House yawned, spinning in his chair as he was trying to pass the time and doing whatever he could to keep himself from actually doing any clinic work. He somehow managed to avoid both Cuddy and Vogler this entire morning, and he was hoping to keep that roll going. Ever since Vogler came and took over as Chairman of the Board, Cuddy had been more strict around the hospital, and it was certainly starting to affect how House worked. It wasn't as laid back as it used to be; House was used to hiding out in the unused exam rooms in the clinic, and sure, Cuddy would always get on his case about it, but now she made it a point to find him if she hasn't seen him around the clinic in five minutes. How else was he supposed to take his naps now?

He leaned back in his chair, staring up at the ceiling before closing his eyes for a moment. A headache was coming on, but he couldn't pinpoint why. He either needed nicotine or caffeine. The door opened to his office.

"House…." Cuddy's voice rang out, causing him to groan in response. There was the reason for the headache.

"What?"

"I'll make you a deal," Cuddy started, noting House's extremely unorganized and cluttered office. "Hear me out-"

"Whatever it is… no. I've been hiding in here to avoid you."

Cuddy rolled her eyes. She knew he was upset with her lately, and she honestly couldn't blame him. She understood that it was a lot of change for him all at once, so of course, he was going to act out a bit. If it were anybody else acting like that, Cuddy knew well enough that she wouldn't tolerate this behaviour.

"Shut up and listen to me…. Vogler has invited us for dinner at his place."

"No."

"House, it's a peace offering."

"No! Nope. He's probably gonna poison me or something, so I'll pass."

"Wilson's going."

"Right! Like that'll change my mind," he said, "although I think it's a great idea that Wilson's going. He's more… outgoing than I am."

"He's asking for you to come specifically."

"Hold on a second," he said quickly, remembering that he had something that would be perfect at this moment. Cuddy folded her arms over her chest as she watched as House began rummaging through one of his messy desk drawers. "Wait…"

"House-"

"Wait!"

Cuddy let out a sigh, rubbing her forehead in exhaustion of whatever childish idea he was forming. Eventually, House found a harmonica that was loose in the drawer, causing his boss to glare at him.

"I thought I told you to get rid of that-"

Before Cuddy could finish her statement, House had begun playing the harmonica surprisingly well; well… as good as one could play the harmonica, anyway.

"Give that to me." She held her hand out as if talking to a misbehaving toddler who took something they weren't supposed to. She snatched it from his hands when he didn't give it up willingly. "You're going."

"I don't think my contract says I have to go out to fancy dinner parties with capitalists in my free time. Besides," he stood up, grabbing the red and grey tennis ball from his desk and tossing it back and forth between his hands. "I don't have any fancy clothes. Wouldn't be a good look."

"And the way you dress around here is a good look? Listen to me… you're going."

"I want time off my clinic hours if I do."

Cuddy let out a frustrated sigh.

"No. I can't keep doing this. You're going tonight, and you're finishing your clinic hours."

"See? You're no fun anymore." House tossed the tennis ball up in the air. "Ever since Vogler-"

"Stop. Stop blaming all your problems on Vogler. Maybe if you actually sit down and talk with him, you'll see that he's not that bad."

House rolled his eyes, turning his back to her as he looked out the window, looking down at the parking lot as an excuse to not have to make eye contact with his boss. Of course, she was right. If he had taken the time to talk with the new Chairman of the Board, maybe he wouldn't be in such a bad mood when coming to work now. House would never admit it, and he certainly would never allow his walls to go down long enough to be friendly to Vogler. If he did, he would lose the invisible battle in his mind. If he talked to Vogler about anything other than an argument, Volger would win and hold it over House's head. Nobody but House had this thought cross his mind, but that was enough for him to assume it was true.

"I'm not going," House finally said, squeezing the tennis ball in his hands in an attempt to help calm himself down.

It wasn't just the fact that going to Vogler's place for dinner that set him on edge, but clearly, House wasn't a 'people person' and did whatever he could to get out of social situations. Cuddy and Wilson were well aware of this, but they also agreed that House needed to get out more so he could get out of this isolation bubble he's been in most of his life. They figured if they could get him to go to this, it would be much easier for him to go out to other social situations. The difficult part was… getting him to go in the first place. Wilson had bet with Cuddy that they would have to bribe him with a large sum of money before he would even agree to go. Cuddy countered that bet with that she could get him to go without giving him anything in return. That'd be a big feat to attempt, but she was willing for that challenge; House needed to learn sooner or later that this behaviour of getting something in return wouldn't go over well in the real world.

"You're going, House."

He turned back around, once again fidgeting with the tennis ball by tossing it back and forth.

"I'll go… if I get my clinic hours cut."

"No."

