All language subtitles for House - [1x13] - Cursed

It's all about the tongue, man.
You stick it in their mouth,

but not all the way.

They like that?
Dude, they love it.

What are you doing?
Climbing.

Just deep enough to lick her teeth:
slow, one at a time,
like you're painting them.

This girl Rachel, she's a junior.

- She's experienced.
- Mom says I gotta be home by 5:00.

Just chill, okay? And hop the fence
before someone sees you.

Are you sure this is okay?
Dave's mom's a Realtor.
If it's for sale and empty, it's a clubhouse.

And if you say anything, you're dead.

I told them you were cool.
These are very serious dudes.

Come on.

Cub Scout meeting's
down the street, boys.

What a loser.
Lame.

- Gabe's cool, man.
He's one of us.
- He better be.

Uh, I'm not thirsty.

- What's this?
- Club business, little man.

- What shall we ask?
- Put your hands on.

O dark spirit, will any of us die
in the year to come?

- You're moving it.
- Put your hands back. Now.

Who among us will die?

"G",

"A"--

Oh, man.

"B",

"E".

"Gabe".
That blows.

That's it. We're going to the hospital.

- No, Mom. I'm too tired.
- Come on, sweetie.
You've had a fever for almost a week now.

- Ow.
- Oh, my God.

Oh, Gabe.
Are you okay?

Are you okay?
Baby, what's wrong?

I'm dying.

Twelve-year-old male.
Spiking fever, congested chest,

coughing up green sputum,
pain in breathing.

Baffling, though I vaguely recall a disease
called "meunomia"? "Pneumania"?

But his chest X-ray and C.T. scan
show an atypical pattern for pneumonia.
Pneumonia! That's it.

Just a guess here,
but his parents big donors?

No infiltrate,
just enlarged hilar lymph nodes.

Tiny unicorns goring his bronchial tubes
would be cooler,

and the way you're ignoring the question--
wow, they're extremely big donors.

He's not responding to cefuroxime,
his pulse ox is dropping much faster
than it should for pneumonia,

and plus he's got
an odd little rash.

Excessive irritation.
He's 12. He's on auto-stroke.
On his arm.

Papular lesion, one centimeter,
on top of a long, thin scab.

Ah, you need a dermatologist.
If it's dry, keep it wet.
If it's wet, keep it dry.

If it's not supposed to be there, cut it off.
I never could master all that.

There you are.

Were you scared?
It's okay. You're home now.

Fine.

Cuddy.

- As a special favor to you--
- No. Admit it. I got you with the rash.

The rash is a total snooze,
unless it's connected to the pneumonia,

then it's party time.

Purulent sputum, dyspnea,
rhonchi bilaterally.

What kind of pneumonia
causes this kind of rash?
Legionnaire's disease.

Usually means industrial ventilation systems,
convention centers. He's 12 years old.

Send off a urine antigen and check
if he's joined the Elks. Next?

- Fungal.
- Excellent.
Maybe the lodge went spelunking.

- Chlamydia pneumonia.
- Twelve-year-olds don't have sex.

Their mistake.

That's it?
Other possibilities?

- What if we're thinking about this backwards?
- The rash came first, caused the pneumonia. Nice.

Rickettsial. Tick bite.
Nymphal ticks are out now.
They're bloodthirsty little bastards.

- Rash would be more pustular.
- Not always,
and there's only one rash, which fits.

- New Jersey, it's most likely Lyme disease.
- All right. Let's keep him on fluids...

and the cefuroxime to be safe.

Biopsy that rash.

And take another history.
Even if we don't learn what's causing this,

we definitely need to know
if twelve-year-olds are getting any action.

- What are you doing now?
- We're collecting fluids from the rash.

Why?
They know what they're doing, Jeffrey.

Oh, great endorsement coming from
the woman who thought it was a nasty cold.
If I had had him last week--

This isn't helping.

We're checking to see
if your son has a tick bite.

Gabe, have you been camping recently,
playing sports outside, anything like that?

I'm not that good at sports.

- No hanging out anywhere new,
strange places?
- We've been through this.

- We don't let him run wild
through the neighborhood, right?

Okay. This might be a bit delicate.

- We need to know if you're sexually active.
- I beg your pardon?

- Mr. Reilich, we need to--
- No.

Nothing like that.

We've gotta get another C.T. scan,
check his lungs again.

- Third floor, right?
- Yeah, Radiology is--

Sorry, medical personnel only.

Where's the machine?
Well, we passed it, actually.

