A/N: This one-shot takes place at the end of Halfwit (3x15) and is basically my take on what could have happened in there. I've always wanted the team to have a serious, heart to heart conversation with House. It makes it rather difficult not to be OOC since it never really happened on the show, but I tried Happy Reading!

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First, it must have been the bright lights shining in the pub that caught his eye, in contrast tow the dull evening twilight outside. Then, his eyes must have wandered, he must have looked inside and seen something; he suddenly stopped walking and stood still, watching.

A lot of people were there that evening, drinking beers and catching up with friends. Some were playing a game of billiards while others were sitting at tables, chatting and laughing loudly. Waitresses bustled about, taking orders. The barman, as he methodically dried off glasses with a towel that he then slung over his shoulder, was joking with some customers. A group of middle-aged men were staring at a small screen that was broadcasting a horse race, cheering.

One would think it was a typical evening, however, in a discreet corner, Gregory House's three employees, who were, just like everyone else, having a nice time, occupied a vintage circular booth with red leather seats. They each had a beer and were intently listening to Chase. They then all burst into laughter, Cameron even slightly doubling over. Foreman tilted his head and smiled at his colleague, looking unusually amused. He then went on talking.

House, from outside, seemed hesitant to join them. He watched them a little longer, seemingly weighing his options. Wilson's earlier speech must have had an effect on him because, after fidgeting a little while with his cane, he slowly made his way towards the door.

Cameron was talking to Chase about her worst med school stories when she noticed he wasn't quite listening and was looking at something. His expression was a mix of anger and surprise; his mouth contorted into a strange shape.

"House…" the word hung in the air.

The two others immediately looked in the same direction to see their boss standing in front of them, leaning on his cane.

"Move over" he said to Cameron before sitting beside her, ignoring the look she gave him. In fact, he didn't look at any of them. Instead, he looked at his hands, and then motioned to a waitress. "I'd like a scotch" he said. "I sure am going to need it with these feisty little people here." She gave him a curt nod and went off. House rubbed his face and let out a heavy sigh. A few seconds passed, although it seemed more like a few minutes to the group.

"What are you doing here House?" Foreman finally asked in a tone near disgust.

"I thought it would be fun to spend an evening with you guys." He smiled sheepishly. They didn't seem very impressed. "You know, bonding and all…" he continued. "I thought-

"Why did you do that?" Cameron cut him off sharply and looked at him straight in the eyes. "Just to get high right?" The words stung like alcohol on a fresh wound.

He didn't answer. Luckily, at that moment the waitress came back with his scotch. He downed it all in one go and then started fiddling with the glass, tilting it back and forth.

"Why House?" she repeated

"Because I thought it would be a fun experience. I was feeling an imbalance in my feng shui. Boston seemed like-"

"Cut the crap already!" It was now Chase's turn to look at him wildly. "Are you here just to mess with us some more? If so, you can just leave right now. We're not interested in any of your games House."

"Christ Wilson I hate you..." he muttered to himself, rolling his eyes. He breathed in deeply. "Fine." he said, raising his head and looking at them. "I guess I owe you guys an apology" he started. "It was… ridiculously… stupid of me…" he paused. The wheels suddenly seemed to be turning in his brain and his expression slowly changed, becoming more determined. He looked up again, tilted his head ever so slightly and smirked. " God can Wilson play mind games on me" he mused, "I had my reasons to do what I did- reasons you wouldn't understand. You shouldn't have got involved. It would have all been fine if you had known nothing about this and I wouldn't even be here now, talking about this with you."

"We got involved because we care bout you House! You might not think so but we all do. If you could just be honest with us and at least tell us why…" Chase said, looking at his boss. Then, House took out the all too familiar orange bottle and shook out a Vicodin. As the pill rattled and fell onto his hand, Chase seemed to have had a revelation of his own. "It's the pills, isn't it?" he asked, already knowing the answer, the look on House's face only serving as further proof that he had just understood. "I mean, not the pills… but the leg?" It was more of a statement than a question but again, Chase knew by looking at him that he had hit the right spot, a sore spot.

They all fell silent. Foreman and Cameron exchanged looks. House ordered two more glasses of scotch ("I was right, I really need it" he said). Chase was pensive. House then drank his scotches and started passively aggressively rubbing the subject of the conversation. The tension between them was palpable.

"I guess I have two choices here…" House said finally, the alcohol working its magic. "I can either walk out of here and we never talk about this evening again…" he paused; the three others waited expectantly "Or, I can tell you guys some of what you want to know and then never talk about this evening again…" He looked straight at them "So, what's it going to be?"