A/N: Thanks to OldSFfan for the first review of this story! And also thanks to JackslovesHilson for the beta!

House was led back to a small examination room and helped-more like manhandled-onto the exam table. The nurse smiled at him, sickly sweet in lavender scrubs.

"The doctor will be in to see you in a few minutes," she grinned and left the room.

He was alone now, and he didn't like it. He found himself wanting Wilson by his side, although he'd never admit it. Wilson always knew what to say. He rubbed his leg. It was already starting to hurt.

After a few minutes of waiting, a short, Asian man with rectangle, wire-rimmed spectacles came in. He smiled slightly at House. "You are Dr. House?" he asked with a slight accent.

House didn't respond, assuming correctly it was a rhetorical question. "I am Dr. Lei. I'll be your physician here."

"Great...just great. When can I leave?"

"We're not going to worry about that right now. Right now, I'd like to check your heart and lungs. Would that be OK?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Well...yes...but…"

"Just do it."

The doctor checked his lungs and heart as promised, and pumped a BP cuff on his arm. "Your blood pressure is a little high. Are you nervous?"

"No. I'm in pain."

"Is it bad right now?"

"It's always bad."

"What would you say your baseline is, on a scale of 1 to 10."

House sighed. "Six."

"Six on a good day or six on a bad day?"

"Six on an average day."

Dr. Lei nodded and wrote on his chart. "And you've been using how much Vicodin a day?"

House shrugged. "As much as I need."

"Which is…?"
He sighed. "80 mg a day. Sometimes more."

Dr. Lei nodded, seemingly unphased. "I have a muscular specialist coming in from our sister hospital to take a look at your leg and possibly recommend some exercises."

"I don't need a muscular specialist."

"She's very good; I think you may be able to benefit from-"

"No."

"Okay. Well then may I take a look?"

"No."

"Dr. House, we have to-"

"I said no!" It was enough being in rehab; having to admit he was an addict. He didn't need another doctor poking and prodding at his leg.

"Oookay then…" Dr. Lei agreed reluctantly, drawing out the word. "I'll just draw some blood and get you set up in a room then. Sound OK?"

"Yeah. Fantastic."

Dr. Lei helped him to a room with a window, a bed, its own bathroom...the works.

"Fancy," House quipped.

"Dr. Wilson said only the best for you. Would you like to get into bed?"

"I can do it," House said, and started limping to the bed.

"Um, no cane."
"What?"

"And no shoes."

"Huh?"

"No cane in the room. We can give you one if you need to get up, but we don't allow canes here. Patients tend to use them as weapons. And no shoes. You'll be more comfortable and they can also be used as weapons."

House sighed. He had to know this was coming. He just didn't want to face it. He surrendered his cane, and along with it, his independence. He also surrendered his shoes, which he hoped he'd get back because they were nice shoes.

"Thanks. Do you need help changing?" Dr. Lei gestured to the scrub-like clothing on the bed.

"No."

"Alrighty then, I'll see you tomorrow. A nurse will come in and get you started on an IV saline drip shortly."

House sat on the bed and started the slow process of getting his clothes on. He lie back on the uncomfortably firm mattress and stared at the ceiling. It would be a long week.