A little tension in the room back there.
Thought you could use a break.

Your dad's a pretty... high-powered guy.

Yeah. He was an air force test pilot.
Real Top Gun stuff.

Flew Mach 3.

Hard to deal with sometimes?

Guess I'm more like my mom.
Listen.

I promise to keep my mouth shut,
but I need to know.

You definitely haven't had
any sexual contact
of any kind?

I wish.

You know what?

Girls like the cool guys now,
but give it a few years.

They start liking the smart guys.

You'll be all right.

Can you keep a secret?

I have to. It's my job.

I'm cursed. I'm not kidding.

This séance thing the kids did?
It spelled out my name.

Said I was gonna die.

First name and last name?
We've got a Gabe upstairs
who's very old, very sick.

No. It's me.
I have the worst luck.

One time I broke this mirror,

the next week
my parents got separated.

My parents split up too.

Every kid feels like it's his fault.
It never is.

So, what about the rest of the stuff?
Any playing outside
your parents don't know about?

Anything like that?

Maybe you were somewhere
you weren't supposed to be?

Triage nurse, pick up line 274.
Oh, man.

Gabe, it's important.

A secret club.
What's the secret-- they're all morons?

He fell on something in the attic,
scraped his arm,
got the rash the next day.

Said it smelled really moldy up there.

- Fungal pneumonia
without the cave. Clever.
- I'm gonna get a sample.

Dr. Chase,
you have a few moments?

Sorry, I've gotta go.

These young doctors.
It's like they don't care about people.

- No manners.
- My fault, probably.

That's an interesting accent
you have there. I'd say Czech...

with about 30 years of Aussie.

You have quite an ear.

You're Chase's dad.

Hard to miss-- you know, the big hug
and how happy he was to see you.

Need a consult.
With a patient.

Urgent doctor stuff.

Twenty-six-year-old male,
sudden loss of the ability to speak--

Just because you got out of clinic duty
doesn't mean everybody did.
To his father.

Differential diagnosis?
Chase?

Dad swoops in,
Chase swoops out.

Dad say why he was here?
See? You asked.

Dad comes 5,000 miles,
you're more curious than Junior is.

Can't just be about the divorce.

It's been 15 years, and Mom's
been dead for 10 of them.
You think Daddy murdered her?

You want to get to the bottom of this,
you're doing it exactly right:

Don't talk to the people involved.
Drag your buddy away from work
for some pointless speculation.

You want to know how
two chemicals interact,
do you ask them?

No. They're gonna lie through
their lying little chemical teeth.

Throw them in a beaker
and apply heat.

Even I don't like you.

You know, words can hurt.

Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold on, guys.
I don't care that you're up here.

- You a cop?
- Doctor. I'm treating Gabe Reilich.

- He said he fell over near some pipes?
- Yeah, over there.

- What, here?
- Yeah.

- Any of you guys been feeling sick lately?
Rash, cold, anything?
- No.

Oh, crap. He is a cop!
Damn it!

He fell on it--
some weird kind of insulation.

It's old.
House was built in the '60s.

What's it made of?
Felt, fibers of-- what, cotton?

Sorry. Forgotten how funny your dad was.

- Not as funny as you.
High praise.

I know how protective
kids can be of their parents.

Not cotton. Animal hair.

Get me the C.T. scan.

First, find the name of the company
that made the insulation,

and second, tell me what I'm seeing
that makes me want to short their stock.

Uh, enlarged hilar lymph nodes.

Peribronchial thickening.
- Pleural effusions.

Less obvious, more scary.

Well, the mediastinum
doesn't look right.

Slightly widened.

Oh, God.

It can be transmitted
through infected animal hair.

But the Gram's stain would have shown--
No. The cefuroxime would have killed
some of it, clouded the result.

We've gotta get this kid on levaquin.

What does he have?

Anthrax. This house belong
to old man Hussein?

Maybe he is cursed.

Anthrax. So, what-- you think
there were terrorists in that attic?

It's a naturally occurring bacteria.

- We believe it was in the insulation.
- How sick is he?

Anthrax is very dangerous,
but we've caught it early. He's on levaquin.
It's the best antibiotic we have.

Lisa, you buy this?
Jeff, you've helped
our hospital a lot.

I wouldn't have assigned
Dr. House to your case
if I didn't have every confidence in him.

- Then who's this guy?
-Jeffrey!

There's all these weird diseases
that can cause a rash.
What about leishmaniasis or filariasis?

Where'd you hear about those?
Internet. I did some research.