"Then what makes you think I'm going? Especially since it's on my off time."

Cuddy sighed, folding her arms over her chest as she leaned against the wall.

"Because… I'm asking you to."

"What's that-"

"Do you realize how many hoops I jump for you behind the scenes?" House was about to say something, but Cuddy kept going. "How many times I've smoothed over patient complaints that could've resulted in a lawsuit? Or how many times I've protected you in board meetings? Most of the doctors think you're too young and immature to be in the position you're in, and I protect you. Every. Single. Time."

House let out a frustrated groan, hating the words she was spilling out. Why couldn't they just argue back and forth for a while until he eventually folded? Instead, Cuddy played the guilt-tripping card, and he hated hearing the truth. He had a strong idea of what Cuddy did to protect him, but there were a lot of things that she didn't tell him. That didn't stop her from playing that card, though.

"Okay! Okay! I get it!" House snapped, not wanting to feel any more guilt. "Fine! I'll go! But I'm not gonna be happy about it…." He huffed, sitting down at his desk again. "I also want my harmonica back." He held his hand out to Cuddy, who rolled her eyes but gave him back the stupid toy.

"Thank you," she sounded sincere, but he couldn't tell if it was genuine or she was still trying to guilt trip him.

House groaned as he sat across the couch in Wilson's living room, staring up at the ceiling with his arm draped over the back. He was displeased that he had to go over to Wilson's immediately after work to get ready for dinner at Vogler's. The whole day, he was in a bad mood; his team had taken notice of it, too, and made sure to walk on eggshells around him. They knew that when he was grumpy, he could get mean, and they didn't want to deal with that from him. House would even be willing to do overtime doing paperwork if that meant he didn't have to go to this stupid peace offering, but of course, Cuddy was standing her ground with her guilt tripping card. Almost like this was some sort of strange and unusual punishment.

A door from down the apartment hallway opened, and Wilson's wife, Julie, came out, fixing her earrings. Even though House didn't see her often, he knew she was also dressed up. However, he did notice something off about her.

"That's not fair," House said as she and Wilson came into the living room. "If you're going, then why do I have to go?" He whined.

Julie chuckled a bit as she walked past the couch.

"I'm not going, House," she told him.

"Would you like to? You can have my invitation." Wilson lightly smacked his arm, causing him to yelp in surprise.

"Hm… no thanks. I'd rather go out with my friends tonight anyway."

"And I'd rather stay home and do nothing, so…."

"It's going to be fine," Wilson told House, giving him a small glare.

While Wilson and Julie were saying their goodbyes before Julie walked out the door, House tilted his head to the side as he watched them. It was a small thing he noticed, but he couldn't help but see that Julie wasn't wearing her wedding ring. He couldn't tell if Wilson noticed the same thing, and he wasn't sure if he should bring it up. He tried thinking how Cuddy would present it to him if he came to her with advice. So he decided to keep his mouth shut, even though it would bug him all night. Obviously, it wasn't his business, but he was nosy when he knew he shouldn't be.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard the front door closing.

"Romantic," House said sarcastically as Wilson returned to the living room.

Wilson only rolled his eyes in response, not wanting to get into this debate with his best friend again.

"Here," Wilson said, grabbing a folded shirt from the counter and tossing it to House. "Wear this."

When he didn't hear anything from House, he looked over at him to see that he was holding the shirt up to look at it. Wilson didn't like how eerily silent he was being; usually, he always had something to say, no matter how stupid or off-topic.

"What's wrong?" He asked, his tone changing to that of a caring tone. "Is it the material?"

"What? No. No, it's fine." House sat up, slipping on the black button-up shirt. Even a simple button-up looked better than anything he had in his wardrobe; maybe this was a sign that he needed to get a wider range of clothes.

Wilson felt his face turning red. He had to turn away from House, pretending to look through the mail on the counter so House wouldn't notice that he had been looking briefly. He would never let that go and hold it over his head for the rest of his life. He cleared his throat, turning back to see that House had changed his shirt; he had to look away from him again, throwing whatever he was holding in his hand in the trashcan to distract himself.

House fidgeted with the top button, struggling to button it up. He huffed in frustration, which only made his mood worse than it was before he showed up at Wilson's place.

"This is stupid, I'm not going."

"What's your problem now?" Wilson questioned, turning back to him, seeing him struggle. "Here… just…." He moved over to House, buttoning his shirt for him. He could feel him watching him, which only caused Wilson's face to turn slightly red. "There."

"Wow… I didn't have to ask for help with that one," House started with a smirk as Wilson moved away from him. "It's that easy to get your hands on me, huh?" Wilson closed his eyes, letting out a slow breath, not wanting to deal with his jokes right now. He should have known better, so that was on him, and he'd admit that. "Don't act like that! Your face is red."

