[Open on a man’s eye. He pulls the lower lid pulled down. It’s Hank and he is examining his eye in the mirror. He squeezes his eyes shut and rubs the left one. Golden Cage by Whitest Boy Alive plays.]

Rick: This bagel's as hard as a hockey puck.

[He tosses the bagel on the make up table as Hank removes the bib protecting his white dress shirt and tie.]

Hank: Then don't eat it.

Rick: Used to be a full breakfast service. They're trying to starve us.

Hank: You're worried about the food?

[Hank follows Rick out of the dressing room and down the hall of what looks like a suburban house.]

Rick: No, I’m worried about what the food represents. I got seven scenes to sh**t today on half of what we used to spend.

Hank: We're going through a recession. It is what it is.

Rick: But nobody's gonna bail us out. Free content everywhere, DVD sales in the toilet. Now the back office bean counters are vetoing half my ideas.

Hank: So we begin to make it about the performances.

[They walk down the stairs. A woman in a red bra, panties, garter belt and long gloves walks past them, going up.]

Rick: You okay?

Hank: A bit of a headache.

Rick: If you need an ibuprofen –

Hank: I need you to put your game face on, all right? Screw the bagels, screw the sets, screw the wardrobe. Do you have any idea how lucky we are? [They stop in the doorway of the living room. It’s filled with professional lighting equipment and women in their underwear and stilettos.] We get to do something we like, we get to touch people's lives and we get paid for it? Let's make a movie.

Topless Actress: [passing Hank on her way to the set.] Hey, baby.

[Hank slaps her ass. He stands in the doorway and rotates his head, trying to relax his neck. Rick enters.]

Rick: Roll camera. And… Action.

[A large light is rotated toward Hank. He drops his briefcase, shuts his eyes tight and puts his hands to his face.]

Hank: Oh...

Rick: What's wrong?

[Hank sinks to his knees.]

Hank: Ah... My eyes... They feel like they're exploding.

Rick: All right, turn off the damn lights. Get an ambulance. Now!

[Opening credits]

[Cut to Chase and Cameron’s kitchen. Cameron looks angry as she fills her spoon with cereal then drops it back in the bowl.]

Chase: We're gonna be late for work.

Cameron: Then we'll be late. [She puts her bowl down.] You took a patient's life, you lied about it for weeks, you broke who knows how many laws and oaths to cover it up, but I can live with it. We can get through it together.

Chase: [sighs deeply] You have no idea what I've been living with, and what it means to hear you say that.

Cameron: But we need to get away from Princeton-Plainsboro. You can barely walk by the rooms where Dibala was treated. [He frowns slightly at her.] Why should we live with that hanging over our heads? If there was ever a time to turn the page...

[Cut to Diagnostics Conference Room. Foreman is reading a file.]

Foreman: Three-month-old with fever, incessant drooling, and chronic muscle weakness.

House: Or... p*rn actor Hank Hardwick, born Henry Lefkowitz, totally clean workup, collapsed on the job with extreme photophobia.

Foreman: Or... an infant as limp as a rag doll.

House: Yeah. Let's wait till Chase and Cameron get here. I have a feeling they'll have the good sense to side with me.

Foreman: Doesn't matter who they side with, I'm still in charge. We're taking the limp three-month-old.

[Cuddy enters.]

House: Oh, good. You paged the limpness specialist. [She hands him a plain, white envelope.] This envelope is oddly medical license-shaped.

Cuddy: Congratulations.

[Chase enters, followed by Cameron.]

Foreman: House is back in charge. We get to treat a p*rn star.

Chase: Congratulations.

Cameron: Perfect timing for us.

Chase: We're leaving the team and the hospital, effective immediately.

House: That's kind of sudden. Unless you've been circulating your resumes for a while.

Chase: We're just starting to think about new jobs, where we want to live.

House: Moving too. Interesting.

Cuddy: Are you sure about this?

Chase: [nods] Yes.

Foreman: Uh... We'll miss you.

Cameron: We'll miss all of you too. We'll start clearing out our things.

[House gets up and goes to the coffee machine, turning his back on all of them. Cameron and Chase leave, followed by Cuddy.]

House: Run an STD panel and a tox screen. Send a C-reactive protein to look for inflammation and an A.N.A. to screen for autoimmune. The rest of you take a history and do an LP to rule out viral encephalitis. [He turns and sees Foreman sitting alone.] Oh, it's just you. Here's hoping you're good at multitasking. [He takes his license and coffee and heads for his office.]

[Cut to Hank’s room. Foreman is taking blood.]

Hank: I get tested for STDs regularly, so does everyone I work with.

Foreman: Since I'm guessing you don't take their word for it. All right, I'm gonna need you to lie on your side and put your knees to your chest. Any history of alcohol or substance abuse?

Hank: My wife used to smoke a little pot, but I-I never touched the stuff.

Foreman: [prepping for the LP] You're married.

Hank: Happily, for two years now.

Foreman: She happy you do p*rn?

Hank: Very, since she does it too.

Foreman: Hmm. You ever get jealous when your wife's working?

Hank: It's a job. Once you start letting your work life rule your home life, especially if you're in the same line of work, your relationship's gonna be short.

