House woke up from falling asleep in his lounge chair and surveyed the room, seeing he was alone. Shaking his head to feel more awake and to try and remember where his team went, helped him replay the last thing Chase said to him. The diagnosis was confirmed.

House looked around for his cane that he left on the right side of his chair, to go meet up with them but he didn't see it there. Looking around on the floor to see if it fell didn't help. It was nowhere around him.

He grabbed his cell phone and called Foreman's cell. "Where did you put it?" House asked when he answered.

"Put what?"

"My cane. It was here when I fell asleep, I woke up just now, and it's gone."

"I don't know, why do you think I had anything to do with it?"

"Because you know that walking without it causes me more misery than usual, having just been through surgery. And you have been the reason for most all of my misery in the last few months. So, I just assumed-"

"It wasn't me."

House hung up and squinted his eyes in thought. There was only one other person he thought could be behind it.

"Give it to me," he demanded when he opened the door to Wilson's office. When he opened the door wide enough he saw Cuddy sitting on the couch with blotchy cheeks. "Oh great," he commented rolling his eyes. He saw his cane laying across the top of Wilson's desk and kept his right hand on his thigh to ease the pain it caused walking without support and reached for it but Wilson pulled it away and put it in his lap. "C'mon, Wilson. I need it, I just had SURGERY!" He was trying his hardest to ignore Cuddy.

"You'll get it back when you apologize."

"What did I do to you?" House's voice was raising by the word.

"Not what you did to me, what you did to Cuddy," Wilson motioned to her but House kept his eye on him.

"I didn't do anything!"

"You went to her hospital, and screamed at her, then screamed ABOUT her before you left."

"And whose fault is that? YOU'RE the one who told me where she was. So if anyone should apologize it should be YOU," he pointed at him.

"You were scaring my PATIENT! And I already said I was sorry to her, now it's your turn."

House used his good foot to swing his position to face her, "I'm sorry," he swung back to face Wilson. "There, now give it back," he extended his left arm to get it from him.

Wilson walked over to him, House smiling thinking that's all it took to get it back, until he saw him pass him, walking out the door and turning back around to face House. "You'll get it back when you talk and apologize. And without screaming." Wilson shut the door in his face and House irritatedly turned to face her.

"So this is your fault that I'm in excruciating pain when I take a step." She saw his limp was ten times worse than it normally is, when he took a seat on the opposite end of the couch as her. "Given how you yelled at me, and kicked me out, I wasn't expecting to see you around these parts," he said looking down at his feet.

"I wasn't going to. But I need to know that you won't pull that on me again. I'm trying to build a good reputation there and you just about ruined it all in less than five minutes," her voice sounded strained like she's been crying for hours.

"So you came here to hear me say I'll never do it again?" he turned to look at her and saw that she was already looking at him. "Would you believe me even if I said I wouldn't?"

"I don't know."

He looked back down at his feet. "So, it really doesn't matter what I say. Then there's got to be another reason why you came here."

He looked back at her, noticing her body language change, looking even more uncomfortable than she was before he asked that. "There is."

"I don't REALLY know a Diagnostician."

"I know, Wilson told me, that's not it."

He kept his gaze on her, waiting.

"That Doctor that you met at my hospital, started having seizures three hours ago and no one knows why."

He looked confused, "three hours ago? How long was I asleep?"

She ignored his question. "I need you to look at him. See if you can figure out what's wrong with him."

"No one there knows?"

"They can't find anything. They put him in the MRI to see if anything could be triggering them but found nothing. And he would be the one that would think outside the box enough to figure something out; but, he's still in bad shape. He has had one every half hour." He studied her face and behind the nervousness that she was showing, hoping he would agree without any resistance, he saw panic.

"He was the guy, wasn't he?"

"What?"

"You look like you care too much. He's not just a Doctor in your hospital. He was the guy. Other than the nervousness on your face about whether I'll look at him or not, when he came up to meet me, he stood so close to you, he was practically touching you. That says that at one point or another, he was comfortable enough to not have those boundaries."

"That doesn't mean anything- we were a couple and look how far we are sitting from-" he extended his left hand and grabbed her upper thigh. She took it off and threw it back to his side. "Okay, he was the guy," she confessed and he lifted his head high for a second and dropped it down, his eyes looking up to keep her in his vision. "I..needed someone to talk to after what happened to us. I couldn't go to Wilson because he's your friend, I just started my job, he was there-"

"I get it," House interrupted, not sure how much more he wanted to hear.

"There has got to be a reason why those seizures are happening. They don't just happen to happen. Make the call, get him to come over here, I'll crack his head open and have a look." He grabbed his right thigh with his arm and walked over to the door and put his hand on the doorknob.

"You're not going into him blind are you?" she asked appalled.

He turned from the door to look back at her, with his left hand still on the knob. "Of course not, I left my blindfold at home," he moaned at the pain in his leg he was feeling and pulled out his Vicodin bottle and popped a few in his mouth.

"Thank you, House."

He looked down at the floor then at her, "I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for the puzzle...And, if you don't want me to come to your hospital anymore...I won't do it. I've done all the damage I could do there already anyway," she watched him continue to rub his leg. "Now, I'm going to go find Wilson and kill him. I miss prison. Much better drugs there," he smirked and turned to open the door.

"WIL-" he stopped short when he saw Wilson leaning against the wall next to his door, holding out the cane for House. He yanked it from him and limped away slowly; cautiously.

Wilson looked at Cuddy and observed her. "Did he apologize and say he won't bother you at your hospital anymore?"

"He did..in his own way." She was watching House walk down the hall and saw him look to his left and shouted out. "Foreman! A Dr. Ryan Triny will be here soon as a patient. Let me know when he gets here."

Wilson closed the door which blocked her view of him.

"You believed him?"

"He didn't look like he was lying."

"That-is what you wanted, wasn't it?" Wilson looked at her concerned but she still wasn't looking at him.

"Of course it is."

Wilson heard her agreeing, but the expression on her face as she continued to stare at his closed door as if she was still seeing House in her mind's eye, had a look of uncertainty...