Written by: Peter Blake
Directed by: David Straiton
Transcribed by: Jane (poeia)
DISCLAIMER: We don't own "HOUSE." It's owned by FOX and NBC/Universal, and produced by Heel and Toe Films and Bad Hat Harry Productions. This transcript is unofficial, and should UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES be copied or distributed, especially for commercial use.
[Open on two men in the back seat of a car. They are Dibala, the president of xxx and Joseph Ntila, one of his aides. It is raining outside]
Joseph: We will anger the Americans, slipping out like this.
Dibala: If your son was a student at one of the greatest universities in the world...
Joseph: So make him come to you. You're protected near the UN. Once we cross 42nd Street...
Dibala: As always, I appreciate your caution, Joseph, but, as always, you have far too much of it.
[The car crosses a bridge. Dibala looks out the window at the rain-soaked scenery. As the car turns a corner, a black van pulls up in front of it and stops, blocking their way. Another van pulls up behind them. Dibala, Joseph and the driver look around and realize they are trapped. The doors to the van in front of them slide open and a man steps out.]
Joseph: Stay down, sir. [He gets out of the car with his gun drawn. He quickly checks in all directions and then points his gun on the man from the van who is pulling something from his sweatshirt.] Get on the ground. Get on the ground.
[The man pulls out a clear plastic envelope with a paper inside. It says “Civil Subpoena.”]
Process Server: I'm just serving process. Your boss is being sued under title 18 of the United States code, section 1350, for genocide, crimes against humanity, and torture.
[He puts the envelope on the car and backs up. By this time Dibala is out of the car. He slams his door and advances on the process server who backs into the van. As the van door slams, it drives away. Joseph reaches for the subpoena but Dibala grabs it from him.]
Joseph: Mr. President. This is only a civil lawsuit. We can ignore it. [Dibala gags, mouth closed, a couple of times. He then violently throws up.] Mr. President.
[The envelope is covered with the blood Dibala threw up. It begins to wash away in the rain.]
[Cut to Cuddy’s office. She’s there with Foreman, Chase and Cameron. The later two are wearing scrubs.]
Chase: You want us to work for Foreman?
Cuddy: Not permanently. He is setting up interviews to replace Taub and Thirteen, but it might take a couple of weeks.
Chase: Well, what happened to them?
[Cuddy gestures that she’s turning the conversation over to Foreman and she goes behind her desk.]
Foreman: He quit, and I had to let her go.
[Cameron looks up.]
Chase: [incredulous] You actually fired your girlfriend?
Foreman: Yes. You two are both competent, and I know I can work with you.
Chase: You really do know how to woo.
Foreman: I need you.
Chase: [to Cameron] It would be interesting. We could work together.
Cameron: Did you see who the patient is?
Chase: That's one of the reasons it'll be interesting.
Cameron: Dibala is one of the most repressive dictators in the world.
Foreman: You had no problem treating a guy on death row.
Cameron: Who was still in prison after we patched him up. We fix Dibala, he gets on a plane and executes half his country. He's been repressing an ethnic rebellion in the south, the Sitibi people. [She looks back and forth between the two men.] It's getting worse.
Cuddy: Dibala is a guest of the US government. And he's been invited to speak at the UN. I’m not asking you to love him. I'm asking you to do your job.
[Cameron looks imploringly at Chase.]
[Cut to a hallway. Chase is reading the chart as he walks next to Foreman. Cameron is right behind them.]
Chase: Utterly incomprehensible. And, of course, I’m talking about you firing your girlfriend.
Foreman: We weren't getting along with her working under me.
Cameron: This'll help.
Chase: Cameron and I work together.
Foreman: But you weren't her boss. And you’ve stopped working together.
Chase: Why don't you just tell her you were wrong?
Foreman: 'Cause I wasn't. I know how this looks. I know it might break us up. But that's better than definitely breaking us up, which is what would have happened otherwise.
[Cut to the Diagnostics Conference Room as they enter.]
Foreman: Hemorrhagic ulcers in the lungs.
[They stop. House is at the end of the table, reading a chart. He looks up.]
House: Oh, my God, it's three years ago. Does that mean I’m still crazy?
Foreman: You're back?
Cameron: You look good.
Chase: We're just helping out because –
House: I know. I just ran into Thirteen while she was clearing out her locker. My condolences. Although it's not like she's the hottest woman in the world.
Foreman: [forcefully] We haven't broken up. Are you back?
House: Sort of.
Foreman: Did you get your license back?
House: Not for a month or so. So you'll be in charge. I'm just gonna pitch in a little.
Chase: [sitting] Dibala thinks it was an assassination attempt. Polonium, like the Russian guy in London.
Foreman: FBI checked the service of process forms and his hotel room. No radioactivity trails.
