It was a typical day in the lobby of Princeton-Plainsboro, until the Dean of Medicine arrived. Having gotten her text, Wells was waiting across from the doors, right in her path. All normalcy ceased as Cuddy pushed him against the desk, garnering the attention of every doctor, nurse, and patient. "What happened in surgery?" she demanded.
"What—"
"House, you idiot! You operated on House, you killed him, and he's not in the casket."
"He should be, it's not my fault!"
"Walk me through it, Wells. Step by step."
"We were in surgery, we were removing the lesions, he seized; causing Chase to nick the brain. We fixed it," he added, raising his voice over the doctors' anger, "But he died anyway. I don't know the cause, there are a lot of factors. Old age, illness—"
"Incompetence!" Cuddy interrupted, and Foreman had to be refrained.
"It was a seizure. It was unfortunate."
"For God's sake, Wells, I don't care that you nicked the brain! His body has been misplaced! After you find him, you're fired." She turned to all of House's fellows. "Turn this hospital upside-down!"
They scattered. Cuddy turned and walked purposefully to the Lost And Found. "Dr. House's phone was turned in."
"Yes. I answered a call from Dr. Park."
"Which begs the question, why would you pick up?"
"Because I know Dr. Park's number. And I knew she was at his funeral. Her calling him was a little freaky."
Cuddy nodded in acceptance and her eyes moved searchingly about the lobby. Abandoning the Lost And Found, she walked in a direction her doctors hadn't taken. She peered into every unlocked room and peeked behind every curtain. But every patient looked the same in their hospital gowns and sock-clad feet. There were no ragged orange shoes to separate him from the rest. Her beeper hadn't gone off, and she could see Park milling around the lobby in a state of confusion. Cuddy walked to the chairs lined up in the hallway and sank down on the nearest one, lamenting that it wasn't a good idea to cry in public.
Her phone rang and she quickly answered. "Dr. Cuddy."
"You're not going to believe this. The deceased man is named Greg Hill."
"Thank you. That'll help." She hung up and muttered, "I hope," as she stood up and walked to the desk in the lobby. "I need you to check admitting for Greg Hill."
"On it." The nurse quickly complied. "Okay, there he is; room 84."
"Room 84?" Cuddy parroted in disbelief, and the nurse nodded. Cuddy walked through the lobby, still gawking in amazement.
Stepping into Greg Hill's room, she closed the door and walked to the bed; pulling back the sheet that obscured his face. And found herself looking down at her husband. Blinking back tears, she bent and kissed his cold forehead. "Goodbye," she whispered, and wandered over to the phone on the wall. She lifted it from the mount. "Please send Foreman, Cameron, Taub, Adams, and Park to room 84," she said, and hung up. Meandering to the chair, she sat down and stared at her dearly departed husband as the PA system relayed her message.
The first one to arrive was Taub, who nearly tripped once he caught sight of House. With a sigh, he went over to Cuddy and grabbed her hand. "Good. How you holding up?"
"About five percent better," she guessed.
"At least now we can have a proper funeral."
Cuddy forced away the tears. "The man in the coffin is named Greg Hill. And House was 84."
"Wow, that's...that's very weird."
Park breezed in, stopping as she looked over at Cuddy. Also entering the room, Cameron put her hands on Park's shoulders as she sidestepped her, walking over to House. She sighed and tried not to cry as she covered his face back up. "Well, at least now we can—"
"I know, I know," Cuddy mumbled, and Taub patted her shoulder.
"So...what do we do now?" Park asked.
"Now we have him brought to the funeral home," Foreman answered; and his unexpected voice made everyone turn to look at him, standing in the doorway.
"Like, right now?" Taub asked.
"I'm sure at least some of those guests are from out of town."
"They could be out of state, for all we know," Cameron added. "Some of the cars had suitcases and food in them."
"Just...give me a minute," Cuddy mumbled. Her eyes were closed and her fingers were pressed against her forehead. The room was completely silent. Cameron's eyes locked awkwardly with Foreman's and just when she thought it couldn't get any more uncomfortable, Adams walked into the room. She looked around at the people.
"Where's Chase?"
"Walking."
Adams turned in disbelief to Cuddy. "You kicked him out of your car? It's -10 outside."
Cuddy gave her a dangerous look.
"Want me to call Stacy?" Cameron asked.
"Yeah."
Cameron let herself out, sliding the glass door closed. She scrolled through her contacts until she got down to Warner, and tapped the call button.
"Cameron?" Stacy asked frantically.
"Tell them it's fine. He's here at the hospital."
"Oh, thank you. Thank you. What the hell happened?"
"He got confused with another patient, some guy named Greg Hill." Hearing Cuddy's voice elevate, she turned to look through the glass. Park was hovering by the bed, anxiously trying to get their attention.
"Are we still having the funeral today?"
"Yeah, show's still on. I have to go," she added, as Adams began to raise her voice. Cameron hung up and opened the door.
"This could've happened to anybody."
"Yeah, anybody stupid enough to leave their student unsupervised!"
"You know what, Adams, I'm not in the mood. Just get him back to the funeral home."
"You're not in the mood?"
Park bent, putting her face close to the blanket. She thought she could see it moving, but she couldn't hear breathing over their argument.
"Ladies, please. There are things we need to be doing," Foreman groaned.
"Oh, shut up," Cuddy said dismissively. Her comment was followed by a stricken silence—broken by a sudden clatter that frightened everyone. Cuddy's wide eyes went to her husband, whose hands were raised beneath the sheet.
Park pulled the needle from his foot and House began gasping. Cuddy stumbled over to the bed and pulled down the sheet to reveal House's pained face and shackled hands.