Chapter 36

"Hey!" House struggled against his restraints, pissed off for being strapped to a bed.

"Somebody get in here and unleash me!" This is one joke that isn't going to end well, he thought. "Not funny!"

Sheryl entered, all serious. "Stop yelling before they send up security."

"You're in on this. Who put you up to it, Wilson?"

"Put me up to what?"

"This," his voice held the edge of panic. A little bondage could be fun, but not in this situation.

Sheryl looked around to reassure herself that no one else was in the room. "This," she said, arms gesturing to all things in the vicinity, "is my job. This is a hospital, I am a nurse, and you are a patient."

"Two out of three. Not bad."

"Wanna try for best of seven?"

"Just untie me."

"No can do." She kept her distance.

"Joke's gone far enough."

"No joke."

"You're in on this with Wilson."

"When I transferred to psych ward I figured I'd be rid of you."

"Okay, I get it. Humility. Lesson learned. I've been humbled. Moving on."

"I gotta get a new job."

House sighed impatiently. "Undo these restraints now," he growled through gritted teeth.

Sheryl was spared a response by Dr. Cuddy's arrival.

"Stop giving the staff a hard time," she ordered as she entered.

Before he knew it, she was shining a damn light in his eyes. "I wouldn't have to if you'd just leave me alone."

"What do you remember?"

She was all business. It didn't seem right. "What do you mean?"

"What's the last thing you remember?"

"Aside from the crazy nightmares-"

"You remember your dreams?"

"Just bits and pieces. Oh wait…now I understand. Thirteen."

"What about her?"

"She set me up."

"Paranoia is normal."

"I'm not paranoid." He was insistent but could see Cuddy didn't believe him.

"House, this is not a prank. You're sick. You've been here for two days."

"Ha ha, not funny. No way I lost 48 hours."

"You were sedated for a few and slept through to now."

"I don't sleep." His voice betrayed a little bit of longing mixed with disdain.

"Well you did. We've got an EEG to prove it."

"I'm not going to believe any of this."

"The stress you've been under, the sleep deprivation…too much Vicodin, and then Dr. Hadley giving you a little something extra threw your system into chaos."

"That explains the trippy dreams - but not why I'm shackled to the bed. My wrists aren't slashed and I'm pretty sure I haven't put a bullet through my brain. I'm not a threat to myself."

"Never said you were."

House was contemplative. What in the hell happened? The two main reasons patients were restrained were if they were a threat to themselves or someone else. That meant…

Cuddy saw the realization dawn on his face and nodded.

What have I done? And to whom? House searched his thoughts.

"I think you should talk with Dr. O'Connor," Cuddy was hesitant. She knew House would scoff at the suggestion.

Instead he nodded absently.

A little while later Greg awoke from sleep to the unmistakable sound of a thumping cane. He looked over to his right where Roz was sitting, his cane between her legs as she bounced it up and down.

"Snuck out to see how you're doing."

"Just peachy."

"Figured as much. Wish I could spring you."

"Me too."

Roz sat back in the chair. The cane was gone, replaced by the large tennis ball that she bounced against the wall.

"You're mocking me."

She threw the ball away in anger. "No. If I were mocking you I'd be rambling on about what an idiot my patient is and asking you if you've been faithful to Cuddy."

"I'm not out of my mind because I have neurosyphillis or any other STD."

"Why would I have an STD?"

"You wouldn't." Greg was flabbergasted.

"No, YOU wouldn't."

"See, you ARE mocking me."

"That's your perspective." With that Roz disintegrated right in front of his eyes.

"Cuddy!"

"He's calling for you in his sleep. I'm not sure if we should wake him."

Lisa frowned into the phone. "Are you sure he's not being a pain in the ass and pretending to be asleep?" Sure House had been hospitalized before from just about everything major she could think of, but he never seemed so out of it - like his mind and body were in different realities. She barely heard what the nurse was saying. "Let him sleep."