"That doesn't-"

"Y'know…." House started, sitting on the back of the couch. "If you want to ditch the dinner bullshit and give me a blowjob in the bathroom, I wouldn't mind."

Wilson stared at him, trying to decide what to say. He was usually quick whenever House made these types of 'jokes.'

"Oh my God…." House said with a huge smirk, leaning forward. "You thought about it!"

"I didn't say anything!" Wilson defended himself, his face now burning red. He knew that House was quick and could detect any differences in how he responded.

"Exactly! You didn't say anything! You always have something to say. Now I wanna go!"

"Jesus, House! I'm not doing that!"

"That's fine! All that matters is that I know you thought about it."

Wilson mumbled something under his breath, grabbing his phone to text Cuddy that they were on their way. He wasn't exactly thrilled that he had to deal with House after he knew this information. The one thing that Wilson knew was going to happen was certainly going to happen. House was going to hold this over his head and never let it go.

When they arrived at Vogler's huge home, House took his phone out again, sending yet another text. He wasn't usually someone who was constantly on his phone, but something was causing him to become glued to the device.

"Everything okay?" Wilson questioned him, knowing the fact that House wasn't someone who was always on his phone.

"Fine…." House mumbled. His playful attitude that he had before they left Wilson's apartment changed into one that showed he was determined on figuring out something. Almost like he was trying to solve a medical case. "Just…." He trailed off, sending another text. "Team got held over. Another case." He dropped his phone to his lap, looking at Wilson. "I think this would be a great reason to leave and go back to the hospital, right?"

Wilson only shrugged.

"Good luck trying to convince Cuddy of that."

House frowned.

"You don't believe me."

"I didn't say that." He paused a moment, looking up at the home to see Cuddy standing outside, giving him a look as if questioning why he and House were just sitting in the car. "Look… I'm sure they can handle one case without you."

House sighed, putting his phone back in his pocket, knowing that Wilson was right. He looked over and noticed Cuddy as well. Of course, he knew his team could deal with this on their own; he wouldn't have hired them if he thought otherwise; as long as they sparked their brain cells together, surely they could produce some sort of diagnosis without him.

"Let's just get this over with…." House said as he got out of the car, not waiting for Wilson to say anything else. "I told you I'd show up!" He called the Cuddy as he lit up a quick cigarette.

Cuddy rolled her eyes yet was surprised that Wilson was actually able to get him to dress up in a nicer shirt. She would never admit it, but she was glad that he gave in and showed up without too much of a hassle.

"Wow. You did one thing that I asked of you; I'm impressed," Cuddy joked with an eye roll. "Maybe that's something we can make a habit."

"Don't hold your breath…." He took one more inhale of the cigarette before tossing it on the ground. He was about to make another comment about how he'd rather have a failed lobotomy than be here, but before he could, his phone started to go off.

"Don't even think about it," Cuddy warned him.

"Oh, c'mon… it's work-related."

She glared at him, not at all believing him. And why would she? House would say and do anything to get out of this.

"It is!" House tried to convince her, not doing a very good job. "See?" He handed his phone over to the texts that his team was sending him about a case at the hospital that they were forced to stay over for. "With that in mind, I should head back-"

"You're not going anywhere." Cuddy only skimmed through the texts before giving his phone back.

Whether or not it was legit, she honestly couldn't care less. For all she knew, House could've bribed his team to make it seem like there was a critical patient just to get out of this. It would be an incredibly terrible thing to lie about, but honestly, Cuddy wouldn't put it past him for trying a tactic like that.

"If your team can't handle one patient by themselves, then maybe they shouldn't be working for the hospital."

House looked at Wilson, who had been silently watching the exchange but only shrugged at House, not wanting to step on anyone's toes. He was always split in the middle between their arguments, so he chose to stand back and let them figure it out for themselves.

"Listen… it'll take a couple of hours of your time, then you go home and… do whatever it is you do," Cuddy sighed before going back inside.

"…go home and do nothing," Wilson finished for her with a slight smirk before they followed her inside. House rolled his eyes; he didn't like hearing the truth out loud.

"Did he text back?" Cameron questioned as she entered the conference room next to House's office.

"No…." Chase mumbled, checking his texts again.

She sighed as she sat down at the table. They've all had a long day, both physically and mentally. It was rare that they had to stay over on a shift, but without their boss here to help point them in the right direction, who knows how much longer they were going to stay. However, if they had to choose between staying for a long night and going to Vogler's place for dinner, the three of them would rather stay at work. They couldn't help but feel bad for him.

Foreman entered the conference room, bringing coffee back for the team while he was on his quick break. He needed to step away before he strangled Chase with his stupid ideas.

