Original subtitles

Uh, I need a refill.

You already had three. So what? They are free

I got a birthday. Get it yourself.

No wonder he doesn't get any tips.

All right...

who's ready to sing the Ralphy's Rumpus

birthday rump shake?

Are you okay, man?

You okay?

Okay, all right.

Let's get you in the back. Come on.

It's gonna be okay, kids. Sorry!

Got a heartbeat.

Jack? Jack?

I need you to step back.

He's my brother. Jack!

Wake up! Call your parents,

tell them to go to Princeton- Plainsboro Hospital.

Our parents died.

He's all we've got.

I was not parked illegally.

I-I live here.

Love note from Detective Tritter.

(Foreman) Heart attack.

His cath was clean

and echo showed no structural abnormalities.

Fatigue, night sweats, weight loss

preceded the heart attack.

18-year-old kid, suddenly an orphan

and a single father of two.

Party of Five!

Powerful stuff.

The O.C. of its day.

Stress explains everything

except the itchy feet.

Athlete's foot covers that.

Waiters work 12 hours a day in old sneakers.

Hmm, good idea.

Ignore the symptoms. Makes our job easy.

I'm not ignoring a symptom.

I'm explaining a symptom.

(Foreman) Kid's been hanging over

a toilet, despite antiemetic therapy.

Persistent vomiting could indicate

increased intercranial pressure, tumor--

Sure.

Heart problems. It's gotta be the brain.

Thank God there's a neurologist in the room.

Right. It's the feet.

If only I were a podiatrist.

Probably caught an intestinal virus

from one of those feral kids running around.

Repeated vomiting causes an electrolyte imbalance,

which leads to an arrhythmia,

which leads to the heart attack.

And itchy feet.

Nope.

That's it? Nope?

I've said too much already.

This isn't a game, House.

No, it's not. But it could be.

What are you writing?

Nothing.

If you know the diagnosis, why don't--

How are you gonna learn to swim

and throw you into shark-infested waters?

You can't know what's wrong

after a 30-second perusal of his file.

Apparently you can't.

Now, what's a game without rules?

No, tag-backs, no biting.

You get one test each.

And the clock runs until lunch.

If I'm right,

he'll still be alive.

this is a very cruel game.

You're late.

I charge for the time you were supposed to be here.

Tritter towed my car.

He's frozen my assets. He's on a crusade.

You're a person of interest in a narcotics investigation.

You're linked to their suspect and his activities.

I'm not Pablo Escobar's evil henchman

cruising into Miami in a cigarette boat.

I'm a physician who prescribed Vicodin to a pain patient.

This police report you faxed me says

they found 600 pills in his apartment.

You prescribed those?

He's in chronic pain.

This is obviously an abuse of power.

Is that a yes or no?

Patients build up a tolerance over the years.

Perfect motive for him to forge those scrips.

I still don't have an answer. What, are we, like, role playing?

Yeah. And you suck at it.

Which is really unfortunate,

because you're pretending to be you.

I gotta get to court.

Michael told me you could help me get my car back.

Yeah, divorce lawyers usually know

the ins and outs of drug enforcement.

You want your car back,

you're gonna have to give the cops what they want.

Thanks.

Usually people feel helpless in these situations.

Dr. House is probably going to jail.

You keep on lying for him, you'll go right along with him.

House was on this page when he got that annoying

"I'm such a genius" look.

What's there? Patient history.

He's 18.

Probably drinks, smokes, does drugs.

How close am I?

Quit drugs when his parents died.

Quit smoking.

House didn't mock my viral idea.

He just said it was wrong.

Which means he didn't want to give reasons.

Which means I must have been close.

I'm thinking bacterial.

I'm doing a blood culture.

I am doing an MRI.

It there was a tumor, intercranial pressure

could cause his brain to herniate before lunch.

Same thing with your stress test.

Which is why I'm ditching it.

What are you doing instead?

Not telling.

Seriously-- you playing his game?

We're all playing his game. Might as well enjoy it.

Anybody else sick at work?

(Will) I had a stomach ache

before him.

This isn't your fault, Will.

Keep working.

My brother's in the hospital.