Foreman: You're gonna feel a little pressure. [Hank inhales deeply] Any history of sexual abuse?

Hank: I defy the cliché.

Foreman: Have you ever suffered depression or psychosis?

Hank: Let me save you some time. There's not a blotch on my medical record. Look... I know most of the people in my field are drug addicts with daddy issues, but I’m a nice, Jewish boy from the ‘burbs. I wasn't driven to this. I chose it. I believe in it. I actually think it's – Oh! My arms are k*lling me.

[Hanks fists are clenched. His arms are bending as if he’s doing a biceps curl while he tries to keep them straight.]

Foreman: Looks like tetany. Your muscles are contracting.

Hank: Oh!

Foreman: Need some meperidine in here.

Hank: [breathing heavily] Oh, God.

[Cut to House.]

House: Jew with megalophallus, photophobia, and muscle spasm. You tell me which is the most unusual. [He starts taking pictures with a camera just out of sight. He’s in Taub’s office. The camera is set up to take “before” pictures of plastic surgery patients.] Four candidates, three slots on the team. Need to know if you've still got your diagnostic chops.

Taub: I leave this office by 6:00 every day, I have my weekends again, I recognize my wife again.

House: Yeah, I agree. Does sound pretty dull. No wonder you want to work for me. Tox screen was clean, We ruled out viral encephalitis. [Taub smiles pleasantly and says nothing.] The only obstacle to you coming back is your wife. Which has never been that much of an obstacle to you.

Taub: [One corner of his mouth twitches.] Maybe you're right. The only link between eye and muscle is the brain. [He gets up and grabs his jacket. He walks with House to the door.] Tumor, seizure...

[House walks out. Taub closes the door behind him and puts his jacket back on the coat tree.]

[Cut to House in another non-descript place.]

House: Taub seems to think the link has to be the brain, but eye and muscle are governed by different parts of the patient's second-favorite organ. [Thirteen is leaning against her open door, keeping him in the hallway.] Which means it's...

Thirteen: Thailand was wonderful. Thanks for asking.

House: Of course. Yes. It has to be multifocal.

Thirteen: I have an interview with a community health clinic in two hours.

House: Back-up plan's fine. But Taub's swinging for the fences. I suggest you don't divide your attention.

Thirteen: Good point. I won't divide my attention, then. [closes door]

[Cut to PPTH hallway.]

House: Taub thinks it's a brain issue, Thirteen thinks it's multifocal.

Foreman: And neither of them wants to work here.

House: Don't take their word for it. Taub's problem is his wife, Thirteen's problem is you. Chase and Cameron's problem is the d*ad African dictator. None of them has a problem with the work.

Foreman: Cerebral vasculitis would explain both the eye and arm findings.

House: [nods] Steroids to treat, brain angiogram to confirm, EMG and nerve biopsy while you're at it. I'll be at lunch.

[Cut to the cafeteria.]

House: [to Wilson] I'd hire all four, but a five-person team seems unwieldy. Who would you turn down? [to cashier] I'll have whatever he's buying.

Wilson: Two cheeseburgers and two large fries. There are a thousand people in the world who want to be on your staff, but you're going after the four who don't.

[House takes an unwrapped toothpick from the unsanitary dispenser and starts playing with it.]

House: They don't because their lives are irrelevantly and annoyingly complicated, which makes them confused, which makes them make poor decisions.

Wilson: And your life is simple? You went all the way up to the medical conference to cozy up to Cuddy. Instead she's dating one of two people in the world you think of as a friend. There's no way that's not devastating.

House: So I had an attraction of sorts.

Wilson: Yeah, the sort in which your imaginary tryst landed you in a mental hospital.

House: And I got help. And she got Lucas, who bought me a ginger ale. It's all fine. Which won't be true of my department unless I can figure out which doctor I’m not hiring.

Wilson: I suppose throwing yourself into your work isn't the worst thing you could do. [Takes his food and heads for the tables.]

House: [interested] What is the worst thing I could do?

[Cut to locker room. Chase and Cameron are packing up.]

Foreman: House thinks it's cerebral vasculitis. If you could just do the brain angio while I finish up the blood work –

Chase: We're out the door.

Foreman: He's got me running every test and treatment by myself.

Cameron: Which is why you should be out the door too. This is completely unreasonable, even for House.

Foreman: [taking a step closer to Chase] You owe me this.

[Chase looks at him, then at Cameron.]

[Cut to an elevator. Chase and Cameron are wearing lab coats.]

Chase: Thank you.

Cameron: [reading chart] You really believe this is cerebral vasculitis?

Chase: Could be.

[The elevator dings. They start down the hall.]

Cameron: House wants to thread a catheter through his brain, which could cause a vasospasm, give steroids, which could spread infection all over the place, because it could be.

Chase: Sounds like House.

Cameron: It could also be a severe vitamin D deficiency. He has a restrictive diet, works long hours indoors, became hypocalcemic, got tetany and photophobia.

Chase: Are you saying I shouldn't do the angio?

Cameron: House ordered it, Foreman wants it, of course we should do it. I'm just saying we're right to leave.

