CHAPTER 5:

After enduring the hell of detox, House had his first session with the psychiatrist assigned to his case, Dr. Lorainne Scott. She was a thin, attractive, gray-haired woman in her early seventies who has pretty much seen it all in her lifetime. What she didn't realize was that she was going to be faced with her biggest challenge in the form of Dr. Gregory House. And what House didn't realize, was that this psychiatrist was far from boring which was a trait House loved in anyone with whom he came into contact. However, it was going to take a little coaxing to get the very complex Greg House to come clean with all that bothers him.

Sitting on a brown leather chair, House just stared out the window looking out into a flower garden in the office of Dr. Scott. With his elbow on the arm of the chair, and his thumb resting under his chin and his fingers resting on the side of his face in a fist, he seemed very distant and somewhat lost in his own world, much like he is when pondering a diagnosis.

It was then that Dr. Scott broke the uneasy silence by asking House an unusual question, "What are you thinking about?"

House with his usual sarcastic deflection answers her, "How I haven't had sex in about a month."

Dr. Scott counters by saying, "Not according your file. It seems you had delusional sex with your boss. You want talk about that?"

"I was watching porn before I went to bed. And since she happened to be the last person I talked to, she was the lucky girl…in more ways than one." He answered her jokingly, while giving a devilish wink.

Not one to be shocked by his comments, Dr. Scott answered him smartly, "Funny, the last time I watched porn I filled out my fantasies using a vibrator. Worked out much better than a delusion."

House gave her a sly smile and said, "I like you already."

"Good. "She answered. "Because I already know a lot about you, Greg House. So, nothing you say is going to shock me in the least…especially since I've pretty much heard it all in my seventy years on this planet. So, let's talk." She looks at some notes and comments, "It says here that when you were going through withdrawl you kept saying that you "needed her". Who were you talking about?"

Again avoiding the question he answers sarcastically, "My mother….I hadn't sucked on a good breast in awhile and withdrawl makes you quite thirsty."

"Fine….I'm not going to press you since you are a bit of a stubborn ass. But remember something, you came here for a reason Greg. And the only one who can really help you is you. If you continue like this and don't cut the crap, you're not going to get anywhere and you won't be able to practice medicine for quite some time. Is this really the situation you want to be in for the rest of your life?"

There is silence for a few minutes as House absorbs Dr. Scott's words. She reminded him of Cuddy in the way she was handling him…tough and with a slap of reality. She definitely was a perfect match for him in terms of her ability to handle his personality. He respected that, but he was still scared. It was only the second time that he would be confessing his innermost thoughts to a stranger. He'd tried to do it in New York until his plan was ruined by Wilson's discovery. Now, he knew this was his only hope. However, his heart and soul were two things he refused to easily un-cage. Therefore, he continued to deflect and keep his innermost thoughts under careful lock and key.

"Actually no. I envision myself in a situation where I'm surrounded by a bevy of big breasted hookers, feeding me grapes on an island while I'm sucking down one margarita after another." House says with dry wit.

"So, this is how you want to play House? Avoiding the issues and wasting another day of freedom? " I've got all the time in the world. How much do you have? Dr. Scott questions.

Looking at his watch he remarks, "I'd say about a good five minutes. That's when my next scheduled bowel movement is. Care to join me?"

Calm and cool, refusing to let him get under her skin she says, "Okay...that's fine. Just remember two things. One, that you are in charge of your own destiny and two...I'm the one who will be authorizing and signing the recommendation for you to practice medicine again."

"You know, you should really write greeting cards." He responds sarcastically.

"Well then...while I sit here and write my greeting card sentiments, you can sit here waiting until your session is up." Dr. Scott then proceeds to sit and jot some notes down in her file.

Waving his finger towards her notes he quips, "Make sure you write down disgustingly handsome, charming, witty, with blue eyes to die for. I want to use your notes for my next personal ad."

House then begins to sits there quietly as thoughts of Cuddy come pouring through his mind. He missed her terribly and had felt horribly about what had happened that last day though he'd never tell Scott that. As he sat there, he closed his eyes and transported himself to a world where he was by himself with a drink in his hand and a piano under his fingertips. He began to ponder about how Cuddy had saved his ass so many times that he'd lost count. And that if it weren't for her, he'd either be in jail, dead, or in some drunken, drug addicted state on the streets of New Jersey all alone in some refrigerator box. Of all the people in his life, she had this annoying ability to make him see reality while throwing the consequences in his face. And now here he was adopting his usual Mr. Congeniality attitude with Dr. Scott, while Cuddy continued to drift farther away from him. Although he understood that reality, he just couldn't let a stranger into the depths of this rat maze of personal trauma he was experiencing...at least not yet he figured. It was just too soon.

Seeing House lost in thought Dr. Scott questions, "Do you have anything you want to talk about? A book? A hobby? The weather? You did still have twenty minutes."

"Yeah, this place have cable? Big monster truck rally this weekend. Figured if I can't have a woman, I can at least masturbate to my other favorite past time." He says with a smirk.

