08x21 - Holding On

[bunniefuu]

House: Come on in.

Wilson: I'm not doing any more chemo.

House: (coming back to his front door) Good plan. You'll be dead in five months.

Wilson: We went for a cure. It didn't work. I've thought about this a lot. Five more months on this earth is reasonable. A year in the hospital in excruciating pain is… not.

House: With two weeks on, two weeks off of chemo, you'll have way more than a year, maybe two or three.

Wilson: House… I'm sorry.

House: I'm not gonna let you just die.

OPENING CREDITS

Foreman: Hey. You know, management research shows that the best ideas come from casual contact. (House stops and turns toward Foreman) So… (He gives House a large envelope which reads “Hockey Season Starts Now”) one set of season tickets. Got the seat next to you.

House: (opening the envelope) First game is October 8th. That's about one month after Wilson's expiration date. This isn't an unstructured collaboration. You're trying to be the new Wilson.

Foreman: I'm trying to show you there are other people who care about you.

House: Relax. I'm probably not gonna fall apart. (Foreman leaves)

[Cut to a computer monitor playing a video of a group of college cheerleaders practicing a routine]

Cheerleader on the video: Five, six, seven, eight. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight. Here we go. Cradle! One, two, three, four—

[The camera pans back to reveal Park, Taub and Adams watching the video. They don’t look up when House enters the diagnostics conference room]

House: (dumping his backpack on a chair) Put down the pom-poms. Step away from the computer.

[On the video, one of the female cheerleaders falls when a male cheerleader (the POTW) fails to catch her]

House: 46-year-old oncologist refuses treatment.

Adams: Foreman already gave us a case. Wants us to keep things as normal as possible, for as long as possible.

House: Wilson is dying. Chase is gone. How close to normal do you think we can come?

Taub: 19-year-old cheerleader admitted with massive nosebleed and dizziness.

House: Wow. Cool. I just completely forgot that my best friend is dying. Wait. That just reminded me.

Park: Head CT is clean.

House: How can we turn Wilson from a terminal idiot into an interminable pain in the ass?

Taub: Mini-stroke could explain our patient's neurosymptoms and his butterfingers.

Adams: But not his bloody nose.

House: My best friend is trying to k*ll himself.

Adams: He just wants to die with a little dignity.

House: There's no such thing.

[House picks up his backpack and heads toward his office]

Adams: It's not your choice, House. Your only choice here is between acceptance and misery.

[House stops for a moment, considering what Adams has just said]

House: It's a midline granuloma. Get your patient a PET scan.

[Cut to Radiology, where Park and Taub are performing the PET scan on Derrick]

Taub: No lesions along the optic track? (he notices that Park is looking at scans she has already seen) You already covered that.

Park: Maybe we should get someone else to take this case.

Taub: Why? Because someone somewhere is dying? (looking at the monitor) Oh, crap, turn off the mic!

Park: It is off.

Taub: Not according to his brain. (indicating the monitor) His temporal lobe is completely lit up. Auditory portion. He's hearing something.


House: Foreman's trying to date me. I assume that's because you called him.

Wilson: No, I — did you… (slurred) put something in my coffee?

[House rolls the IV pole up beside Wilson]

House: You know how you can be there for me five months from now? Don't be dead five months from now.

[Wilson is looking a bit wobbly. He finally passes out, his head falling down onto his desktop. House inserts an IV needle into Wilson’s hand and hooks it up to the plastic IV tubing. A bottle of white liquid hangs from the IV pole. House activates the drip, then sits down to wait, a magazine in hand]

[There is a knock at the door and Taub sticks his head in the door. Adams and Park stand behind him]

Taub: Hey, Wils— (surveying the scene) seriously?

[Taub, Adams, and Park enter the office]

House: Just a little picker-downer. I assume this unwanted interruption means you're looking for me to discuss the latest development in the case I don't want to discuss.

Taub: Our patient is hearing voices.

Adams: He denies it, but the PET scan says otherwise.

Park: He's at the right age for the onset of schizophrenia.