Well, those are very rare conditions.
Oh, and anthrax
grows along the interstate?

Leishmaniasis doesn't cause
pneumonia, and filariasis--

Just look into everything.
This is my son, all right?

And I'm gonna stay on top of you
until I know he's safe.
I wouldn't expect anything else.

Everyone's a doctor.

Breathe, baby. It's okay.
Breathe. I need you to breathe.

His breathing--
It's on the inhale.

What does that mean?
It means his airway's closing up.

Is the anthrax doin' it?

All right. Hold still, Gabe.
This is gonna be a little uncomfortable.

We've got you. It's okay.

- Nodules in his throat.
- Airway's occluded?

- We've got to intubate. Ativan!
- Pushing 3 c.c.'s.

- Airway's too tight.
- What's wrong? What's wrong?
No, you're killing him!

-Jeffrey! Let them do their job.
- Airway's too tight.
Get me a smaller tube.

- We're traching.
- Smaller tube.

- His lips are cyanotic.
- He's not breathing.

Foreman, we're traching.
No. I can do it. I'll get it.

- Foreman, you're not getting through.
- He's not getting air.

- We have to trach him right now.
- No, I can do it.

Betadine.

I'm doing this.

Got it.

He's okay.

Allergic reaction to the antibiotics?

I don't think so.
We switched him to rifampin,
and there was no change in the swelling.

We should try another antibiotic.
You really think he's allergic
to two antibiotics?

I wanna know
what Dr. Chase thinks.

It's possible he's allergic--
Oh! I'm sorry. Not you.

Understandable mistake.
The other Dr. Chase.

Boy gets anthrax
and happens to be allergic
to two antibiotics.

Hate to step on anybody's toes,
but is it possible your guys
got this one wrong?

The rash is classic anthrax.
Except the color.

The rash hasn't turned black yet.
No necrosis, no anthrax.

Necrosis can theoretically take
as long as two weeks.

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!

Guys, it's not a competition.
It's a diagnosis.

Okay. Who thinks Junior wins?

Four to one.
It's not anthrax.

So we start over.
What's changed?
What do the nodules tell us?

- Sarcoidosis.
- Excellent. Send an ACE level.

If it comes back positive,
put him on methotrexate.

We ran some tests and the results
point toward sarcoidosis.

It makes the body's
tissues swell up.

It seems to have gone after
Gabriel's skin and lungs
and given him this fever.

Doctor.

We don't know what causes it.

But you're sure he has this one?
We have a world-renowned
doctor consulting.

- He's convinced this is sarcoidosis.
- Is it treatable?

Very, actually.
See, this is I.V. methotrexate.
It's an anti-inflammatory.

It should make all the swelling go down
and, uh, get you all better.

Stop.

My God, it's black.

Necrosis.

It's definitely anthrax,
and it definitely can't be anthrax.
It doesn't cause throat nodules.

Only explanation is,
this kid's got anthrax and sarcoidosis.

Right--
two incredibly rare diseases...

-just happening to strike at once.
- Unless you've got a better theory.

Anthrax plus an allergic reaction.

Call the Lancet, because that's
one bizarre allergic reaction.

Come on. There's no reason
you both can't be wrong.

It's not allergy,
but it's not coincidence either.

Disease number one set off
disease number two.

- Anthrax weakened his immune system.
- And triggered a dormant sarcoidosis.

Keep him on antibiotics for the anthrax,
and start the methotrexate
for the sarcoidosis. See what happens.

Fine.

Better go with him.
Make sure he doesn't snap
and hurt somebody.

Yeah, but y-you're treating him
for both diseases.

We're covering all the bases.
What-- throw everything against the wall
and see what sticks?

Works for spaghetti.

A-Are you being funny?
Apparently not.

You know why I give money
to this hospital?

It's the only way
to get attention. See this?

Is this a magic trick? 'Cause I am
a total David Copperfield fan.

Although I thought that tornado of fire--
that seemed a little fake.
Pain in the wrist. It won't go away for months.

Six doctors' brilliant conclusion
is to take it easy.
I write a check, name goes on a plaque,

and 48 hours later I've got two M.R.I.'s,
a bone scan and a diagnosis: carpal tunnel.

I'm in surgery that afternoon.

Fascinating story.
Have you thought
of adapting it for the stage?

I love my-- Look at me.
I love my son.

I love him more than anything else in
the world. Start paying attention to this case,
or I'm gonna make things miserable--

Go to your son's room.
Not until you get your ass--

There's a problem.

- What is it?
- I don't know.

