He looked at the little cylinder of plastic, and a shock ran through him.

It wasn't possible. He had always thought, somewhere in his mind, that he would die holding that tiny plastic thing, lying on the floor in a pool of sweat and vomit.

He had been addicted to Vicodin for years—ever since his leg had been butchered by Stacy and Co.

Even Wilson had been unsuccessful in curing him, try as he might. He had badgered and mothered and cleaned up the messes, and yet somehow, it hadn't been enough.

He had faked rehab, for god's sake! He had smuggled in Vicodin and cheated all of them—even himself—out of freedom.

He had nearly been arrested, he had gone to court, he had overdosed multiple times, and it had never been enough.

Cuddy had forced him off of it—he had spent a week in withdrawal.

But it had never been enough.

And yet, somehow, this had happened.

He glanced once more at the label—because there had surely been a mistake.

No, no, there it was, in bold letters—refill date was September.

But this was late October.

So why were there only two pills missing?

It wasn't like he was using something from his stash. He didn't even have a stash anymore.

Not since Allison...

The thought caught on in his mind, and everything clicked into place.

He had not touched his Vicodin since Allison had moved in a month ago.

And he smiled.

She was next to him, reading in bed.

"Hey," he said, and kissed her forehead.

"Um, hey? What's going on?"

"Nothing." He kissed her again, and smiled. "I just realized something, that's all."

"Well, that's great, but I think I'm going to sleep so I don't catch whatever is messing you up. If you puke during the night, don't do it on me."

"I'm not on anything. I'm in love with you."

Her jaw dropped a good six inches. "Did you just...?"

He chuckled, and caught her lips with his. "Yes," he said, pulling away. "Sleep."

He had turned out his light, and hers had gone off a few minutes later.

Yet even when she was sound asleep besides him, he sat awake.

He had had a revelation.

He didn't need Vicodin, he thought as he looked at the woman next to him. He had a new addiction.

Okay, chapter seven is finished.

For anyone confused about the time line, it works like this:

Chapter one is the first night she stays at House's place.

Chapter two is basically describing their relationship—they dated for three months and then she all but moved in. She still has her own apartment, but she stays at House's apartment.

Chapter three through six all occur after this point.

And chapter seven is four months into their relationship.

Well, enjoy.

No Flames!!!