All language subtitles for House.S03E13.720p.AMZN.WEBRip.x264-GalaxyTV

[soft pop on radio]

*

Wait.
Wait, we shouldn't--

we shouldn't
be doing this.

What, you're not
having fun?

It's not that.
It's just--

Rather be with the boys?

No.

Well, then, come on.

[rapping]
Oh!

You kids need any help?

No.
No, we're fine.

Car trouble?

(girl)
No.

Then why are you here?

Um...we're just talking.

Does she do
all the talking?

Uh, most of it.

[chuckles]

I know what that's like.

I'm gonna come back
through here in ten minutes.

And if you're still here,
I'm gonna call your parents.

Yes, sir.

Thank you.

Now, where were we?

Uh, we were going.

In nine minutes.

[soft music continues]

*

Wait a minute.

Stevie?
What's wrong?

[gasping]

Oh, my God!

[stammers]

Help!

Someone help me!

[Massive Attack's Teardrop]

*

16-year-old
with respiratory arrest.

The only thing I hate
more than a thief

is a crippled thief.

Yeah, me too.
No sign of trauma.

No history of asthma
or allerg--
Who the hell is J. Whitner?

No idea.

Stevie Lipa's EKG

and echocardiogram
were normal, but--

Normal is good.
Send him home.

J. Whitner!
Doctor.

Who is he and where
do I find him?

She's a new researcher,
works with Ereshevsky.

Is she hot?
She's in a wheelchair.

Doesn't mean
she's not hot.

Just means
she can't bend over,

so Cuddy has
to bend over backwards.

16-year-old kid.

E.R. work-up revealed
a bloody pleural effusion.

That's odd.

Yeah,
that occurred to me.

What took you so long
to mention it?

No tumors or pneumonia
on the CT.

He passed out
while making out.

If he's into sex,
drugs and rock and roll

can't be that far behind--
I'm guessing cocaine.

Tox screen was clean.

(Cameron)
Just means he wasn't on drugs,

not that he hasn't
been using drugs.

Looks like
a plumbing problem to me.

Leaky pipes.

If he popped an aneurysm,
he'd be in the morgue,

not the E.R.
That's why you're gonna do

a venogram
instead of an arteriogram.

This is not a high-pressure
burst--it's a low-pressure leak.

Still could have been drugs

that caused the pipes
to corrode in the first place.

So go look under
his mattress.

See if he's got
any pills or powder

stashed with the hand lotion.

Sweet ride.

I asked for the one
with the sissy bar

and the banana seat,
but Santa gave me this instead.

Guess that's what I get
for being naughty.

You must be Dr. House.

Yeah.

So, looks like
there's been some sort of mix-up

at the parking office.

They had to move me
closer to the door.
Had to?

You don't look like the type
to pull a weapon.

Wheelchair.
Cane.

I think you should
do the honorable thing,

let me have my space back.

Oh, well, uh, since you
asked so nicely--wheelchair.

Cane!

Walking long distances
makes my leg hurt.

And it's easy for me?

'Course not.

Pushing that little lever,

your thumb muscles
must burn.

I'm sure the last ten yards
are pure torture.

Crossing the parking lot's
dangerous--cars can't see me.

Did you ever hit a patch
of black ice with a cane?

No, gosh, on account of
the fact that I can't walk!

Maybe you should ask
the parking office

for some crampons.

Look, this is about who can most
easily cross the parking lot.

You're the winner.

Oh, and the prize
is apparently a parking space.

[coughing]

(Foreman)
There's still no answer

at either one of your parents'
cell numbers.

Is there any other way we might
be able to contact them?

No.

They're in a conference.

They probably had
to turn them off or something.

What does it matter
where they are?

I mean, he's in pain.
You gotta do something.

We need them to sign this.

Why can't he just sign
the papers? He's 16.

Still not an adult.

Then call my parents.
They know him.

They'll take responsibility,
do whatever you need.

I can't.
It won't--
You can't just let him

sit here in agony until
his parents finally decide--
Leah.

It's okay.

No, it's not.

I feel like there's an anvil
sitting on my chest.

[machine beeps]

[beeping increases]

[beeping slows]

[beeping increases]

You win.
We're doing the venogram now.

We'll deal with
the fallout later.

[Stevie coughing]

My fingers feel wet.

That's just the dye.

Your nerves can't tell
the difference between

the cold inside your body
and the wet outside your body.