Chase: You sure? Because right now I’ll basically do anything you ask me.

Cameron: I'm not interested in guilting you. We're moving on.

Chase: Right after I take the patient to the phototherapy suite, blast him in ultraviolet light, and IV vitamins for his severe vitamin D deficiency.

[Cameron grins widely as she follows him down the hall.]

[Cut to phototherapy suite. Chase is hanging an IV for Hank. Lexa, Hank’s wife takes his robe as he strips down to his boxers.]

Chase: So do you guys actually work together?

Hank: We did at first, but now we like to keep our films produced separate.

Chase: So do you, uh, watch her work?

Hank: We're both busy with our own stuff. Think what you want, but we're proud of what we do.

Cameron: Divorcing sex from all emotional content?

Lexa: Emotion is emotional. Sex is mechanical. There doesn't really need to be any overlap.

[Hank steps into the ultraviolet booth.]

Cameron: Certainly not in your world.

Hank: We've helped a lot of couples by taking sex out of some deep, dark dungeon. Do what you want without some big, moral comeuppance. [He puts on a pair of goggles.]

Chase: You think you can escape the consequences, but you can't. You don't get to make your own rules or morals.

Lexa: Well, you're here to treat him, not lecture us about our – Hank. Are you all right? [His nose is bleeding. He rubs the blood off.] Are you okay?

Chase: Just a nosebleed.

[Hank takes off the goggles and steps out of the booth, holding his nose tightly.]

Cameron: Inside his leg? Petechial hemorrhages.

Chase: We were wrong. So was Foreman.

[Cut to Diagnostics Conference Room. House has his chin resting on his fist, which is on the table. He’s staring at a laptop. Cameron enters, followed by Chase and Foreman.]

Cameron: Patient's blood won't clot. We're back to square one.

House: And you're back in my office. So much for playing hard to get.

Chase: We're just here to help Foreman.

[Based on the music and moaning coming from the computer, House has found a legitimate reason to watch p*rn at work.]

Cameron: Is that –

House: He's not without talent.

Foreman: UV rays made the patient's capillaries more fragile, hastening the onset of D.I.C. Sounds like sepsis –

House: But isn't. No sign of shock. No drop in blood pressure.

Chase: Can we turn that off?

House: Right, 'cause Cameron thinks p*rn is evil.

Chase: I don't care what he does. I don't care what you watch. I just think it's annoying that he pretends it's some beautiful life we should all be aspiring to.

[Chase closes the computer, stopping the music and moaning.]

Chase: Left shift points to bacteremia.

Cameron: No fever. Plus it wouldn't explain his spasmodic muscle contractions.

House: The ball and chain smacked you down.

Cameron: But widespread petechial rash, nervous system involvement. It's some kind of blood infection. Meningococcemia.

House: Start the patient on heparin for the D.I.C. broad-spectrum antibiotics for the meningococcemia. [Chase and Foreman leave, followed by Cameron.] Dr. Cameron. [She stops.] Chase is relaxed, at ease, in lockstep with you again. I guess he finally told you that he iced Idi Amin Junior. Does that mean he can break the other nine commandments too? Taking the Lord's name in vain, sure, but coveting thy neighbor's wife? Is she hot?

Cameron: I've forgiven him.

House: Not for m*rder. Not you. Doesn't matter how evil Dibala was. By every conscience-hugging, Mother Teresa-loving bone in your body, you should be leaving him, not leaving with him.

Cameron: I thought your position was our leaving is a ruse.

House: We're not talking about my position, we're talking about yours, which doesn't add up.

Cameron: Here's what doesn't add up. If you were serious about staffing your team, you would know exactly which three fellows you wanted. You plowed ahead with this case even though you hadn't hired new fellows because you knew Foreman would ask Chase and me to help, giving you more time to blow up our marriage.

House: I don't want that. But we'd be foolish not to plan ahead. A: my f*ring Chase was the only reason you left two years ago, B: when the full horror of his homicide hits you, your marriage will blow up. And Z... The only obstacle to you working here will be gone. Or maybe I skipped a couple of letters.

[Cameron leaves, looking fed up.]

[Cut to Hank’s room. Chase is wearing a gown and gloves. Hank has a bandage covering his nostrils.]

Chase: Meningococcemia's spread person-to-person. Something you ought to think about next time you show up for work.

Hank: It's okay. [whispering conspiratorially] Your wife's not here.

Chase: I'm just telling you what –

Hank: You have to lecture me when she's around, I get it. But I can tell from all the questions you ask that you're more like me than you admit.

Chase: I'm a guy. I look around every once in a while, but I love my wife. I love the fact that she's the only one that I’m intimate with.

Hank: And no part of you wants to just toss this rulebook everyone's forced on you?

Chase: No part of you wants a life of actual commitment?

Hank: Is my relationship perfect? No. Am I ever horny when my wife has just had sex for nine hours? [Chase laughs.] Yes. But we are committed to each other, in every way that matters.

Chase: In other words you're committed, except when you're not committed. Doesn't work so well if you have a conscience.

Hank: Conscience. You mean that thing that kicks in when there's no logical reason to behave the way people want you to? [beeping] What?