Mrs. Collier won't care if I finish my homework.

Your brother cares if you finish your homework.

Can I be your imaginary friend?

He's a doctor.

How are the feet? Still itch?

Um...is that important?

I don't know. Is it?

What kinds of drugs you into?

You don't have to talk about that right now.

No, it's okay.

I don't keep secrets from them.

They know I did drugs

before our parents died.

Clever. Admit the past.

Deny the present.

I'm clean.

I'm raising two kids.

It'd be pretty irresponsible, wouldn't it?

But confiding in an eight-year-old is okay?

If I'm open with them, then they'll be open with me.

Yeah.

Turning the other cheek's a good strategy in boxing.

Kids don't lie because they got trust issues.

They lie because they got something to hide.

Look at him, sitting there doing nothing,

and he's still lying.

We don't lie to Jack.

Spelling test you failed and forgot to--

No. Math test?

No. Fight with the kid sitting next to you?

He doesn't sit next to me.

The other one's probably having sex.

I am not! Yet.

When you start, you're gonna lie about it.

Colder.

I'm not playing.

Keep very still for me, Jack.

This won't take long.

How much dope did you smoke?

Does he have to be here?

No. Ignore him.

It's not his lungs. I never said it was.

What about the cigarettes?

How did you quit?

Gum, patch, hypnosis?

He went from two packs to nothing, cold turkey.

Or we could just make small talk.

You still seeing that nurse in Pedes?

I just don't think she's right for you.

You need someone...

detached, calculating, ambitious.

You need yourself in a skirt.

Jack, he asked you a question.

I didn't really quit.

I just sort of lost taste for it.

Hmm. Interesting.

Sounds like one of those symptom thingies.

He's still puking, and he had a heart attack

and itchy feet.

It's not his lungs.

I never said it was.

Brr!

Ice cold.

I'm injecting Ergonovine to see if your heart attack

was caused by a spasm

in the vessels surrounding your heart.

Let me know if anything feels...

unusual.

If the problem's around my heart,

why did that other doctor look at my brain?

Yeah, why did that other doctor look at his brain?

We're just trying to eliminate

as many possibilities as we can.

So because you think

the spasm caused his heart attack,

you're gonna induce another spasm.

Did you consent to this?

(Cameron) Everything's under control.

Tests are gonna identify which arteries are affected

so we can repair them.

Your meds don't seem to be doing anything.

So either you're wrong,

or his system hasn't been pushed enough

to set anything off.

You wanna get back home, right?

I mean, you're probably already falling behind

with the housework, the bills.

How many sick days do you think you'll get

before they replace you?

Heart rate's up, but nothing else.

They can't fire me if I'm sick.

Right, you're irreplaceable.

Who else would they find

qualified to dance with a rodent?

How can you even support your family?

What happens when those kids grow out of their clothes,

when they get sick?

Still no spasm.

They'll take those kids away from you, Jack.

Maybe I should bring them in here right now

so that you can kiss them good-bye.

Can't you see his heart is fine?!

Stop torturing him!

What kind of doctor are you?

(Cuddy) Wonderful, thank you so much.

Okay, bye.

You're just getting here?

Buses suck.

Where's your car?

It's a hostage.

Tritter wants me to testify against House.

You're not going to.

Is that a question or an order?

Any sort of conviction will cost House his license.

Which will cost this hospital.

Relax, I'm not gonna mess with your precious resource.

I told my lawyer to tell Tritter to go to hell.

Marco!

Why are all my prescriptions getting bounced back?

Sorry, Dr. Wilson. I was trying to call you.

Where's your phone?

In my car.

My patients, on the other hand,

are here and needed their medications.

I'm sorry, I can't.

Your DEA number's been suspended.

(House) Why so sad?

There's still a chance that Chase got it right.

Oh! That was suspenseful for about two seconds.

Blood culture

was negative for bacteria.

Positive for Hepatitis A?

Hmm, I wonder who could have ordered that extra test.

Must be somebody who knew what persistent vomiting,

sudden distaste for nicotine and itchy feet

have in common.

Hep A doesn't explain the heart attack.

No, but as Chase

so deftly pointed out earlier, puking does.