House: Yeah. You really need me. Ultrasound his abdomen to check for schizophrenia.

Taub: We already ordered a psych evaluation, but dr*gs could also cause—

Adams: Tox screen was clean.

House: Ultrasound his dorm.

[Cut to Taub and Adams entering Derrick’s dorm room. The room is filled with smoke. Derrick’s roommate lies on his bed smoking dope from a bong]

Roommate: (coughing) Whoa, just… You guys can't just come busting in here without a warrant.

Taub: We're not cops. We're your roommate's doctors. Any idea what flavor of dr*gs would be making your roommate sick?

Roommate: Objection. Entrapment. I'm pre-law. Derrick doesn't party.

[Taub waves away the smoke. Adams has begun searching Derrick’s side of the room, which is considerably neater than his roommate’s]

Adams: (pulling a photo of a young boy in a bathing suit out of a drawer) Look at this. Why would he have a picture of a little boy?

Taub: Maybe it's his nephew or something?

Adams: Hidden in his sock drawer?

Roommate: Whoa! Creepy. (He chuckles)

[Cut to Derrick’s hospital room. Derrick’s girlfriend Courtney is visiting. Taub and Adams enter the room]

Adams: We need to talk to Derrick about some medical matters.

Derrick: Well, she's my girlfriend. She can be here for that.

[Taub clears his throat and looks at Adams]

Adams: We found this… (pulling the photo out of her pocket) in your dorm room.

Courtney: (taking the photo) Who is that?

Derrick: Nobody.

Adams: Then why was it hidden in a drawer?

Courtney: Derrick, what's she talking about?

Derrick: It's my brother Christopher.

Courtney: You never told me you had a brother.

Derrick: Well, he's been dead almost ten years, so…

Adams: Is that the voice you hear in your head?

[Cut to Wilson gaining consciousness. He is lying on the couch, but the IV line is out of his hand. House now sits at Wilson’s desk reading a book]

Wilson: (groaning) Mm… Uhh!

House: And lo, he is risen.

Wilson: (pointing to the IV pole) So now my hair's gonna fall out next week?

House: No. All I did was temporarily k*ll you. How was it?

Wilson: What — I don't — I wasn't dead, I was unconscious.

House: No dreams, no thoughts. You experienced nothing. Now, imagine that without the waking up on the couch part. Just nothing times infinity.

Wilson: You didn't just prove death is nothing. You proved Propofol is.

House: You're saying the end is not the end? I was expecting "nothing is better than something lousy," but not "the angels are waiting for me."

Wilson: I'm not having this conversation.

House: Why? 'Cause it doesn't make sense?

Wilson: Because I'm not gonna change your mind, and I don't care. More importantly, you're not gonna change mine.

[Frustrated, House gets up and walks around to where Wilson is sitting]

House: There is no heaven. There is no hell. Your soul is not gonna float out of your body and join some great unifying energy force. The fact that you're dying is not gonna change that.

Wilson: (pointing to the door) Please… just go.

[Wilson reclines back on the couch, crosses his legs and covers his face with his hand. He stops House before he leaves]

Wilson: House. I have spent the last 20 years holding the hands of people as they die. When I watch that transformation… I'm sorry, I… don't believe that we're just a bag of chemicals.

**

[Cut to the team sitting around the conference table. In the background, House sits at his desk, working on a laptop]

Park: So are we gonna talk about the patient or wait for House?

Taub: Viral encephalitis.

Park: It's been going on for ten years. I'm gonna go in there and invite him to participate. I think he'd welcome the distraction. (to Adams) Come with me?

[Park and Adams get up from the table]

Taub: Why? When was the last time House listened to anything we said about anything personal? Maybe you'll feel better, but sometimes the truth is there's nothing anyone can do.

Taub: (getting back to the case) Temporal lobe epilepsy. Causes voices, dizziness. Trauma from seizure would explain the nosebleed.

[Taub heads out. Park and Adams prepare to follow without talking to House]

[Cut to Derrick’s hospital room. He and Courtney are arguing]

Courtney: You know about all of my siblings and cousins and aunts and uncles and—

Derrick: You're overreacting.

