06x09 - Ignorance Is Bliss

[bunniefuu]

[Open on a science bookstore. Ed Beringer is organizing some shelves. James Sidas, a messenger, enters with several boxes on a hand truck. He has a heavy beard and wears a knit cap pulled almost to his eyebrows.]

Sidas: Hey.

Beringer: Hey, I’ll be right there.

Sidas: Take your time. You mind if I get a drink of water?

Beringer: No, not at all. Help yourself.

[Sidas puts the electronic log on the desk and goes to the cooler. He looks at the books on the cart next to him. They have names like “Atoms & Molecules” and “Astrophysial Quantities.” He pulls one off the shelf and looks at it. He puts his cup on the counter as he turns the book over, staring intently.]

Beringer: [approaches and chuckles] Not exactly beach reading, huh?

Sidas: Do you understand any of that stuff?

Beringer: Well, most of these I can get through, But, uh, that one? Can't get past the dust jacket. Where's Ted?

Sidas: Laid off. Company's going with per diem workers. You know, you don't have to pay overtime, health insurance.

Beringer: Wow. that sucks.

Sidas: I don't mind. really, I'm not a 40-hour-a-week kind of guy. [He pauses as if he’s lost his train of thought.] Uh... If I could just get you to sign.

Beringer: Right. um... Hang on one second. I want to show you something. [He chuckles as he goes to get a book off the shelf. Sidas coughs.] You're gonna laugh, but, uh, I swear, this guy James Sidas looks exactly like you. Wait, hang on a second. [He stares at the picture on the book jacket.] This guy is you. [He holds the book in front of Sidas. The picture is of a kid with blond hair. He’s in his late teens or early twenties.] I saw a profile Nova did on you. You're, like, the youngest guy to ever graduate MIT?

Sidas: Standards were lower back then.

Beringer: You got an IQ of 178. Published three books and 35 papers all before the age of 18?

Sidas: Yeah, uh, sorry, I really need to get going. So if I could just get you to sign off.

Beringer: All right. I'll trade you. I'll sign if you'll sign.

Sidas: I'm not that guy anymore.

Beringer: Come on, man. This is the most exciting thing that's happened in this place in years. [Sidas sighs and takes the pen. He starts to sign but his hand shakes. He drops the pen a couple of times. Beringer chuckles.] Come on. Don't be like that. I'm paying you a compliment.

Sidas: It's... It's not that, um... My hand's not working.

Beringer: Hey, hey. Whoa, whoa. You okay?

Sidas: [pulling off his cap and looking around] No.

[Opening Credits]

[Cut to the cafeteria. House tosses a bagel with cream cheese on the counter in front of the cashier.]

Cashier: $2.32.

House: Put it on Dr. Wilson's tab.

Cashier: I don't know who Dr. Wilson is, and we don't have tabs.

House: Do you know who I am?

Cashier: No.

House: Good.

Cashier: But, sir –

Cuddy: [approaching] I got it. It's all right. [She pulls some bills from a pocket in her skirt and gives them to the cashier.]

House: Thanks. Although I should make it clear that for two bucks all you get is top half, over the clothes. Any plans for turkey day?

[They leave the cafeteria and enter the lobby of the hospital.]

Cuddy: Go to my sister's for dinner. Why?

House: Just making pleasant conversation. I've heard tell of folks doing such.

Cuddy: How 'bout we talk about this? [She hands him a blue folder.] 15-year-old. Recurring migraines and blurred vision.

House: Great.

Cuddy: Really?

House: Sure. There's no point in putting a band together if we're not gonna play any gigs.

Cuddy: Hold on. Take this instead. [She swaps the folder she gave him for another one.] I was expecting more resistance.

House: That was the old me. New me is static-guarded and friction-free. [He turns and walks away.] Enjoy your drumstick.

[Cuddy is left looking after him, puzzled.]

[Cut to Diagnostics. Chase, Foreman, Taub and Thirteen are there.]

House: Ready to save some lives? [He throws the file on the table.] 32-year-old courier. Ataxia, anemia, mild cough. CT was clear. Tox screen negative.

Chase: What're you so excited about?

House: Why wouldn't I be? Got all my starters back, plus a couple of first-class free agents. I feel like Mike Tomlin. [He looks at Foreman.] Probably not as much as you do, but you get the idea. [He takes a bite of his bagel.]

Thirteen: Ataxia and anemia could be viral. Maybe West Nile?

House: No fever, lymph glands were normal. Anybody seen Wilson?

Taub: Hyperbilirubinemia?

House: [scoffing as he heads for his office] Yeah, like that's a real thing.

Chase: Meningitis.

House: Anemia's a stretch. [picks up his phone] Page Dr. James Wilson at 558.

Taub: What about sickle cell?

Foreman: Guy's white.

Taub: Whites can get it.

House: Come on. We get the tennis elbow and all the money. Let them have sickle cell.

Foreman: TTP's a better fit.

Thirteen: He's right. [House, Chase and Taub stare at her.] What, you thought I wouldn't agree with him? Ever?

House: You didn't agree with him. That's why he dumped you. Oh, sorry. It was mutual.

Foreman: We're cool, okay? Nobody's angry, nobody's hurt.

House: Sounds passionate.