And Hep A explains the puking.

If this had been real life instead of just a game...

The DEA just revoked my prescription privileges.

Who's gonna prescribe my Vicodin?

Yes, well, that's why I'm here.

This is a disaster for you.

Relax.

Tritter's just getting desperate.

He's got no real evidence.

He's trying to squeeze you into ratting.

I'm not gonna let him squeeze my patients.

They'll be fine.

Most of your cancer medicine sucks anyway.

I'm gonna use your team to do my prescribing

till this is straightened out.

Suddenly this doesn't seem nearly as dramatic.

Go pump IVIG into the kid.

Cure him and get him out of here.

Hep A?

No.

"Chase,

"blood test for bacteria.

"Foreman, MRI.

"Too stubborn to check the lungs.

Cameron, nice try. No spasm."

(Jack) "But the princess sat and sat

and sat."

Pretending not to listen,

pretending to write in her journal

with the flowers on it.

Pretending she didn't like stories about eight-year-olds who save the world.

I'm 11.

Which is why you can no longer save the world.

I'm eight.

[laughs] Yeah.

We're all completely dependent on you.

Mornin'! Mornin'.

Good news.

We can take you off the IVIG.

The Hep A has cleared your system.

You'll be good to go by tomorrow.

Yeah!

How do you think I got it?

It could have been contaminated food.

It could have been from cleaning bathrooms at work.

Or it could have been...

Don't worry. They've heard it all.

Anilingus is a common way.

You should just tell the people

that you've dated they should get themselves checked.

Ohh.

Don't worry, I've been too busy chasing after these guys

to go spelunking.

You're gross.

I think.

Does your arm hurt?

Arm's fine, bro.

Then why is it bleeding?

It's not, it's...

Raise your arm above your head.

Your ear.

And your nose.

(Foreman) High PT and PTT on Jack's blood panel

confirm a coagulopathy.

So...we cure the Hep A...

and something else pops up.

Interesting.

What infections cause DIC?

You okay?

I hurt my shoulder playing Fantasy Football.

Shall we discuss what causes DIC,

or shall we just send the kid back to his miserable life?

He's not miserable.

Right. He's thrilled that his parents are dead

and his life is over.

The restaurant's probably teeming with E. coli,

Eikenella, and strep.

Kids don't wash their hands

between the potty and the party, and--

Or it's a food-borne toxin.

Jack eats at that cesspool every day.

Jack's the only one who got sick.

Kid's got tattoos, piercings, and probably

some nasty little girl loaned him the Hep A.

Could have also given him syphilis or gonorrhea.

I need one of you. Take Cameron.

Your idea was dumb, anyway.

Chase, I need you to head back to that cesspool

and get me the kid's puke.

Foreman, do an LP, and have Cameron run down

that potty/party theory.

Why don't I just test him?

Let's not discuss this in front of the help.

The amount of vomiting that kid did,

wouldn't be enough toxins left in this system

to show up in his blood.

Since he vomited into the toilet here

instead of on somebody,

that restaurant is our only source of essential vomit.

And you couldn't say that in front of Foreman?

No, I couldn't say this in front of Foreman.

I need a refill.

Detective Tritter knows about the scrips I wrote before.

Exactly.

If you stop now, it'll look suspicious.

Does anyone fall for that argument?

Write the scrip.

No.

One prescription isn't gonna make you--

We both know it's not gonna be just one.

I'd rather lose my job than lose my license.

Daniel Silvers,

prostate cancer, needs filgrastim,

two-week supply.

Andrea Donavan, breast cancer,

just needs her refill of her megestrol.

You're not writing.

You want me to write?

Well, you could phone them in.

But eventually, yeah,

probably somebody's gonna want something written down.

I haven't met these people.

I have.

I've diagnosed them and everything.

I know.

I know, I'm not saying I don't trust you.

Just my diagnosis.

These are gonna be my prescriptions, I--

They're my patients! My prescriptions.

My name!

That Tritter will read on the scrip.

He wants to make you miserable.

You don't think he's gonna ask questions?

Is there anything Jack does that no one else does?

Any special duties?

No, we got lots of bussers.

What kind of cleaning products do you use?