The nerves
can't tell the difference,

or the brain can't
interpret the difference?

It's a little of both.

You like science?

It looks like
a diffusion pattern.

That's because
it's the venous side,

low pressure.

So Graham's Law applies?

You've taken physics
already?

No. Just sort of
read up on my own.

I had to teach myself
a lot of stuff too.

Schools sucked
where I grew up.

You go to public
or private?

Public.

Leak has to be
in the pulmonary veins

to get in my lungs,
right?

Yep.

I don't see anything.
Do you?

No.

It doesn't make sense.

How can I have
a bloody effusion

without any bleeding?

[coughing]

This is putrid.

Put food-borne parasites
and infections

on the list to check on.

I'll take the bedroom.

I'm sorry, I didn't
know there was anyone--

We were just--

I have a gun.

Look, you can take
whatever you want.

My wallet's in my suit.
Freeze!

Oh!

I'm calling the cops.

Okay, you don't
have a gun.

And you're not
calling the cops.

Oh, no,
I'm calling the cops,

unless you two get
out of here right now.
Unless?

Who calls the cops unless
a burglar does something?

You don't want to have
to explain the affair.

We're not having
an affair.

He's got a ring.
You don't.

And judging from the state
of the kitchen downstairs

and the half-vacuumed
bedroom,

I'm guessing you're a better
lover than you are a maid.

Maid?

You son of a bitch.

I'm not a maid, okay?

This is my house, not his.

Oh, sorry.

And what's wrong
with my kitchen?
Nothing.

We're sorry.
We're just here to help Stevie.

Who's Stevie?

Your...son?

Huh?

(Chase)
It was the address
you gave.

The E.R. must have
written it down wrong.

Or you lied because you don't
want us to talk to your parents.

I gave you
their phone numbers.

(Foreman)
You gave us some numbers.

We haven't been able
to reach anyone.

I told you,
they must be in a conference.

He's lying.
Leah.

He's Romani.

A gypsy.

So you don't have a home?

Of course we do.

Next you're gonna ask me
about dancing around campfires

and--[coughs]
stealing children?

This is why
I don't tell people.

They share everything
with each other

and nothing with the gadje--
the outsiders.

Sharing information
with outsiders

has not gone so well
for my people.

I get it, but right now

you're making yourself
more vulnerable by lying to us.

You can't go to my house.
You'll pollute it.

All we're gonna do
is look around.

Your presence is enough.

My parents
take it seriously.

It's spiritual as much
as it is physical.

You know where he lives?

Don't.

Look, I'll tell you
whatever you need to know.

If we can't trust
your answers--

I drink sometimes, okay?
I've smoked pot.

I'll tell you anything.

The truth.
You just--

[coughs]

You can't go in my home.

The pot wouldn't cause
a bleeding problem.

A pesticide
on the pot could.

Where did you get it?

Some kid at school.

(Leah)
Stevie.

He got the pot from me.

He doesn't even
go to school.

His parents
made him drop out.

I'm home schooled.

He reads books.

What else
are you lying about?

Is your father
really a professor?

He's a salesman.

They buy and sell anything
they can get their hands on.

(Foreman)
They--so you're with your dad
when he's making these deals?

He was just in Chicago
a week ago.

You fly?
No.

My dad's got a truck.

[laughing]

You can't be serious.

Actually, I can.

See?

It's my space.
I want it back.

It's not your space.
It's the hospital's space.

And the hospital thinks
that the person who's worse off

should get
the better space.

Your application
for a handicapped space

says you can walk 50 yards.

And Whitner
says she can roll 50 miles

between oil changes.

I can't change my leg.

The space I moved you to

is only 46 yards
away from the front door.

I measured.
You'll be fine.

Great--so I can collapse
four yards into the lobby

instead of outside
in the cold.

As long as
it's not in my office.

You know who won
the New York City Marathon

six years in a row?

Guy in a wheelchair.

Then go get yourself one
and leave me alone.

Gimme my space, I'll be happy
to roll around all day.

You couldn't last one week
in a wheelchair.

Wanna bet?

What's wrong with you?

Nothing that a week off my feet
won't solve.

(Foreman)
Venogram's negative.
No leak.

You mean you couldn't
find the leak.

(Cameron)
Is your leg worse?
No, but my parking spot is.

Blood is only made inside
the circulatory system,

which means
when we find it outside--

There's no leak.
I even checked lymphatics.