Cameron: [sitting] Acid reflux?
Chase: No history of asthma or heartburn.
Foreman: He has a bug bite on his hands. Malaria's endemic in his country. Let's start him on coartem.
[House clears his throat theatrically. Foreman stops on his way to the door and turns around.]
House: I don't want to step on any toes, but I guess I do have a higher duty to the patient.
Foreman: If you have something to say, say it.
House: You're rushing to a diagnosis because you're rushing out of this room because you're rightly upset with me. Although I wasn't the one who made that asinine decision to –
Foreman: Do you have anything medical to say?
House: Poison fits better because of the vomiting. Bug bite might not be a bite. It might be the start of chloracne.
Chase: Assassination attempt through dioxin poisoning. It's hard to detect. Fits.
[Everyone, including House, looks at Foreman.]
Foreman: Start him on olestra. [Chase and Cameron leave.] You couldn't have just said dioxin up front?
House: I was hoping you'd get there on your own. [Foreman glares at him.] So I guess we should talk to Cuddy.
[Cut to Dibala’s room. Cameron is adjusting his IV. Chase is fussing with the monitors.]
Dibala: You are sure it is dioxin?
Chase: It's our best guess. The olestra here binds to the poison, flushes it out of your system.
Dibala: Where are you from, doctor?
Chase: I'm Australian.
Dibala: Do I hear a bit of the British?
Chase: Most people don't notice it. Yeah, I-I kicked around there for a while.
[Cameron is watching the conversation with her arms folded.]
Dibala: You went to medical school there?
Chase: Actually a year of seminary.
Dibala: And you left. Hmm, hmm. There was a Catholic mission near my childhood village. I liked the priests. They were good people. But when my two younger sisters were dying from consumption, it wasn't more priests we wanted.
[Chase smiles slightly. Cameron rolls her eyes.]
[Cut to Cuddy’s office. House and Foreman are seated in front of her desk.]
Foreman: I fired my girlfriend because he said he was gone for good.
House: I need this in my life.
Cuddy: A week ago, it was the last thing you needed.
Houes: It's a process. I'm learning.
Foreman: And screwing me over as you go.
House: Yeah, that's why I did it. [He looks at Foreman.] Sorry. If you want, I’ll explain it to Thirteen.
Foreman: He's not ready. He doesn't have his license.
Cuddy: Then he can't practice. But we'd be idiots not to listen to him. You're in charge, he sits in on all the differentials. Until you get your license back, this is all unofficial. No procedures, no patient contact.
House: Think I can probably deal with that last one.
[There’s a knock on a door. Cut to Thirteen opening the door to her apartment. Foreman is there.]
Foreman: The only reason I let you go is because our relationship wouldn't work if I was in charge. But I won't be in charge soon, so... I came to offer you your old job back. I know. I look bad. But circumstances have changed.
Thirteen: I don't want the job.
Foreman: Why not?
Thirteen: Because there's a much simpler explanation for you firing me. You wanted to break up with me, but you were too weak to do it yourself.
Foreman: Then why would I try to hire you back? Can we please get some dinner tonight?
Thirteen: I'm sorry. [She closes the door.]
[Cut to Chase entering an exam room in the clinic. He’s reading the chart and looks puzzled.]
Chase: Uh, you're a follow-up?
Ruwe: You must not treat him. [Chase starts to leave.] Dibala killed my wife. She was a trade unionist. [He takes a picture from his wallet and shows it to Chase.] They took her from our home while I was at work.
Chase: Who took her?
Ruwe: Dibala's Youth Labor League. He pretends it's to get young people off the street. But he takes teenage boys from the provinces and feeds them drugs and alcohol and teaches them how to torture. They dumped her body in my yard two weeks later. They raped her. They carved inyenzi, cockroach, onto her stomach because she's Sitibi.
Chase: I'm very sorry, but I can't discuss other patients. You should talk to a lawyer, talk to the UN...
Ruwe: So they can sit and watch, like they did in Rwanda? There are 2 million Sitibi. He's planning to massacre them all. His radio stations are talking about a final war to exterminate the cockroaches. He can't recover.
Chase: I'm sorry. [He leaves.]
[Cut to Wilson’s apartment. He’s on the couch, eating. The TV is on, quietly. He doesn’t turn around when House comes in.]
Wilson: How was your first day of school?
House: Didn't pee once in the sandbox.
Wilson: How was it with Cuddy?
House: What did you think I was talking about? Hmmm. You didn't use garlic. You didn't use it last night either. We always use garlic on Chicken Florentine.
Wilson: It tastes fine this way.
House: You seem to be losing your sense of smell.
Wilson: I think you're losing your sense of mind.
House: I can check right now if you pull my finger. [He picks up the TV remote.]