Chase: You have a fever. Means the antibiotics aren't working.

[Cut to Taub’s waiting room.]

Taub: Mr. [reading from a clipboard] Takayama.

House: [dropping the magazine he had his nose buried in] Yes. I'm really happy with what the last guy did with my eyes. But why would broad-spectrum antibiotics fail to work on meningococcemia?

Taub: If you'll excuse me, I've got a real patient. Mister... h*tler. Really.

House: Had to do something to amuse myself while your receptionist fought with her boyfriend.

Taub: Who's next?

[Mr. Klingman, a large man, stands up.]

House: A guy who needs two decades' worth of corn chips Hoovered out of his neck, or a guy who can't stand daylight, and whose blood won't clot. You do the triage.

Mr. Klingman: Who's the jerk?

Taub: Someone with zero chance of hiring me back. [to House] I told you. I'm content at home and at work.

House: But you're not content with content. That's why you got sucked into those stock scams, why you cheated on the wife you love.

Taub: At bridge. My wife and I play a lot of bridge.

House: Why you worked on a case last time I was here.

Taub: I gave you a theory. Just like I’d help a guy who needs a Heimlich in a restaurant. And then I shut the door behind you.

House: But you'd knock over three other doctors to give it to him. Metaphorically speaking, you're a Heimlich addict.

Taub: And you're an addiction addict. Right now your drug of choice is your old team, and like any addict you're trying to solve some other problem and it's not gonna work. If you'll excuse me, I have a –

House: You have a tight schedule of nose jobs and tummy tucks.

Taub: Yes. I do nose jobs. Just like the guy who came here after a car crash, Couldn't even breathe through… his... [He has an idea. House waits for it.] Antibiotics wouldn't work if his sinuses were infected and clogged. If there was a pocket of bacteria his blood vessels couldn't reach. You surgically drain his sinuses, the drugs will work.

House: Nice. Tell me that didn't feel good. [leaving] See you tomorrow.

Taub: [shouting after him] Not coming back.

[Cut to a café with soft music playing. Thirteen is at the counter, organizing her vacation photos in an album. Foreman comes up behind her.]

Foreman: Looks like quite a trip.

Thirteen: [looks at him briefly then back at the photos] It was. House send you to talk to me?

Foreman: No.

Thirteen: Then there's nothing to talk about. I don't want to work for him.

Foreman: You're a great doctor. House is right to want you in the mix.

Thirteen: Are you saying this because you still have feelings for me and you want me to come back?

Foreman: I'm saying that shouldn't be an issue.

Thirteen: Do you have feelings for me or not?

Foreman: I don't want our work life to have anything to do with our personal life.

Thirteen: You couldn't keep them separate. And that's why our personal life doesn't exist.

Foreman: None of that has to –

Thirteen: I can't work with you.

Foreman: Actually, you can. I was the one who had the problem. I don't anymore. [He leaves.]

[Cut to OR. Hank is unconscious, on the table, while Chase is roto-rootering his nose. Chase looks up briefly when House’s voice comes over the intercom.]

House: I owe you an apology. I was wr-rr-r... I was wrr-r-rr...

Chase: What were you wrong about?

House: You spent weeks elaborately concealing the fact that you... [decides to use a euphemism for the others present] crashed daddy's car. And then you just confessed. Seemed idiotic. Certain to end in disaster. Instead you're riding off into the sunset together. Any theories on why?

Chase: I assume you've already dismissed the "she loves me" theory?

House: Well, it's possible. It would require the presupposition that everything she's done for the last six years has been completely inconsistent with her character, but yeah, it's possible.

Chase: And as we've already established, it's also possible that you're wrong.

House: Or there's another explanation. Since you don't have one, I’m gonna keep looking for you. [He turns the intercom off with his cane.]

Chase: [to someone in the OR] Let him drain, then pack it with anesthetics and sterile gauze.

[Cut to the Clinic. Cuddy is as the desk as Wilson charges in and approaches her.]

Wilson: Do you have any idea what's going on with House?

Cuddy: Uh, he's trying to get his old fellows back?

Wilson: It's called stalking.

Cuddy: I am way too busy to play officer of the court.

Wilson: That's a shame, since you're the one who triggered this. [She give him an “I don’t believing you” look.] What do you see in Lucas anyway?

Cuddy: I don't see that it's any of your business.

Wilson: Did you think House wouldn't find out? You could've at least told me so I wouldn't have coached him on how to prove his worthiness to you.

Cuddy: I know you're upset with me because I didn't choose to date your best friend. But I’m living my life. And for the first time I’m not gonna change that because of how it might affect him… or you.

[Cut to Cuddy’s house. Lucas is there.]

Cuddy: I feel like crap.

Lucas: Yeah, look, our relationship is gonna be about House, or it's gonna be about us. I vote for it being about us.

Cuddy: Well, House is gonna make it about him for us.

Lucas: This is very insulting. You're apparently shocked by this, which means that you thought that there was some way that we could date, get married, have two kids, a dog, retire to Florida, all without House finding out. Or you thought that we wouldn't date all that long. First means you're delusional. The second means I’m delusional. Technically it could also mean you thought House had matured, but then we're back to your being –[He whistles and point to his head, indicating “crazy.}]

Cuddy: Shut up. You're right. I’m sorry.