Skin lesions are spreading
all over his body.

They're opening up,
and the fatty tissues are oozing out.

He'll be septic in a matter of days.
Death by dermatitis.

- Where's Robert?
- Uh, he has clinic duty this morning.

No, he doesn't.
I rescheduled you guys so you'd be free.
Yeah, but he re-rescheduled himself.

It doesn't hurt yet.
Keep going.

You page me?

No, I don't need you.
Come on.

We all need help now and again.
You're getting a consult.

- Okay. We've got new skin lesions,
bigger and uglier. What would cause that?
- My hand hurts.

What if his body worked so hard attacking
the anthrax that it started attacking itself?

- Autoimmune.
- Wouldn't present this aggressively.

- It's not likely, but it is possible.
- What, in a twelve-year-old male?

- This isn't about me, is it?
- Gabe's dad found leishmaniasis and filariasis
on the Internet yesterday.

- They didn't fit then,
but now they kind of do.
- Sure,

except for the nodules, and we're
not working out of Calcutta General.

- Multiple neurofibromatosis.
- You think this is neurological?

The only reason you're thinking autoimmune
is because you're a rheumatologist.

If you were a proctologist,
you'd think rectal cancer.

Gotta go with Senior.

- He literally wrote the book on this one.
- Autoimmune is a big universe.

It could be anything
from scleroderma to Churg-Strauss.

Whatever it is,
we should start him on steroids,
keep the swelling down.

A hundred milligrams of cytoxan--
it treats most autoimmunes.

Well, give it to him now before the fat
starts dripping out his eyeballs.

Hey, my fingers are numb.

Your watch is on too tight.

You're messing with my head.
Your relationship with your dad is
messing with your ability to do your job.

Only because you made
my dad part of my job.
Good point.

You haven't seen him in years,
he flies across the Atlantic to see you--
Pacific.

- You breeze by him like he's a Hare Krishna
at the airport, don't ask why he's in town.
- It's probably a conference.

Probably.

I was hoping to do this
through sheer manipulation,
but if you insist on talking, fine. Talk.

- What did he do to you?
- How would you feel if I interfered
in your personal life?

I'd hate it-- that's why
I cleverly have no personal life.

I'm gonna biopsy
his skin lesions.

Good thinking. Prove your dad wrong.
That'll solve everything.

Who extubated him?
I did.

Temperature's down two degrees,
and the swelling's almost gone.

And his skin looks better too.

Cytoxan is working.

- Feeling better, Gabe?
- Yep, a lot.

Dr. Chase, can you and I have a word?

Your diagnosis is wrong.
No autoimmune disease.

The swelling's probably just down
because we've got him on steroids.
It's masking whatever's really wrong.

A.N.A.'s are unreliable.
Phospholipid antibodies are negative,
so no lupus. Same for Churg-Strauss.

You're arguing
with a rheumatologist.

There's about 20 distinct
autoimmune diseases--
Why are you here?

S.L.E. conference.

You were in New York last year
for the scleroderma conference.
I didn't hear anything from you.

Just wanted to say hi this time.
You said it.
You're still here.

I miss you.

I was 15 years old
when you walked out.
Now you're walking back in?

I left your mother.
I didn't leave you.

Mum was living on gin and tonics.
How was I supposed to take care of her?
She wasn't your responsibility.

I know! She was yours.

I'm sorry she died.
I'm sorry you had to deal with that.

But she was falling apart
long before--

I've got to talk to House
about this treatment.

But the patient's getting better.

In spite of the cytoxan.

On the other hand-- getting better.

Cytoxan makes him more
susceptible to infection.

The anthrax could relapse
and be more resistant.
Better!

You want a negative test
for every autoimmune disease
known to man?

- Fine. I'll get 'em.
- Be home by midnight
or you can't have the car this weekend.

You guys talk?
Did he tell you why he's here?

The S.L.E. conference.

Going back to the conference?
Afternoon panel.
I hope I can stay awake.

I hope you can get in.
You're not registered.

I get it. You had to make up a lie.

Can't just tell your kid
you're here to see him.

I mean, what father does that?

That little blue dot under your collar--
it's a tattoo for guiding radiation treatment.

I was looking for it after I saw
what you had for breakfast:
brown rice, vegetables.

It's a macrobiotic diet--
popular with Hollywood starlets
and... cancer patients.

Lungs. Stage IV.

- You look good.
- I'm not.

Came to the States
to go to Sloan-Kettering
and see Dr. Wilson.

- What'd he say?
- Three months.

But you haven't told Robert.

