HARVARD UNIVERSITY, BOSTON, MA

House and Foreman stood outside Walter Bishop's laboratory in the Harvard basement. The door was covered with a plastic tarp, secured by strips of yellow and black tape which clearly said "WARNING: BIOHAZARDOUS AREA." House raised his cane and with the hook tore the tape aware; the plastic sheet fell to the floor with a quiet rustle, revealing a plain metal door with small inset window.

"That door probably has an alarm on it House."

"Are you kidding? Alarms hadn't even been invented when they built this place." House tested the handle, it was locked. "Looks like they'd invented locks though. Hand me your wallet."

Foreman eyed him suspiciously. "Why?"

"I need a credit card. I bet you have a dozen."

"Here's an idea House: use your own credit card."

House rolled his eyes. "You really think anyone would give me a credit card?"

Foreman arched an eyebrow and considered House for a moment, then cautiously handed his wallet over. House reached for it and Foreman pulled it back. "No funny business."

House shot him a sour look and snatched the wallet from his hand. He flipped it open, pulled out a credit card and handed it back. "See?"

Foreman frowned and slid the wallet back in his pocket while House turned his attention to the door. He slid the card into the thin gap between the door and it's frame and jiggled it a bit. The door popped open.

"Voilà! Easy as pie."

"My credit card?"

House frowned and pulled the card out from his pocket, handing it over to Foreman, who simply shook his head as he returned it to his wallet.

House entered the lab first, his hand fumbling along the wall for a light switch. Foreman followed him cautiously. House found the switch and the room flooded with light. His eyes went wide as he took in the room's contents.

"Oh neat!"

Foreman scanned the room, which was full of aging machines representing a dozen different scientific disciplines.

"Is that a cow?"

"Look at this place!" House hobbled forward towards the stairs and hopped on the rail, sliding down to the medical bay that dominated the room. "It's like we've died and gone to evil genius heaven."

"This place may not be safe. We still don't know what caused Walter's coma."

"Pfft," House waved offed Foreman's concerns and pointed to the cow. "The cow seems fine. I'm sure it's safe."

Foreman followed him down the stairs. In addition to the standard heart monitors and EEG devices, there were an array of strange machines that he couldn't begin to name, let alone fathom their purpose.

House stopped to pick up a jumble of wires connected to a metal frame. Foreman recognized the frame as belonging to a neurosurgeon's tools, it was used to hold a patients head still during surgery. But the wires he couldn't explain. House looked at him, his face a comic mask of confusion. "I don't have the slightest idea what this is. I love it!"

There was a loud clack, the distinct sound of a gun being cocked. Foreman's hands were already going up before the woman behind him said: "Freeze!"

Foreman shot an angry glance at House. "I told you there was an alarm."

House looked up as Foreman turned around, both were met with the sight of an attractive young African-American woman holding a 9mm automatic. It was pointed squarely at Foreman's chest.

"FBI, don't move."

"Wait," Foreman started. "We can explain. We're doctors."

"Doctors?"

"Walter Bishop is our patient. We're his doctors."

The gun wavered in her hands, and she slowly lowered it, still keeping it cocked.

"What are you doing here?"

"We're looking for clues," explained House as he hobbled forward. "Clues to what put your boss in a coma. He is your boss, right?"

"Yeah, kinda. Not really. I'm more like a babysitter really. It's complicated."

"Yeah, I'll bet. Anyhoo, what I'd really like to be doing is getting back to exploring your boss's cool evil genius laboratory and hopefully finding something that will help me save his life. So, you can either shoot me, or let me get back to that."

She snorted and uncocked her pistol, tucking it away in a holster behind her back. House shrugged and returned to poking around in Walter's stuff.

"He always like that?"

Foreman nodded. "Pretty much."

"Is he your boss?"

"Kinda. Not really. It's complicated."

She snorted again, but this time it wasn't derisive. She held out her hand. "I'm Astrid. Astrid Farnsworth."

Foreman smiled as he shook her hand. "I'm Eric Foreman. He's Greg House." Foreman checked Astrid out, making no attempt to hide it. "You were looking pretty badass with that pistol, girl. Very Foxy Brown."

Astrid blushed as she studied the ground. She was about to respond when House shouted.

"Oh man, check this out" He was holding up a dozen hypodermic needles held together by a complex system of straps, with more electrical wires and EEG pads. "What is this? I don't know! But it's awesome!"

Astrid looked to Foreman for an explanation, but he could only shrug and throw his hands up. House continued his exploration of the room, and soon Astrid and Foreman were helping him sort through it all. When they came across Walter's journals, House stopped.

"This is what I need."

As House took a seat at Walter's desk and began pouring over the journals, Foreman moseyed over to where Astrid stood and made small talk as House read. They were interrupted by the sharp trill of Foreman's BlackBerry. He smiled apologetically to Astrid and held up a finger. "Hold on, I have to check this."