"Any more ideas?" Foreman questioned.

"We start from scratch?" Cameron stated before standing up to go over to the whiteboard. She erased the crude drawings that House had drawn of himself as a stick figure hanging himself. She rolled her eyes, remembering that he said he'd rather die than go to Vogler's place. "Symptoms are…?"

"Headaches, nausea, vomiting nonstop…." Chase started, counting off his fingers as he began to list what he could from the top of his head. "Basically anything that would make House say… 'send them to the clinic, not our problem.'"

"Yeah, but when nothing that they're doing is easing the symptoms, doesn't it become our problem?" Foreman questioned. "Patient's been to their doctor a couple of times and had to go to the ER because of severe dehydration."

Chase began tapping one of the fidget toys he stole from House's office against the table as he watched Cameron write the listed symptoms down on the board. He wanted to say that most signs pointed toward a migraine or even a cluster headache. Still, if the patient wasn't responding to any sort of treatment, then, of course, it wasn't going to be that simple.

"Meningitis?" Chase wondered out loud.

"No… it would've been on the CT scan. No inflammation or swelling…." Cameron stated, writing it down before crossing it out. "Nothing came up when the ER did the scans."

"Could've changed?"

"I think we should do another one just to be sure," Foreman added.

Entering the dining room, House stopped when he saw Stacy standing there, giving him a small smile. Nobody told him that she'd be attending the dinner; otherwise, House would've actually bought nicer clothes to wear. He turned around to leave the dining room, not wanting to be in the space as Stacy, only for Wilson to grab his shoulders and spin him around so he couldn't leave. Stacy thought the interaction was strange; she thought a lot of her interactions with House were a little odd. At Times, it seemed like he wanted to be in her company, but other times, he ignored her and barely looked at her.

"Is there any alcohol in this place?" House practically whined as he was forced to walk back into the room.

"No, no alcohol," Vogler stated. "That's not why we're here, House." Even though Vogler had claimed that this dinner was a 'peace offering,' he was sure to throw House a glare as he said this.

House huffed, somehow knowing that there wasn't going to be any alcohol made his already terrible night only made it worse. Time was already feeling like a painful crawl, and they'd only been there for a few minutes. At least alcohol would've made things more interesting. At this point, House is acting like a bratty teenager forced to participate in a family dinner, and he is fully aware of that. Like a bratty teenager, he didn't want to be there. He let out a small, annoyed groan, only for it to be replaced by a small yelp when Cuddy pinched his ribs.

"Behave," she hissed lightly before sitting at the table, giving Vogler a tight smile as to apologize for House's behaviour.

House only rolled his eyes as he sat next to Wilson, only to look up to see Stacy sitting across from him at the table. He closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a frustrated sigh. He was going to have to bug Cuddy about making sure he was getting paid for his time here, as he would rather be doing anything else than sitting in the same room as Vogler while it was supposed to be his time away from work.

Vogler cleared his throat as he stood at the head of the table. As soon as he began to talk, House felt his phone vibrate in his pocket; he made sure to peak up to make sure that Cuddy or Vogler weren't focusing their attention on him as he took it out. When his phone screen lit up, Wilson couldn't help but look down to see what he was up to, only to roll his eyes slightly as he tried to focus on what Vogler was saying. Even Wilson couldn't help but silently admit that he wasn't listening to what the new Board Chairman was saying; he didn't particularly want to be here either. Vogler was rattling off about something about numbers, stocks, and funding; nothing of which House cared about as he was trying to quickly text Chase back.

Cuddy cleared her throat loudly to get House's attention.

"What?" House asked loudly as he looked up, not realizing that nobody was asking him anything and that he had accidentally interrupted whatever Vogler was talking about. "Wh… oh…." He noticed the glare that Cuddy flashed him. "Sorry, sorry, go on," he said to Vogler before slumping down in his chair, trying to focus on what was happening.

As soon as he began speaking again, House couldn't help but smirk as he sent Wilson a quick text. He watched Wilson from the corner of his eye as Wilson couldn't help himself from quickly checking his phone from underneath the table. Wilson didn't give any sort of reaction to what was sent to him, which almost made House feel disappointed, until Wilson found the right moment while Vogler's back was turned to kick House's shin.

"Stop it," Cuddy hissed quietly at both of them while Stacy tried to hide her smile as she turned her attention back to Vogler.

"We're going to do a team-building exercise," Vogler said as he turned back around.

House let out a loud groan, burying his face into his arms, which were laid out on the table.

"What's the matter, House?" Vogler asked, sounding innocent as if he had no idea what the young doctor's problem was. Of course, he knew that this was like pulling teeth for him.