Well, we got a bunch of kids running around

sticking everything in their mouths.

So we can't use anything toxic.

That's it. Monday's trash.

So there's no one who can maybe...help get the bags out?

Sorry, short-handed.

I can tip.

I'm pretty sure Jack's puke

is in the blue trash bag with the wrapped gifts.

But if you find spaghetti, that's the wrong vomit.

How much longer do I have to stay on this medication?

I mean, I'm nauseous all the time.

Maybe I should go back on the tamoxifen.

You're doing so much better on the anastrozole, Beth.

I'm reluctant to make a change.

I can't play with my daughter.

Or pick her up from school.

I can barely get up and tuck her in at night.

There's got to be something else.

Who is she?

Well, as you know, this is a teaching hospital.

She's a student?

No, I'm a doctor.

I'm assisting Dr. Wilson today.

Why, do you think he got my diagnosis wrong?

No, I'm sure--

No, no.

She's just consulting

regarding my prescriptions.

You think he got my meds wrong?

No, it's just--

No. Then why is she here?

What are you doing now?

I'm gonna get a sample of your brother's spinal fluid.

Where's Will?

School.

Is that gonna hurt?

It's gonna help us figure out what's making him sick.

Shouldn't you be in class too?

Teacher work day.

For you, but not Will?

Yeah, it didn't make sense to me either.

Can I help?

Well, I guess it's quicker than calling a nurse.

And a truant officer.

Here, grab his shins.

Push his knees up towards his chest.

Now hold him there tight.

This all nurses do?

My boss doesn't trust 'em to do anything else.

Is he gonna die?

No.

No one's gonna die.

In the whole world, ever? That's so great.

Well, I meant--

I know what you meant.

But I also know bad things do happen.

My dad always had a few drinks when they went out.

Always said he'd be okay to drive.

Until he wasn't.

I would just like some warning this time.

We're nowhere near anything like that

happening right now.

Okay?

Let's scoot him back over.

Aah!

What was that?! [groaning]

What'd you do?

????????

Which means--ow!

Found it.

Fix it.

Osteomyelitis.

Means the infection's spread to his bones.

Which means it's either

bacterial or viral, and that--

Ow!

I hired you to take away the pain.

Is there some confusion?

You ever thought about using your cane

on the proper side?

Yeah, that's the issue.

Friday night, my cane suddenly noticed

it was on the wrong side.

Can you score me some Vicodin?

No.

I did a needle aspiration to confirm which--

How long till the cultures--

Gaaah!

Why do you only do that when I'm talking?

You gotta rest your shoulder.

And we're gonna get you on some different equipment.

Nice cane.

If I know what you mean?

Chase, you can stop doing that.

I'm almost finished.

He's got osteomyelitis.

Means you're wrong about food-borne toxins.

And...

you can stop too.

Syphilis.

You sure?

Read the printout.

He's also positive for Eikenella.

One of you two screwed up.

No. Not a chance.

Or this kid is a lot sicker than we thought.

Finish that test.

It should be impossible to get two right answers

to one question.

Is it okay to have three?

Apparently.

He's positive for botulism too.

(House) So...

we knock down one infection and three more pop up.

I think this game is rigged.

Jack?

Somebody help!

(Foreman) We've managed to clear

all three infections out of his system.

But now he's having seizures every few hours.

He's gotta be immuno-compromised.

No, white count was normal,

and he was negative for HIV.

Well, if he's not immuno-compromised,

why is he acting like he's immuno-compromised?

What do the seizures tell us?

Nothing, there were no structural abnormalities

on the CT, non-focal neuro-exam,

no electrolyte imbalance, nothing.

What do unexplained

seizures and really sick 18-year-olds

have in common?

You thinking trauma?

I'm thinking drugs.

He's an admitted user.

Drugs trashed his immune system.

Tox screen was clean.

Clean tox screen means there's no drugs

in his blood or urine.

There could still be drugs trapped

in his fat cells from the good ol' days.

If they're in his fat,

why would they be affecting him now?

A keen observer would notice

that he's had some digestive issues lately.

His weight loss could have burned off fat cells

and released the drugs back into his system.