Courtney: Because you don't trust me enough to tell me—

[Taub and Adams enter the room]

Taub: (interrupting) Sorry. It's time to go down for your test.

Adams: If you wanna wait here, it'll only take about an hour.

Derrick: No. She's leaving.

Courtney: Derrick, come on. I mean, we should at least talk.

Derrick: No, I'd rather you just leave. And you don't need to come back.

[Courtney grabs her purse and leaves]

[Cut to Derrick lying under a flashing light. He has sensors attached to his temple. Adams can be seen behind the glass window of a control room]

Adams: (into the mic) Time. Any odd tastes or smells?

Derrick: Nope. Feel fine.

Adams: (coming into the room with Derrick) Things look fine on my end too. (as she removes the sensor wires) So… you won't admit to your doctors that you're hearing your brother's voice, which is dangerous. And now you lost your girlfriend over it, which is stupid. I assume there's more to the story?

Derrick: That's how I was raised.

Adams: Short story.

Derrick: (laughs) Yeah.

Adams: The boss is losing his best friend to cancer. And instead of talking about the pain, he's pretending there is no pain because everything can be fixed.

Derrick: My father tried to deal with it. Ironic that he'd drink himself into oblivion after my brother was k*lled by a drunk driver.

[Derrick rubs at his right eye and leans forward]

Adams: Do you need a tissue?

Derrick: (shaking his head) After dad left, my mom moved us away. She got rid of all the pictures of Christopher and never mentioned him again. It was like he never existed. And that worked for us.

Adams: And yet, you kept one.

Derrick: Uh, my right eye… I was seeing spots, but now I can't see at all. Is that from the test?

Adams: (pulling up his eyelid to look into his eye) No. This is something else.

[Adams holds Derrick’s head steady with her right hand while rubbing his right eye rapidly with her left thumb]

Derrick: Aah! That hurts.

Adams: Sorry.

[She covers his left eye and holds up two fingers]

Adams: How many fingers?

Derrick: Two. Fuzzy ones, but two.

Adams: There's a clot in the artery behind your eye. I just broke it up.

[She examines his right eye with a lighted scope]

Derrick: Is that bad?

Adams: Don't know, because I don't know why it happened.

[Cut to a crowded PPTH cafeteria. Wilson comes off the line with his lunch and stands looking for an empty table]

House: (from behind him) Hey. Saved us a table.

Wilson: There are no tables.

[Wilson follows House through the cafeteria]

House: I recently hacked into your old files. Found a six-year-old boy with bilateral retinoblastoma. Doctors wanted to take his eyes out before the cancer spread to his brain, and you fought them. Advocated for a new photon beam radiation. Saved the kid's vision. Probably saved his life.

Wilson: That was my first case at PPTH. Mikey Kimble.

Michael: (speaking up from a nearby booth) It's Michael now.

House: Oh, yeah. This is our table.

[House slides into the booth beside Michael. Wilson sits across from them]

Wilson: Wow.

[Wilson reaches across the booth to shake Michael’s hand]

Wilson: I… (stammering) How are you?

Michael: I'm doing great. I'm graduating next month.

Wilson: Already? Little Mikey?

Michael: And I got accepted to Princeton. And I'm planning on going to med school.

Wilson: Oh… (laughing)

House: (breaking the light mood with a stern look) He's going to be a doctor instead of being dead.

Michael: Dr. House told me all about your situation. That's why I came. There's just so much good that you can do, even in a small amount of time.

[Wilson is beginning to realize that he has been setup]

House: I wonder… (loudly, to the whole cafeteria) Hey! Is there anybody else here who's alive today because of Dr. James Wilson?

[Wilson watches as a number of people stand up]

Elderly Woman: Gastric adenocarcinoma. 15 years in remission. Six grandchildren that I never would have met. Thank you, Dr. Wilson.

[Wilson smiles]

Middle Aged Man: Squamous cell lung cancer. 12 years in remission. I was able to walk my daughter down the aisle last May. Thank you, Dr. Wilson.