Chase: [clearing his throat] TTP makes sense to me.

Taub: Not to me. What if he had a history of –

House: One big, happy family. TTP it is. Confirm with a blood smear and adamts13 antibodies.

[The team leaves and House stands there eating his bagel.]

Voice on PA: Dr. James Wilson, please dial 558.

[Cut to Sidas’s room.]

Dara: Can you cure it?

Thirteen: TTP isn't completely curable, but the symptoms are manageable with the proper treatment.

Dara: Is this the treatment?

Thirteen: No, first we need to do a blood test to confirm the diagnosis.

Dara: But he's gonna get better.

Sidas: Honey, that's what she's saying. I'm gonna be okay. Don't worry.

Dara; How can't I worry? You're in the hospital.

Sidas: I'm gonna be fine.

Taub: You're sure everything was fine before? Given your educational background, you'd think you could at least find a job with a medical plan.

Sidas: We have money. Don't worry.

Taub: It's not that, it's just – I want to make sure we have all the information we should.

Dara: My husband wouldn't lie.

Sidas: It's okay, baby. He's just doing his job. He just wants to make sure I’m not a secret drug addict or an alcoholic.

Taub: Or hiding a history of mental illness?

Sidas: I work as a courier because I want to. It's easy. I don't have to think.

Taub: It's too hard to think.

Sidas: No, just unpleasant. No matter what I did, it really wasn't good enough. Then I met Dara. She didn't care how smart I was or what I might accomplish in the future. It was the first time in my life that I was really happy. So I decided I would rather be happy than smart.

[He and Dara look at each other and smile.]

[Cut to a pair of men’s hands. A door opens. It’s Foreman. Chase, whose hands those were, is lying on the couch in the doctors’ lounge.]

Foreman: You all right? Sorry. I know you're not okay. I mean...

Chase: [getting up] She left. Went back to Chicago.

Foreman: Any chance of reconciliation?

Chase: Nope. [He walks away from Foreman and opens the refrigerator, studying the contents.]

Foreman: Sure you don't want to grab a drink after work? Figured we could talk about the perils of dating doctors.

Chase: I wasn't dating Cameron.

Foreman: I'm sorry. I didn't mean to –

Chase: [coming over] I know what you're doing and I appreciate it, but I've got it under control.

Foreman: That's what you said about the Dibala incident. And obviously you didn't.

Chase: And talking about it obviously made things so much better.

[Chase walks out.]

[Cut to the lab. Taub and Thirteen are running tests.]

Taub: Didn't you think there was something weird about that guy?

Thirteen: Not really. In fact, he seemed pretty normal.

Taub: That's my point. Guys with IQs off the chart are usually completely... abnormal.

Thirteen: Speaking of House, why'd you come back? I mean, you must've taken a major pay cut.

Taub: Life's too short to worry about money.

Thirteen: Your wife feel the same way?

Taub: She's happy to cut back on some things... like sex. Why'd you come back?

Thirteen: Why wouldn't I? Like Foreman said, nobody's angry. Nobody's hurt. [looking in the microscope] Schistocytes.

Taub: That means TTP.

Thirteen: Which is what we thought it'd be. Remember? This is a good thing.

Taub: This is an easy thing. And House doesn't take cases that are easy, which means it's not TTP, and he wants to see how long it takes us to catch up to him.

[Cut to the hallway in front of Oncology. House is headed that way. Thirteen and Taub follow him.]

Taub: Schistocytes suggest TTP.

House: [ducking to look through a door then moving on] Good. Now what?

Thirteen: Normally, we'd try plasmapheresis, but the patient has an albumin colloid allergy.

House: So?

Taub: So that means we have to give him a splenectomy.

House: Yes, it does.

[He enters the men’s room. Taub looks at Thirteen and goes in. She looks around, then follows them.]

[In the men’s room, House is checking for feet under the stall doors.]

House: Wilson?

Man in stall: No.

House: Do you know where he is?

Man in stall: Not in here.

Thirteen: You're sure you want us to take out his spleen.

House: Is that what a "splenectomy" is? I thought it was an ice cream treat. Yuck.

Taub: So you do really think he has TTP? You're not just testing us.

House: Yeah, like I have time for games.

Taub: So why did you really take this case?

House: Isn't it obvious? I'm fishing for a dinner invite.

[He walks past them and leaves. As the toilet flushes, they leave too.]

[Cut to the lobby. House is sitting on the bench next to the door, under the wall of plaques honoring benefactors. Wilson enters and goes to the desk for his messages.]

House: Missed you at breakfast this morning. And lunch.

Wilson: I had a dentist appointment.

House: [joining Wilson] You know where Cuddy's sister lives?

[They cross the lobby together.]

Wilson: You see. This is why I don't answer your urgent pages. Because they're not urgent pages.

House: I've decided what I’m gonna do about Cuddy and Lucas. I'm going to break them up.

Wilson: Of course.

House: It's given me a purpose in life, a goal, a raison d’être.

Wilson: Albeit a selfish, mean-spirited, childish raison. [He rings for the elevator.]

House: Ehhhhh. I think of it more as benevolent. There's only two possible outcomes for their relationship. They split, or they stay together forever. If it's split, then the sooner it happens the better for everyone. If it's stay, then my meddling won't matter. [elevator bell dings] In fact, if they survive it, it might even make their bond stronger.

