CHAPTER 11-DETOX
I was finally feeling better after the donut incident. I was just heading back to my office after a meeting when I couldn't open the door. Something was blocking my path. I stepped back, put my hand on the knob, and shoved my shoulder into it. I heard a muffled groan and a thud, looked down, and stepped over a large mass to get inside. The room was extremely dark, and I gasped when I turned on the light. "House?" My friend was slumped over on the floor, eyes barely open, using his jacket as a pillow. "House what's wrong?"
"I tried not to," he said, moaning.
"Tried not to what?"
"To use the cane," he groaned loudly. "It hurt."
I sighed. "Obviously, House."
"Wilson…pills…." He pointed across the room to where the orange bottle lay on the floor. I picked it up and poured some in his hand, watching him down them dry as always. I gave him a minute before I started asking questions.
"House, why did you try to walk without the cane?"
"Isn't it obvious?" I shook my head. "I wanted to be better for…" he trailed off.
"Cuddy," I whispered, running a hand through my hair. "Oh, House. Sometimes I just don't know what to do with you. Just…talk to her."
"I can't." I just looked at him.
"House I am so tired of this crap you try to pull. You talk to anyone and everyone, Cuddy is no different."
"But she is."
"Yeah, OK House."
"This is your fault, Wilson."
"What are you talking about? House, I am so tired of this. You need to take responsibility. You always blame anything and anyone but you," I lectured, jabbing a finger at him. He threw open the door and slouched out with his cane. I was on the verge of having absolutely no idea what was going on.