Wilson: No, it's the – [He bats House’s hand down before he can change the TV settings then grabs the remote.] Are you inventing some big medical mystery here? Because if you're imagining things again...
House: You weren't wearing shoes last night either.
Wilson: Yes, shoes, garlic – I am vampire, Sookie.
[House bangs his cane on the floor four times. A moment later there are four metallic-sounding thumps in return.]
House: I told you to get that echo fixed.
Wilson: My downstairs neighbor, after you moved in, started complaining about the extra noise and the cooking smells.
House: What's his name?
Wilson: I don't want you making things worse. He's on the condo board, and I’m trying to get the back garden renovated.
House: The white coats taught me a whole bunch of fun coping and relating skills.
Wilson: He's not only a total jerk. He's a decorated war hero who lost an arm in Vietnam. I mean, there's no winning with this guy.
House: Coping skill number one… Complete avoidance. [His cell phone rings.] You happy? [answering phone] Booty call? Give me 20 minutes to not shower.
Cameron: [in Dibala’s room] Patient's having a heart attack.
Chase: Mask at 15 liters.
Cameron: Just thought you'd like to know.
Chase: [to nurse] Streptokinase, heparin.
[There are a bunch of serious-looking men in the room, watching them.]
[Cut to Diagnostics Conference Room. House sticks his head in. The others are already there.]
House: Lassa fever. You were mad that I withheld it last time, so I’m saying it right up front. He's already stabilized, so 40 CCs of ribavirin, and we're home in time for Ellen.
Foreman: I checked. There's no Lassa in Dibala's country.
Foreman: The rash is gone. It rules out your dioxin theory. He's running a slight fever, which we can add to the heart, plus the lung ulcers.
[House raises his left arm very high – like a second grader trying to get the teacher’s attention.]
Chase: Ebola? Marburg?
Cameron: Too long an incubation period. And… [She points at House.]
Foreman: [to House] Yes?
House: Don't people sometimes travel? To places that have, you know, a fever that originated in the Nigerian town of Lassa?
Foreman: He's been to three other countries in the last two years: here, Zimbabwe, and Sharm El-Sheikh, Egypt. No Lassa there either.
House: Oh. [pause] Again.
Foreman: No sleep disturbances. But fits best with the symptoms. [House’s hand is raised again and he’s making an urgent face like the second grader needs to go to the bathroom.] And it's geographically the most – [to House] What?
House: The Egypt visit was for the African Union Meeting, Where I’m guessing he was [miming quotation marks] meeting people from [more quotation marks] Africa. Which includes Liberia, which sent some members of their Foreign Ministry, which has itself just been hit by an outbreak of jock itch. No, wait. Not jock itch. Lassa fever.
Foreman: I'll start the ribavirin. [He gets up to leave.]
House: I did say it up front. It's great to have the old team back together again, huh?
[Chase “salutes” him with his coffee mug. Foreman leaves.]
[Cut to Dibala’s room.]
Joseph: Yesterday, it's poisoning. Today, Lassa fever. Maybe a specialist –
Dibala: Joseph! Leave him alone. These people know what they are doing. Are you married, doctor?
Dibala: You have a girlfriend.
Dibala: Judging by your tentative answer and the complicated expression on her face, I believe that is she, standing in the hallway. [Thirteen half waves from the nurses’ station.]
[Cut to nurses’ station.]
Thirteen: I got a call from Douglas' department at Princeton General. They want me to interview with them. Which is weird, because when I called last week, they said they had nothing available. So I never sent in my resume.
Foreman: Douglas owes me a favor.
Thirteen: Most people send chocolates.
Foreman: I'd stand outside your apartment all night holding up a boom box, except you told me you hate '80s music.
[She smiles. There’s a long pause while she thinks.]
Thirteen: So... about dinner, I'm free tomorrow night.
[Cut to Murphy standing in the lobby of Wilson’s apartment building. House unlocks the front door and enters. He sees that Murphy has his mail in his left hand and a metal prosthesis where his right hand was. House makes a wide circle around him and inspects the wall on his way to the mailboxes. As he turns back, Murphy is right there. House starts.]
Murphy: I was wondering what that noise was. It's the damn cane.
House: And I’m Greg.
Murphy: And I can't sleep with you banging around with that thing.
House: You're not actually saying that I have too loud a cane?
Murphy: Is that hard for you to understand?
House: Only in the sense that it has a rubber tip on the end, not a tap shoe.
Murphy: Now you're getting cute with me.
House: Okay, we started badly. I apologize for the noise, and we will try to figure out a way to be quieter –
Murphy: And a thousand other things I don't give a crap about. Now you keep it down, or we're gonna have trouble.
House: [whispers] Wow.
[Cut to Dibala’s room. A woman is standing, eyes downcast, between the men in the room. Cameron enters.]
Cameron: You paged me?