Wilson: [entering the elevator with House] How you manage to elevate your narcissism to beneficence is masterful.

[Cut to the elevator cab.]

House: And I’ve decided to do it at Thanksgiving dinner. Just 'cause I’m sentimental. Dinner is at Cuddy's sister's, which brings us back –

Wilson: House, don't.

House: I fished for an invite. Cuddy wasn't biting, so I'll have to crash.

Wilson: I have no idea where Cuddy's sister lives.

House: Ask and thou shalt receive.

[They leave the elevator and walking down the hall.]

Wilson: You can't honestly think I would help you with this.

House: Not help me, help Cuddy, remember? If you don't get it, I'll be forced to use more nefarious methods.

Wilson: Happy holiday. [leaves]

[Cut to Sidas’s rom. Chase is checking the surgical site.]

Chase: Huh. Looks great.

Dara: So he's all better?

Chase: Probably be on some long-term meds, and he's about ten ounces lighter. Other than that, won't even know it's gone.

Dara: Did you hear that, honey? You're gonna be just fine.

Sidas: When can I get out of here?

Chase: Everything checks out, less than a week.

Sidas: Good, 'cause those boxes aren't gonna deliver colors.

Chase: [frowning] Colors?

Sidas: Green... and orange... and ceiling.

Chase: [checking Sidas’s eyes with a flashlight] Mr. Sidas, do you know where you are?

Sidas: Chewing.

Dara: Jimmy?

[A monitor beeps.]

Sidas: Shirt...

Chase: [to a nurse] He's stroking. Call the cath lab now.

Dara: Oh, my God.

[A nurse puts a mask on Sidas’s face.]

[Cut to Diagnostics. Chase is standing. House is in his office. The rest of the team is at the table.]

Chase: Blood flow's restored. [over his shoulder to House] There appears to be no permanent damage.

House: [spitting a pencil from his mouth into his hand] Good news is it turns out to be an exciting, action-packed thrill ride of a case after all.

Chase: Bad news is we took out his spleen for nothing.

House: [picks up the phone and dials] Thank God he's still got his appendix and tonsils. So what looks like TTP, acts like TTP, tests like TTP, but isn't TTP?

Taub: CNS vasculitis. Explains ataxia, and anemia, maybe the stroke.

Foreman: CT would've picked up something.

House: Hi, I’m Greg House, a friend of your sister, Lisa.

Thirteen: Could be DIC.

House: Lisa Cuddy. Sorry. Wrong number. [hangs up]

Thirteen: [to Taub] You gonna ask?

Taub: I'm sure he's got a perfectly logical explanation.

House: Can't be DIC. No hemorrhaging. And I’m calling all 12 Julia Cuddys within a 100-mile radius.

Taub: [to Thirteen] See? Completely reasonable. [to House] Acquired pancytopenia.

Chase: WBC's normal.

House: [on the phone again] Hey, Julia. You're, uh – you're Lisa's sister, right? You sure? 'Cause you are number 12.

Thirteen: Maybe she got married and changed her name.

Foreman: Otis Campbell.

House: [hanging up] Probably kept her first name.

Foreman: The mnemonic for toxins. O for organophosphates, T for tricyclics, I for insulin…

House” Or as I remember it, "moist place." That's "place" spelled
with two Ls and a silent B.

Thirteen: Except the tox screen was negative.

Chase: Standard tox screen. Unstandard toxins don't show up on it.

House: Well, you two do an unstandard tox screen; you two search his home. Otis Campbell's got to be hiding somewhere.

[Cut to the Sidas’s home. It’s a badly decorated dump.]

Taub: Smartest guy in the world, and this is the best he can do.

Chase: Maybe he's doing what he loves. Delivering boxes was a childhood dream.

Taub: [checking the refrigerator] Soda, processed cheese, marshmallow spread. Nothing in here is capable of going bad.

Chase: [in the bathroom, a few feet from the kitchen] Ibuprofen, eye drops, cough syrup.

Taub: You want to come over for Thanksgiving dinner?

Chase: [sticking his head out of the shower] You never asked me over before. Why now?

Taub: I just never thought of it. But now that we're both on the team...

Chase: And my wife left me?

Taub: Is that a bad reason?

Chase: No. But, uh, I’m okay. On both the food and friends.

Taub: Mice. Leptospirosis could explain the ataxia and the anemia. [He picks up droppings with a tweezers and drops them in a container.]

Chase: But not without a fever.

Taub: You have someone to talk to?

Chase: Yeah.

Taub: Who?

Chase: What, you want names? [shakes head slightly] Look, you lost a friend. I get it. But I’m not Kutner.

Taub: Good, 'cause Kutner never used to come over for dinner.

Chase: [gesturing behind himself] I'm gonna pretend there's something interesting over here so you'll shut up.

[Chase opens a closet and turns on the light. It’s full of notebooks. He take one. Taub joins him, grabs a couple and starts to leaf through one.]

Taub: Actually, there is. He's got sketches of atomic structure. This one's full of math proofs.

Chase: They're all old. Nothing since '96.

Taub: This isn't some homework assignment his parents forced on him. This is passion. Why would he want to stop doing this?