So you're gonna spend a week
in a wheelchair

just to get a parking space
closer to the front door?

Easier than chopping off
my legs.

We've ruled out
toxins and drugs.

(Chase)
Kind of.
He's Romani.

Apparently, they feel
the need to keep secrets,

so it's hard to know
anything for sure.

Yeah, he's also a human being,

which means you shouldn't
be trusting him to begin with.

Stop relying on his answers
and find some on your own.

It's a deep vein
thrombosis.

The kid spent 16 hours in
the backseat of an old pickup.

Causes a clot and makes its way
to his lungs.

We should do an arteriogram,
find the clot, bust it with TPA.

Or we could find the leak.

There's no leak.

Hey, you can't yell
at a guy in a wheelchair.

It's a slow leak.
You gotta speed it up.

Thin his blood.
Redo the venogram.

That could cause
a massive bleed.

Excellent--massive'll be
even easier to find.

Pardon me.

Guess you guys are gonna
have to get the next one.

I thought you were
redoing the venogram.

As soon as we're done
with the arteriogram.

Okay, you're gonna
feel a little poke.

Could you maybe do that?

(Cameron)
Don't worry.
It's just your leg.

I don't have to go
any further than this.

(Foreman)
Take a look at this.

Bones of your forearm.

Uh, radius and ulna.

How 'bout the wrist?

Um...lunate...

hamate...

the...

Scared lovers try positions
they can't handle.

It's a mnemonic
for the wrist bones.

It's the only way
I can remember them.

Ow.

(Foreman)
Are you okay?

Ow.
Ow, my stomach.

You hit something?
I barely started.

Lie flat.
No, I can't.
It hurts too much.

I'm getting out.
It's our only chance
to see what's going on.

If he moves,
I could shred his artery.

Just get it out!
Now!

It's gonna be okay, Stevie.

Just inject the dye.

[Stevie sobs]

Dye's going into his liver,
but it's not coming out.

The clot's gonna be constricting
the flow in the hepatic vein.

It's not constricting it.
It's completely blocking it.

His whole liver's fried.

[moaning]

Ow.

(Foreman)
Kid's liver's failing

because of massive clots
blocking his hepatic vein.

How can he have
both a bleed and a clot?
It's not a clot.

Must have blocked a vein
with a catheter wire.
Not a chance.

Increased pressure downstream
could also stop the blood.

(Foreman)
There's no heart failure
or cirrhosis.

Means it has to be a clot.

Massive clots block veins.

They don't make them leak.

And since he clearly
has some kind of--

You having a little problem?

Would you mind?

Boy, that was humiliating.

How does Whitner
make it through the day?

"Pride goeth before the fall."

Lucky for me, I'm sitting
in one of these babies.

So, what other theories
can I shoot down?

DIC would explain both--

His platelets are normal
and his PTT isn't elevated.

Leukemia?
Normal CBC and differential.

You guys are still thinking
like doctors

when you should be
thinking like plumbers.

Come on, I wanna see
some butt crack.

Something inside the liver
is punching holes in the pipes.

Blood bleeds through
the opening,

sticks to the intruder,
forms a mass.

A clot.

A mass.
(Chase)
Cancer.

A tumor could erode
a blood vessel.

(Foreman)
Well, so could
a granuloma

from tuberculosis
or sarcoidosis.

Do a CT, MRI, a sputum,
and an ACE level.

(House)
Excuse me, sorry.
Cripple coming through.

He says
his throat hurts.

That phrasing means
you think it doesn't.

No, I don't.

Good enough for me.

Where are you going?
Mothers know best.

Get yourself a sucker
on the way out.

Look, I think
he's just faking

so he doesn't
have to go to school.

How did you know I was
a truant officer?

I told him he had a choice--
go to school or the doctor.

Right--he's wasting
your precious time,

so you decided to waste mine.

How thoughtful.

I'm in a wheelchair,

so I can't examine him
all the way up there.

Hop down.

My life is just one horror
after another.

Open.

Does it look like
it hurts?

Nope.

What's that?

It's a syringe.

I'm with you--make him
hate the doctor's office

more than he hates school.

That's okay.
I don't--I don't think that's--

It's just saline--
hurts like hell

when it's injected
directly into the muscle.

So what do you think?
Arm or ass?

I think he's learned
his lesson.

Oh, I don't know.
We better check.

Jack, is your mommy
a big fat idiot?