"Nothing!" He said, moving to sit back up. "I'm just… so happy and thrilled to be doing this instead of anything else!"

"I thought the ER already ran these tests?" The patient questioned as House's team moved around his hospital room, getting him prepped.

"We just need to be sure that nothing's changed," Foreman reassured him with a small smile. "Can you confirm your first name and date of birth?"

"Daniel. March, 16th 1992." Daniel watched the three doctors, noticing that none of their name badges matched the doctor to whom he had been told he was assigned. "I thought… Dr. House was my doctor?"

Chase looked at the others.

"Yeah… uh… Dr. House is very busy right now. He's being updated with everything that's happening and working closely with us." As soon as Chase said this, he turned his back and took his phone out, only to be disappointed that House hadn't gotten back to him yet. Great, he just made himself out to be a liar. "He wants us to rule everything out so we don't miss anything," he reassured the patient as he prepared to draw some blood.

House had scribbled something down on the small piece of paper that Vogler had passed out to everybody. Apparently, the point of this team-building exercise was to write something down about themselves, and everyone else had to guess who that note belonged to. This was the most pointless activity that House had ever had to participate in, and he couldn't believe that Cuddy was going along with it. That money must have meant a lot to the hospital. House wished that he had known that they'd be playing pointless and stupid games tonight; otherwise, he would've taken his Adderall so he didn't feel the overwhelming feeling of digging out his own eyeballs.

"Done!" House said loudly, quickly standing up from his chair. "I need a smoke break."

"Sit down!" Cuddy hissed.

He let out a loud whine, burying his face into his hand as he slumped down into his chair. He didn't want to do this anymore; House had to let out a loud huff as he was unable to control how frustrated he felt from sitting here for too long. He wanted to rip his skin off from how unregulated his emotions were at this moment.

"Please… How much do I have to pay to get this night moving along?!" House blurted out, looking at Vogler, who rolled his eyes. In fact, it was a surprise how calm and collected Vogler was this entire evening with House in his home.

Wilson let out a sigh of his own, pinching the bridge of his nose while Cuddy glared at him. This particular team-building exercise was that they each had to write something about themselves on a piece of paper, and everyone had to guess which fact belonged to who. If House could do anything he could to move this along faster besides playing along with this stupid game, he would do it. Even if that meant he had to give Vogler money. The amount of frustration that House was feeling almost made him want to cry as he couldn't for the life of him sit still. Having Cuddy and Wilson appear to be against him at this moment only made things worse, as they typically would cater to him so he'd feel better and prevent him from having a meltdown.

"We're almost done, House," Vogler oddly reassured him.

House let out a loud huff, throwing the folded-up piece of paper in the middle of the table, bouncing his leg as he became increasingly impatient.

"You're acting like a child…." Cuddy whispered to House.

"I'll get over it," he hissed back.

Stacy took one of the pieces of paper from the centre of the table. When she unfolded it, she had to purse her lips so she didn't laugh at what was drawn on the paper; clearly, it belonged to House. She put it on the table, covering it as she cleared her throat; she was just as bored as House was, but at least he was making the night entertaining enough for her to get through it. Looking at it again, she had to be sure she was seeing it properly; it was a poorly drawn stick figure hanging from a ceiling fan. Lovely.

Chase felt his phone go off in his pocket, and he quickly pulled it out, hoping that House would be giving them the answer to their problems. He only frowned.

"Not meningitis. try again."

Even through text House was still being an ass about being helpful. That was the one thing that annoyed the team; even if House didn't have the answer, he always pretended he did to make sure he stayed the smartest person in the room.

"Apparently, it's not meningitis," Chase told the team, tossing his phone onto the table in frustration.

"Explains why the treatment wasn't helpful," Foreman stated with a sigh as he sat back in his chair. "How's the patient doing?" He asked Cameron, who had just walked into the conference room.

"Patient has a subcutaneous cyst on the back of his neck," she stated.

"Was that… there before?" Chase questioned, fidgeting with the pen he was holding as he was trying to think back.

Cameron only shrugged. She felt like an idiot; that was something they should have found sooner, as it wasn't exactly a small cyst. Apparently, it was extremely painful to the patient, so surely it had to play some sort of role in what was going on with him. Chase reluctantly texted House back with an updated list of symptoms being displayed by the patient, praying that the answer wasn't standing right in front of them.

"I think it's time to move onto the next team-building-"

House let out a loud, overdramatic groan as he put his head back on the table again.

"This is even worse than torture! I would rather take actual torture at this point!" He leaned back up, sitting back in his chair as he was beginning to get impatient and wanted to go back home.

"House, go take a smoke break," Cuddy finally gave in. She had barely gotten her sentence out before House stood up and went out to the back deck.