Chase: Marriage destroyed his soul. [He looks down and sees a vent with a loose cover. He kneels, removes it and looks inside. He pulls out a bottle.] Ooh. Or maybe it was just the booze.

[Cut to the clinic. A door opens and a patient comes out, smiling, followed by House.]

Diana: Thank you, doctor, you've been wonderful.

House: As have you, Diana. Be well.

Diana: Thank you.

[Cuddy is at the desk. She looks surprised or, maybe, suspicious.]

Cuddy: You're helping. Voluntarily.

Jeffrey: He's done six already.

House: Figured you might be getting backed up. The holiday season and all.

Cuddy: So which one of us slipped through the wormhole into an alternate dimension?

House: I have always loved to travel. And paint. Lucky number seven.

Cuddy: House... I know you're trying to be nice, but I also know you're doing it because you have an agenda.

House: Wow. Sexy and smart. Lucas is a lucky guy.

Cuddy: The question is, is this a bad agenda or a good one? Either you're trying to screw with me, or you're trying to show me that you've really changed.

House: [pause. exaggerated curiosity] So which is it? I’m dying to know.

Cuddy: What are you doing for Thanksgiving dinner?

[Cut to Wilson’s office. House opens the door and enters. He holds a piece of paper aloft.]

House: Peace in our time. It cost me 45 minutes of clinic duty. [He hands the paper to Wilson.]

Wilson: This is a three-hour drive. Have you considered the possibility that this is a fake address?

House: You think she'd send me to a vacant lot for Thanksgiving dinner?

Wilson: If she's smart.

House: She is. That's why I ran it through motor vehicles. Good as gold.

Wilson: This cannot end well.

House: I don't want it to end well. You should come as my date. You're not gonna want to miss this.

[He leaves.]

[Cut to House’s office. He’s has a tie in each hand and is examining himself in the mirror with each.]

Foreman: The unstandard tox screen was as clean as the standard one.

Taub: But we found vodka stashed away in his place.

Thirteen: What's with the ties?

House: Makes me look adorably non-threatening. Party [brown and orange] or party hearty [white and tan]?

Chase: Liver failure would explain all the symptoms. [House gestures with one tie.] Party.

House: [tossing the white and tan tie and putting the other one on] So guy's a brainiac, and his secret drug of choice is booze? That's kind of pedestrian, don't you think?

Taub: Talk to him. He's a pedestrian guy.

Foreman: With pedestrian alcoholism. Liver biopsy can wait until after Thanksgiving.

House: Yes, assuming the biopsy's gonna tell us exactly what we expect it to tell us, it can wait till after New Year's. On the other hand, Taub and Thirteen can do the liver biopsy today.

Taub: Why us?

House: Juniority. Welcome back.

Chase: What do you want us to do?

House: Same as me. Have a Happy Thanksgiving.

[He leaves.]

[Cut to Sidas’s rom.]

Sidas: I'm not an alcoholic.

Taub: Yes, you just hide vodka around the house for fun.

Sidas: I drink, just not a lot.

Dara: Since when do you drink at all?

Sidas: I have one sh*t when I get home from work, baby, that's it.

Thirteen: So why lie to your wife about it?

Sidas: Because it's not important. What difference does it make?

Dara: That you drink every day by yourself?

Sidas: I have one lousy drink, okay? Have you ever seen me drunk? Ever?

Dara: No, but you've obviously been drinking enough to hurt your liver.

Sidas: My liver is fine.

Thirteen: Hold still.

Taub: [checking the ultrasound and taking the sample] There we go.

Sidas: This test is a waste of time.

[Musical montage to James Taylor’s “Games People Play.” Intercut between House, outside (on the street) and Cuddy and Lucas inside (with friends, having Thanksgiving dinner.)]

[A suburban street. House drives up. He checks the address on the paper.]

[Cuddy is at the table with several other people. Food is passed around. The atmosphere is cheerful. Cuddy stands up, holding a wine bottle, just a Lucas emerges from the kitchen, carrying the turkey.]

Lucas: Ta-dah! Hey.

Cuddy: Want some wine?

[House gets out of the car. He has his cane and a bottle of wine in his hand.]

Lucas: [carving the turkey] All right. Very good. Here, we got this.

[Cuddy eats some. Another woman takes a bite and smiles.]

Woman: String beans?

[House walks toward the house.]

[Cuddy and others at the table share a laugh.]

[House raps on the glass in the front door.]

[Cuddy looks off to the side. A clock shows that it’s a few minutes after 3.]

[A blurry House is seen through the glass of the door as a young woman opens it.]

House: Julia?

House Sitter: No, I’m the house sitter. They're in Hawaii for the week.

[House looks around. The house is dark and unoccupied-looking.]

[Cuddy raises her glass for a toast.]

Cuddy: Happy Thanksgiving.

Lucas: Happy Thanksgiving, you guys.

[House is still in the doorway.]

House Sitter: You must be Dr. House. I was told I should offer you a turkey sandwich.

[He looks away, knowing he’s been had.]

[At the party, Cuddy looks at the clock again.]

[Cut to the hospital. Thirteen enters the lab with two plates of sandwiches.]

Thirteen: Tuna salad. Closest thing they had to turkey.

Taub: Thanks. But I’m hoping I can still get out of here to catch the tail end of dinner with my wife.

