Breaking all my own rules.
For plum177:
The young man sitting on the exam table was well groomed for a junkie, House noted. But he twitched slightly from withdrawal, and there was no mistaking that hollowed, strung out expression.
“Let me guess,” House said, slamming the door shut behind him. “It hurts really really bad, do I have something for that in my magic doctor bag?“
The patient scowled at him. “No,” he said. And then: “I’ve been having... episodes.”
“Oh, *episodes*. Any good ones? We can swap stories.”
“I... have visions,” he said. He looked at House, expression solemn over red-rimmed eyes. “Of the future.”
“But only when you’re high?” House guessed, scribbling on a notepad. The patient shifted slightly and looked away. “That’s interesting.”
“Really?”
“No.” House ripped out the paper and handed it to him. “Here’s your free ticket to a month’s supply of methadone. Well, I *say* free...”
House felt a little bad later, when the world ended and it turned out he was wrong, but it’s not like anyone was around to call him on it.