Well, what do you know?
Guess you were right.

Just hold still, Stevie.
This shouldn't take long.

Sorry, I'm guessing
the mike in this thing

doesn't pick up nods.

Smart kid.

Too bad it's all
gonna go to waste.

Nothing wrong
with being a salesman.

He should be able
to pursue his own life,

not be stuck helping his parents
sell old toasters.

He's still young--you never know
what he'll end up doing.

Unless he goes
back to school,

I know exactly
what he'll end up doing.

Wait.

Is that a lesion?

(Chase)
Magnifying times five.

(Cameron)
It's a granuloma.

Means Wegener's
is most likely.

[door opens]

Stevie!

Mom, is that you?

(Foreman)
Hey, hey!

Get him out of this now!

Your son is sick.
The sign on the door--

No, the sign says no metal.
We took everything off.

It says no admittance.

What's wrong with our son?

We don't know yet.

He's not gonna die, is he?

Your son is very ill.

We're still
trying to figure out why,

which is why we need you
to leave the room.

(Foreman)
What are you going to do now?

Oh, now I've gotta
slide my butt

from one padded seat
to another.

What if I bump my knee?

MRI showed a granuloma
in his liver.

Fantastic.

Wanna give me a hand here?

No--Clotting, bleeding, and
a granuloma equals Wegener's.

I know.
That's why I said fantastic.

I was being sincere.
Now give me a hand.

It wouldn't be fair.

We're gonna biopsy the liver
to confirm.

Wouldn't be fair not to.

People are good
and kind and gentle

and help people
in wheelchairs.

You don't believe that.

But you do.
No, I don't.

Foreman.

Forget the biopsy.

His liver'll be gone
before you get the results.

Start treatment
with cyclophosphamide

before Wegener's
punches a hole in another pipe.

What's with the clothes?

You're not being discharged.

I know.
It--

It's my parents.

They insist
that I wear this stuff.

We insist on our own food,
gown, and furnishings

for a reason.

Hey, my--my chest burns.

Are you sure
the treatments are working?

Wegener's causes
the body to attack itself.

It doesn't get undone
overnight.

Be patient.

Where's your soup?
It's in the garbage.

It has willow bark extract.

Willow bark extract
is basically aspirin.

Yes, for the fever.

He's already on meds--
our meds.

We can't risk any adverse
interactions.

We need all this stuff
to go.

We need to control
this environment.

So do we.
People get sick for a reason.

'Cause something in their life
is out of balance.

Dad, he's a doctor.

He doesn't want
to hear your talk.

Balance is just starting
to be restored

now that that girl
is gone.

That girl took pretty
good care of your son

while you were away.

Yes, we can see that.

All this stuff may make him
feel more comfortable,

but it's not--
How long is this
treatment gonna take?

We should start to see
some improvement

in his liver function soon.

"Soon."
Very scientific.

I'm sorry.

Be back in a little bit
to check on you.

(Wilson)
Ah, yes.

If it isn't
Dr. Ironside.

Ah, if isn't "Dr. I had no
friends when I was growing up,

"so all I did was watch TV
by myself,

"which is why I can now make
constant pop culture references

which no one understands
but me."

That's my name.
Don't wear it out.

Ah, ah.

Safe from Cuddy,

but I guess not
from her trusted rat-complice.

Reasonable people
don't debate

the relative merits
of their handicaps.

Reasonable people make rules
based on evidence--

like difficulty
covering a distance,

say 50 yards,

not on some pre-ordained
pathetic-ness scale.

Last I checked,
pigheadedness

was not the eighth
heavenly virtue.

It's only pigheaded
if you're wrong.

If you're right, they call it
sticking to your principles.

Give it up.
You're demeaning yourself.

That's what they told
Rosa Parks.

Don't stand up in there.
I'm watching your feet.

Get out of our home.

This is not a home.
It's certainly not--

It's our home
as long as our son is here.

Mom, Dad, will you just
please just calm down?

You're not family.

You have no right
to be here.

What are you gonna do,
throw me out?

You can't even touch
the gadje.

I'll touch you.

What is going on?

I'm the one
who brought him here.

I should be able
to see how he's doing.

He wouldn't even need to be here
if it weren't for you.

Right--I'm so unclean,
I caused his liver to shut down.

Enough.
No one is leaving.

He's our son,
and we want her out of here.

[moaning]

It hurts.

Your stomach again?