Thirteen: Anything?

Taub: No cirrhosis, no scarring, no infection.

Thirteen: Blood panel?

Taub: Elevated albumen: 7.2.

Thirteen: [eating her sandwich] That's it?

Taub: Everything else is fine.

Thirteen: So it was a waste of time.

Taub: Unless… it's not his liver that's elevating his albumen, it's his kidneys.

Thirteen: Renal failure. Explains the anemia. If he developed hyperkalemia, that would explain the ataxia. But the stroke?

Taub: Ischemic encephalopathy.

Thirteen: Nice. Except now we have to stay and test his kidneys. [She hands him his sandwich.]

[Cut to a dark apartment. A man enters and tosses his keys on the table. He turns on a light and sees House slouching in an armchair. The man – Lucas – jumps.]

House: Key under the mat.

Lucas: There's no key under the mat.

House: Oh, right. You need to replace one of your kitchen windows. I helped myself to your wine cellar. [He picks up an almost empty bottle of something.] I'll leave a buck on the way out. You're not right for her.

Lucas: And you are?

House: Less wrong.

Lucas: Ah.

House: Then I started thinking... [long pause while Lucas waits] What was I saying?

Lucas: You were saying it's late, and...

House: She invited me. She didn't know if she should. She was trying to figure out if I really have changed or... if I’m still the same old S.O.B. I've always been. But she always gave me a chance. 832 chances. And I used up every one of them. 832's her limit. Make a note.

Lucas: How 'bout a cup of coffee? [He heads for the kitchen.] It's just instant, but...

[He hears a “clunk” and turns. House has let the bottle drop from his hand onto the floor. He pushes himself to a standing position and wobbles a little.]

House: I'm pathetic. I don't deserve her.

[House lands face first on the couch. The rest of him is on the floor and he starts to roll off the couch.

Lucas: Okay, okay, all right. Uh, here. [Lucas comes over, grabs House under the arms and helps him onto the couch. He exhales loudly. House is draped across his lap.] Maybe you should crash here. It's a sofa bed.

House: I love her.

[Cut to the cafeteria. The team is there.]

Taub: Patient’s liver’s fine. It’s his kidneys that are sh*t. And where the hell is House?

Foreman: He left a message on the machine. He’s not coming in today. So what causes kidney failure?

Thirteen: Rhabdomyolysis.

Taub: No edema. [to Chase] I trust you had a wonderful Thanksgiving?

Chase: I don't remember. So I guess I did. Multiple myeloma.

Foreman: No bone pain.

Taub: You got drunk alone?

Chase: No. That would be a sign that I need to talk to you about this. Polycystic kidney disease?

Thirteen: No UTIs or flank pain.

Chase: Well, what if his cough is more than just a cold?

Thirteen: He hasn't been coughing.

Chase: It's in his history, and we found a new bottle of cough syrup in his medicine cabinet.

Taub: Cough could mean Goodpasture syndrome. Affects kidneys and lungs.

Foreman: Start him on immunosuppressors and dialysis.

Thirteen: We'll do it right after we run it by House.

Foreman: He's not answering his pager. Looks like he's leaving it up to us.

Thirteen: Us, not you.

Taub: And since we don't disagree, you can save your fight for another case.

[Taub, Thirteen and Chase leave.]

[Cut to dialysis treatment room. Sidas is in a chair, being prepped by Chase.]

Sidas: How long do I have to be hooked up for?

Chase: Four to six hours a day until we see an improvement.

Dara: What if you don't?

Chase: Then we keep doing it until he gets a transplant.

Dara: You were sure it was his spleen, and then you were sure it was his liver, which he told you it wasn't, and now you're sure it's his kidneys.

Thirteen: It's definitely his kidneys. We just don't know why it's his kidneys.

[Cut to a hallway. Thirteen walks quickly, trying to catch up with Chase.]

Thirteen: Any word from Cameron?

Chase: Nope.

Thirteen: I started seeing a counselor after my diagnosis. She's really good.

Chase: Why does everyone assume that everyone works in the exact same way?

[They reach the elevators.]

Thirteen: We pretty much do. Our egos want us to think we're all snowflakes, no two alike, but really we all want the same things. Love, forgiveness... chocolate.

Chase: [turning to face her] Well, what I want is for everyone to leave me alone. [elevator bell dings] How do I get that?

[He gets on the elevator. She makes a face as she turns back down the hall.]

[Cut to the hallway outside Wilson’s apartment. House opens the door. His eyelids are at half-mast. He is bent over so far that his face is almost level with the doorknob. He sees Cuddy and opens the door all the way, propping himself up against it. He is obviously hung over.]

Cuddy: What did you say to Lucas last night?

House: I know there were a lot of consonants. [He winces slightly.] I don't remember how I got here, never mind what I said.

Cuddy: Well, I just talked to him. And he said he thought it'd be better if we stopped seeing each other. Said he didn't realize how much there still was between you and me, and he didn't want to get caught in the middle of us.

House: I was drunk. Whatever I said, he can't really –

Cuddy: I've had enough, House. I actually felt bad about scamming you. But then you lived down to my expectations and then some. There is no "us." There never will be.

[He slowly closes the door.]