Lucas: I'm also flattered. Yeah, 'cause you acted all cool and everything with Wilson, but you feel comfortable enough with me that you can freak out. That's cool.

[He lounges on the couch. She smiles. He reaches out and pulls him onto the couch next to him.]

[Cut to Hank’s room. Chase and Cameron are there.]

Chase: His sinuses are clear. Antibiotics should work this time. Why did you forgive me? I mean, I’m-I’m glad. I’m grateful, but I’m confused. You've been harder on the patient than you've been on me.

Cameron: Well, the difference between you and the patient is that you feel shame. Guilt. That's how I know we're gonna get through this.

Hank: [groaning] My stomach. Oooooh. It really hurts. Oh...

[Cameron checks his torso then turns to Chase.]

Cameron: His liver’s failing.

[Cut to Diagnostics. The original team is at the table.]

Chase: His liver's failing and his abdomen keeps filling with fluid, so –

Cameron: It's not meningococcemia.

House: [at the window by the coffee maker] No matter how much you finish each other's sentences, don't count on being a diagnostic package deal.

Foreman: Patient's liver's not working. We don't have time for your little team-stakes.

Chase: Sometimes you're just wr-rr-r-wrong. Something genetic, something in his family history we overlooked?

Foreman: History and genetics are spotless. Plus every time he had a bad cough as a kid he went to a doctor.

Cameron: Klatskin tumor, obstructing his bile ducts?

Foreman: No jaundice. Wouldn't have ocular effects.

Chase: But if it's inflammation inside the bile channels, sclerosing cholangitis.

Cameron: Could've stopped him from producing clotting proteins, damaged his blood cells, causing small strokes.

House: [loudly, overacting] Enough! Enough! Stop pummeling Thirteen and Taub. [normally] It fits. Prep the patient for an ERCP. See if there's any hope of opening his blocked bile channels. And tell him to start looking for a liver donor. [Chase starts to follow the other two out] Dr. Chase. Your turn. So what'd she say?

Chase: She forgave me because I feel guilty.

House: That works too.

Chase: And now you expect me to ask you what the "too" refers to.

House: Only if you're interested. Only if you have doubts about her answer. [Chase turns to leave.] She thinks that you don't have anything to feel guilty about, because you didn't k*ll anybody. I did. She blames me for Dibala's m*rder, not you.

Chase: You were barely involved in that case. She knows that.

House: But I created the big, bad, evil climate that allowed it to happen.

Chase: You're wrong.

House: Powerful counter-argument.

Chase: Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to screw things up?

House: You got the tense wrong. Things are already screwed up. Which is why you don't just want to work for me, you need to. Cameron thinks you're my personal sock puppet. If you don't stay, it's gonna be hard to prove you're not. I have to go.

[He leaves. Chase thinks.]

[Cut to a gym. Dance music is playing. House, fully dressed and with his cane, walks on a treadmill at about 2 miles an hour.]

House: [to the guy on the next treadmill] Last week, my cane could only do ten minutes.

Thirteen: [approaching from the other side] What are you doing here?

House: Waiting for you to take a nap so I can surge into the lead. [She walks away. He stops walking and slides off the end of the treadmill, both feet hitting the floor simultaneously. He follows her to a machine.] What's the best way to restore the liver in someone with sclerosing cholangitis?

Thirteen: [doing sit ups] Not getting drawn into this.

House: You already are.

Thirteen: Because you crashed my workout?

House: You're doing core training. Which improves balance, which staves off the most debilitating symptoms of Huntington's. You've ended your self-destructive streak. Want to do something significant, something that'll last longer than the few years you have left. My team is your first-best choice.

Thirteen: And my first choice is the community health clinic I interviewed with yesterday.

House: Absolutely, you should do that. Three hours a week. Every doctor should 'cause every doctor can. But you don't want to be every doctor. Plus, on my team, you get to screw with Foreman. Every way but literally.

Thirteen: Why are you doing it this way? You're pretending to assume we're all coming back without actually asking us. Why?

House: See, this is why you'd be miserable wiping noses in a clinic.

Thirteen: [stands and faces him] You can't ask because you can't face the rejection. Why not? What's going on?

House: Are you asking me to ask you?

Thirteen: I'm saying you shouldn't, for your sake as well as mine.

[Cut to Hank’s room.]

Cameron: We don't know how much the sclerosing cholangitis has damaged your liver. It might be in a year, it might be in ten. But the odds are you're gonna need a new one. And you should know, while no transplant committee will say this openly, they'll never grant an organ to someone working in your profession.

Hank: You're saying I have to change jobs? You're medically advising me to change jobs.

Lexa: Hank, if you're too sick –

Hank: She wants me to have some kind of religious conversion. She's practically salivating over it.

Cameron: I'm just being candid about –

Hank: So you don't think I’m scum. Just some committee thinks I’m scum.

Cameron: That your lifestyle has risks.

Hank: You work around more sick people and germs and blood than I do. I’m not gonna live my life afraid like my parents did. Barely letting me play outside and God forbid that I get a scratch.