[coughing]
No.

What?

(Foreman)
His liver's actually improving.

We plug one hole
and end up poking another.

We talking
about the patient

or how to get
a raise from Cuddy?

The Wegener's treatment

gave him a massive hemorrhage
in his bladder.

Which means...

it's Wegener's.

What did I just say?

(Cameron)
We were treating him

for Wegener's when everything
went wrong.

Not everything.

Yeah, it was a very
lovely day outside.

On the other hand,
the treatment made him worse.

Treatment made his bladder
worse, not his liver.

Clot in the liver's
breaking up.

And the MRI, sputum, and ACE

ruled out TB, sarcoidosis,
and lymphoma,

which leaves us with...

(Cameron)
Still could be a cancer
with multiple--

A cancer we can't see
on MRI, CT, or blood tests?

It's Wegener's.

It's not the wrong diagnosis.
It's the wrong treatment.

We could increase
immunosuppression.

Add methotrexate.

(Chase)
We can't give methotrexate
to a kid

who's already had
lung problems.

Methotrexate
is carpet bombing.

Hits everything.

We need a smart bomb.

So we don't suppress
the immune system--

we change it.

Immune modulation.

FT-28.

His antibodies are attacking
his blood vessels.

The irritation causes them
to bleed and clot.

We change his immune system

so the antibodies don't
interact with his blood vessels

but work fine everywhere else.

FT-28's still experimental.
It's not FDA-approved.

It's worked for Crohn's Disease
and rheumatoid arthritis.

He doesn't have Crohn's
or arthritis.

Let's say that he does...

and start the treatment.

(Franklin)
Absolutely not.

My people have been
experimented on before.

Never again.

Mr. Lipa,
with all due respect,

comparing this hospital
to Auschwitz is ridiculous.

FT-28's been proven safe
in hundreds--

People always say
you can trust them.

Why would they say
anything else?

Why do they think
we would listen--
Hey, hey, hey.

You think I don't understand
what it's like

to come from a people who've
been enslaved, mistreated,

and experimented on?

Tuskegee went on for 28 years
after World War II.

And the laws
that made it illegal

for the Romani to even
set foot in this state

were still on the books
until 1998.

It's not ancient history.

Conventional therapy
hasn't worked.

Your son may be dying.

He needs a targeted approach,
and you need to trust us.

I'm sorry.

A lifetime of experiences
tells me I can't trust you.

And the past three days have
done nothing to change that.

We want our son treated,
not experimented on.

If you don't know how
to do that, then just tell us

so we can take him
someplace where they do.

(House)
They're absolutely right.

Stay away from that
unproven, experimental stuff.

Much better to stick
with the "moving of furniture

until he gets better"
approach.
Yes, you're right.

We're gonna have to come up
with something else.

You mean another last-ditch
desperation move?

You got anything?

Go back and don't take no
for an answer.

What kinda salesman
are you?

The kind who avoids the house
with the crazy couple

who put tinfoil
over their windows.

They got money for tinfoil,

they got money
for whatever you're selling.

What's that mean?

Means that if
they don't trust you,

you should earn
that lack of trust.

(Foreman)
What does paying
for tinfoil mean?

Why should I have to
answer all the questions?

Oops.
Sorry.

Still getting used
to the power steering.

I assume
you've heard the news?

I'm not worried.

From what I hear,
what you lack in shame

you also lack in willpower.

My will may be weak,

but my backbone is strong.

And pain-free, now that I've
stopped using the cane.

'Course, it's harder
to look down Cuddy's shirt.

Then, the vantage point
on her ass is much improved.

That's just me--always
looking on the bright side.

I'm the guy who said
that her C cups are half-full.

They are nice,
aren't they?

Oh...

no.

You're not gonna win me over
that easily.

You may have a wheel.

It doesn't mean
you get the grease.

You gotta squeak.

What's that?

Cyclophosphamide.

We're continuing the standard
treatment as you requested.

Uh, I have to ask everyone to
leave the room for a few minutes

while I apply some bandages.

Why do we have to leave?

For his penis.

[snaps]

It's okay.

You lied to them.

The bleeding stopped.
I don't need any bandages.

We need to change
your treatment,

but your parents
won't let us.

They've got it in their minds

that we want to try some sort of
inhuman experiment on you.

The treatment's
experimental?

FT-28's been through
extensive clinical trials.

It's also been used successfully
for other conditions.