[Cut to the bathroom. House, miraculously fully recovered, swings open the door. Wilson is using an electric trimmer to trim his sideburns very, very meticulously.]

House: It worked.

Wilson: Please tell me you're talking about a medical procedure.

House: They split up this morning. You're the very first one I've told.

Wilson: And you think she'll start dating you? I'm sure she hates you.

House: But her eyes say, "How will I ever pay you for that tennis lesson?"

Wilson: [sighs] Ah, what a shame.

House: They'll get over it.

Wilson: I meant for you.

House: I'll get over it faster than they do. [laughs slightly] Can't believe that Lucas fell for my "I never say this because it's so personal except that I’m drunk" profession of love. Second-oldest trick in the book.

Wilson: You're right. It's his fault because he's stupid.

House: [pause] He certainly is.

[House leaves. Wilson goes back to perfecting his sideburns.]

[Cut to dialysis treatment room. House slides open the glass door. Chase, Thirteen and Dara are with Sidas.]

House: You're stupid.

Sidas: Well, I’m rubber, and you're glue.

House: He's not pedestrian, he's stupid. At least stupider than he should be. He's a DXM junkie.

Thirteen: Dextromethorphan. As in cough syrup?

House: He wasn't taking it for his cough. It's cheap, available at your corner drug store, and taken in high doses, it's a dumb drug.

Dara: Dumb drug. Well, he obviously hasn't –

House: He's smart compared to you. He's a moron compared to what he was. "Robotripping." Lowers the IQ. It also causes brain damage. Unless taken with the proper amount of ethanol. About one drink per day. He wasn't abusing the booze and taking the cough remedy medicinally. He was abusing the cough meds, and taking the booze medicinally. Bravo.

Dara: Why would you do that? If you had a – a gift, why would you just throw it away?

Sidas: I didn't throw it away. I just turned it down a little. When my brain was on low, everything didn't seem so miserable anymore. Life was bearable.

Dara: I thought that I did that.

Sidas: You do.

House: Long-term abuse of DXM explains all your symptoms. Even – oh, sweet irony – your cough. Whole bowel lavage, activated charcoal. We get all traces of it out of your system. You'll be the unhappiest little courier in no time. [He starts to leave.]

Sidas: I don't think I can live without it.

House: You'd be surprised what you can live without. Make him a genius.

[Cut to Sisas’s room.]

Dara: I can't believe it. He looks so much better already.

Sidas: We were thinking about calling GQ.

Foreman: Lavage has removed all traces of DXM from his body.

Dara: You're drawing again. What is it?

Sidas: Just doodles.

Dara: No, it's not. Come on, Jimmy, I want to know.

Sidas: This is a toroidal helicon plasma device. [pause. She obviously didn’t understand a word he said. He continues, hesitantly.] It determines the amount of energy expended by the subatomic particles. [She tries to smile.] I’m thirsty. Could you get me a juice or something?

Dara: Yeah, of course. I'm so happy, jimmy.

Sidas: I told you. Do you know what the difference between her IQ and mine is? 91 points. [That would make her IQ 87.] In relation, she's closer to a gibbon than she is to me. Having sex with her would be an act of bestiality.

Foreman: I assume you didn't marry her for her skill in applied physics.

Sidas: I just wish she could spell it.

Foreman: You really think you'd be happier with someone who could spell better?

Sidas: No. That's the problem. I’m the one who's a jerk. But I owe her everything. I want to want to be with her. And when I’m clear, I... I can't.

[Cut to the clinic. House is examining a young woman.]

House: Fainting, dizziness, shortness of breath?

Ronnie: Sometimes. Is the wait always this long?

House: Only on days that end in "day." Diarrhea, weight loss?

Ronnie: A bit. Don't you ever shave?

House: Yeah. once a week. How 'bout you? Stomach pain, tenderness?

Ronnie: Every now and then. Are you this rude to all your patients?

House: Oh, yes! Don't think you're special. So we've got a lot of vague, unverifiable symptoms. Yet all the physical signs are perfectly normal.

Ronnie: What do you think I have?

House: I'm not sure, but I think it's... a lame job.

Ronnie: What?

House: You're a rat. Insurance company sends you out to check on the quality of medical care.

Ronnie: That's ridiculous.

House: Is it really? 'Cause you seem a lot more interested in asking questions than answering them. Handwriting on your medical records is obviously not a doctor's 'cause I can almost read it. And when you went out for a urine sample, I looked in your purse. Found the list of questions you were supposed to memorize before you came to the clinic. I was looking for gum.

Ronnnie: You're an ass.

House: Put it in your report. I tell you what. I'll give you 20 bucks if you'll pretend that I’m not when we leave this room.

[She considers his offer.]

[Cut to the exam room door opening. Ronnie is smiling as she leaves. House is right behind her.]

House: Remember, first ice, then heat. If you have any problems, don't hesitate to call me.

Ronnie: Thank you, Dr. House.

[She walks off. House puts her chart on the desk and looks around.]

House: Wait a second. Where's Cuddy?

Jeffrey: Gone for the day.

House: [He sees Ronnie leaving.] Hey, hey, hey! [She runs for the outer door.] Sorry. I can't remember if I've mocked you yet for being a male nurse.

Jeffrey: I think this counts.

House: Fair enough. [He leaves.]