Dibala: This is Ama. She is from our country, but she lives here now. We'd like you to use her blood.
Cameron: For what?
Dibala: She recovered from Lassa fever two years ago. Our health minister has advised us that plasma from one who has the antibodies is much more effective than ribavirin.
Joseph: [holding up a piece of paper] This is a signed consent form. Will you take her blood, please?
[Cut to Cuddy’s office. Cameron and Ama are there.]
Ama: I want to do this.
Cuddy: You understand that we would be using your blood to cure president Dibala.
Ama: I know.
Cameron: Are you from the Sitibi people?
Ama: I am Sitibi.
Cameron: Did they threaten you in some way? Your-your family members back home?
Ama: [to Cuddy] Please let me give the blood. Please.
Cuddy: Do it.
Cameron: She's being coerced.
Cuddy: If she is, I’d rather have a needle prick on my conscience than the death of her family members.
[Cut to the hallway near Dibala’s room. Chase is at the nurses’ station reading a chart. He looks up and sees an orderly wheeling a cart. He stares for a moment then starts to run – in slow motion – toward the orderly who he realizes is Ruwe. He drops the chart on the floor as he goes.]
Chase: Hey! Don't let him in there! [He rounds the corner to the room as two gunshots are heard.]
[Cut to Dibala’s room. As Chase enters, Ruwe is knocked to the floor and Joseph begins beating him. Dibala watches, impassively. There’s a gun on the floor near his head. There’s a bullet hole in the wall and another one through Dibala’s monitor. Agent Bass, an American who is one of the ever-present men in the room, tries to pull Joseph off.]
Bass: That's enough! We got him.
Chase: [helping get Joseph away from Ruwe] Hey! [to Ruwe as Bass picks up the gun] You all right?
Dibala: Who is that man?
[Chase shines a flashlight in Dibala’s eyes. The right one is bloody. The left one looks normal.]
Bass: He shot him?
[Cut to the hallway. Chase sits with Ruwe on a bench. Ruwe’s face is a bloody mess. Chase pulls on gloves as he starts to examine him.]
Chase: You need a lawyer. You can get a court-appointed. They can help you.
Ruwe: I can't be helped.
Chase: You did a stupid, terrible thing. But given the circumstances with your wife… You could get a reduced sentence.
Ruwe: She wasn't my wife.
Chase: Then who was she?
Ruwe: They never told us her name. [Chase stares at him, questioning.] What his men made us do to that woman… He is now going to do… to all the Sitibi.
[Chase looks at Ruwe as what he means sinks in.]
[Cut to Chase and Cameron’s bedroom. Chase is taking off his shirt, getting ready for bed.]
Cameron: You could have gotten killed.
Chase: He wasn't going to hurt me.
Cameron: He fired a gun in the hospital.
Chase: Come here.
[He hugs her tight. He looks fine. She looks troubled.]
Cameron: Maybe next time don't yell out that warning. [His forehead wrinkles at that thought.]
[Cut to the Diagnostics Conference Room the next morning.
Foreman: The bloody eye was from an enlarged lymph node blocking the retinal vein. We restored circulation, but it means we've got to add lymph involvement to the heart, lungs, and rising fever.
House: I'm just gonna sit here quietly.
House: I feel like I’ve been inadvertently undermining your authority, so I’m just gonna observe. Not gonna say a word. [He “zips” his lips.]
Foreman: The heart could point to sarcoidosis.
[House clears his throat very loudly. He pulls an x-ray from its sleeve and holds it up while looking at the ceiling.]
Chase: I'm thinking the x-rays indicate a lack of hilar adenopathy, which rules it out.
[House puts the x-ray back on the table.]
Foreman: Staph aureus?
[House makes an exaggerated unhappy face.]
Chase: No. [House looks at him and shakes his fist several times.] Because… [House opens his mouth and points his finger inside.] He… [He closes his mouth around the tip of his finger.] Smokes?
[House drops his hand to the table and gives Chase an exasperated look.]
Foreman: He's miming a thermometer. He says the fever's not high enough.
[House makes a happy face.]
Chase: So some other infection.
[Two thumbs up.]
Foreman: He's wrong. The fever could be misleading us into thinking infection.
[House sighs loudly and makes a dejected face.]
[House shakes his head and his finger. He mimes being a mime – feeling an invisible wall.]
Foreman: It could all fit with lymphoma.
[House closes one eye, thinking. He raises his right arm so the upper arm is parallel to the floor and the forearm is pointing up. His left hand touches the right elbow. He then raises both arms over his head and drops the right one so that hand can touch the left arm.]
House: [to Cameron] Uh, I need you to spread your legs so I can do an “H.”
Cameron: Can't be lymphoma. LDH is normal.