You don't want to burden him,
because you were such a lousy dad.

I'd prefer you not tell him.

Yeah. That's better.

I'll get to see his face
when he reads his dad's obituary.

It's not your business.

I suppose it isn't.

You sure do a lot of tests.

If we figure out exactly
which autoimmune condition it is,
we can get you better quicker.

Was that your dad before?
Yeah.

That's so cool.
Do you guys work together a lot?

Not really.

When can I go home?

We'll see.

Looks like you got your appetite back.
That's a good sign.

Want some water?
Yes.

- Ah!
- Here you go.

Whoops.
That's all right. Water's cheap.

- Oh, God.
- What?

I can't--
I can't move my hand.

Can you squeeze my fingers
for me, Gabe?

He's getting worse. Now his entire
right hand and forearm are paralyzed.

And his fever's back. It's up over 105.
If we don't stop the nerve deterioration
quickly, he'll be paralyzed for life.

Well, luckily, at this rate
that should only last about a week.

- Okay. So--
- I told you we should
get him off the cytoxan.

This is toxic neuropathy.
We've been shoving drugs into his system
for a disease he doesn't have.

- Well, it could be neurological.
- What kind of brain process
would cause a paralyzed hand,

skin lesions and swollen throat nodules?

Robert was right.
You said multiple neurofibromatosis.

Are you saying that for the chance
at a beautiful family moment,
or is there some medicine involved?

- Mm-mmm. Fits better.
- Too bad.

I was hoping for the other reason.
I was gonna go get my camera.

Get a C.T. scan-- his brain this time.

You'd think three copies would
be enough, right?

One's always been
more than enough for me.

Why didn't you tell me
that Rowan Chase was in to see you?

Excuse me.

Ethics, confidentiality--
does any of this ring a bell?

You could have covered yourself,
called me in for a consult.
It is a juicy piece of gossip.

You know what happened?
I got all focused on his cancer
and lost perspective.

You can't tell Chase, but I can.
What should I do?

This is where I give you advice
and pretend you're gonna listen to it.
I like this part.

Did Rowan ask you not to tell?
I promised I wouldn't.

My fingers were crossed,
though, so I'm wide open.

I was wrong. This is the musing-out-loud part.
Do I actually need to be here?
Telling him.

Now, that's got real
entertainment value.
Mm. He might even cry.

On the other hand, there is
the do-unto-others thingy.

Well, then I should definitely tell him.
I'd wanna know.
You wanna know everything.

There's also
the keeping-your-promises thingy.

Oh, you never run out of thingies--
like that blonde thingy
you were chatting up.

She's the hospital accountant.
We were going over billing procedures.

Double-entry bookkeeping?

What are you gonna do?

Billing procedures.
They're so complicated, aren't they?

You know, parents are never as bad
as kids think they are.

If you like my dad so much,
ask him out.

I'd make an excellent stepmom.
I'm very lenient.

He's your father.
You never see him, and he's here.

Unless he's done
some unspeakable thing,
you should lighten up.

Great. Thanks for the tip.

Okay.

He beat your mom.
He beat you.

What did he do?
Really, don't push it.

All this hate. It's toxic.

Then stay away.

There's nothing there.

No masses, no fibrous tangles, nothing.

It's not neurofibromatosis.

Drs. Chase are 0 for 3.
Even when they agree,
they're wrong.

So, next, what else could cause neural damage
as well as all the nodules?
Berger's disease.

- He's never been out of the country.
- Have his parents?
They could have brought it back.

- I don't think so.
- It doesn't matter. His lesions are in the
wrong place. His feet are the one clear spot.

- Kid's dad mentioned leishmaniasis.
- Yeah, and filariasis.

- But the throat nodules still don't fit with that.
- That's two diseases pretty much
exclusive to Southeast Asia.

What if the anthrax
didn't set off the second disease?

- We're back at coincidence again?
- No. What if something else
was the trigger?

- Nothing else happened.
- We happened.

- Antibiotics?
- We've been through this.
It's not an allergy.

I gotta pee.

- What did the C.T. scan tell you?
- Nothing.

Ow!
Scale from one to 10--
how painful?

Not half as painful
as when I punch you in the face.
Don't do that. It'll hurt you.

- Carpal tunnel surgery
obviously didn't work.
- Who are you?

The little ones call me Uncle Greg.
Your dad never had carpal tunnel.

You mentioned
two obscure diseases to Dr. Chase.
How did you know about them?