Cuddy cleared her throat before looking at Vogler, who wasn't impressed by House's behaviour during the night.

"He gets overwhelmed sitting for too long," Wilson tried to help smooth it over.

"I think I need to get some air if that's okay," Stacy asked Vogler, who nodded.

While House was standing out on the back deck, leaning against the railing, he took the opportunity to take a swing at the flask. The door opened behind him. He quickly hid the flask before looking over his shoulder to see that it was Stacy.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare ya," Stacy said softly, standing beside him.

"Never," he joked. She held her hand out to him as if asking for something, which confused him. "What?"

"I'm not stupid. I know you have a flask."

"Did Cuddy put you up to this?" Stacy gave him a look, telling him that he needed to hand it over. House huffed, putting the flask into her hand, mentally preparing for Cuddy to come out and yell at him for sneaking alcohol. "Didn't take you to be a snitch, but-"

House paused, watching as Stacy opened the flask and took a swing of it.

"A snitch?" Stacy questioned with a smirk. "Not at all. I'm sick of his stupid dinner party just as much as you are. I figured you wouldn't mind sharing your alcohol."

House only nodded, looking away as he took a drag of his cigarette. Stacy couldn't help but let out a small huff.

"You seem distracted tonight."

"Distracted? No…"

"You're a terrible liar."

House was silent for a moment before he chuckled a bit. He wasn't used to anybody else but Wilson calling him out on his lies and bullshit, and he couldn't help but respect Stacy for doing so.

"Yeah… you got me." House took his phone out of his pocket, checking his texts to see that the team had texted him a couple of times to update him on their patient. "My team got held over."

"I'm sure you'd rather be there than here."

"That's an understatement."

They were both silent for a moment, taking in the peace and ambience noise from the backyard. It was almost comforting for House to have somebody outside with him, something that he only felt when being around Wilson. It was odd for him to feel this way; he was always relatively closed off with everybody. Honestly, he couldn't imagine himself being able to sit in silence with even his team, and he'd known them longer than Stacy.

Stacy couldn't help but chuckle.

"Is that why you're so fidgety tonight?" She questioned.

"I'm always fidgety."

House let out a sigh, burying his face in his hands. It was nothing against Stacy; he enjoyed the silence between them, but having to have a conversation was like pulling teeth, only because he didn't know what to say and he could feel himself being boring. There were times when he could put up a sort of mask that allowed him to be over-energetic and ramble on about nothing to make himself interesting and the centre of attention, but this evening in a new environment was exhausting him.

"Sorry," House mumbled, flicking the cigarette butt into the yard. He wasn't sure why he was apologizing, and Stacy didn't understand either, but he felt the overwhelming need to.

"What for?"

"I… have no idea," he replied with a slight chuckle. "For being stuck here, I guess."

"It's not all that bad. You're certainly making it entertaining."

Even though it was dim outside, House tilted his head away from Stacy so she couldn't see his face turning red. He rubbed the back of his neck as a way to fidget.

The sliding door opened, causing House to snatch the flask from the deck railing and hide it once again. Vogler was standing there silently for a couple of seconds, watching the two of them before approaching.

"Sorry to break this up," Vogler started, sounding sincere, but an undertone hinted at his annoyance. "Stacy… would you mind giving House and I a moment?"

Stacy looked at House for a moment, who only shrugged in return. The tension in the air as Stacy left was almost suffocating when only Vogler and House were left on the deck. House didn't bother looking at the man as he stared down into the yard in hopes that maybe he'd go away if he didn't acknowledge him. Then again, it was Vogler, and Vogler did his utmost to annoy him, it seemed.

"I'm having a lovely time…." House finally stated sarcastically, looking at Vogler from over his shoulder. The man had a way of making House feel uncomfortable just by silence alone. "Although, I still dunno why I had to come. This seems more like a Wilson and Cuddy thing."

"Because you're one of the top doctors at the hospital," Vogler said, "of course I'd have you join us. Although… it seems like you're not taking this seriously."

"Oh, no, not at all. Maybe you could convince Cuddy to let me bail and go back to the hospital."

"Not a chance. If you and your team are as great as you make them out to be, then they can handle it without you. In fact…." Vogler trailed off, moving to stand next to House, who refused to look at him as he stared out into the field. "I've run through your department numbers…." He pulled a folded piece of paper from his pocket, holding it out to House, who stared at it for a moment before snatching it from him. "Your department is eating up most of the hospital's expenses, next to the legal department. From what I've noticed, you are the cause of these high numbers."

"What's your point?"

"In order to balance out these numbers to get us out of the red, you'll need to cut someone from your team."