(Foreman) There's no way to know.

It's impossible to test fat cells for drugs.

It's not impossible to make him lose more weight.

You want us to starve him

so we can drive him into another seizure,

and maybe a heart attack,

just so we can run another tox screen?

That'd be cruel.

Just sweat it out of him.

I haven't touched a thing since the night my parents died.

Drugs stay in your system a long time.

I was high...

the night the cops came to tell us what happened.

You know the first thing I did when they told me?

I laughed.

I'm not the person I was when they died.

I wish they could see that.

Well, I'm sure they're watching,

and I'm sure they're proud.

That's what Will's guidance counselor keeps telling him.

What do you tell him?

I tell him it's crap.

Our parents live on in our memories,

but they don't live on.

(Foreman) Jack?

(Cameron) Hold him still!

Don't break his arm.

We'll fix it.

We need to get a sample.

House.

Bad news.

Look at you.

Couldn't have sent Cameron down here

to this air-conditioned hallway

to deliver the bad news?

Jack seized again, but his blood was clean.

Completely drug-free.

So he just happened to have a seizure

at the exact time that we stuck him in a sauna?

It's not a coincidence.

He's still seizing every few hours,

whether we stick him in a sauna or not.

Oh, my God!

Why are you using that?

I've had it for years.

No, that's--

that's gonna make your shoulder hurt.

You need one of these.

He's a...doctor.

Is he still infection-free?

I'm sure not for long.

My point being that something other than those infections

caused these seizures.

That means there's something in his head.

Scan him. We scanned him.

Well, that was then. This is not then.

Kid keeps changing. Scan him again.

Where is Cameron?

I'm not writing you a scrip for Vicodin.

I've only got two pills left.

Cut 'em in half. Then you'll have four.

You're prescribing for Wilson. Wilson prescribes for me.

Write up a scrip.

You know you have a problem.

Yeah, it's got a badge and everything.

You're taking too much--

Fine! You're right.

What's the correct amount?

Write up a scrip for the correct amount.

No answer?

That's 'cause we're having the wrong debate.

This has got nothing to do with my problem

and everything to do with you avoiding a problem.

You're afraid that if you write me a prescription,

you're gonna wind up like Wilson.

Of course I am.

Tritter wants to win by giving pain.

Do you really want to be a part of that?

As a doctor, how do you do that?

[pills rattle] Here.

This'll tide you over.

If it can take the edge off my PMS,

it should do wonders for you.

Why are you looking at my head again?

Seizures usually indicate something neurological.

I'm not gonna get better.

Am I?

We'll know more after the test.

I've gotta find out who can take care of Will and Kama.

Let's not get ahead of ourselves, okay?

You'll be home, yelling at them and kicking their butts

before you know it.

This kid might be facing a terminal disease,

and he's more worried about his brother and sister.

(Chase) Brain stem's clean.

Nothing in the midbrain.

What's that?

The frontal lobe, upper-right quadrant.

I don't see anything.

There.

It's tiny, but... I think it's a tumor.

That size should be excisable.

Why didn't we see it earlier?

Oh, God.

Axial view, there's another one.

Bring up the next slice.

They're everywhere.

Jack's brain is riddled with tumors.

You know what he's doing?

Moaning?

Setting up play dates.

Wow, what a guy! Theories?

(Cameron) The obvious one.

Brain cancer destroyed his immune system.

Left him wide open for these infections.

House...you're pathetic.

You'll analyze anyone's faults,

hypocrisies, weaknesses.

But this kid's got some strength,

and all of a sudden there's no time

to talk about anything but the medicine.

He's teaching prepubescent kids that truth matters,

God doesn't, and life sucks.

I like him. Treatment?

We need to start him on radiation.

And destroy whatever's left of his immune system.

(Foreman) And safe his life!

I know the notion of self- sacrifice is foreign to you.

You wanna think that he's sacrificing himself

because if one person can do it,

then maybe the world isn't the cold,

selfish place you know that it is.

Radiation could kill him. Alternatives?

There aren't any. We saw the tumors.

We could choose to say they aren't tumors.

They're just pus.

Which would explain why they weren't there yesterday.

It can't be an infection.