[Wilson gets a standing ovation from the entire cafeteria, be he realizes that House is trying to manipulate him into continuing the chemo treatments]

House: I did the math. 74 children are alive today because of you. 14 grandchildren.

Wilson: Mikey Kimble started kindergarten before the age cutoff. He would have graduated high school last year.

[House knows he’s been caught]

Michael: (trying to cover) I flunked a year?

Wilson: (to the entire cafeteria) Was anybody in this room really a patient of mine?

[All of the standing people shake and bow their heads]

House: They're somewhere. They're giving you a standing "O" somewhere. They exist. You saved their lives.

[Wilson grabs his cup and his plate and heads toward the exit]

House: (calling out as Wilson leaves) Its actually more impressive that they're too busy to be here.

[Cut to Taub tossing a letter onto Foreman’s desk]

Foreman: What's this?

Taub: A glowing letter of recommendation you just wrote for me on my laptop. I notice it's lacking your signature at the bottom.

Foreman: Don't you think you're being a bit premature predicting House's demise?

Taub: Not demise. Just implosion.

Foreman: He's going through a rough time, but so far, he's been handling it—

[They both pause. They hear gurgling water and look to see dirty water seeping from under the bathroom door. It flows into the room and across the floor]

[Cut to House heading across the main lobby toward the front doors. Foreman calls to him as he enters the lobby]

Foreman: House.

House: Your shoes are wet.

Foreman: Glad to see your emotional turmoil hasn't dulled your powers of observation. I know you're responsible.

House: No, you don't. 'Cause I didn't do it. Whatever it is. But if I had shoved those season tickets down some toilets, I would have done it because you asked me to. You wanted to replace Wilson. I prank Wilson all the time. Enjoy. (House leaves the hospital)

**

Wilson: (indicating the empty bottles) I got you three, but I drank them.

Thirteen: You didn't have to call me, but I appreciate I made the list.

Wilson: It wasn't entirely unselfish. I didn't feel right approaching any of my terminal patients, but… what is it like?

Thirteen: Hmm…

Wilson: Does it ever stop being surreal?

Thirteen: It'll stop, in about… five or six months, give or take, in your case.

Wilson: (chuckling) You know what happened to me today? One of my patients suddenly started crying.

Thirteen: It can't be your first.

Wilson: The first one… who was crying for me.

Thirteen: It's the human response. It's either overly saccharine, because giving sympathy makes them feel better, or they ignore you, because hiding from mortality makes them feel better.

Wilson: Why can't they just say something that makes me feel better?

Thirteen: Like what, exactly?

[She laughs as Wilson tries to come up with something]

Thirteen: You'd be doing what, two weeks on, two weeks off? So maybe do your first round, see how it goes. Maybe not as horrible, as you fear. Then do the second round, enjoy your two weeks off, and revisit the decision. Rinse, repeat.

Wilson: I just can't envision spending my remaining time in a chemo suite in Princeton. I want to… enjoy myself with family and friends.

Thirteen: Friends or friend?

House: Hi, this is Greg House. Again. Third message, hopefully indicating how much I want you to call me back. I'd say that your son is dying to increase the urgency, but you probably already know that. (he ends the call) The fake people who care that Wilson stays alive didn't work, so I need the real people who care about him to tell him what an idiot he's being.

Adams: Where are we going?

House: I just got paged to go to the bathroom. I don't know where the rest of you are going.

Adams: Some of our patient's symptoms might be physiological, and some might be psychological.

Taub: You think being forced to bury painful memories is making symptoms worse?

[House pockets his phone and takes out his Vicodin bottle]

Park: Grief avoidance can lead to all sorts of anxiety disorders, which can manifest into physical illness.

[They stop walking just long enough for House to take a Vicodin tablet]

House: (pocketing the pill bottle and continuing down the hall) Let's assume… that all his symptoms are real symptoms.

Adams: we're going to avoid grief avoidance?