The fact
that you're recommending...

experimental treatment

means you have
no other options?

Sorry.

We stop the pleural effusions,
your liver almost fails.

We save your liver,
the bladder fails.

If we don't get ahead
of the curve on this--
What do you need me to do?

Take the medicine,
but don't tell your parents.

I don't like lying
to my parents.

The rest of the world,
though--

The rest of the world
I can't trust.

You c trust me.

How do I know?

Because if you do this,
then tell your parents,

I lose my license.

Ow.
Ow!

You okay?
Ow!
God!

Get in here!

(Dr. Simpson)
Wow.

Spleen basically exploded, huh?

[alarm beeps]

Got another bleeder.
2-0 Silk on a stick.

Got it.

(Dr. Simpson)
I believe you ordered
your meat rare.

Keep him open--
if I confirm Wegener's,

might as well stage the disease
while he's still on the table.

What's taking so long?

External capsule's ruptured
but still intact.

No signs of a clot or bleed.

Normal follicles.
Normal lymphoid tissue.

His spleen
is ripped to shreds.

There's gotta be granulomas.
Keep looking.

(Dr. Simpson)
Come on.

Can't leave Humpty Dumpty
like this forever.

I don't see anything
but normal spleen.

No granulomas.

Means no Wegener's.

That's all I need to know.
Let's go, people.

(House)
Run his bowel.

No need.
I'm closing.

Suture.

Run his bowel.

(Dr. Simpson)
Nothing suspicious
in the spleen.

Get him out of here.

You missed it.

He had a granuloma
in his liver.

(Dr. Simpson)
No, it was just scar tissue.

Looked like a granuloma
on the MRI,

but it's not.

Don't know why
I'm debating this.

Pass me the Kelly clamp.
I'm closing.

Not unless you're gonna sew my
hand into this kid's stomach.

Get out of there.
He's unstable.

He's got Wegener's,
which means he's got granulomas.

I'm calling my lawyer.
It's only 26 feet.

If he were an ostrich,
you'd have a 46-foot wait.

[alarm beeps]

Blood pressure's dropping.
Hang another bag
of Ringer's Lactate.

I'm having nothing
to do with this.

Foreman,
hang another bag--

Ringer's Lactate.
Got it.

Come on, come on.
It's gotta be in here.

It's gotta be in here.

But it's not.

Mind if we close?

Well, it's a good thing
we never sold him on FT-28.

His parents were right.

There's no way his parents are
gonna let us near him again.

(Foreman)
They won't be able
to transfer him

until he's recovered
from the surgery.

You can add
the surgical team

to the list of people
who won't let us near him.

Bleeds, clots, bleeds, clots.

Spleen explodes.

We should test him
for Von Willebrand's.

Or we could just play
tic-tac-toe.

Okay, Xs are bleeds.
Os are clots.

We started in the lungs, right?
What did we do?

CT, sputum, two venograms.

That's one bleed, one clot.
Then what?

Liver shut down.

MRI, labs, treated
with cyclophosphamide.

Whereupon, he peed out
3 units of O negative.

Another bleed.

Where is this going?
I don't know yet.

What's next?
Bladder, kidneys.

(Foreman)
High resolution CT scan.

UA and urine sediment.

GI tract?
You ran his small bowel
in the OR.

The large bowel
is fixed to the abdominal wall.

I didn't run that.

Because there was
no reason to.

He hasn't been having
any symptoms in his bowels.

Do a colonoscopy.

Because he's had
no symptoms?

You lose your keys,
first thing you do

is look everywhere you might
logically have placed them.

You don't find them, then you
start looking in other places.

The medicine cabinet,
freezer, mailbox.

We need to look
in this kid's mailbox.

Why don't we x-ray his feet?
They're fine too.

Because we need to take
the center square to block.

Okay, even if that did
make sense,

it's kind of hard to do
a colonoscopy on a kid

you can't get near.

He's in the ICU now.

His parents only have
limited visiting privileges.

I like that kid.
He's got spunk.

Can't talk now.

On guard duty.

You're still in that thing.

What thing?

Oh, this.
Forgot it was even there.

You know,
even if you manage

not to get struck down
by a bolt of lightning

and make it a week, Cuddy's
not gonna give you the space.

She can't.
Bet's a bet.

Yes, and that rule outranks

the Americans
with Disabilities Act.

You think you've got
logic on your side,

but Whitner's
got the legal system.