Foreman: He's got good liver function. It's masking the elevated levels. Biopsy the lymph node. Check it out. [Cameron and Chase leave.]
House: Makes sense. I guess you don't need me. [He gets up to leave.] Oh, by the way, you might want to close the blinds. It’s really bright in here.
[Foreman, puzzled, closes the blinds.
Is written on them in large, black letters.]
[Cut to Wilson’s office.]
Wilson: It's just a wild coincidence that he thought you were a rude jerk.
House: Come on. Give me the benefit of the doubt. You said he's a jerk. I barely talked.
Wilson: You talked! [He drops his head into his hand.] All I wanted was to sip morning espresso next to a peaceful, burbling fountain.
House: You could be sipping Courvoisier next to a replica of the Playboy grotto if you tell him what you got on him.
Wilson: I don't have anything on him. I don't want anything on him.
House: The closest he's been to Vietnam? Ordering the mee krob at that place on the corner.
Wilson: Mee krob is from Thailand.
Wilson: What did you do? Why do you think he's faking?
House: I saw his mail.
Wilson: You broke in?
House: No. He was holding it. Private medical insurance. Not from the VA. Plus, he's got to be early 50s. He's too young to be a vet. So I looked further.
Wilson: You did break in.
House: Online. There's no reference to him in any of the vet records.
Wilson: Why would he fake being a veteran?
House: Just look how you're acting. People have been tiptoeing around this jerk for years.
Wilson: Normally, we'd all tell the amputee to go screw himself.
House: Victims get pity, heroes get adulation. It's way better.
Wilson: Thank you for trying to help me out with my neighbor. Now forget the Vietnam stuff.
House: I could prove this.
Wilson: But you won't because you'll be too busy writing him a letter of apology and dropping it at his door without knocking at his door.
House: I didn’t do anything, the guy’s a totally ass.
Wilson: Which is the point. It's easy to be nice to people you like. But being nice to people you hate, that's a skill. Do it.
[House drops his eyes, but glares.]
[Cut to Dibala’s room. Chase is treating him.]
Dibala: Thank you for saving my life.
Chase: The man that tried to kill you, he said that you were preparing a massacre.
Dibala: The Sitibi are my countrymen. I am fighting a guerilla war.
Chase: In a way that's being called genocide.
Dibala: 20 years ago, these same Sitibi rebels took over the south. They massacred tens of thousands, and they would happily do it again. I'm trying to impose order. I'm trying to prevent a genocide. Genocide. My own son, my youngest, he is a student here. He hasn't spoken to me in years because of what he read in your newspapers. But what he read is not true.
Chase: What about your Youth Labor League?
Dibala: Ahhhhhh. There I was at fault. I hired men, who, in their zeal, stepped over the line, and there were abuses. But that will not happen again.
[Chase considers this.]
[Cut to the apartment building. There are some buckets and cleaning supplies on the floor. House approaches Murphy’s door, holding an envelope. As he reaches the door and leans down, it opens and the maid comes out holding two large garbage bags. She leaves the door ajar. House peeks through the opening but he can’t see much. He weighs the letter then puts it on the mat. As he turns to leave, his cane slips on the wet floor and he falls. He sits up, grabs the letter and shakes the water off it. The door opens further. Carefully getting up from a kneeling position on the floor, he leans into the open apartment.]
House: [tentatively] Hello?
[He uses his cane to swish a rag through some of the water that fell in the apartment, then leans down and finishes by hand. He picks up the rag and drops the letter on the table. As he turns to leave he stops then turns back to stare at the large Canadian flag framed on the wall.]
[Cut to the lab. Cameron is looking in a microscope. Chase enters.]
Chase: How's it going?
Cameron: Normal-looking nucleus.
Chase: How's it going with you? It worried me when you joked about letting that man shoot Dibala.
Cameron: I wasn't joking.
Chase: You can't want to kill anyone, especially not your own patient.
Cameron: It's only natural to feel he should –
Chase: No, it's completely unnatural. Only psychopaths can kill other people without having some sort of breakdown.
Cameron: Not when it's justified. Look at soldiers.
Chase: Even when it's justified.
Cameron: Am I trying to kill our patient? Of course not. But if he died, am I supposed to just pretend that wouldn't be good for the world? The cells are neatly differentiated. This isn't lymphoma.
[Cut to the apartment building. Murphy approaches his door and takes his keys out. House, is sitting on the stairs, drinking a mug of coffee and waiting.]
House: Thought I had detected the sickly sweet smell of maple syrup and socialized medicine. It smells like… victory. That big flag in your place prompted me to chat with your housekeeper. Turns out you're a citizen of the Great White North.
Murphy: You broke into my apartment?
House: Technically, no. Well, technically, yeah, but two steps. Hardly –
Murphy: You're going to jail.