Taub: Studies after September 11th showed that repression was actually better for coping than dwelling in misery. What about polycythemia vera?

Adams: RBCs are slightly elevated, but not that much.

Taub: Hodgkin's lymphoma?

Park: Would have showed up in the PET scan.

[They stop in front of a mensroom door. House leans against the wall facing the bathroom. He pulls his cellphone out of his pocket]

Adams: What if your guy got hurt at practice? And, like everything else, just didn't tell anyone. Could have set off DIC, would explain everything.

Taub: (motioning toward the bathroom) I thought you had to go to the bathroom.

House: I didn't say I had to go in.

[The door of the bathroom opens and a janitor rushes out and down the hall]

Janitor: Need some more mops in here!

[Through the open bathroom door, we can see the water is running in the sinks and they are overflowing onto the floor]

[Cut to Derrick lying on his side. Park is preparing to perform a lumbar puncture on Derrick]

Derrick: What exactly are you looking for?

Park: Blood. If your spinal fluid is yellow instead of clear, it means you've had a subarachnoid hemorrhage. (she injects the anesthesia) What does your brother say to you? Does he tell you you're gonna be okay?

Derrick: Doesn't really work like that.

Park: I think you hear your brother's voice for a reason.

Derrick: Thought you guys said that I hear things because I'm sick.

Park: Yes. But that doesn't explain why you don't hear a different voice. I think your mom didn't let you deal with the grief of losing your brother properly. There are people here who could help you with that.

Park: (preparing to insert the needle) Okay.

[Park inserts the lumbar puncture needle. Derrick grimaces in pain]

Park: The opening pressure's way too high.

[Cut to House sitting on a bench outside the chemotherapy suite. He fiddles with his phone as he watches a young, bald cancer patient receiving his chemo meds. The door to the Oncology wing slides opens and Thirteen enters]

Thirteen: (spreading her arms wide) The prodigal daughter returns.

House: You taking me up on my offer to off you? Think I've still got some leftover propofol.

Thirteen: (sitting down beside House) Spoke to Wilson.

House: He's angry because I want him to live longer. Who wouldn't be?

Thirteen: Friends respect each other's decisions, even if they don't agree with them. It's called loyalty.

House: Loyalty is a tool to get people to do things they don't wanna do.

Thirteen: But you do want to. You may have rationalized it a hundred different ways, but the fact is, you fired me so that I'd be forced to spend the rest of my life doing exactly what I wanted to do. It was probably the most… selfless thing anyone has ever done for me. And you don't even like me that much.

[Cut to Wilson sitting at his empty desk, tapping his finger on the desktop. His office door opens and a white handkerchief attached to the tip of House’s cane waves in the doorway]

House: I surrender. (entering the office) I have been a disloyal… disrespectful jerk. I should have listened to what you wanted.

Wilson: I'm still not letting my parents return your call.

House: (sitting down across from Wilson) I made a reservation for two at Carmine's. Tonight. 8:00. No more tricks. No more manipulations.

Wilson: Said Machiavelli.

House: Just… two friends enjoying the time they have left.

Wilson: Please, don't—

House: I'm not. I promise.

Wilson: Just dinner?

House: That depends on how much you have to drink.

Wilson: That sounds nice.

**

Derrick: Mom.

Molly: I came as soon as I got your message. Is he gonna be okay?

Adams: We're hoping it's just excess fluid on his brain from an extreme migraine, which isn't good, but it's treatable. He's scheduled to get an MRI as soon as these meds start taking effect.

Adams: We found that picture in his dorm room. I'm not sure what Derrick's told you, but… he's been hearing Christopher's voice for the last ten years. And it's possible that repressing all that grief he's felt is actually causing some of Derrick's symptoms.

Derrick: I don't even know if this voice in my head is something I invented or if it's what Christopher was really like. With no photos, no video… my memories… I really don't have any anymore. Maybe you could just… tell me a little bit about him?

Molly: (deflecting) I'm sorry. It was a long drive in. I'm gonna go get a coffee.

Derrick: Okay.