[Cut to a hallway by the pathology wing. Dara is sitting on one of the benches. Foreman approaches.]

Dara: That isn't the man I married.

Foreman: Yes, he is. He's just smarter. Give him some time. I’m sure –

Dara: He hates me.

Foreman: His body is going through withdrawal. He's adjusting.

Dara: Maybe he never loved me. Not really. Maybe we never really had anything at all.

Sidas: [yelling] Somebody help! [Dara and Foreman run to his room.] I can't feel my legs. I can't feel my legs. [Foreman takes out a pen. He taps Sidas’s leg in several places and runs the pen up and down his calf.] Anywhere. Nothing.

[Cut to Taub’s bedroom. Rachel is in bed, reading.]

Taub: We have to talk about this.

Rachel: It's late. I’m tired.

Taub: I know it's a big pay cut, but I'll always have the chance to make money. I won't always have the chance to do this job.

Rachel: [looking up] That's what you think? That it's about the money?

Taub: So it's that I didn't consult you before I took the job?

Rachel: That was offensive, but it's not about that either.

Taub: So then... Can you give me the first letter?

Rachel: [puts down book] When we got married, you were an intern working 30-hour shifts doing grunt work. And we both put up with it because we knew that it was leading to something better. In your private practice, you are the boss. You call the sh*ts. But now you're 40 years old, you're still doing grunt work.

Taub: That's what this is about? You think I’m a wuss?

Rachel: He made you miss Thanksgiving dinner.

[He looks at her. Before he can say anything, his pager goes off. He looks at it, then at Rachel, and sighs.]

[Cut to Diagnostics.]

Thirteen: Vitamin B12 deficiency? Gives us anemia, numbness.

House: Not a stroke.

Thirteen: If he has a vascular malformation – Anemia's not macrocytic.

House: Sorry to inconvenience you. Dying patients can be so thoughtless.

Taub: Don't.

House: Great comeback. Is that Oscar Wilde? Come on, people.

Foreman: Bone marrow malignancy.

House: Wouldn't produce schistocytes.

Taub: Lupus.

House: Gee, thanks for coming in. ANA was negative. [to Chase] What about you? Got any predictable drivel you'd like to add?

Chase: I think they've given you enough already.

House: Well, at least they're trying. They're not just sitting there like roadkill. Give me something. Give me something, or I'll get your ex-smarter half on the phone and ask her.

Foreman: House.

[Chase, who is sitting by the glass wall, smiles slightly to himself. He stands up and walks over to House who looks puzzled. Chase looks at him for a moment then slams him with a punch to the face. House goes down. Chase leaves. House, on the floor, puts his hand on his eye momentarily and shakes his head.]

[Cut to Cuddy’s office. She enters. House is sitting on the couch. He has a bandaid on his nose and his eye is turning interesting colors.]

Cuddy: You're gonna be pressing charges?

House: Against the ottoman I tripped over?

Cuddy: Against Chase.

House: I'm pretty sure the ottoman was acting alone. You free for dinner this weekend?

Cuddy: At least three other people saw him do it.

House: Mass hysteria. Either night?

Cuddy: I can't have doctors punching each other out.

House: Oh, my God, who got punched?

Cuddy: And more importantly, for Chase's sake, I need to know if he's able to handle himself or if I should be getting him some help.

House: Chase couldn't have punched anyone. He was with me when I tripped over the ottoman. If you're not planning on eating this weekend, maybe a movie?

Cuddy: I'm not doing this, House. It's not fun anymore. Just do your job.

[She leaves. He sits, thinking.]

[Cut to Sidas’s room. House slides the door open and enters.]

House: I need your help.

Sidas: What happened to your face?

House: I was mowing the lawn when the phone rang. You're a computer. I’m gonna feed you data, and you analyze it.

Sidas: What, are you gonna feed me 20 years of medical knowledge too? It's not gonna work.

House: I know. But I don't have anyone else to ask.

Sidas: It's lonely, isn't it?

House: It's not that bad.

Sidas: Then you're not that smart. You ever tried to k*ll yourself?

House: Not quickly.

Sidas: I did. 12 years ago I jumped off the top of my eight-story building into a dumpster bin the day before pickup. I broke my collarbone, my leg, and three ribs. When I was in the hospital they put me on narcotics and suddenly everything was just better. I didn't feel isolated or lonely. That's where I met my wife. She was so happy. And dumb. And I was... smart... and miserable. You tell me who the genius is. I fell in love with her buzzed out of my head, and I knew I wanted to stay that way forever.

[House closes the file. He pulls a bottle of DXM from his pocket and hands it to Sidas.]

House: Enjoy.

Sidas: [chuckles] Easier on your conscience if I die an idiot?

House: What's a conscience? [He starts to leave, then turns back.] Which ribs... did you break in the fall? They on the left side?

Sidas: Yeah, bottom three. That was 12 years ago.

[Cut to MRI. Sidas is on the platform. House is injecting him. Taub and Foreman come in, followed by Chase and Thirteen.]

Taub: This probably cost me my marriage, so it better be awesome.

Foreman: Ferrous oxide contrast?

[House sees Chase. He grabs Taub and uses him as a human shield.]

House: Gets absorbed by the spleen. Unless he doesn't have one. In which case it's absorbed by the liver, and fries that.

