A/N – thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed! Your reviews mean a lot to me and encourage me to keep going.

I'm looking to end this before the season premiere.

The next day House was moved out of the infirmary and back to his regular cell. He was still going through withdrawal but the worst of it was over with. He would remain on the Librium for the near future. The prison doctor would continue to follow him with daily visits to his cell. The doctor had informed him that he could remain on the Methadone for as long as he needed narcotic pain relief. They were already tapering the Methadone doses down anyway, and when they got to the lowest possible dose that kept his pain under control, he would remain on that dose. The nurses would still come by his cell several times a day with his medications and watch while he took them.

When he was moved back to his regular cell, it was under a guard's escort just like usual. This time, since he was able to walk with the aid of the prison cane, they handcuffed his hands in front of him so he could still use the cane. Two guards were in attendance when he was cuffed in the infirmary, but only one guard escorted him back to his regular cell. On his way back from the infirmary, he had to walk the gauntlet of other inmates who did nothing but yell, scream and taunt him. Thank God they were all behind steel doors and not bars. All this screaming and taunting seemed to be routine behavior. They did this every time any inmate was escorted down the hall. House analyzed that it could be for entertainment or it could be for some kind of power play, to make new inmates realize just how low on the totem pole they really were.

Fortunately, House hadn't acquired a new roommate during the short time he was in the infirmary. The last thing he wanted was to come back to his regular cell and find a new cellie waiting for him. The guard had informed him that Big Fat Smelly Guy was in the hole.

Shortly after he was back in his old cell, the warden came by for just a short time. The warden introduced himself and that was pretty much about it. Jail lesson number 14 was that there are no niceties in jail. Being nice makes you weak. His guards weren't nice, the warden wasn't nice, and the inmates weren't nice. Nobody wants to be weak.

Jail lesson number 15, House learned quickly, was that being disabled and on Methadone makes you more of a target than you would be otherwise. Within a day or so, every inmate on the block learned the routine. Every time the nurse visited House's cell, the nurse brought drugs. The nurse always came with a guard so the nurse wasn't the other inmates' target. House was. House had an antisocial attitude, a cane, and a reliable source of medications. He had three things any inmate there would love to use against him, and House knew it.

Every time the nurse came to his cell with his Librium and Methadone, the screaming just increased when the nurse left.

"Hey bitch! I'm a come get me some!"

"I got a use for that cane, yes sir!"

"You like to screw with people? Come screw with me!"

House just curled up on his bunk with his eyes screwed shut and his hands over his ears.

Jail lesson number 16: Figure out how to prove yourself in jail. The alternatives, risk getting killed or being everyone else's bitch, were unthinkable.

House had what was ordinarily an excellent weapon; his wickedly acerbic wit. In here, though, these people were so stupid that his wit would be wasted on them or, worse yet, turned against him. House had a lot of work to do, figuring out how to prove himself without getting himself killed in the process.

Dinner arrived, and just like before, the tray was shoved through his food port. The guard announced, "You're locked down tonight. You act ok and you'll eat in the mess hall tomorrow."

The mess on the tray was no more appetizing than anything else he'd been served, but he was hungry for the first time in days. He was hungry enough to close his eyes and eat the stuff.

Inmates in House's block had thirty minutes to eat. That's all. From the time their trays were served to the time trays were picked up, inmates had thirty minutes to shovel the food in. About thirty minutes later, guards came by to pick up the trays. During his first meal out of the infirmary, House saw one inmate forcibly extracted from his cell for failure to return his tray when the guards came by to collect it. House learned that you either consumed everything on the tray within the thirty allotted minutes or you forfeited anything that was not consumed.

Another inmate, presumably in the cell to his left, said in a normal tone of voice, "Hey, you don't have to eat that shit. They got a commissary here. You can earn points for the commissary doing jobs. Spend your points at the commissary. I'll show ya when they let you out tomorrow."

Someone actually wants to talk to me? House's guard went up higher. He still had no idea who he could trust, or if he could trust anyone.

After "dinner" was over with and the trays were collected. House had nothing else to do but think. He was still on lockdown. He had no idea why, but he guessed it was because he was new and didn't know the routine yet. He knew he was at a disadvantage in terms of the power play with the other inmates, and in order to prove himself, he had to come up with a weapon other than his wit.

Pills? Maybe. Pills make an inmate a target, true, but they could also give power. Problem was, the only medication he was getting that was in pill form was Librium. Methadone is liquid. He could start cheeking the Librium, but he still needed it for a short while, and anyway, they'd stop giving it to him in a week or so. Even if he could get by with cheeking it, the supply would stop within a week.

The only other weapon he had at his disposal was his brain. Not wit. Brain power. Intellect. He could figure out some way to use his intellect to his advantage, to lord it over all the crazy nut jobs in here. He briefly considered some sort of blackmail against the warden, like he tried to do to Nolan in Mayfield. The problem with blackmailing the warden was that the warden could add time on for bad behavior.

Plan A was to game the attorney out; figure out what angle the attorney was going to take in House's defense and hope that they wouldn't just wind up butting heads.

Plan B was to game out the other inmates.

The nurse and a guard came by with his evening Methadone and Librium. House dutifully swallowed both, stuck his tongue out and pulled his cheeks apart to prove he hadn't cheeked the Librium. For a brief moment he thought about sarcastically asking them if they wanted to check any other cavities, but then these people would actually do it.

He went to sleep early. Tomorrow would be a busy day.