- I read about them on the Internet.
- What did you search for-- "Diseases from Asia
that don't match my son's symptoms"?

- You head about them in Asia.
- I've never been there.

Well, you probably just forgot.
Let me refresh your memory:

some remote, dusty village,
close quarters, at least a year?

- Starting to come back?
- I'm calling Dr. Cuddy.

Excuse me, what does this
have to do with our son?

Your dad's pissed off. He should be.

Comes here expecting us to do
an extra-good job because he gives
a whole lot of money to this hospital.

- Don't talk to my son like that!
-Just telling him my job and my obligation--

Stop!
What's going on?

There's only one thing
you guys have gotta do.

Tell the truth, or your son will die.

How long were you in Asia?

Jeff, it's a simple question.

Two years, in India.

Why would you lie
about something like that?
It was '87 and '88.

This, uh--

This guru--
I-I thought he had some answers.

I went to his ashram...

and, um, ended up with no money
and no answers.

I was embarrassed.
I didn't want anyone to know.

No.

No. You were a test pilot.

I'm so sorry, Gabe.

What does this have to do with my son?

Clue number one: If I were Jesus,
curing this kid would be as easy
as turning water into wine.

Demonic possession?
Close, but no wafer.

Clue number two:
Rheumatology Rowan was almost right.
It causes autoimmune symptoms.

- Leprosy?
- Yeah, that's real big
in the Jersey suburbs.

It's leprosy.
Run a Fite stain. It'll be positive.

Daddy hung out on
the wrong kind of Indian ashram.

But it's obviously dormant in the dad.
How could the kid catch it?

It's not dormant in the dad.
It's just slow.

Damaged his ulnar nerves.
Was misdiagnosed as carpal tunnel.

Never trust doctors.
Run a Fite stain.

No wonder he got anthrax.
The leprosy weakened his immune system.

Vicious circle: The leprosy
made him vulnerable
to the anthrax,

and the anthrax treatment
put the leprosy in overdrive.

- But the antibiotics we gave him--
they cure leprosy.
- Yeah. That's where the trouble starts.

The antibiotics hit the nerve strands.

They kill the leprosy bacteria,
and the corpses get tossed into the system.

And as fascinating as our bodies are,
they're also stupid.

They produce antibodies
to beat dead bacteria.

And these aren't the polite antibodies.

They're the ones that won't sit still,
kick during nap time.

They attack his neural and fat cells,

causing inflammation
and all the rest of his symptoms.

So the cure's killing him.

I want you to call down to Carville, Louisiana,
home of the last leper colony in the Lower 48.

Get 'em to send up
some thalidomide.

- Thalidomide?
- Twelve-year-olds don't have sex, right?
So he can't be pregnant.

Make the call.

I need to speak to your boy.

Hmm.

Why does everybody
need to know my business?

People like talking about people.

Makes us feel superior,
makes us feel in control,

and sometimes, for some people,
knowing some things makes them care.

I tell you my dad left,
my mum drank herself to death,
you gonna care about me more?

Cameron would.
Me, I just like knowing stuff.

I know you hate your dad.

- Now, I'm gonna tell you something--
- I don't hate him.

I loved him until I figured out
that it hurts a lot less to just not care.

You don't expect him to turn up
to your football match,
no disappointments.

You don't expect a call on your birthday,
don't expect to see him for months,
no disappointments.

You want us to go make up--
sink a few beers together, nice family hug?

I've given him enough hugs.
He's given me enough disappointments.

Okay.

- That's it?
- That's it.

Breathe.

Breathe again.

Breathe again.

Are you gonna have
to tell my friends I'm a leper?

You had the antibiotics.
You're not contagious anymore.

Well, what if they already caught it?

Leprosy is incredibly hard to catch.
Even your mum didn't get it.

Right. I want you to make a fist.

It's still kinda stiff.

It'll get back to normal
in a month or two.
Your skin, two or three weeks.

Security 12, call 3662.

You haven't asked about your dad.

He lied about everything.

He lied to my mom.
He lied to his boss.

He's just a liar.

He loves you.

I don't love him.

Yeah, you do.

Nothing you can do about it.
He's your dad.

It doesn't matter what he does.
You're gonna love him.

Here. Thanks.

Hey!

When's your flight?
You got time for a drink?

Wish I did.

Dr. Chase?

I got it.

You're gonna be gettin' down
to Oz anytime soon?

Not too long.
Next autumn, I hope.

I'll call ya.

Well, you're all set.

I'll see ya.
Yeah.

I'll see you.

Ripped by phaelox for divxstation.com