"Cuff up. You got a visitor." This terse announcement was accompanied by a harsh, loud knock on his cell door.

Startled out of his reverie, House responded by silently limping to the door, turning his back, and sticking his hands out of the food port to be handcuffed.

Now that he was in solitary, handcuffs were not an option when being escorted anywhere outside of his cell. Hell, he was lucky he even got visitation at all. It was up to the prison staff to determine when and if inmates in solitary confinement (also known as the Hole) could see visitors. Most of them didn't get that luxury. For most of them, visitation was simply too risky. Everyone was entitled to see their attorney, but most inmates in the hole were not entitled to any other visitation. The warden decided to allow once a week visitation for House because he wasn't violent and because the only visitor who ever came to see House had been thoroughly screened. Wilson's visits to this point had been uneventful. As long as they remained uneventful, House would be allowed to continue once a week visitation with Wilson.

House walked into the little visitation booth looking like a ghost. His hair was shaggy and a little on the wild side. His beard needed a trim. He didn't look like he'd lost any weight but he was noticeably pale. He was limping more heavily than usual too. Wilson hadn't seen him look this bad in a long time. House sat down across the table from Wilson with his hands still handcuffed behind his back. They're not even going to let his hands free, Wilson thought.

"Guess you know I got locked up," House said.

"You're already locked up."

"No, I mean LOCKED UP locked up. I got thrown in the hole."

Wilson just looked at him and didn't say anything.

"Don't you wanna know why?"

"Will it make any difference?" Wilson asked.

"No. I saved a guy."

"You save people all the time."

"I did an emergency tracheotomy in the guy's cell and diagnosed him with mastocytosis by giving him five aspirin."

"Congratulations. Pretty ordinary for you. Why'd they lock you up?"

"Because I wasn't supposed to have access to the guy's file and because my way of confirming his diagnosis was not in the prison's policy book of acceptable diagnostic techniques."

"You mean you stole his file and did the test against his wishes."

"No. I actually didn't even want to see the guy in the first place. He kept coming to me with various aches and pains. Then things got interesting but I still never asked to see his file. The clinic doctor gave it to me. The medical director caught me with the file in my hand and it didn't matter that I didn't take it."

"So why didn't they want to do the trigger test? It's just like allergy testing. No big deal as long as they have resuscitation equipment handy," Wilson said.

"It's the same old thing, Wilson. You've heard it before. It's practically my motus operandi. Considering the fact that I'd already had to do a trach or the guy would have died in my arms, he needed to be diagnosed as fast as possible. Dumbass medical director wanted to do a blood test. We all know blood tests have to be very specific to diagnose mastocytosis and the fastest way to diagnose it is to go through the list of known triggers and see what triggers the reaction. Well maybe we don't ALL know, but I know. The guy almost suffocated after eating hot food and drinking coffee. Heat is a trigger. So is aspirin. Dumbass clinic medical director would have sat there and let the guy die while running meaningless blood tests. His lackey agreed with me about the diagnosis but initially chickened out when I suggested the test. I told Dr. Dumbass he was a moron and a coward, went over to do it myself, three brutes tackled me, and then his lackey did the test. I got thrown in the hole but I was right."

"And you knew the consequences but did it anyway."

House looked at Wilson like he had four heads. "Of course! Doing a blood test when chances are pretty damn good the moron didn't even know what protein markers to look for would have been pointless. You know it and I know it. Even his lackey knew it. I couldn't just let him continue to get worse when the fastest way to diagnose him was sitting four feet away from me."

"But you knew before you did the test that if you did it, they might revoke your bail, throw you in solitary and you'd wind up here longer. You would have faced additional charges too if the patient didn't agree to the test and it was done against his will."

"Of course. The guy begged me to give him the aspirin. He said he almost died once and if taking aspirin was all that was required to establish a diagnosis, he was willing to take the risk. Wilson, it was his risk to take."

"Well, I hope it was worth it."

"I was right and the guy is better BECAUSE I was right. You remember when Vegetative State guy hung himself in that hotel room and donated his heart to his kid? He asked me what I would like to hear from my father on his deathbed. He wanted me to pass on a message from him to his kid. I said I wanted my dad to tell me "You were right. You did the right thing." Well I did the right thing. Compromise is wrong."

After a few moments, Wilson said "Ok. Apparently it was worth getting thrown in solitary and possibly lengthening your sentence. I don't even have any idea if you can still bail out, but I have your bail money. Will they let you keep that much cash in here or how do I handle that?"

"Well let's ask Mr. T over there. Hey, Alvarez, take me up front. I'm bailing out today."

"I gotta take you back to your cell and get your caseworker. Need to make sure they didn't revoke your bail or change it after you got put in solitary. Sometimes that happens. You gotta go back to your cell first. Sorry, but those are the rules."

"Yeah, and we all know how important rules are. Gotta follow every one of them. I want to talk to my caseworker now. Here. In the visitation room."

"No can do. Caseworker comes back to your cell. Once you're in solitary, that's the rule."

House glared at Alvarez. Alvarez glared at House and made a move for his radio.

"Ah, put that down. I'm going peacefully," House said as he struggled again to get up from the chair with his hands handcuffed behind him. "Not too comfortably, though. Come on, Alvarez, you see me struggling here. You got my hands cuffed behind me. Give me a hand."