It was a text from Massachusetts General, the results of Walter's tox screen.

"House, the tox screen results are in." Foreman read the results with growing disbelief. "This is amazing. I can't believe this guy didn't fall into a coma earlier. LSD, DMT, MMDA, methamphetamines, benzedrines, dipropyltryptamines, House there isn't a single mood altering drug that this guy isn't on. Oh my god, there are traces of trichlorimide in his system. That's a poison. Oh, and okay, they've also found 17 different compounds they can't identify."

House looked up from the journals and nodded. He seemed genuinely impressed. "If the coma is a symptom of the drug use, then we're never going to sort it out. Not when we don't know what half of them are."

Foreman watched House, recognizing the signs of growing frustration and impatience. House was getting nowhere, so his leg would soon be acting up. Sure enough he reached into his pocket and fumbled for his bottle of Vicoden, popping it open and dropping a pill into his hand. As House tossed the pill into his mouth and gulped it down Astrid stared at him, a slightly scandalized expression on her face. Eric only frowned as House continued reading.

Half an hour later House rubbed his thigh, trying to ignore the aching pain in his leg. He popped another Vicoden in his mouth and Foreman's eyes narrowed. House held the pill between his teeth and eyed Foreman defiantly before sucking it down. He flipped another page in Walter's journal. It was more of the same incoherent rambling; discussion of alternate dimensions coexisting with odes to breakfast cereals. Frequently in the same paragraph.

"Dammit!" House swept his arm across the desk, sending Walter's journals tumbling to the floor. "There's nothing here, nothing that makes any damn sense. I thought if I read through these things, I could get a glimpse into his mind, understand his thought processes."

Turning to face Foreman and Astrid, House rested his chin on the curve of his cane, a solemn expression on his face as he contemplated the laboratory. Then he tossed the cane into the air with a twirl and caught it, adding: "But hey, big surprise, inside the crazy man's head is a whole lot of crazy!"

Foreman's jaw tightened. He found himself wishing Wilson was here and could do that thing he did, where he talked to House and distracted him long enough to have an epiphany. But Foreman had no idea how to talk to House like a normal person. Foreman could never separate the man from the genius the way Wilson could. Foreman had to admit that has much as he respected and admired House's genius, he actually hated the man on a personal level.

"It's too bad you don't know how to run the mind interface protocols," mused Astrid. "Then you could really get inside Walter's head."

House's eyebrow went up. "The mind interface what nows?"

"Mind interface protocols?" She gestured at the devices House had been playing with earlier. "Walter uses those things to connect people's minds together. So that you can communicate with people in comas, that sort of thing."

House and Foreman looked at each incredulously. Foreman turned to consider Astrid, trying and failing to keep a condescending look off his face. "That's impossible. It can't be done."

Astrid's eyes narrowed. "Oh okay. I mean, I've only seen him do it. What do I know?"

"Look, don't get offended. I'm a neurologist. If that was possible, I'm sure I'd know about it. House, back me up here."

"Don't look at me, I'm not getting involved in this."

"Well excuse me Mr. I'm a neurologist. I've seen Walter record the thoughts of dead people, so maybe you don't know everything."

"Oh snap," House exclaimed. Foreman and Farnsworth both shot him a dirty look. "What? Am I not allowed to say that?"

Astrid considered House like she was smelling something rotten, then turned back to Foreman, eying him distastefully. "I've got the videotape to prove it."

"Wait," House rose and stumbled excitedly towards Astrid. "You have video tape of Walter performing this mind interface protocol?"

"Uh, yeah. That's what I just said."

House looked at Foreman and Foreman shook his head. "No way House, no way."

"Oh yeah. Come on. How cool is that?"

"What?" Astrid glanced back and forth between the two doctors. "What's going on?"

"House thinks we can use the videotapes to reverse engineer Walter's quack science and repeat the experiment."

House nodded, a devilish grin on his face.

"Except there is no way in hell anyone is going to let him bring a possibly infectious patient into Harvard and then hook up his brain through some crazy device that will probably kill you House. You understand that?"

"Psh. We already know he's not infectious. New girl, I forget your name. Get the videotapes."

"Ok, first of all, it's Astrid. And you can ask nicely."

"Astrid, please get the videotapes." Astrid considered House skeptically but turned to fetch the videos. House nodded and looked to Foreman. "Call Agent Dunham, tell her we need Walter brought here."

"What? Why me? Your the one who wants to play mad scientist."

"Exactly, and when Dunham hears that you want to play along, she'll make it happen."

Foreman eyed him skeptically but pulled out his cellphone and dialed agent Dunham. The phone rang.

"I hope you know what you're doing House."