Lexa: I'll talk to him. He'll calm down and realize that this is the only –

Hank: No. No, I won't. Why does everyone want to dictate the way I live my life?

Lexa: Because the way we're living is gonna k*ll you.

[He slumps back on his bed.]

[Cut to the OR. Chase is doing a procedure on Hank. Foreman stands by.]

Chase: Passing the pancreatic duct...

Foreman: Don't listen to House.

Chase: You have no idea what he said.

Foreman: I know that House is manipulative. I know that you're in a vulnerable state right now, and I know that Cameron wants your marriage to work. So do you. So don't listen to House.

Chase: House doesn't make my decisions. We're in the common bile duct.

Foreman: [looking at the screen] What's that mass? Gallstone?

Chase: Can we magnify times five? [Foreman adjusts the monitor.] That's not a gallstone.

[Worms are crawling all over the place on the screen.]

Foreman: His liver's completely filled with worms.

[Cut to Hank’s room.]

Chase: You have strongyloides, also known as threadworms. They disseminated all over your body, causing all your symptoms.

Hank: How'd I get a parasite?

Chase: Most likely through sexual activity, but we can't be sure.

Lexa: And… w-what's the treatment?

Chase: Two mebendazole pills.

Hank: That's it?

Chase: You'll be fine. Your liver too. Go back to your lives.

[Hank and Lexa laugh happily as he swallows the pills.]

[Cut to the doctors’ lounge. Chase enter and see Lucas spread out on the sofa, reading.]

Chase: You know this is the doctors’ lounge.

Lucas: I know. It seemed like the place to read doctors' notes. You are good at it, by the way.

Chase: [grabbing the file from Lucas] Why are you reading my charts?

Lucas: Because I’m worried about my girlfriend.

Chase: Your girlfriend... is a male p*rn star?

Lucas: Oh, no, I’m dating Lisa Cuddy.

Chase: Seriously?

Lucas: Cool, huh? And if House doesn't have his team, that'll make her miserable, which will make me miserable. Which brings us to the fact that you have elevated noting to an art form.

Chase: I see the connection.

Lucas: Most doctors write "9:00 a.m." if they scrub in at 9:00 or anything near it. You write 9:03, and you make little notations when procedures are delayed.

[He gives Chase a “thumbs up.” Chase smiles.]

Chase: You're easily impressed.

Lucas: [picking up another chart] Well, yeah. I was, till I saw that you had virtually stopped writing them about four weeks ago.

Chase: Been busy. Got a backlog.

Lucas: Yeah... People with your level of precision don't really just "get" backlogs. No one knows why you're leaving PPTH.

Chase: Because it's personal.

Lucas: Well, if something happened, I mean, if you're leaving to get away from something that you did, or she did, or both of you did. I mean, emotionally maybe you want to run away, but in my experience, if you're staring at a pit bull in some guy's back yard, you're better off staying right where you are. Face the problem. That way it can't bite you in the ass.

Chase: Thanks for the folksy wisdom.

[He takes his charts and starts to leave.]

Lucas: Hey, you got any, uh, dirt on any of the other three? It'd really help me out.

[Chase looks at him and leaves without answering.]

[Cut to Hank’s room. A monitor beeps while he vomits tons of white, foamy stuff into an emesis basin Cameron is holding.]

Lexa: I thought you said those two pills was all he needed!

Cameron: Lungs are filling with fluid.

Chase: Suction him and get him on oxygen.

[Cut to Diagnostics]

Chase: Patient's lungs are severely compromised. Liver's still failing.

Cameron: Worms could easily have been a coincidence. Almost be surprising if he didn't have 'em.

Chase: Which means it could be a hematological problem plus cardiomyopathy.

House: No, neck veins are flat, precordial exam was normal.

Foreman: What if it's lymphoma? Peritoneal carcinomatosis explains the liver failure. Paraneoplastic syndrome explains everything else.

House: Lymphoma it is. Prep him for chemo. Fax Taub and Thirteen the latest update on the case.

Cameron: [disbelieving] Seriously?

House: They have as much right to know as anyone on the team.

Cameron: You either like the diagnosis or you don't. If you don't, we need to keep talking. If you do, you need to shut up. What we don't need is this stupid game.

[She leaves. Chase stares at House, then follows her.]

[Cut to Chase and Cameron walking down the hallway.]

Chase: You're mad at House, but you're not mad at me.

Cameron: Do you want me to be mad at you?

Chase: You blame House. Not me.

Cameron: I am mad at House because he's an ass. And I am mad at you, but I don't want to leave you.

Chase: What I did may be the worst thing I ever did. It may be the best. I'm either a m*rder or a guy who stopped a mass m*rder, but I did it. Me. And even if it destroys me, I’d do it again today.

Cameron: You don't mean that. This isn't you.

Chase: I'm not running away from what I did because you want to pretend I never did it.

Cameron: If that's how you feel... Okay.

[Cut to Wilson’s living room. House is in the chair he was in when he first confronted Amber in Don’t Ever Change.]