He got IVIG, broad spectrum antibiotics--

Exactly.

It creates a perfect world for fungus.

Moves in, gets married,

has little fungi.

If you're wrong about the fungus,

you're wasting what little time he has left.

Not a big sacrifice. His life sucks.

So let's be right.

Go stick a needle in the kid's head.

If you suck out a liquid, then I'm right,

and we haven't answered anything.

If you suck out a solid, you're right,

and no more worrying about play dates.

Okay, fine. I'll father your child.

First, you gotta write me a Vicodin prescription.

Just so I can get through the foreplay.

How many days you have left?

Ah, I could probably get through maybe...next minute or so.

And your coming to me

means your lackeys actually

stood up to you-- I'm impressed.

Yes, their cowardice is inspiring.

Well, you should be thanking them.

If they caved, it'd give the cops evidence

that you intimidated underlings to feed your addiction.

[sighs] I hate writing thank-you notes.

Would it be weird if I asked Cameron to write them?

You're hooking me up?

Unfortunately, if I cut you off,

it'd give the cops evidence

that you don't really need the pain meds.

I knew that cleavage was a smoke screen.

You're a genius.

You can't lift your arm.

You can't pee standing up. Gimme.

You been doing physio? Maybe you pulled--

Yeah, been training for Pants Off Dance Off.

Gimme the scrip.

Your shoulder problem isn't physical.

Well, we'll find out if you ever give me the--

What's new?

What's different?

Any big changes in your life recently?

A fight with the wife, maybe?

It's good.

Means your shoulder's a human being.

It's a start.

I'm right, right?

Yeah. Just not about me.

I was right, right?

They were abscesses from a fungal infection.

Aspergillus.

But we still have no idea why.

Our kid's immune system has a factory defect.

It's genetic.

It can't be genetic.

He would have been getting infections

since he was an infant.

Not if he grew up in a bubble.

Or if he grew up on Mars.

No germs there, either.

I don't mean a literal bubble.

A sweet, suburban bubble where mommies and daddies

protect their children.

They die, bubble bursts.

Continuing emotional trauma triggers a genetic illness.

Question is, which one?

The infections he's contracted

narrow down the possibilities.

Hep A indicates a problem with his B cells.

Bruton's Agammaglobulinemia?

Eikenella.

So a complement deficiency.

I have a patient. I need--

Now now!

I'll go. You'll stay.

Patient's dying.

So is mine.

Not in the next hour.

What does the syphilis tell us?

What does it tell us?

It could mean Chronic Granulomatous Disease.

(Chase) And the aspergillus is a t-cell issue.

Common Variable Immunodeficiency.

Genetic testing's gonna take time.

Given the rate he's picking up infections--

Why don't we turn it into a race?

Little late to be playing games with us.

Not you guys. The infections.

What infections?

The infections we're gonna give him.

The only way to cure me is to make me sicker?

Each of the four possible genetic conditions

is most susceptible to different types of infection.

What's that?

This is a cocktail

of serratia, meningococcus,

cepacia, and rhinovirus.

Whichever germ gains the most ground

plants the flag of its leader,

gives us our answer.

How are you gonna know which one gains the most ground?

Well, now, that's the fun part.

See, if the meningococcus is king of the hill,

you get to have another seizure.

The serratia will shut down your lungs.

If it's cepacia, you'll have a heart attack.

If it's the rhinovirus, you'll sneeze.

Can't all be dramatic.

We good?

Hell, no.

Well, the alternative is we guess.

And there's a three out of four chance

that your little brother and sister

will get to cry over another coffin.

Did you study fractions in school?

We good?

Oh...this test

isn't exactly FDA approved.

So let's just keep it our little secret, okay?

Ahem.

Little Orphan Annie and Oliver Twist

slept in our hallways last night.

Are they singing?

They're children. They need a guardian.

Couldn't find a babysitter.

On account of not being able to make any phone calls

on account of not being able to breathe,

on account of his lungs filling up with serratia.

He has Chronic Granulomatous Disease.

Game over. Our work is done.

Then he's gonna keep getting sick.

You gotta call Social Services.

Bone marrow transplant would reboot

his whole immune system.

