(This takes place in Season 6, during Baggage, after Wilson asks House to leave the condo. These are all House's thoughts, as he contemplates what Wilson has just told him.)
Leave. He wants me to leave. Why did he get this condo if he had plans to ask me to go? He bought a freaking organ and he couldn't even play chopsticks if his life depended on it. He let me bring my things in here, move in, get comfortable. Now, after I finally feel like I belong here, he's kicking me out. And he was so nonchalant about it. Just "I want you to move out." No other explanation, no apologies, nothing. Oh, how could I forget, that was preceded by "Sam likes you…" What parallel universe did he drop in from? That bitch has been out to get me since she invaded my nakedness in the kitchen weeks ago. Am I a threat to her? Is she THAT jealous of my friendship with Wilson? If she felt secure with herself then the answer would be no. Obviously she isn't. She still has issues and so who does she turn to? The one man she knew she could sweet talk into taking her back after all this time. And Wilson fell for it. I know it's been hard on him since Amber…., but the ex wife? He could do better than that. MUCH better.
Where does he expect me to go? Why of course, he knows I still hold the lease on my old apartment. I'm sure he just expects me to move back in there like I never left. Like I never had a reason to leave there in the first place. What was that reason again? Oh yes, of course, Mayfield. Dr. Nolan told him it would be better if I moved in with him. Didn't realize there was a time limit on that. If I'd known I'd have added another few dollars to the meter. Not that I need to stay with Wilson. I just would've preferred to make that decision on my own. It wasn't my decision to get expelled from Johns Hopkins. It wasn't my decision to lose muscle tissue in my thigh. It wasn't my decision to have Amber pick me up at that bar. It was my decision to befriend an oncologist at a medical convention who likes to break mirrors and stained glass windows. Best decision I ever made. So why is he doing this to me? To us? I mean, okay yes, I love the guy. No not THAT way! Geez, my subconscious needs to stop hanging around with the neighbors. Look, I'll say this just once. Say this? Think this. Whatever. He's like the brother I never had. Just when I began to feel like I should be here, he rejects me. It's just like…well just like, Cuddy. Okay, there, I've said it. I mean I've thought it. Maybe my subconscious needs a whiteboard to keep all this straight. She did the same damn thing.
She knows how I feel about her. How could she not? And what does she say? "I just want us to be friends." Friends. Who is she kidding? I've seen how she looks at me when she thinks no one is watching. That dance at the medical conference. There was something between us. And I finally got up the nerve to tell her why I never called her all those years ago. If only I hadn't been expelled. I had every intention of calling her. Why wouldn't I? Those tight fitting tops. That near perfect ass. Yeah, alright, that was part of it, she is a desirable woman. But at that time in my life, most of my conquests were one night, great time, and thanks a lot and move on. Not Cuddy. I mean calling her was my intention. Before the expulsion. That night we spent together all those years ago was different from anything I'd experienced before that. I felt something. This wasn't just sex. We connected. I wanted her. I wanted to see where this would go. I wanted to be with her, share my time with her, make a life with her. It's the first time that thought had ever entered my mind when thinking of a woman. But it never went further than a thought in my mind. The next thing I knew I was in the Dean's office. And that was that. Bye bye Michigan. And bye bye Cuddy.
Which brings us to now. Time to take an inventory. Bet my subconscious is really wishing for that whiteboard now. First question. What do I have? Let's see…I have Cuddy as a friend, Wilson as a roomie. I have an apartment I haven't lived in, in almost a year. I have one fine looking cane, an ever finer looking bike, and a Stratocaster to die for. And oh yes, pain. Always have an ample supply of that around here. Now, what don't I have? I thought these questions were supposed to get easier. I don't have…vicodin. And Cuddy. And…vicodin. Sorry, but was always better if I took two. Okay, what else? Apparently I also don't have a condo to live in any longer. And Wilson as a roomie. Sorry, put that one in the wrong list. Wishful thinking I guess. Next question? This is the grand finale folks. And the winner is…What do I want? Peace, love and to do good for others. Huh? Why the hell is Cameron invading myself conscious? Scat woman! Go get Chase to sign some other divorce papers; he's been lonely since the lockdown. Now, MY turn. I want…vicodin. And Cuddy. And…vicodin. Sounds familiar, doesn't it? Just between us, there isn't a day I don't want it. Or her. I want Wilson to get rid of the ex-bitch so things can return to normal. I want to see Thirteen and a few of those babes from the gay bar….hey, it's a distraction, it helps with the pain. That was in the HAVE list, remember? And while we're on the subject, I want to be PERMANENTLY rid of the pain. For future reference you can put that up there with the vicodin, Cuddy, vicodin. Guess that about covers it. Oh, and one more thing. Just a personal observation mind you. My leg hurts. Throbs. And ibuprofen? The placebo of pain pills. Great if you're a housewife with a headache. Not so much if you're in chronic pain that likes to make a repeat performance. And then an encore. Definitely not deserving of a standing ovation. Hell, I'm sometimes lucky if I can stand at all. It's at times like these that I really want…vicodin. Yeah, I know, I told you that already. Twice. Well technically four times. Which reminds me. Nolan. I have an appointment to see Nolan. Nice guy. Yes, I actually said that. Or rather thought that. I respect him. As a doctor and as a man. I feel comfortable with him. But maybe on the way, I check out the old apartment. Take inventory. Seems to be the catchword of the day. So, let's see. Jacket, bike, apartment, Nolan. I think that about covers it. But better take a few of these ibuprofen. I wish they were…yeah, you already know that. This ride will be a good distraction. Oh and one more thing. Inventory sucks….