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House stood in front of the elevator. He looked over at Wilson's office. The oncologist was not there he couldn't see any lights inside.

Walking in there and interrupting Wilson while he was busy with his files because House was bored or hungry. Interrupting the oncologist while he talked to a patient to make him join House on the balcony. Sitting on the couch and talking about some drivel while he escaped from Cuddy. House already missed it. The elevator door opened and House stepped inside.

He didn't spread any tears but he felt he was close to it. How the hell was he supposed to make it without his job? That was his only thought on his sad way out of the hospital.

Cuddy had seen him crossing the closed clinic on his way out. She felt terrible. But she had no choice. She couldn't back him up forever. In that moment Cuddy just hated House. She hated him for forcing her into this position. Forcing her to take away the only thing that mattered to him. Forcing her to destroy his life. She hated him because after all those years she had been convinced that there might be a chance for a relationship with him.

Now he was out of the game. He had packed up two or three things from his office and had left. She would never see him again in this place she was convinced of that. Even if he got hit by a bus in front of the door and was nearly dead he would force the paramedics to get him over to Princeton general.

Cuddy went through the patient's file again. She couldn't say how many times she had read it that day. When she had got the autopsy report the day before she had been kind of relieved since it showed that House had not killed the guy. Still she had no choice. He had stolen meds, he had disobeyed a direct order from his boss and he had broken protocol once more. It took the board only ten minutes to discuss the topic. Right after this they had a discussion about the nurse's newest request: New scrubs. Is there anything less important on this planet?


Once Wilson had vanished the other members didn't think twice about his abrogation.

The oncologist had shown up in her office before the board meeting.

"You can't do that, Cuddy.", the oncologist had begged her. "It was not his fault."

"No, James. It's enough. Yes it was not his fault but still the guy is dead. And next time it could be his fault. I'm not taking that risk any longer. We gave him enough opportunities but House will never learn to follow certain rules. And then it will be our fault as well because we let him do it."

"But we are talking about House. You know he needs this job. Suspend him for a while or find some other punishment but let him keep his job.", Wilson went on.

"You think this is easy for me? I hate this as much as you do but we have to do it. I'm sorry."

Wilson shook his head.

"What if I don't vote for it? I'm a member of that board."

Cuddy sighed. She looked depressed.

"Well, I'm not Vogler. I won't fire you just to fire him. But if you are honest for a moment and if you forget for just a second that he is your friend you'll realize that we are doing the right thing."

"That's the thing about friendships, Cuddy. You can't just forget it for a second. Do what you want. I won't be a part of it. Take me of the board. I'm not interested in that shit anyway.", he had stormed out of her office and not shown up for the board meeting.


Cuddy focused on the file in front of her again. Now her mood lightened up.

The coroner had found Epinephrine in his blood. The team had given the guy epinephrine during their way of diagnosing him. It had raised his heart beat. Maybe the Cortisol didn't cause the aneurysm. Maybe it was already there as a ticking time bomb when House injected him.

But why wasn't it listed amongst the drugs they had prescribed him? Suddenly the scales fell from her eyes.

"His kidneys were shutting down his liver failed his pancreas wasn't looking very promising. Why would I care about his heart?", House had told her last night.

There was no other possible explanation. House had given it to him together with the steroids to cause a raised heartbeat so the drugs got distributed faster in the system.

Tears showed up in the corner of her eyes. The hospital lawyer was on the case the police was investigating, there was no way they wouldn't find out about this. This case suddenly turned from a simple but tragic accident into a crime. House would lose so much more than just his job.


House pondered about the exactly same thing back at his place. He stood inside his living room and wondered when the cops would show up again. Next time they wouldn't wait for him to get a coat and his keys. They would treat him as the criminal he had turned into just by trying to save a life.

How could he be that stupid? He looked at the empty bottles on his table. Out of sudden he cleared it with his cane. The bottles flew all across the room banging loudly on the floor and against the wall. The floor was covered in shreds of glass. A very fitting metaphor for his situation. That was his life lying there on his floor. Totally shattered in pieces. It would cost him a lot to get it fixed and still it would never be the same again.