House was silent for a moment, staring at the paper; suddenly, the words became a jumbled mess, and he couldn't understand what he was looking at. Did he hear him right? That's not how that worked.

"Excuse me?"

"You have until the end of the month to fire somebody from your team," he said more slowly as if House was an idiot who couldn't comprehend his words. "Understand?"

House glared at him, gripping onto the paper tightly.

"Does Cuddy know about this?"

"Of course she does… it was her idea."

House went silent again, a buzz of thoughts going through his mind, and he couldn't make sense of any of them. This was Cuddy's idea? There was no way that was true. Cuddy wouldn't do that to him, would she? Eventually, he crumbled up the paper into a ball before throwing it into the yard below, letting out a huff, feeling himself on the verge of a tantrum. House was doing everything he could to keep his emotions under control; he knew that Vogler would love the opportunity to see that he got under his skin.

"I understand that you don't like her choice and you're upset," Vogler continued, poorly trying to hide his smirk. "Cooperate tonight with no more outbursts; otherwise, I'll make that deadline the end of the week instead. Do you understand?"

House literally had to bite his tongue, looking away from him to keep his words to himself and not say anything that would cause him to lose time on how to convince Cuddy to change her mind. He drummed his fingers on the deck railing, trying to find any words to say that wouldn't screw him over, but he couldn't think of anything. The only thing he could do was nod in understanding, and of course, seeing House finally submit and not argue was only boosting Vogler's power trip.

"Atta boy," he said sarcastically, patting House's shoulder roughly before returning inside.

"Call House!" Foreman shouted as he was trying to stabilize the patient as he was having yet another seizure, although this one seemed different than the others. Before the seizure hit, the patient appeared to be in a state of psychosis, not understanding where he was or what was real or not, even though he had been coherent just moments before.

"He won't answer," Cameron stated, trying to call their boss again, only for their calls to either be ignored or bounced to voice mail. "Dammit, House…" she mumbled, staring at her phone for a moment until it buzzed.

"CT + Brain biopsy."

She stared at the text for a moment, debating whether to text back and ask if he was serious or not. This patient has had two CT scans since he's been at the hospital, and now a biopsy? She wasn't sure what he was chasing now, but they were running out of ideas.

"Uh…" she started, turning around to see that the patient had stabilized and was getting a small sedative for the psychosis. "House wants another CT scan and… a brain biopsy."

Chase and Foreman looked at each other before back to her in confusion.

"Is he… sure? Why does he-"

"I don't know, that's just what he texted." She showed them her phone.

Throughout the rest of the night, House didn't say a word and was actually behaving. The sudden change of behaviour caught Cuddy and Wilson off guard; he was sitting silently eating his dinner, barely looking up as his mind wouldn't stop racing back and forth. He even somehow contained his leg from bouncing from his anxiety about the choice that he had to make; he was furious and was having a difficult time masking it. He finally bit down on his thumb as he was becoming overstimulated by all the small noises in the room.

"How's your team doing?" Cuddy asked House as Vogler excused himself from the room.

House didn't even act like he had heard his boss speak to him. While there was a small rational part of his brain that was telling him that surely it wasn't her choice that he had to fire one of his team members, but he couldn't make that connection fully in order to control any outbursts.

"Who cares? They'll be fine," House mumbled that Cuddy could barely hear him.

"House…." Wilson said softly, as a way to warn him that he was coming off as a jerk.

"They will…" He rolled his eyes slightly.

"Look…" Cuddy started, making sure Vogler wasn't coming back just yet before continuing, "I understand you're not happy about spending your evening here, but-"

"I said they can handle it!" House snapped loudly, causing Cuddy to flinch. She never heard him snap like that before.

"What's going on with you?" She asked calmly, even if she wanted to snap back at him. Cuddy was one of the few people who understood how to navigate through House's meltdowns. "If you're feeling overwhelmed, go step outside-"

"Yeah, right," he said sarcastically. "Like you care about me or my team."

"Stop," Wilson hissed quietly, not understanding why he was acting like this.

"What's your problem?" Cuddy questioned, growing more irritated with House's behaviour throughout this entire night.

"You're my problem!" He almost yelled, of course, just as Vogler walked back into the dining room. He huffed as he looked at Vogler, who had a smug look on his face as he had just witnessed another one of his outbursts. House cursed under his breath, not even taking notice of the confused and hurt look on Cuddy's face. "Goddammit, I'm going home!"

"House, sit down," Cuddy tried to stop him as he stood up, swaying slightly, noticeably now that he had some alcohol in his system.

"He can go home if he wants," Vogler finally said. "I'm sure he's got a lot to think about."

"Fuck…" House mumbled before leaving, slamming the front door behind him.