Taub: You're k*lling him?

Chase: You think I opened him up and didn't take out his spleen?

[House starts the MRI then heads for the observation room, followed by the team.]

House: All organs do look kind of the same – red and squishy.

[House types something into the computer.]

Thirteen: Oh, my God.

Foreman: Accessory spleens.

Taub: Okay, that is amazing.

House: 12 years, eight stories, and a dumpster ago, he broke three ribs, damaged his spleen. Bits of it split off, circulated through his bloodstream until they landed and attached somewhere else.

Chase: So it is TTP. I just didn't remove... all of his spleens.

House: 16 splenectomies. Pretty sure he gets a set of steak knives with that.

[House leaves. Chase starts to follow.]

[Cut to the hallway. House turns as Chase leaves the MRI room and he starts walking faster.]

Chase: I can outrun you. [House stops and turns toward Chase.] Sorry about the nose. And the eye. And the, uh... eyebrow.

House: Guess I deserved it.

Chase: Well, if I thought that, I wouldn't be apologizing.

House: Your fist slipped?

Chase: Everybody kept bugging me, asking if I was okay.

House: So you busted my nose to keep people off your back.

Chase: [wincing then admitting it] Pretty much.

House: Making people even more worried about you.

Chase: Maybe. But at least they're not talking to me about it.

House: [slight nod] Fair enough.

Chase: Cheers.

[Chase heads off. House almost smiles.]

[Cut to post-op. Taub is checking Sidas. House sits on the next bed.]

Sidas: Thank you.

House: Don't be so grateful. You'll be delivering packages for 70 years to pay for it.

Sidas: Well, uh, thanks for our talk. It's been a while since I had a stimulating conversation.

House: So what're you gonna do?

Sidas: Go back to my life.

Taub: Which one?

Sidas: The one that has my wife in it.

Taub: Robotripping. How's she feel about that?

Sidas: Well, she doesn't have to know. It's worked for 12 years.

House: [standing] Tell your brain I said good-bye.

[Sidas nods. House leaves.]

[Cut to the hallway. Taub catches up with House.]

Taub: Einstein is giving himself a lobotomy, and you're cool with that?

House: Ignorance is bliss.

Taub: Hold that pose. [He whips out a camera and takes a picture of House.] I'll start with t-shirts and mugs, and see how it goes.

[Cut to Taub’s living room. Rachel is working on her laptop. Taub sits on the couch next to her.]

Taub: Home early.

[He holds up the camera with House’s picture in the viewer.]

Rachel: What happened to him? You b*at up House?

Taub: Just one right hook.

Rachel: Why? What happened?

Taub: You were right. I told him we need to lay down some ground rules, got a little heated.

Rachel: That's not what I meant. Is he okay? Are you gonna be fired? Arrested?

Taub: Everything's fine.

Rachel: [staring at the picture] Wow.

[She closes the laptop and leans over to kiss him, then crawl on top of him.]

[Cut to the hospital lobby. House is sitting by the front desk. Cuddy comes out of the clinic, facing House. She turns to leave for the day.]

House: [rising] Dr. Cuddy. Can we at least be civil?

[She stops and he joins her.]

Cuddy: How's your nose?

House: It's okay. Does your kid like animals? I got tickets to that holiday carnival. I hear they have a nice petting zoo.

Cuddy: I think I was pretty clear before.

House: I don't mean with me. Here. Take 'em. Enjoy.

Cuddy: No, thanks.

House: They're not fake. I didn't steal them. One of the nurses was selling 'em for her kid's scout trip. I know it doesn't make things right between us, but I just wanted to do something nice.

Cuddy: [looking pained.] I don't want them.

House: Okay.

Cuddy: I'll see you tomorrow.

[Cut to Wilson’s. House is in the bathroom, examining his wounds. Wilson enters.]

House: They didn't split up. She wouldn't take the tickets.

Wilson: Of course. Windtalker code for "we never split up." House, she told you multiple times she wants nothing to do with you.

House: I wasn't gonna be there. She just felt guilty that I felt guilty, so she couldn't take them.

Wilson: Either that or she didn't want to appease you.

House: These weren't reparations. Just a simple gesture of remorse, and she slapped it down. They didn't break up. She just wanted me to think that so I’d back off.

Wilson: Dare I ask what you're gonna do?

House: Nothing. I said they'd either break up or they'd stay together. They didn't break up.

Wilson: And you're okay with that?

House: It is what it is.

Wilson: Good for you.

House: [pulling the bandaid off] Aah.

[Cut to Cuddy’s living room. James Taylor’s Enditol plays in the background. She comes in and smiles. Lucas is on the floor, holding Rachel.]

Cuddy: House knows I lied.

Lucas: Why? What'd he say?

Cuddy: Nothing. I could just tell.

Lucas: You want to stage another breakup?

Cuddy: No. [picking up Rachel] Oh, hi. It seems like he's gonna leave us alone.

Lucas: Why would he do that?

Cuddy: I'm not completely sure.

Lucas: So, we have his blessing?

Cuddy: I guess so.

Lucas: I mad you some eggplant Parmesan. Maybe House isn't so bad after all.

Cuddy: That would be nice, wouldn't it?

[The End]