House: Speaking of, you know what can get you six months and a $100,000 fine? Falsely claiming that you won a medal in Vietnam.
Murphy: You think I’m faking?
House: Canada did not send troops to fight in Vietnam, you idiot.
Murphy: They sent troops to reinforce the '73 Peace Accords, Which is where I tried to free a 12-year-old boy who stepped on a land mine. 36 years later, every second, I feel the pain in my hand like I’m still grabbing that boy's arm, even though my arm isn't there. So, no, I’m not faking.
House: Oh. On a related note, go Maple Leafs.
[Murphy isn’t smiling. House gets up.]
[Cut to Dibala’s room. Chase, Cameron and Joseph are there.]
Dibala: Did you get the biopsy results? Is it lymphoma?
Chase: No. So we have to move on. Infection, perhaps autoimmune…
Dibala: Did you get the biopsy results?
[Cameron and Chase look worried.]
Chase: Yes, I just told you.
Dibala: Is it lymphoma?
[Now Joseph looks worried too.]
[Cut to a nice restaurant. Foreman is having dinner with Thirteen.]
Thirteen: Cameron and Chase?
Foreman: They both really like diagnostics. And I think they both really like watching House torture me. Anyway, thank you for understanding about the job. I had two really crappy alternatives.
Thirteen: There was a third.
Foreman: What's that?
Thirteen: You could have stepped aside.
Foreman: We both would have lost our jobs.
Thirteen: You could have asked Cameron or Chase to take your place.
Foreman: They wouldn't have wanted to.
Thirteen: You just said they both really like diagnostics.
Foreman: You want to go back in time?
Thirteen: I want to make this work. I want to understand you. I mean, you know how you made me feel. If you could do it again...
Foreman: I made the right decision.
[Thirteen stands up, takes her jacket from the back of her chair and leaves.]
[Cut to observation area over Dibala’s room. Cameron and Joseph are there.]
Joseph: I need your confidential medical opinion. Is the President capable of thinking clearly?
Cameron: Obviously not, right now.
Joseph: Will he ever be?
Cameron: I think… Neurons don't grow back, and he's already in his decline. Anything he tells you, any command he gives, how will you ever know it's not just the delusions of a sick, mad, dying old man?
[Joseph nods and leaves. Chase, who is in Dibala’s room, calls over the intercom.]
Chase: He just started spiking a fever.
[Cut to the Diagnostics Conference Room. House is looking at the file.]
House: It's scleroderma.
Foreman: You don't have some clever way of telling me this time?
House: Patient's dying. I'm done with clever. Look at his skin. [He holds up a small photo from the file.] It's tight for a 75-year-old.
Foreman: Based on his admission photo? Bit subjective. Fever points to infection. And now he's got nodules on his fingers. That's blastomycosis.
House: Nodules? And you're calling tight skin subjective?
Chase: I’m with Foreman. We would have seen fungus balls on the head CT.
House: Fungal lesions can be missed.
Cameron: We could settle this with a test. Anticentromere antibodies would point to scleroderma.
Foreman: Point to, not prove. And his fever's too high. We have to treat him now.
House: We treat wrong, we could send this disease into overdrive. You're with me on the scleroderma.
Cameron: I guess. I just don't care enough about the patient to waste my time trying to convince anyone –
House: We get it. You don't like the guy, you didn't want to work on this case. And yet you're still here. Why don't you take a stand? Either do something about it or shut up.
Cameron: [to Foreman] Treat him for blasto if you want. [She gives House a smug “you satisfied?” look.]
House: I'll get Cuddy. I can convince her to –
Foreman: This isn't a democracy. I don't care who you get. At least for right now, this is my department. We're treating him for blasto. Start him on Amphotericin B.
[Cut to Dibala’s room. Cameron is filling a syringe with Amphotericin B. As she finishes, he grabs her arm.]
Dibala: Inject my IV with an air bubble.
Cameron: What are you doing?
Dibala: I will have another heart attack. No one will know.
Chase: Let her go.
Dibala: You tell my colonel I'm a sick, dying old man who can't be trusted.
Cameron: I didn't say…
Dibala: You were trying to put a gun in his hand and point it at my head. The gun is now in your hand. That is a practical difference, not a moral one. If you want me dead, then pull the trigger. It is not so easy when you have to do it yourself.
[He lets go of her arm. She stares at the syringe for a long time. Dibala glares at her, Chase looks concerned. She injects the Amphotericin into his IV port.]
Cameron: I guess I didn't want you dead. [She leaves.]
Chase: If you touch my wife again, I'll kick your ass out into the street. I don't care who you are.
Dibala: I did her a favor. I showed her her true character.
Chase: She's a better person than you are. [He starts for the door.]