Chase looked at his phone again as they were waiting around for the tests to get back to them. House had texted him, saying to pick him up, so he could only assume that the night didn't go as well as anybody had hoped. Letting out a sigh, Chase called their boss.

"What?" House snapped as he answered the phone. Chase never took this to heart; he understood that House must've had a rough night.

"How am I supposed to pick you up if I don't know where you're at?" Chase said as a small joke to lighten the mood.

House let out a huff before hanging up. Seconds later, Chase had been sent House's location. Guess he was going to pick him up now.

House paced back and forth, waiting for Chase to pull up; it felt like forever until he pulled up on the side of the road. House checked his phone one more time before getting into the car to see that Wilson and Cuddy had both been texting him about where he had gone. All he could do was roll his eyes and turn his phone off, slamming the passenger door shut.

Chase was silent, looking at House, who didn't say a word to him. He didn't have to say anything; Chase could smell the alcohol off from him in an instant. It didn't help that House downed the rest of the flask while waiting for him to show up.

"You alright?" Chase finally asked, breaking the deafening silence.

"Fine…" he mumbled. "Go back to the hospital."

"The hospital? House, you've been drinking-"

"I don't care."

"You can't work while you're drunk!"

"I'm not gonna work… I just wanna see the CT scan. You guys are obviously missing something, and I can't diagnose over text."

"No, I'm taking you home."

"No."

"I'm not arguing-"

"If the patient dies, then it'll be your fault," House snapped. Chase was silent for a moment before letting out a sigh. "That wouldn't look good for Vogler, would it?" The way he said it, Chase couldn't tell if he was being sarcastic or not.

"What're you talking about?"

"Don't worry about it."

They were silent again as Chase rolled his eyes as he drove them back to the hospital. Now that he thought about it, he'd never seen House drunk before, so he couldn't tell if he was always this snappy or if something had happened during dinner. Surely, since he was sitting drunk on the side of the road waiting for him to pick him up rather than getting a ride home from Wilson.

"I assume it didn't go well?" Chase questioned, trying to get him to open up more.

House sighed as he leaned his head back against the seat, staring out the window. There was a small better judgment telling House to keep his mouth shut because he didn't want his team to worry. Wilson wasn't here, though. He was the one person he vented everything to, and right now he was about to explode from frustration that he couldn't care less about who he told.

"No," House said simply. "You…" he let out another huff. "Listen, you're good at your job."

That was the first time House had ever said anything remotely nice to him about how he was doing in his profession. He wasn't someone who gave out praise of any kind, so something as simple as saying that Chase was good at his job was a huge compliment.

"Oh… thanks, House."

"Yeah, yeah, shut up."

House let out a sigh, closing his eyes for what only felt like a moment until Chase shook him lightly to wake him up. They were parked out in front of the hospital. Chase was about to say something to him, but House didn't wait long enough for him to start talking before he got out of the car, practically stumbling up to the door.

"Get back in the car, House. I'm taking you home," Chase stated, changing his mind. It was a stupid idea to bring him here; he was drunk and could get in trouble for this.

"I need to see the CT scan," he said, ignoring him.

"Jesus…" Chase mumbled as he followed his boss to the conference room.

Cameron and Foreman were looking at the new CT scan when the door to the conference room swung open loudly, causing them to jump when they saw House enter with Chase trying to talk to him.

"Are you…" Foreman started, trailing off as it was clear that their boss was inebriated.

"Tipsy, "House finished for him, snatching the two CT scans from the table and comparing them quickly. "What am I looking at?"

"House, let me take you home," Chase tried again, only to be ignored.

"There's a small cyst in the brain," Foreman started. "We had to sedate the patient from psychosis symptoms. Look, we got something new to work with, go home and get some rest-"

"That wasn't there before. Did the biopsy come back yet?"

"Yeah-"

He snatched the image, holding it up to get a better look. It only took him two seconds to notice the small, white rings that were visible. They were small, but there was no doubt that they were there.

"See?" He pointed them out after placing them back on the table. "What is it?"

Obviously, it was an outside presence…

"Parasite."

"If it was a parasite, why didn't we see anything on the first CT scan?" Foreman questioned.

"It was."

Flipping back to the original CT scan, he pointed to a barely visible grey dot that was first believed to be a small shadow. The silence in the room was loud as they looked at what he was pointing at. It was an easy oversight but something they should have looked into further. The team couldn't tell if it was the alcohol that was causing House's lack of remarks or if he was annoyed with them to the point that he didn't have any to say.

"Get the patient in for surgery to get the cysts removed. Niclosamide. Maybe some anticonvulsants if the seizures get any worse. Okay?" House moved away from the table, rubbing his tired eyes.

House didn't want to deal with this anymore; he needed to go home to sleep this off and make a difficult choice.