House: My strategy's not completely working. All four of them want to work for me, but all four of them have reasons why they don't want to work for me. How do I get them to take one from column A and none from column B? [Wilson is looking for something and not answering House.] Right. Right, by not saying anything, you're saying that the answer is inside me.

Wilson: The answer has nothing to do with the question.

House: Then it's not technically the answer.

Wilson: Why do you need three of these doctors?

House: Because I know they're good. Other doctors fall into the "might be good" category.

Wilson: It has nothing to do with them being good. You think they're idiots half the time, but they're comfortable. You feel abandoned by Cuddy, so you're reaching out to people you know for comfort.

House: Oh, my God, you're right. I don't need doctors at all. I just need a good friend. [He turns his head and “cries,” holding his hand to his mouth.]

Wilson: Cuddy's right. Maybe, just maybe, if I don't play along, you'll realize you can't solve a deeper problem with a surface solution.

House: Would've been more profound if you hadn't said anything.

[Wilson turns away.]

[Cut to the ICU. Foreman works on Hank. Chase sits nearby.]

Foreman: You okay?

Chase: Getting through it.

Foreman: Be a lot easier once you two are away from here.

Chase: Yeah. [Hank groans.] He's peeing blood. [monitor beeps] BP's rising.

Foreman: Heart rate's up to 250. He's going into cardiac arrest.

[Foreman removes the pillow from under Hank’s head as Chase grabs the defibrillator paddles from a nurse.]

Chase: Charging. Clear.

Foreman: He's bleeding out.

Chase: His body's completely giving out. Charging. clear.

[Cut to Diagnostics. House is playing with a big rubber band.]

Cameron: We've got him s*ab, but no red cells, no white cells, practically no platelets either.

Chase: Mebendazole can cause adverse effects, but nothing like this.

Foreman: He's been off 'em since yesterday, anyway.

House: Long passes, wild guesses, anything.

Chase: Hypopituitarism. Could cause multi-organ failure if –

House: If his thyroid hormone wasn't completely normal.

Cameron: Renal cell carcinoma.

House: Renal ultrasound was clean.

Foreman: I'd say aleukemic leukemia. Marrow's not making enough normal cells –

House: Ablate the patient's bone marrow. Find him a donor match.

Cameron: You want to nuke the patient's marrow? He had no evidence of being anemic or immune-compromised when he was admitted.

Chase: Perfect white count as well.

Foreman: Ablation could k*ll him or leave him defenseless against an infection that could.

House: Well, then come up with something better. [Cameron sighs.] He may as well die while we're treating him. [He heads to his office.] Okay with you if I bring the other candidates into the loop now?

[Cut to Taub’s office. He is talking to a patient.]

Taub: The risks are, uh, they're really minimal. We'll do a series of painless injections, and – [the fax machine beeps] Excuse me. [He removes the paper from the fax and drops it in the trash.] The whole thing can be done as an outpatient.

[Cut to Thirteen’s apartment. She turns her head as her fax machine beeps. A page slides out. The counter is full of pages she hasn’t picked up. The new sheet slides off them and onto the floor. She goes back to typing on her computer.]

[Cut to the lobby. Cuddy comes out to confront House who has his jacket on. He picks up some messages.]

Cuddy: You're leaving at 11:00 a.m.?

House: Trust me, the case is almost over.

Cuddy: Foreman told me you're ablating the patient's marrow, on a non-theory that Foreman himself withdrew. You're gonna k*ll the patient. Is this about me and Lucas? [He looks at her and leaves. She follows.] I want alternatives for the patient.

House: So do I.

[Cut to Wilson’s apartment building. Chase is sitting on the steps outside.]

Chase: I want to be on the team.

House: You think that's gonna save your marriage?

Chase: I don't know.

House: Four candidates, three spots. I got a tough decision ahead of me.

[He walks past Chase and into the building.]

[Cut to a PPTH hallway. Foreman pushes Hank down the hall on a stretcher. Lexa is on one side, holding his hand, Cameron walk along on the other side. There’s some fancy photographic effects as they jump from the far end of the hall to the near end and then rotate upside down.]

[Cut to Thirteen’s apartment. The phone rings as she sorts through her mail. She lets the machine pick up.]

Dr. Turner: [on answering machine]: Hi. Remy, this is Dr. Turner from the Pennsauken Free Clinic. We all loved meeting you, and, well, the job's yours. Call me back. Let's pick a start date.

[She walks to the fax machine and picks up the top sheet. It’s on Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, Department of Diagnostics letterhead and is full of neatly typed information. At the bottom, where it says “Diagnosis” House has written “Macro” something. She sits on the arm of her couch and starts to read.]

[Cut to Taub’s office. He’s with a patient.]

Phyllis: I want it to look natural. I mean, much younger, but natural. Can you get rid of the crow's feet altogether? Or is it better to leave a trace of them? [flirting] I don't look old enough to have them anyway, do I?

Taub: [not really listening] Absolutely.

Phyllis: I do look old enough?

Taub: No. What? I’m sorry. Hang on a second.

[He turns, retrieves the faxes from the trash and starts reading.]

[Cut to treatment room. Hank is on the table. In the other room, Cameron is operating the computer while Foreman, Chase and House stand by.]

