The next morning, House woke up early and limped into the bathroom to start getting ready for the day. Normally, he would have stayed in bed for at least another three or four hours but the conversation he had with Wilson last night sparked something within him that just couldn't be ignored.

You…don't give up.

Those words kept playing themselves over and over in House's head as the diagnostician busied himself with chores and household activities in an attempt to calm himself down. In the past he had turned to drugs and alcohol to get him through situations like this but that wouldn't work this time. Especially, considering the fact that he had been clean and sober for over six months…

After doing a load of laundry, dishes and vacuuming the rug House had finally had enough of the Martha Stuart gig and headed over to the piano for a brief bought of normalcy in a time of confusion and uncertainty.

As he started to play a simple jazz scale House let his mind wander to a time where things made sense and he was still working at Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Thinking about the hospital now, in its purest form without him there made the diagnostician sigh as he absent mindedly rubbed his leg and continued to play only this time, instead of a jazz scale, a haunting melody filled the air.

It was a simple question, was he ready to go back to work? And yet somehow the answer to this eluded House completely. Then suddenly, a thought struck him as House stopped playing in mid decrescendo while continuing to stare thoughtfully into space.

"I don't belong there anymore."

This thought in mind, House got up from the piano bench and over to his computer which was located only a few feet away.

Now, that he was on his way to finding the answer, it was time do research.