Dibala: She is too weak to act on her beliefs. That is not her fault. Most everyone is. Even my own advisors. My own colonel. [scornfully] All they do is negotiate and debate and sign treaties. They are appeasers. And all the while, we are beset by assassins and traitors, the scum –
Chase: [turning back] Cockroaches? What are you going to do about them?
Dibala: What is an enemy to you? Some younger physician who covets your office? In my world, there are dangers and bloodshed and death. And that makes you a man. And men make choices.
Chase: And your choice is to send bands of drunk, crazed children to massacre an entire people?
Dibala: Don't ask me questions you don't want to know the answer to.
Chase; I saved your life. I deserve to know what you're planning to –
Dibala: Whatever it takes to protect my country.
[Chase stares at him as if seeing him for the first time.]
[Cut to Wilson’s apartment.]
Wilson: You broke into his apartment?
House: I didn't break in.
Wilson: I wish I believed you.
House: I can fix this.
Wilson: I already did. He was going to press charges. But… I promised him you'd leave.
House: You're kicking me out?
Wilson: I'll explain it to your psychiatrist, but… yeah. You got to go somewhere else. [House nods and jiggles his keys.] House, I know when things go wrong, usually you just double down and get more involved, but here you could go to jail. And I truly believe that you've changed enough to know this is the right thing.
[Cut to a PPTH hall. Chase is sitting on a bench, thinking. Cameron approaches.]
Cameron: We need a blood sample. We got to do the anticentromere antibody test. It'll show House is right. It's scleroderma.
Chase: Why are you doing this now?
Cameron: Because I didn't want to kill him. And you're right. I have to take a side. So I’m going to do what I can to keep him alive.
Chase: I'll get you the blood.
[Cut to House’s office. Foreman is seated at the desk. Cameron comes in with the test results, followed by Chase.]
Cameron: Positive for anticentromere antibodies.
Chase; Better get him off the antifungals and onto steroids immediately.
Foreman: [taking the results from Cameron] I told you before, this only points to scleroderma. It doesn't prove it.
Chase: You're just gonna ignore the test?
Foreman: Blasto still fits best.
Cameron: I know it's not conclusive, but when you put it with all the other evidence –
Foreman: I've made my decision.
[Cameron looks at Chase.]
Cameron: Have you told Thirteen you were wrong to fire her?
Foreman: What does that have to do with anything?
Cameron: I've worked with you long enough to know you're reasonable. You can usually admit when you're wrong. But there's some deep part of you, that when you find you're wrong about the most important decisions you've made, you get insecure and you just retrench. If you want to mess up your relationship, that's your right, but you mess this up, our patient dies.
Foreman: Switch him to steroids.
[Cut to Murphy’s apartment. It’s dark. He enters and closes the door behind him. He flips on the light and turns. House is there with a syringe.]
House: Hi, honey. [He injects Murphy in the neck.] How was your day? [He catches Murphy as he passes out.]
[Murphy is in a chair. He has duct tape covering his mouth. There are also multiple layers of duct tape in a large “X” across his torso and over his shoulders and a wide band of it around him about the level of his lower rib cage. He is securely taped to the chair he is sitting on. He begins to wake up. He sees House seated on the table. Obviously afraid, he starts to breathe loudly and rapidly.]
House: Morning. First of all, my bad. I've gone through this whole thing recently. I don't want to bore you. Short version: I’m really trying to do work on some stuff. This is a definite setback. Although, in fairness, you really did make it tough.
[He gets off the table and fetches a box with large round holes in one side. He puts it on the table and slides Murphy to it as he continues.]
House: Phantom pain in your missing arm? Five different kinds of painkiller in your medicine cabinet. That's what this magic box of neurological trickery is for.
[Murphy groans and tries to resist as House picks up his right arm, which doesn’t have the prosthetic on, to put it through one of the holes in the box.]
House: This would be a lot easier if you do what the crazy guy who tied you up says. [He lets House put his stump through the hole. House removes the duct tape on Murphy’s left arm.] Put your hand in there. Put your hand in there. [House closes the lid on the right side of the box.] Now look. Mirror magic. Your arm is back. [With the lid covering the right arm, Murphy sees his left and it’s reflection. It looks like two whole arms, side by side.] Now clench both your fists at the same time. Clench. Real hard. [Murphy does. He is also on the verge of tears.] If you believe in God, pray that this is gonna work. You might also want to ask him why he blew off your arm. Ready? Now let go.
[Murphy’s eyes are shut tight. His left hand and its mirror image open wide as do his eyes. He is obviously shocked. House removes the duct tape from his mouth.]
Murphy: [crying] Oh, my God. It relaxed. For 36 years, I’ve been in pain. And it's finally gone. Oh, my God. Thank you.
[Cut to Dibala’s room. The monitors are going crazy. Chase has a large black tube in Dibala’s mouth.]