Foreman: Why are you here?

House: 'Cause I think we're wrong. Which means something's gonna go wrong. [His cell phone rings.] Or right. Takayama here.

[Intercut between Taub, in his office, Thirteen in her apartment and the hospital.]

Taub: It's me and Thirteen. Stop the ablation.

[House signals for Cameron to stop. He puts his phone on the table and turns on the speaker.]

House: Because?

Thirteen: Those threadworms. Why would his body have gone to hell just hours after they were gone?

Taub: The worms weren't hurting him. They were helping him. He has extraintestinal Crohn's. He got it from being raised in a too clean, too overprotective of an environment.

Thirteen: It's the hygiene hypothesis. Why there's so much autoimmune disease in the developed world, and almost none in the developing world.

Taub: The worms were keeping the Crohn's in check, teaching his immune system what it should've learned from eating dirt growing up.

Thirteen: Once you k*lled them, it started k*lling him.

House: So his life of filth wasn't the problem. Clean living was. Let's start him on methylprednisolone.

Taub: And some helminths.

House: Worms. Cool, huh? [He hangs up the phone and gestures to Chase, Cameron and Foreman.] Best out of three?

[Cut to House’s office at night. He’s lounging behind his desk, watching his computer. Taub enters.]

p*rn actress: Have you been a bad boy? [laughter and music]

[House turns off the video with his cane.]

Taub: I want to be on the team.

House: Good news for your wife.

Taub: Thanks for the sarcasm. I reorganized my life to spend more time with her, but apparently I don't love her as much as I thought.

House: Or you love her more. This job gives you the thrill you used to find through philandering. Better to cheat with a beaker and an MRI than one of your platinum-blonde plastic surgery patients. I'll let you know.

Chase: I told House I want to work for him again. Stay on the team. You were always more into it than I was, more interested in diagnostics. Unless House was right about why you want out.

[Taub turns to leave. Thirteen is there. House smiles.]

[Cut to the locker room. Cameron is folding up the last of her clothes. Chase comes in.]

Chase: I told House I want to work for him again. [She looks at him, surprised.] Stay on the team. You were always more into it than I was, more interested in diagnostics. Unless House was right about why you want out.

[They stare at each other.]

[Cut to House’s office. He’s packing up for the night, choosing which of Hank’s videos to put in his backpack. Cameron enters.]

House: [quietly] Four for four.

Cameron: I was in love with you. I was an idiot. Tried to be like you, tried to understand you because I thought I could heal you. [pause] You almost k*lled that patient.

House: If almost not saving his life means –

Cameron: You knew the diagnosis a long time ago. You risked another patient's life to bait your old team.

House: Another one?

Cameron: You did k*ll Dibala. By playing God and teaching us to do the same.

House: I taught you to think for yourselves.

Cameron: You don't even think of them as people. They're just lab rats for your little puzzles.

House: As you celebrate their humanity, I'd rather solve those little puzzles and save their lives.

Cameron: Motives do matter. Lives can't come second.

House: The patient is alive. That's what matters.

Cameron: Not to you. All you care about is that Taub and Thirteen fell for your game. You'll poison them just like you poisoned Chase.

House: Your husband k*lled a patient and you're breaking up with me.

Cameron: You ruined him. So he can't even see right from wrong. Can't even see the sanctity of a human life anymore. I loved you. [tearing up] And I loved Chase. I'm sorry for you both. [crying openly] For what you've become. Because... there's no way back for either of you.

[She sniffs a couple of times then pulls herself together. House stares at her. She sticks her hand out and he ignores it as he did when she quit at the end of Role Model. She steps forward and kisses him on the cheek. He hasn’t moved. She leaves. He follows her and stops in the doorway, watching her go.]

[Cut to Wilson’s office. He’s doing paperwork at his desk. House enters.]

House: Any idea where I can get a great, big "Mission Accomplished" banner? Got my sanity back, my license back, and now...

Wilson: [He thinks for a moment then realizes what House means.] You're kidding. All of them?

House: Three out of four. Which is almost as good as four out of five.

Wilson: Who was the –

House: Cameron.

Wilson: Wow. I can't believe it. I mean, really. I can't... believe it. You were right, House. Good for you.

House: Yeah, it is. She's broken up with Chase, and she's leaving the hospital. Still, three out of four ain't bad.

[He leaves.]

[Closing montage to Jets Overhead's Where Did You Go?]

[Thirteen hands Hank a glass of helminths (worm) in a clear liquid. He drinks it as she and Lexa look on. Thirteen looks at Foreman who is standing in the doorway. He leaves.]

[Taub comes home. He tells Rachel that he’s going back to work for House. She turns away, upset, while he continues to talk.]

[Chase sits in his living room. Cameron comes in. He turns to look at her. She comes over and gives him a very long hug. She stands, looking at him with one hand on her suitcase, then she leaves.]

[Lucas and Cuddy leaving the hospital. He runs his hand gently across her forehand, brushing her bangs away. She smiles at him, happy.]

[Pan up to the balcony above them. House leans on the railing, watching and thinking.]

[The End]
{"type": "series", "show": "House", "episode": "06x08 - Teamwork"}