[Cut to House and Wilson having dinner together at Carmines]

Wilson: (laughing) 79-years old, and you told her she was pregnant.

[They both chuckle]

House: Well, it cured her hiccups.

[Wilson laughs]

House: I didn't expect her to cry for quite so long.

[The both laugh again, appearing to really enjoy each others company]

House: (spotting the waiter as he approaches their table) Now, I know that the tiramisu is great here, but I actually ordered off-menu.

[The waiter sets a covered dish on the table. He removes the cover, revealing a plate of Oreo cookies]

Wilson: (chuckling) Great. (picking up a cookie) I told you, you didn't hang the bear bag high enough.

House: (following Wilson’s lead and picking up a cookie) It was a smart bear. I'm almost certain he untied my knots.

Wilson: Well, he wasn't that smart. He left the Oreos behind.

House: You hiked for 32 miles eating nothing but creamy filling.

Wilson: The black stuff is overrated.

House: (toasting with their Oreos) To climbing the hill.

Wilson: (thinking) Okay. If I did decide to… stick around a little longer—

House: Don't do that to me Wilson.

Wilson: No, I'm not, I'm just — I do feel pretty good and I… Maybe I should try it for a little while.

House: (carefully) I… I think that's reasonable. (He takes a sip of coffee)

Wilson: Are you c-conning me? You're conning me.

House: Wha— just because you folded, that means it must be some evil plan?

Wilson: Well, that's usually how it works with you. You drown me in nostalgia so I'll think about our friendship and feel some kind of loyalty and agree to more chemo!

House: That was real nostalgia. It was real emotion, a real decision.

Wilson: A decision that I just made for you! (he sighs)

House: I need you, okay? I want you to be around as long as possible. 'Cause I don't know what I'm gonna do without you.

Wilson: (angrily) No. No. (getting up) Don't do that. I don't owe you anything. Our entire relationship has been about you. My dying is about me.

[Wilson leaves]

[Cut to Wilson crying. He is sitting in his car outside the restaurant. House approaches, peeks in the passenger side window, then opens the door and gets into the car, closing the door behind him. Wilson sits there, with tears on his cheeks, looking extremely angry]

House: Look at you. You don't wanna die.

Wilson: (through clenched teeth) Of course, I don't wanna die!

House: Well, then fight.

Wilson: (very angry) I did! I tried.

House: One time.

Wilson: House, get out of my car.

House: You don't have to just accept this.

Wilson: Yes, I do have to accept this. I have five months to live, and you're making me go through this ALONE! (he sobs) I'm pissed because I'm dying, and it's not fair. And I need… I need a friend. I need to know that you're there. I need—I need you to tell me that my life… was worthwhile, and I… I need you to tell me that you love me.

House: (with tears in his eyes) No. I'm not gonna tell you that unless you fight.

[House gets out and limps away from the car]

[Cut to Derrick undergoing the MRI scan. Park and Adams are in the control room]

Park: Blood vessels are nonreactive. It's not a migraine.

Derrick: I'm not feeling so great. How much longer?

Park: (turning on the mic) Finishing up.

[Park goes to the MRI and pushes the button which roles the table out of the machine. When Derrick is out of the machine he mistakes Park for Adams]

Derrick: (to Park) Thank you, Dr. Adams.

[Park wipes at her face as water starts to drip from the ceiling. A groaning, rumbling sound is heard from above]

Park: (looking up) It looks like the ceiling might….

[The ceiling collapses in on the three of them. Derrick curls up in a ball and covers his face with his hands. Park and Adams huddle together over Derrick as plasterboard and water rain down all around them]

**

[Cut to a fireman opening the door of a fire truck. Sirens are heard in the background. The camera follows a hose inside the hospital where emergency workers are hauling out the debris from the collapse. House wanders into the scene. He ducks under some yellow police tape and finds Taub treating Adams and Park in the ER. The lighting is very low. The hospital appears to be running on power supplied by emergency generators]

Taub: What are you doing back here?

House: We got a case. Assume the status is, patient's getting worse. You guys are confused.