Cameron: O2 sat's down to 88.
Chase: Going through the main stem bronchus, into the right upper lobe. [Foreman, Joseph, Bass and others enter.] Get them out of here.
Foreman: [gesturing to calm him down and keep him out of Chase’s way] It’s okay.
Chase: [looking at it on the monitor] Cauterizing.
Foreman: Got it?
[The alarms stop for a moment then start again, loudly. Blood is pouring out of Dibala’s mouth around the tube.]
Foreman: Get the paddles!
Chase: I'm going back in.
Joseph: What is happening?
Foreman: He's bleeding into his lungs.
Cameron: [grabbing the paddles] Charging.
Chase: Another bleeder. I can get it.
Foreman: Hold on. There's a third.
Chase: God, there's a dozen. [He and Foreman pull the equipment away. to Cameron] Shock him.
Cameron: Clear. [She shocks him. The monitors don’t change.] Charging. Clear. [As time seems to slow down, she shocks him half a dozen more times.]
[The only sound in the room is the monitor, flat-lining.]
[Cut to House’s office. Foreman is behind the desk, brooding. House enters.]
House: You want to curl up and cry, the lounge chair's a little more comfy.
Foreman: I switched his meds. I thought I was wrong, so I took him off the antifungals. Put him on steroids like you said.
House: You know what that means.
Foreman: I was too late. Or I was right in the first place.
House: So either you killed him by not having confidence in your opinion, or you killed him by being too attached to your opinion. If you're anything like me – and, by the way, you are – you need to know which.
Foreman: He's under lock and key in the morgue. His government wants their own doctors to do the autopsy. They're taking his body out tomorrow.
House: There's a reason I hired you. You used to know what to do with a locked door.
[Cut to the locker room. Chase is sitting on a bench in front of an open locker. His elbows are on his knees and his head is down. As Foreman enters, Chase glances at him then sits up straight.]
Foreman: I went down to the morgue to rerun the antibodies test.
Chase: We ran it twice.
Foreman: Turns out I couldn't get in. They had an armed guard. But I saw this. [He holds out a sheet of paper.] It's a sign-in sheet from the morgue. Your signature. [Chase slowly takes the paper from Foreman.] 9:45 this morning. That's right before you guys ran the test. What were you doing there?
Chase: Follow-up on a clinic case.
Foreman: What case?
Chase: You think this is really important –
Foreman: One of the patients in the morgue was a 70-year-old woman who had scleroderma. You and Cameron, if you took that woman's blood, you could have messed up the test results so we treated Dibala for the wrong disease.
Chase: [making full eye contact with Foreman for the first time] Cameron had nothing to do with it.
Foreman: [loudly] You son of a bitch.
Chase: He was going to kill the Sitibi. Every last one of them.
Foreman: [shouting] I don't care what he was going to do. He came to us and put his life in our hands.
Chase: [standing and talking quietly] All the good we've done… Every life we've saved… It would have meant nothing… If we just sent him off to kill hundreds of thousands of people. Look at the news. The moderates are taking over. There's hope for peace talks. You tell the world that I faked this test, Dibala becomes a martyr. The massacres begin.
Foreman: I cover this up, I become your accomplice. You think you can guilt me into that?
Chase: If the cops are going to come for me, please warn me… So that I can tell my wife first.
[Foreman takes the sign-in sheet. Chase sits back down.]
Foreman: Chase… You really think you can kill another human being without any consequences to yourself?
Chase: [His mouth moves for a moment with no sound. He shakes his head once, almost imperceptibly.] No.
[Cut to Wilson’s apartment. House comes in and drops his keys on the table. Wilson is watching TV with his feet up.]
TV: American alligators are mostly found in the southeastern United States.
Wilson: My neighbor called. He sounded… happy.
House: That's nice.
Wilson: Even nicer, he's approving the garden expansion.
House: [joining Wilson on the couch] Huh.
Wilson: And even more nicer… He's not going to press charges. Even if you don't move out. What did you do to him?
House: I was nice. [pause] You really want to know?
Wilson: I think… I want to give you the benefit of the doubt.
TV: Alligators’ main prey is very small animals that they can kill and eat in a single bite.
[On screen, an alligator that has been lurking below the surface of the water with only it’s eyes visible, snaps up a frog.]
House and Wilson: [in unison] Oh!
[Cut to the morgue. Bass leads Dibala’s son in. He is crying as he uncovers his father’s head. Dibala’s mouth and cheeks are streaked with a lot of dried blood.]
[Cut to Chase and Cameron’s bedroom. Cameron is asleep. Chase lays down, still dressed, facing away from her.]
[Cut to House’s office. Foreman is alone. He stares at the log-in sheet then lights one corner, holding it as it burns. He lowers it out of sight and stares straight ahead.]