, though.

As he gathered his things from his locker, Chase told himself it didn't matter. It wasn't like he'd wanted a big deal made over it or anything; just...some acknowledgement that he was leaving would've been nice. Some small sign of recognition.

Once he had everything, he took the long route from the staff lounge to the exit. As he passed the empty Diagnostics offices, he paused for one last look around at the place that had become home.