Adams: You think actually showing up for work is enough to make up for ruining an MRI, endangering the patient, injuring us?

House: I got an airtight alibi, that I'm working on.

Taub: This isn't about the damage. You're back because something's going on with Wilson.

House: I'm done with Wilson.

Taub: What does that mean, you're done with Wilson? If he's not dead, you're not done with Wilson.

Adams: You suddenly think you're gonna make a difference?

Taub: You can't just abandon him.

House: It's in his hands now. Get any good pictures before the MRI drowned?

Park: Enough to know it wasn't a migraine. And the patient mistook me for Adams.

[House has his epiphany. He opens the drawer of a supply cabinet and takes out a syringe]

House: (motioning toward the team) Come with me.

[Cut to House entering Derrick’s room, the team follows behind]

House: (to Derrick) Hey.

[House tosses his cane back to Taub and opens up the syringe packaging]

House: So what do you think's gonna happen when I stick a needle into his eardrum?

Taub: You quizzing us?

House: Oh, this is a good quiz.

[House pushes Derrick’s head back on the pillow and turns his head sideways]

Adams: He'll scream in pain.

House: Don't listen to her. Very small needle, very steady hand.

Derrick: (grimacing as House inserts the needle) Ah!

House: Now, when I pull back on the plunger, what do you think's gonna come out?

Park: Air.

[House pulls back on the plunger, then holds up the syringe, which is full of blood]

House: Boy, that air sure is red. Persistent stapedial artery. It should disappear in the embryonic stage, but just like his dead brother, he really can't let go. An artery's been pressing against the temporal lobe of his brain, right above the ear canal. It explains the voices, the dizziness, everything. Now you guys can explain how we're gonna make him better.

[House turns, taking his cane from Taub and handing him the syringe. He then turns and walks out of the room. Taub follows House into the hallway]

Derrick: (to Park and Adams) Will my brother's voice go away?

[Cut to Taub trying to catch up with House in the hall]

Taub: You're being an ass.

House: (continuing to walk down the hallway) I just cured a patient. How 'bout you?

Taub: You can't just give up on Wilson. You know he needs you. You know he's making an impossible choice. He just doesn’t want to live in pain.

[House stops suddenly and turns angrily on Taub]

House: (shouting) Life is pain! I wake up every morning, I'm in pain. I go to work in pain. You know how many times I wanted to just give up? How many times I thought about ending it?

[House leaves Taub and pushes through two double doors]

[Cut to the next morning. Park sits on a bench by the fourth floor elevator. The elevator bell chimes and House steps off the elevator and heads toward his office]

House: You here to yell at me or give me hockey tickets?

Park: Had to delay the surgery because our patient drank ammonia from the janitor's cart. I guess… he didn't want to live without his brother's voice.

[House turns and heads back they way he came, turning down another hallway. Park follows after him]

Park: Where are you going?

[House enters Derrick’s room, waking Derrick and startling his mother, who is sitting in a chair on the far side of the bed. House throws both his cane and backpack aside. Gripping his bad leg, he approaches Derrick]

House: You can't wait to die?

[House pushes Derrick back on the bed, pulls some IV tubing loose, and wraps it around Derrick’s neck]

House: Here, let me help you.

Jen: (rising from her chair) Hey!

Park: (grabbing at House’s arm) House!

Jen: (pulling on House’s arm) Hey!

Park: House!

[Derrick struggles against the tubing and House’s hands around his neck]

House: See? You wanna live!

[Jen and Park continue to try and pull House off of Derrick]

Jen: He did something stupid. He's not gonna do it again.

House: You're resisting me because it's our human responsibility to stay alive!

[Derrick tries to push House off]

Park: (ineffectually tugging at House) You made your point, House! Stop!

[There is a loud thwack as Park hits House on the back of his head with his own cane]

[House releases Derrick, who lays there gasping for air. House feels the back of his head with his hand. He is bleeding]

Park: (still brandishing the cane) You've spent your whole life looking for the truth. But sometimes the truth just sucks.

