Disclaimer: Neither House MD nor X-files belong to me.
A/N: Sorry guys, but school is sucking the life out of me. That and insomnia. I'll try to find a way around it.
Chapter 4
He looks at the guy, "There were corpses here… Bodies buried under the floorboards."
The guy gives him an almost sympathetic look and gestures for him to sit down on a nearby armchair, "Why don't you have a seat, son."
* * *
House is sitting in the armchair, resting his head in his hands while the old guy stands beside him.
He looks up at the sound of the guy's voice, "You drink? Take drugs?"
House looks around the room before answering, "What is this, the Spanish inquisition?"
The guy gives him a knowing smile, "Get high?"
House shoots him a look, "Where are you going with this?"
"Are you overcome by the impulse to always prove everyone that you're right?"
House gives the guy an odd look, completely taken aback by the question.
"I'm in the field of mental health," the guy begins before sitting down, "I specialise in disorders and manias related to pathological behaviour as it pertains to the paranormal."
House looks at him disbelievingly, "I didn't think such a thing existed."
The guy smiles at him and explains further, "My specialty is in what I call soul prospectors-- a crossaxial classification I've codified by extensive interaction with visitors like yourself. Although, I suppose you don't fit exactly into that category. You've said you're not here on a ghost hunt, right?"
House answers in a way that leaves no doubt as to how ridiculous he believes that idea to be, "No…"
The guy appears to be lost in thought for a few moments before he reaches a conclusion, "Well, you may not be a ghost hunter, but I would say there are a lot of similarities between you and them, for example entering a supposedly haunted house late at night on Christmas Eve instead of having fun somewhere with your friends and family. I believe you all fall into pretty much the same general category."
"And what category is that?" asks House genuinely curious.
The guy answers him in a rather self-assured manner, "Narcissistic, overzealous, self-righteous egomaniac."
House lifts his eyebrows in surprise and slight amusement, "That's a category?"
The guy nods, "You kindly think of yourself as single-minded but you're prone to obsessive compulsiveness, workaholism, antisocialism... Fertile fields for the descent into total wacko breakdown."
House gives him a 'watch it, buster' look before he defends himself, "I don't think that pegs me exactly."
"Oh, really? Breaking into my house in the middle of the night? Huh? Raving like a lunatic about some imaginary brick wall?"
House turns his head to look at the door. Sure enough, the wall is still there.
The old guy continues, "And those dead bodies you claim to have seen? You know why you think you see the things you do?"
"Because… I have seen them?"
The guy answers in a voice that would make you believe he can see the deepest secrets of your soul, "Cause you're a lonely man. A lonely man drowning in self-induced delusions that you believe will give your life meaning and significance and which your pathetic social maladjustment makes impossible for you to find elsewhere. You probably consider yourself passionate, serious, misunderstood. Am I right?"
Wow, compared to this guy, Wilson was an amateur. What House wouldn't give now for one of his lectures instead of this…whatever this was. He still couldn't decide if this guy was for real or if all of this was just part of some elaborate scheme.
The guy continued his attack, "Most people would rather stick their fingers in a wall socket than spend a minute with you."
House had enough, "All right, now just, uh... Just back off for a second."
But the guy was unrelenting, he barely waited for House to finish his sentence before he continued his psychoanalysis, "Spend every Christmas this way... Alone?"
"I'm not alone," he answered confidently. Cameron was here, wasn't she?
The old guy shook his head in reproach, "More self-delusion."
"No, I came here with my subordinate. She's somewhere in the house."
The guy does not believe him, "Behind a brick wall?"
House just smiles at that. He gave up on fighting the guy.
However, the old man doesn't seem willing to stop just yet, "How'd you get her to come with you? Played on her conscience?"
Houses smile immediately drops. How could he possibly know that? The guy must have seen her here in the house at least. Good, then she's still here somewhere. He felt mild relief wash over him.
They guy gives him a sad knowing smile before he continues with his accusations, "You know why you do it… listen endlessly to her droning moralisations. Cause you're afraid. Afraid of the loneliness. Am I right?"
House gives him a condescending nod and then answers, "I'd just like to find my co-worker."
The guy nods as well, "Good… Easy. Piece of cake."
The old guy stands up, and House follows him with his eyes as he starts walking towards the door. The brick wall is gone so he can easily pass to the other side. He turns around to address House one last time, "Brick wall?" he indicates the empty doorway, "Or brick wall?" he points his right thumb towards his head.
House stands up and takes a few steps towards the door.
They guy looks him straight in the eyes as he speaks, "Go ahead. Change your life."
House tries to follow him to the other side, only to collide face on with a brick wall that magically reappeared out of nowhere.
The old man is gone and the room is once again enveloped in darkness as the lights go off.
A/N: Okay, now we're really half way through the story. And since I want to finish it as soon as possible, I'll really try to write faster.
