Disclaimer: This never happened. Don't mind the ramblings of a half-asleep mind. (And... I don't own House. Can't forget that bit.)

o_-________________________________-[H]-__________________________________-_o

Beat of a butterfly's wings, they say.

Something so small… can change your life.

So accustomed to him coming to her, twisting her arm, her morality for whatever he needed, she'd slipped into that train of thought already. Maybe he couldn't see it in her face. Still, of course she would. Pushing him away at the thought that he might actually be serious.

I quit.

Had anybody else said those words, she'd ask what was wrong, what was happening. But to him? Oh no. Once bitten, twice shy. Shrugged it off. Careless words. Probably a ploy, right? Only Gregory House, exercising his power over the hospital administrator…

Light words, glazing right over what he'd said. She didn't believe him. Had no reason to believe him.

God, the room was so empty.

Angry. Helpless, even. He knew how to hurt with words, lashed out to make her a little more like him, dammit –

Seeing his words hit home. Barbed arrows.

If she replied, he didn't hear it.

He opened his mouth, took a breath. The truth.

Something under his cane shifted. Carpet pile settling, perhaps. Just a fraction of an inch.

Just enough to stop his voice.

The doors closed in his face and he was alone again. He couldn't watch her walk away. He couldn't not do it.

He stood there until his leg forced him to sit. His cane lay on the ground, but he wasn't looking at it. Patients… people… they walked through the clinic, passing, slipping from sight, fear and relief interchangeable with diagnoses.

Eventually he stopped watching. Closed his eyes and tried to imagine he was fine. His hand found his injured thigh and hovered.

The next person to enter the room was Wilson.

Platitudes. Reassurances. Anger. What a clever man to keep them all hidden so badly. This was the man who would take his best friend to a rehab center. Let him be locked up in a room, screaming for drugs. Alone, with nobody but his insanity for company. What kind of a friend…

Rationalizations were his constant company. Keeping company with his worst side and the face of a girl he let die.

He was in the car now. Words weren't welcome here. He could see the twisted logic in it – he'd killed Wilson's girlfriend. Karma's a bitch. Get it over with.

He knew he'd never make it in there. Detox was easy, comparatively. At least he knew what to expect.

Rain on the windshield. Right wiper was shuddering slightly as it flew. Two weeks till it would break – he was sure of it.

A fingertip hooked the sun-shade. The mirror on the back told him he looked like hell. Closing his eyes made it easier to cope.

How much longer?An easy question. No answer from Wilson. Had he even spoken out loud?

Traffic whizzing by kept him awake. He closed the window. Sleeping was easier than trying not to sleep. It wouldn't come.

Eventually the car came to a stop. Far too quickly to be that rehab center. And they were parked on a slope.

That hallucination pretending to him was shouting in his ear. One eye reluctantly opened. There was something in Wilson's tired tone that asked for compliance.

Damn, he'd put him a through a lot in the past few days.

He turned his head to the left, saw a familiar doorway, turned to the right, saw Wilson. And for the first time in the whole day, felt nobody was shouting over him. That bitchy little voice was silent. House shut his mouth and listened, felt a glimmer of respect shine through the impending rainclouds.

"I'm going to regret this."

Damn straight. But don't let that stop you.

"I'll call in sick."

o_-_______________________________-[H]-__________________________________-_o

A/N: Wow. Been a long time since I've written for House. Sure, it's disjointed like hell, but past-midnight last night, so was I. Please excuse that!

Stuff like work, college, my novel - it eats my life. But I saw last night's episode, and this little what-if stuck in my head and wouldn't let me sleep. So, I suppose it's me getting back into practice so I can work on my other stories. :)

Yeah, this is me saying I'm back and writing again~!

-P'Bantonox