Minutes later she was heading into House's office where Foreman had set up temporary residence.

Upon her entrance he looked over from the computer screen. "What's up?"

Cuddy paced nervously, wringing her hands. "Could we have overlooked a pathological reason for his delirium?"

"He's had a CT, MRI, EEG, blood cultures, a tox screen and everything else that could give us a diagnosis." Foreman's voice was definitive, yet he too hoped there'd be an epiphany of some sort.

Cuddy stopped pacing long enough to ask her next question. "Have you checked for STDs?"

"Of course." Forman noted her agitation. "Twice."

"No nasty germs to cause his symptoms?"

"Not even one brain eating prion. Face it, this is a medication exacerbated psychological issue."

"I don't know what's worse: hoping he's being poisoned by something or knowing it's psychological."

Eric stood, frowning. "Knowing House, he'd rather be poisoned."

"I wish I could tell him he was."

When House did finally wake up, he was exhausted. He barely had the strength to turn his head to see the figure sitting in the chair next to the bed. He expected to see Cuddy and was confused to find Thirteen napping, precariously curled up like a cat.

"Sleeping beauty."

Remy stirred, realized where she was and snapped to attention. "Hey."

"If you don't want to get caught sleeping on the job, I suggest Room Two in the Clinic. The table's quite comfy."

"Wouldn't want to encroach on your fortress of solitude."

"Is it still the same day it was the last time I was awake?" Again with damn penlight.

Remy was more or less giving herself a reason to be there.

"I've either had a stroke, have a brain tumor or everyone's purposely trying to blind me."

"At least you know who you are."

"I know I've got a bunch of idiots for a Team."

"You don't know what day it is or why you're here. You don't think that's a problem?"

"The problem is: you dosed me with something that made me forget and put me here. As far as I'm concerned, I'm the victim."

"And Wilson?"

"Foreman said something about that. Still don't know what he's talking about."

"What do you remember?"

"He said I nearly killed Wilson. It's a bit vague if you ask me. I assume he was being metaphorical. After all, Wilson couldn't survive without me."

Remy tried not to smile. "I meant what's the last thing you remember after I gave you the shot?"

"I went to sleep."

"Then what?"

"I woke up here."

"Nothing else?"

"Just some bits and pieces of dreams."

"Anything violent or-"

How did she know? "Look Dr. Freud, the last time I checked, your CV didn't include a PhD in Clinical Psychology."

"Nice deflection. Means I struck a nerve."

"Not a neurologist either - and dating a neurologist doesn't count."

"Double deflection. Nice."

"Don't you have clinic duty or something that's not directly related to torturing me?"

"But I'm having so much fun."

"Go have fun at someone else's expense."

Remy bowed in obeisance. "As you wish. She headed for the door, but couldn't resist getting the last word in. "Since you're all tied up with no place to go, I suggest you focus on the dreams. Maybe your subconscious is trying to tell you something." She winked at him conspiratorially.

Although he would never admit it to Thirteen, she had a point. Greg closed his eyes and searched his recent memory bank for the nightmares. He had been dozing, lucidly dreaming, when someone knocked on the glass doors before entering. He opened one eye just enough to see who it was.

"Greg, it's Dr. O'Connor. Time to wake up and confront reality." Lynn dropped her briefcase next to the chair then stepped to the bedside so he could see her clearly.

This can't be good. They think I'm crazy! He didn't say anything, just scowled. She stepped down to the bottom of the bed and pulled the covers aside to get to the restraints. Within seconds he was free to stretch his legs. Greg waited impatiently for her to free his hands.

She registered his disappointment. "Sorry, not ready for any repeat performances."

"Can't repeat a performance if you don't remember it . Are we really sure whatever it was happened?"

"There are at least two witnesses." She tucked him back under the covers.

"If they were anyone who knows me personally, then it's a ru-" Why did I chose that word?

"You think this is some kind of subterfuge?"

House's eyes widened with fear.