And legal bets logic
every time--just ask O.J.

You're right.

I am?

Yeah.

So you're doing this
even though you know

you've got no legal leg
to stand on.

Who needs legs
when you got wheels?

I'm gonna get that spot.

No way Cuddy
is going to gyp me!

What'd you say?

I'll see you later.

Gonna have them yelling at me
for the next 20 minutes.

Mucosa looks normal,
healthy.

No lonely diverticula.

[alarm beeps]
Blood pressure's dropping.

He's bleeding again.
(Chase)
Not in his colon.

Hurry up.
I am.

There's nothing there.

Wait, wait, what's that?

A reflection?

No, it's something...

Looks like a...

Toothpick.

Are you sure?

He must have swallowed it
accidentally

and just figured
he'd digest it eventually.

When you two
were making out in the car,

it must have folded
awkwardly

and pushed the toothpick

through the wall of the
intestine and into the lung.

And it moved on to his liver

and made its way
to his bladder and spleen.

So that's it.
He's gonna be okay.

Yeah.
Small holes.

He shouldn't take
that long to heal,

now that we've got it out.

See?

See what you did?
Me?

If you hadn't
been kissing him...

That's what you heard?

It was the toothpick!
It was that disgusting habit--

It would have just passed
right through him

if he hadn't been
writhing around.

Isn't that right--

That's it?

Yeah.
That's it.

Wood absorbs water,

becomes the same density
as the tissue around it.

That's why it didn't show up
on the CT or MRI.

That's cool.

I mean, not cool
for me, but...

lotta damage
for something so small.

You know, the lab here,

they have a paid
intern position.

It's usually given to one of
the kids from the universities,

but if you want,

I could probably get you
an interview.

There's some entry-level stuff,
some gopher work,

but you'd also have access
to a lot of cool things.

Thanks, really, but...

I can't.

Yes, you can.

Stevie, you're bright.

You have more curiosity

than 90% of the doctors
on the staff.

Uh...it's not that.

It's just...

I go to work every day
with my family, you know?

People I've known
my whole life.

I don't want to lose that.

You can have both.

No, I can't.

Because they don't
want to let you.

They shouldn't be
making you choose.

Maybe not, but they are.

And I'm choosing them.

Look, change is hard.

Trust me, I know.

But it worked out for me.

You're a successful
doctor.

Your name
is on journal articles.

I would love that.

It's just...

I see you with Drs. Chase
and Cameron, and...

you all got empty
ring fingers.

You're alone.

Oh ho ho.

This is my last day

living a life of leisure.

So are you gonna tell
Dr. Whitner

she's outta my space
or can I?

Why would I do that?
Because you said
that you would.

And lying is wrong.

I said I would
give you the space

if you made it
a whole week--

Which I--
Didn't.

The bet didn't stipulate

that you had to be
in the chair for a week

unless you had to barge
into an operating room

and shove your hands
in a kid's bowels.

You know about that.

You lost.

I saved a life.

Two minutes out of the chair
to save a kid's life.

You lost, House.

I earned that space.

No, you didn't.

I earn that space every day
I limp into that building

and do my damn job.

You lo-o-ost.

Hey!

You were never gonna
give me that space, were you?

I saw Whitner the other day.
She knew about the bet.

Didn't seem that worried.

She knew I'd win.

But she doesn't know me.

In fact, she doesn't
know anything

except what you tell her,

and you told her that you were
never gonna give me that space,

didn't you?

Just tell me.

Do you at least feel
a little guilty?

If you wanna teach me lessons,

don't make commitments
you can't keep.

[Zero 7's
In The Waiting Line plays]

*

How's it going?

How guilty does she look?

About an eight.

That space is mine.

Veni, vidi, vici.

* Wait in line

* Till your time

* Ticking clock

* Everyone stop

* Everyone's saying
different things to me *

* Different things to me

* Everyone's saying
different things to me *

* Different things to me

* Do you believe

* In what you see

* There doesn't seem to be
anybody else *

* Who agrees with me

* Do you believe

* In what you see

* Motionless wheel

* Nothing is real

* Wasting my time

* In the waiting line

* Do you believe

* In what you see

* Nine to five

* Living lies

* Every day

* Stealing time

* Everyone's taking
everything they can *

* Everything they can

* Everyone's taking
everything they can *

* Everything they can

*

Captioning by CaptionMax
www.captionmax.com