Chase had come downstairs in the middle of the night to find the tv still on. He stopped and stared sleepily at the bright screen, squinting as his half-asleep brain tried to comprehend the scene before him. He could barely make out that it was an episode of House MD, but the volume was too low for him to pick up on any of the dialogue. It was still familiar to him though, as there was one person he knew likely to watch it at this hour.

He moved forward and turned to look. Sure enough, there was Schneeplestein, slumped over on his side and taking up the majority of the cushions. His jacket was half off, and one arm hung lazily as he softly snored. Even his mask was draped on the edge of the coffee table, next to an empty bottle of their Japanese whiskey. Chase wrinkled his nose sympathetically. Poor doc, must have had another late operation. I knew I shouldn't have put my head down... He turned and quietly retraced his steps, returning downstairs when he had obtained a dark gray blanket from his bedroom. Calmly and with experienced care, he unfurled the blanket and let it drift over the slumbering form, covering the exhausted doctor as he had done many times before. Henrik hardly even reacted, making only a slight mumble as he remained asleep. Chase removed the crooked glasses carefully from his relaxed demeanor, but when he turned to set them down on the table a hand pressed against the back of his knee, making him jump.

"Chase...?" Chase sighed and looked down, giving a contrite smile.

"Sorry doc, didn't mean to wake ya," he apologized. Schneeplestein grumbled hoarse syllables and used the bro's leg to pull himself up.

"I'z fine, I vasn' asleep," he slurred, teetering as he shook his head. Chase frowned.

"Henrik, I thought I was suppose to be the one with a drinking problem. What gives?" The doctor fell quiet for a few seconds, still holding on to Chase. And then the fatherly ego noticed the tremors that shook his best friend's clenched fist. When he realized, his expression fell. "Oh... Oh, doc, I'm so sorry..." No sooner had Chase turned and took a seat beside Schneeplestein than did the doctor whimper and press his face into his dark gray shirt. Chase put his arms around the poor man and held him close, heart aching sympathetically as he tried to offer comfort. Within seconds, the proud doctor had collapsed into a sobbing mess, his drunken voice lilting with guilt for the tragedy he'd had to deal with that night.

"An' zen he ven' under!" Henrik weeped, "I tried, try so hard, I tried to save him, bu' I could not...!"

"You did your best," The vlogger promised, putting his hand on the back of Schneeple's head, "And that's all anybody can ever ask of you."

"My ves' vas not good enough!"

"Henrik... You may be the most qualified doctor around, but nobody's perfect," Chase reasoned, "You can't change things beyond your control. Death is a natural thing, not something anybody can or should cure." He gave the doctor another lil hug. "It's just the next stage in life, not the Black Plague. You're not a failure, doc, trust me: I know the feeling. You saved my life, remember?" Schneeplestein sniffled. He put his arms around Chase's waist, hesitantly returning the supportive embrace as he picked his head up and moved it onto the bro's shoulder. Chase gladly adjusted his own arms, allowing Henrik all the space and comfort he needed as he hugged his best friend.

"You give too much credit," the doctor mumbled sluggishly, a bubble of laughter shifting his voice. Chase smiled, hugging a little tighter.

"You don't give yourself enough credit, doc."