**

[Cut to Wilson and Foreman sitting across from each other in the lounge area of Foreman’s office]

Wilson: I'm, uh… I'm gonna be leaving, uh, quite a bit earlier then we had talked about. The… next day or two.

Foreman: What happened? Something between you and House?

Wilson: (firmly) He's not my child. I cannot be responsible for the happiness of Gregory House.

Foreman: Well, uh… I'll get these to Frankel.

Wilson: Okay. Thank you. (he gets up to leave)

Foreman: You are responsible. The past 20 years you've had three wives, hundreds of colleagues, thousands of patients. But you've kept that one best friend.

Wilson: He wants me to suffer a misery, that I don't want to go through.

Foreman: Chemo won’t make your life any better, but caring will. Enduring pain to do some good for someone you care about… Isn’t that what life is?

[Cut back to House’s apartment. House sits at his piano playing the simple yet melancholy tune]

[Back to Wilson. He gets up from the table, takes a wine glass off a shelf, then opens a cabinet door and takes out a bottle of wine. He pauses as he spots a package of Oreo cookies on a shelf]

[Cut to Jen sitting in a chair in Derrick’s darkened hospital room. Derrick has been sleeping, but now he wakes. House’s music still plays in the background]

Derrick: Mom?

Jen: (getting up and approaching the bed) Yeah?

Derrick: That picture of Christopher that I had on the stand. Did you take it?

Jen: Yes.

Derrick: Did you throw it out? (Jen shakes her head) If I agree to get the surgery, can you bring that picture back? (Jen takes her son’s hand in hers)

[As the music continues, the camera cuts to the OR. Taub is performing the needed surgery on Derrick. Adams and Park assist]

[Cut back to House at the piano. There is a knock at door. House continues playing]

House: (loudly) Not home.

Wilson: House.

[House looks up and stops playing when he hears Wilson’s voice. He opens his door to Wilson]

Wilson: (standing in the doorway) I'm ready to start the next round of chemo.

House: Why?

Wilson: Because you need me and… I don't think that's a bad thing anymore.

House: No. You're the only one I listen to. The last couple of days, I didn't, and I almost k*lled my patient. So I think it's time for me to accept that… you're just smarter than I am.

Wilson: (shaking his head) Are you really okay that there's only five months left?

House: No. But it's better than nothing.

Wilson: Um… How do we start?

House: I'm not gonna say "I love you."

Wilson: (entering the apartment) Thank God. You got any Oreos?

Jen: (covering his hand with her own) Hey. How are you feeling?

Derrick: The surgery worked.

Jen: How can you tell?

Derrick: 'Cause Christopher's gone.

[Derrick continues to look through the photos. He smiles through his tears when he finds one that includes himself, his brother and his mother]

[Cut to House and Wilson sitting behind Wilson’s desk. They are looking at something on Wilson’s laptop]

Wilson: (pointing) And this is the peak. Almost 8,000 feet.

House: You do realize that my leg situation has deteriorated a little since the last time we went hiking.

Wilson: Just add another day.
[There is a knock at door. Foreman enters, then steps aside, allowing another man to enter behind him]

Foreman: This is Matt Johnson, the hospital lawyer.

House: Yes. I have decided not to proceed with the sexual harassment case.

Matt: (holding a large plastic bag full of the tickets which Foreman gave House) Are these yours? The plumber retrieved them from the hospital outflow pipe. They caused a sewage backup that ruined the MRI, and they have your name on them.

House: Gregory Danger House. It's… a very common name.

Matt: These apparently have your fingerprints on them also.

House: (standing up) Why don't you tell me how many hours of picking up trash you want me to do.

[The music has stopped]

Foreman: House… I tried to keep this internal. The fire department handed the tickets to the police who contacted your parole officer. It's felony vandalism.
He's gonna revoke your parole. There's nothing we can do.

Matt: You have to report to Mercer County Jail on Monday to serve out the rest of your sentence.

House: And that's… that's how long?

Foreman: I'm sorry.

House: How long?

Foreman: Six months.