Alvarez did so, but carefully. He knew that inmates could lure guards into a vulnerable position and then attack; even disabled handcuffed inmates were not above attacking a guard when the situation presented itself. Over the years House's upper body strength had become much more developed than a typical adult who walked normally. All that cane usage gave him a lot of arm and shoulder muscle development, particularly on the right side. Once in awhile it also caused his shoulder to ache unmercifully. He was truly nobody to fool with. Alvarez was just acting with appropriate caution when he approached House slowly.

House wasn't about to mess things up any more than they already were. He had no intention of doing anything violent. He actually respected Alvarez and anyway, his bail money was sitting two feet in front of him in Wilson's briefcase. After Alvarez helped him to his feet, House made his own way slowly and carefully back to his cell, sans cane, with Alvarez following closely behind.

Once House was gone, Wilson let out a breath that he didn't even realize he was holding. Drama always followed House around like a puppy following its master. Slowly, Wilson rose to his feet and went out to the prison lobby. He put in a request with the desk sergeant in the lobby to see House's caseworker.

"Sorry, he's with a client now," the desk sergeant said. "It looks like he's got clients all morning long. I will let him know you're here if you'd like to wait."

"I have no choice BUT to wait. I need to talk to the caseworker ASAP," Wilson said resignedly. "Which client is he with now?"

The desk sergeant looked at Wilson as if to say I really, REALLY wish you would shut the hell up and leave me alone. "I have no idea and if I did I wouldn't be allowed to say. All I can do is let him know you're here." With that, the desk sergeant text messaged the caseworker: "A guy in the lobby needs to talk to you ASAP."

From caseworker: "What inmate is he here about?"

From desk sergeant: "Inmate House 020406."

From caseworker: "That's who I'm with now. Tell him I'll be out to see him in about 20 minutes."

"Mr. Wilson? The caseworker should be out to talk with you in about 20 minutes," the desk sergeant announced at the top of his lungs to the only guy waiting in the waiting room – Wilson.

About 40 minutes later a decidedly inexperienced and nervous young man came out to meet Wilson. He looked to be fresh out of college. Some young liberal do-gooder. This is a good place for do-gooders but I guess he just got a good dose of House.

"Hi, Dr. Wilson? I'm Alan Smith, Dr. House's caseworker. I'm a social worker trained to work with inmates and help them navigate the prison system. I met with your friend."

"And you managed to survive. Good for you. I have his bail money. I need to know how to bail someone out."

"Well now, we need to talk about that. He's on the phone with his attorney now. As far as I know, his bail is still the same and he should be able to bail out today. Here's how it works. You can't give him the money. Inmates are only allowed to use the money they came in with, which we have locked up in the property room. Since the money was not in his possession when he came in, he can't have it now."

"I guess that's why you look so nervous. He must have given you holy hell about that."

"Yeah, to say the least. He says it's still his money even though he didn't come in with it in his pockets. But I've heard worse from other inmates. The steps are: First, we wait for approval from the court for him to bail out, which he's taking care of now with his attorney. Second, once the approval comes down from the court and they confirm the bail amount with us, you go to the cashier's window over there and post his bail. Third, after we've confirmed with the court that the transaction is ok, which usually takes just a few minutes, you get a receipt. He gets a receipt and all the other court documentation he's going to need for his court appearance, because he still has to go to court. Bail just gets him out of jail until his court date. He still has to be tried in court for his charge at whatever later date the court sets. After everyone gets the appropriate paperwork, he changes back into street clothes and we prep him for release. Assuming his bail is okayed by the court, the whole process takes about an hour. I would stress with him, though, since he seems to care about what you have to say, that if he fails to appear for his scheduled court date, he'll be re-arrested and then the chances are very likely he won't be able to bail out. He can't miss his court dates."

"You said he 'cares about what I have to say'. What did he tell you?" Wilson asked, slightly guarded and suspicious.

"Conversations between myself and my clients are confidential and the only other person with any right to know what was said is the client's attorney. I can tell you that he insisted I explain the whole bail process to you, step by step. I can tell that he's very detail oriented and he didn't want any details to be skipped or missed. He did seem very worried; no more so than most other inmates in the same situation, but he kept insisting that I explain all the steps to you and make sure you knew exactly what to do."

"House thinks almost everyone else is a moron and a liar. He trusts nobody, so I'm not surprised he insisted you explain every little God-forsaken damn detail to me like I'm a kindergartner or something. Well, now I know, so I guess the next step is just wait until I hear from an official about the bail, right?"

"Next step is I go back and contact the judge who set his bail. As soon as I can get through to the judge or the court clerk, I'll find out about the bail. Sometimes they fax that information back right away; other times it takes hours, depending on how busy they are. I'll be in touch with you directly. It's reasonable to wait here if you can."

Alan left abruptly because his phone was ringing. His conversations had to be as confidential as possible so Alan made a dash for his office to continue this conversation on his cell phone.

"Approved? How much?" Alan said. "Ok, I'll be waiting for the fax."

Ten minutes later the fax from the circuit clerk's office arrived on Alan's secure fax machine. House's original bail agreement was still valid. He could bail out today.