Not to be swayed Dr. Scott shoots back," Really? Mine's the cooking channel. You don't know how hot and sticky I get when I see a warm apple pie."

With a twinkle in his eye, House gives her a devilish grin.

There's a momentary pause until he then says, "I know what you're trying to do. I'm not an idiot. You're game is trying to earn my trust by finding something we can both talk about to get the ball rolling, hoping that I'll somehow slip with some personal nugget for you to devour. What you failed to realize is that I'm pretty much a manipulative bastard. Even if I did talk to you, you'll never know what's real and what's not. You can't refuse to write it down, because it might be the truth or it might be a lie and it's your job to notate everything and decide what's what. I can play this game too. I've got less years on you and more stamina...just ask my last date. Question is...who's gonna win this game? You may have more experience, but judging by the wrinkles on your face and the arthritis in your hands, you don't have the energy. So, I guess we already know the answer to that question. You may have the time, but I guarantee you. You won't have the patience."

Dr. Scott just stared at him somewhat speechless, but not surprised. In fact she was even more intrigued. Like House she was into puzzles, but puzzles of the mind. Her instincts told her this would boil down to a mind game. Regardless, she was up to the challenge more than House realized. She knew he would be an interesting case, because of his high level of intelligence. She leans over, looking him in the eyes.

She asks, "Have you ever seen One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest? Let's just say I'm more McMurphy than Nurse Ratched."

This time House is left slightly speechless and intrigued until he utters," This is gonna be fun."

The session ended and House headed back to his room where he lay on the bed with a confetti of thoughts drifting though his restless mind. He enjoyed his ability to make things into a game so as to avoid boredom. He thought about Cuddy and her patience with him when he engaged in these mind games just to get a rise out of her. He always felt that she knew how to deal with him when things went wrong. She understood his insanity and obsession with the medical puzzle. Mostly, she's been there when he need her. Despite the fact that he'd hurt her so many times, she'd never abandoned him. Even when he got into the bus accident and put himself into a coma, she stayed right at his side so he wouldn't feel alone. That's when he started to feel guilty about not having told her what was really going on with him when he started to hallucinate. It obviously wasn't a question of trust, because he always trusted her. Then, what the hell was it? Well, deep down he knew the answer to that question. It was simply a matter of failure and weakness regarding his character, he thought. She'd always put her faith in him, and he'd failed her and himself. The mighty, brilliant Dr. House was nothing but a weak, pathetic shell of a human being. At least this is how House viewed himself at the moment. He's a dysfunctional lunatic who can't imagine how he has people surrounding him who care about his life, because he certainly didn't.

His thoughts then drifted to Amber and Kutner. He wondered to himself, "For all the lives I've saved, I couldn't save hers. Amber didn't deserve to die. I did. I'm not worth anything to anyone, but she was worth it to Wilson. Why couldn't I have died in that crash? It wasn't fair. It wasn't right. Someone with a promising life like hers is worth far more, because all I am is a self-loathing, self-destructive drug addict who causes pain to everyone around him. Sometimes I get so absorbed in my own personal problems that I miss things…..like Kutner. God Kutner! How did I miss that? I notice everything and couldn't even notice that he was in trouble. How does someone with a seemingly happy life put a bullet in his brain? I was supposed to be his mentor; and because I'm too big of a jackass, he probably figured he could never come to me with a personal problem because I'd mock him. I'm so pissed at myself for not seeing the signs. Two smart, young people gone too soon, while this miserable ass still lives to cause more misery. Great circle of life. Isn't it?. Their lives cut short and here I am...a miserable son-of-a-bitch still breathing after cheating death so many times."

As light from the moon softly lights his bed, House's eyes begin to open and close as he resists the temptation to sleep. He knows it's a losing battle, but before he does his mind jumps back to the night he went to Cuddy for help when he rejected the idea of a rehab facility. He couldn't let go of the fact that he was a coward at coming clean with her that night. He was saying to himself, "Instead of telling her that I needed her, I insulted her. Why did I give her a hint by telling her I quit rather than just saying I needed her help outright? I know that throwing something ridiculous out there usually gets her to start asking questions, but she was tired and wanted to get home to her baby. Why did I have to selfishly waste her time by having her try to decode my messed up mind? I know why. It was because I was just being an ass, since I resented the fact that I took a backseat to her kid. If I had just opened up to her….then I know she would have been there to help me. Instead my own delusional mind had to insert her into my life the way I wanted her to be, because I'm too closed off to the world to make it happen for myself and too obsessed with hurt and consequences to ever feel hope. Hope? What the hell is that anyway? It's an abstract emotion and a completely unattainable ideal, because hope always eventually ends in misery somehow. Misery may love company, but in my case I'd rather be alone wallowing in it. At least then, I can't hurt anyone and no one needs to worry about me...because I'm just not worth it. "

And with those thoughts cascading through the confines of his mind, he drifts off to sleep.