The next victim of his rage attack was his book shelf. His books joined the broken glass on the floor. Expensive rare medical redactions or just the newest medical journal he didn't care. He wouldn't need them anymore anyway. Suddenly he tripped over his heavy edition of "Comprehensive clinical nephrology" and fell down on the floor. He held his leg in pain and rubbed over the thigh.

"God damn it!", he yelled trying to get all his anger out. He hit his fist on his wooden floor again and again not caring about the glass pieces he pushed inside his hand every time he banged it on the floor and kept on shouting. Finally he lied on his stomach his face buried in his bleeding hands and started sobbing.

He hadn't cried in years and had forgotten about the relieving feeling it could provide.


House had no idea how long he had been lying on his floor in the middle of the mess he had produced himself. He had not heard the key in the lock and startled when he suddenly felt a hand on his back.

He looked up and saw Wilson standing over him with a shocked expression on his face when he gazed around the living room that looked as if a bomb had hit it.

House realized how pathetic he had to appear that moment and got up.

"Get out of here. Leave the key on my desk.", he snapped and shoved some books of his couch to take a seat.

"What happened, House? You are hurt.", Wilson asked him wondering if he should start cleaning up the place or get his friend to the hospital.

House wiped his face with his sleeve.

"A former friend of mine busted me. That's what happened. Good bye!"

Wilson sighed. "I told you I couldn't do anything."

"Right!", House shouted. "It was too hard to vote against my abrogation when it was your turn. I confuse yes and no all the time, too."

"Why would you push the only person that still cares about you out of your life now?", Wilson yelled.

"Because I don't care about you anymore. I get it we are even. I took away the most important thing in your life now you did the same thing to me. Fortunately for me I don't have to mourn a dead girlfriend. I just lose everything in my life."

Wilson got upset. "Don't compare your damn job to Amber. This has nothing to do with it. I didn't inject him with the drugs. You did this all by yourself."

Tired House waved away.

"Just leave, Wilson. Leave and don't come back. I'm done with you."

Wilson didn't know what to do. They had just rebuilt their fragile friendship during the past few months. Wilson didn't want to lose House. House was more in need of help than ever before. How was he supposed to leave right now?

But this was not about helping House anymore. He had to find a way to deal with losing another person.

"Good luck, House!", he mumbled and left the apartment.

House cleaned up his hurt left hand and put a bandage around it. Then he went to bed.


They were actually quite nice with him. House woke up at half past 11 the next morning. He expected them to show up in the middle of the night but apparently cops liked sleeping late as well.

It came in handy that he had fallen asleep in his clothes. Being dragged to the precinct in his pajamas would have been even more embarrassing.

He took his cane and made the distance from his bedroom to the front door.

House opened up and glared at them. His expression told them he had expected them already.

He stepped back and didn't care whether they would enter or not.

"Gregory House.", one of them started. "We got an arrest warrant for you."

House just shrugged and sunk his head. Suddenly he didn't care. He felt like an observer who watched them stepping inside and taking the last remaining dignity from him.

He heard them saying something about his rights but didn't listen to them. Not the first time he had heard those words. He felt them pushing him against his wall and searching him for whatever they expected on him. His cane was the first thing he lost. The cop leaned it against the wall next to him but with his hands behind his head it was totally out of reach.

While one of the officers cuffed his hands behind his back two of his colleagues stepped inside. They waved another official document under his nose. It was a search warrant for his apartment. A guy who had a history of drug addiction, had been arrested for drug abuse before and had the guts to steal meds from the hospital pharmacy made them suspicious. For a moment House expected Tritter to come in as well. But at least this embarrassment passed him by.

House looked at the mess in his living room and stared at the cop with the search warrant.

"Don't touch my piano and clean up when you are done.", he snapped before he was led out and put on the backseat of a police car.


Hey I told you; don't expect a happy ending. Well, maybe a little one. We'll see.

I'm still glad about reviews. :-)