Drugs

AN: "The internet is mean!" - Me

Wednesday morning rolled around and looked quite dreary.

House's leg was cramping up due to his night on the sofa, and he'd had a restless night due to the pain. It was a lose-lose situation for him.

He reached over to the table to find an empty Vicodin bottle, still half asleep he lazily limped over to his closet to look for another bottle in his trusty blazer pockets.

As he shoved each one aside he only found three bottles out of eight.

Only one person could've done this…Wilson.

House padded into the kitchen and started bashing pots and pans in retaliation to Vicodin thief.

Within House's bedroom the electronic clock showed it was 6:30, Erica and Wilson both awoke to the sounds of metal on metal.

"Jim, there's someone in the apartment." Erica whispered shaking his shoulder.

"It's just House." Wilson mumbled into the pillow.

"Why would he be in the kitchen?" she asked.

At that question Wilson sprung up out the bed.

"He must have a baseball bat somewhere…" Wilson said as he scoured the room for a heavy object.

"Jim, just get out there already. Your fists should do as weapons."

"What happens to people who don't know how to use their weapons?"

"They die."

Wilson turned around and gulped, as he shuffled forward out of the door he took a glance at Erica who was sitting on the edge of the bed, with the duvet wrapped around her torso.

"Hello?" he called out into the darkness. Instantly the clanging metal stopped.

As Wilson inched towards the kitchen and cane struck out and pinned him against the wall.

"Where are they?" House asked in a threatening voice.

"Where's what House?"

"You know exactly what I'm talking about! Where are they?"

"House you're sounding like a madman, what are you talking about?"

"My Vicodin. Where have you hidden it?"

"House I don't even know where you keep it, let alone steal it and hide it." Wilson said trying to move the cane from its pinning position.

"You must know where it is. There is no way that I have had five bottles of Vicodin without knowing it."

"You have been taking them excessively for the past few months." Wilson explained.

"Don't make me out to be a drug addict here; I know I had eight bottles in here on Monday. Now there are only three." House said releasing Wilson from the wall.

He began to pace the living room in thought.

"Unless I moved them…" House thought more to himself than Wilson.

Wilson rolled his eyes and entered the bedroom to inform Erica it was her brother making all the noise.

"Why is he even up?" she asked.

"Something about Vicodin going missing…he thinks I hid it y'know." Wilson said looking over to Erica.

"Why are you looking at me?" she said innocently.

"Well I've been at work with him, so the only person who has been here on their own is you."

"Are you suggesting I stole from my own brother?" she asked appalled.

"No…I was just implying that you may know there whereabouts of his painkillers."

"Did you see how many bottles he had in there?" Erica said revealing her theft. "He had too many. He's an addict James! An addict!"

"You don't think I know that?"

"Well it doesn't look like you've done anything about it…All you're doing is giving him what he wants!"

"What else am I supposed to do Erica? Watch him suffer in pain everyday?"

"Help him!"

"How? Replace the missing thigh muscle? If that were possible I would've done that already!"

"Y'know I used to be a drug addict…"

"What?" Wilson asked taking a step back from the bed.

"You heard me; I know what he goes though."

"You don't know what he goes through…he's in pain. I doubt you did drugs because you were in pain."

"But his addiction is getting out of control! We need to decrease his intake or something…"

"It's just pills and he won't overdose on them…"

"He might on morphine!" Erica shouted. It was a little too loud for her liking.

"Who told you I had morphine?" House asked sliding round the door.

"I found it…" Erica replied quietly.

"You went through my stuff?"

"I was looking for the hospital phone number…"

"Where did you hide them?"

"I'm not telling you!"

"Erica. Tell me where they are…"

"You need help…"

"I'm in pain!"

"So Wilson keeps telling me!" Erica yelled frustrated. "Tell me Greg…has there been one day, when you went without them?" Erica said slowly standing up in front of him.

"Yeah. A while ago…"

"Anything happen to you that day?"

"No." House lied.

"You liar! I went cold turkey when I was addicted and I got all the symptoms of withdrawal." Erica shouted "You're a doctor; you must know what they are. How about Vicodin withdrawal?" she asked spitefully.

House remained silent.

"How about you Jim? List the symptoms for me. Maybe it'll jog Greg's memory…"

Wilson looked over in pity to House and started listing the symptoms of Vicodin withdrawal.

"Restlessness, muscle pain, insomnia, vomiting, loss of appetite, nausea and sweating."

"You must remember that day James. Did any of that happen?"

Wilson looked over to House, then over to Erica. He wasn't sure whose side he was on.

He wanted House to cut down on his Vicodin consumption, but he could also understand why House needed his drugs. He was so confused.

Wilson made his mind out and walked out of the apartment leaving the addicts together.

The difference was, one was clean, the other wouldn't admit to the problem.

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