He'll be healthy enough to win

Miserable Daddy of the Year.

So see if one of his kids is a match.

My kids are already testing his kids.

(Foreman) Will's a match.

You tested him?

I never consented-- It's just a blood draw.

There's no danger.

To the testing. What about the surgery?

The risk for Will? It's next to nothing.

What if I don't do it?

What are my other options?

Your immune system can't fight off

the germs we all come into contact with every day.

Now that we know, we can use more targeted medications.

But...you'll still get sick all the time.

You'll be in and out of hospitals--

But I'll live.

Jack...

Your lifespan will be substantially shortened.

And you'll be too sick

to care for your brother and sister anymore.

You shouldn't have pressured him into--

There's no pressure. He's eight years old!

You tell him his brother's dying unless he helps,

what do you think he's gonna do?

He wants to help you.

He has no idea.

It's like you asked him

to let me play with one of his toys.

This is surgery.

He could die.

He'll be fine.

But you...

You're gonna have a hard time protecting him like this

if you're dead.

I'll do it.

When Will's 18,

and can decide for himself.

Noble.

Moronic.

It's a synonym.

Why can't you accept he wants to protect his brother?

Has to protect his brother. He doesn't want to.

He wants to run screaming from protecting his brother.

You're a hypocrite.

Evidence is everything.

Truth is all that matters.

Except when it comes to people.

Everything we've learned about this kid

says you're wrong.

But you can't accept that.

It's easy to reject the diagnosis.

Not so easy to reject your misanthropy.

Because then you'd have to give people a fighting chance.

And that... scares the crap out of you.

Okay.

Let's get some evidence.

It's your lucky day.

I just found another donor in the registry.

A perfect match.

We can do the transplant, no danger to the rugrat.

You just have to sign here.

Unless there's another reason you don't want it.

There's a chance I'd die.

A chance you'll be cured.

Maybe you don't want that, either.

Maybe hanging out in a hospital

and getting waited on hand and foot

reminds you of what life used to be like

before you were forced to play Mr. Mom.

I don't like being sick.

But you don't want to be healthy either.

This is your way out.

Guilt-free.

I said I'd do it when Will's 18.

When he's able to take care to himself.

Without you.

Jack...

your brother and sister need you.

I know! I know every second of every day

that they need me.

But I'm too young to be their dad!

Good for you.

Don't pretend you're surprised.

Wanna go throw stuff at people off the balcony?

Come on. Mail can wait.

I'm referring my patients to other oncologists.

I'm shutting down my practice.

Oh, good!

'Cause I was afraid you might overreact.

I can't just ask my patients to wait

because Dr. Cameron's boss

won't let her come out and play!

I kept you waiting for maybe an hour.

Three hours!

Did anybody die?

Not this time.

Cameron's available now.

Use her all you want.

Oh, so now's a better time

for me to have my life taken away?

It fits into your schedule better?

Oh, poor you.

You think if you suffer loudly enough--

You committed a crime!

What do you want me to do, turn myself in?

Yes! Yes! Do something!

Go in! Show some remorse!

Tell Tritter you'll get some help!

I don't need help!

House, get out of here.

Get out of here.

You are not gonna make me feel guilty

about what Tritter is doing...to us.

You already feel guilty.

Your mysterious shoulder pain

isn't coming from your cane.

It's coming from your conscience.

That used to be enough.

Despite all your smart-ass remarks,

I knew you gave a damn.

This time...

You were either gonna help me through this,

or you weren't.

I got my answer.

(Will) Who's gonna drive me to school?

Help me with my homework?

There'll be a mom where they take you.

A real mom.

Someone who can cook.

Don't worry.

I'll still be able to see you guys.

You said you'd make him better.

I'm sorry.

Thank you for not telling them.

You're a good kid.

Three months from now...

six months from now...

you'll be visiting them.

And you won't be able to say good-bye.

You're gonna know you screwed up.

You'll take his bone marrow.

And you'll take them back.

And they'll be a burden and a pain.

And your life will...

never be what it was supposed to be.

But you'll be proud of yourself.

Your parents... they'll be proud of you.

I don't think so.

It's what I wanna believe.

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