(no subject)
It started out as a normal Monday. House taught his class in the morning (mostly he sat and talked this time, regaling them with tales of the different cases he'd had involving tapeworms and other parasites, then quizzing them on symptoms), stopped by the kitchen where he ate two mangos and some unidentifiable soup that contained some unidentifiable seafood, then went back to the clinic to see if any of the other doctors had left him notes about how his students were doing in the clinic rotation.
His leg was hurting a little more than a normal Monday, probably aided by the trek to the beach to the wedding, and standing around at the reception. If he'd had some foresight, he would have had Jack give him a massage last night, but no, he'd just made it worse by... well, doing other things with Jack.
So before he started to look around for those notes, he started to look around for the latest batch of painkiller. Once again, the box of syringes was MIA. Sighing, he leaned his cane against the counter and stretched his arm so that he could reach deep into the back of a cabinet. He frowned as he felt something odd, a bag perhaps, and it rattled like... pill bottles.
He pulled out the bag, and his mouth dropped open as he realized that it was filled with dozens of prescription bottles that looked... eerily familiar. Holding it up to the light, he caught the name inscribed on bottle after bottle: Gregory House.
Vicodin.
There had to be... god, if the bottles were even half full, there had to be 500 pills in there. Where the hell had these come from? It wasn't just Vicodin, it was his Vicodin. He recognized some of the bottles as part of his hidden stash from around his apartment back home.
He turned the bag over, this time reading the front, which had a label filled out with permanent marker. POLICE EVIDENCE. His jaw dropping open, House scanned over some meaningless numbers, eyes going to the relevant bits.
Suspect: Gregory House
Type of Offense: Drug possession/Trafficking
Description of Evidence: prescription narcotics in amounts large enough to indicate intent to traffic
Location of Recovery: Suspect's residence
Recovered By: Detective Michael Tritter
He looked at the date. 2006. Great. The more he learned about his apparent future, the more he thought maybe he was better off in this shithole. How the hell had this happened? Why was some cop searching his apartment for drugs?
House glanced over his shoulder, making sure that no one had seen him with the bag. Then he reached inside, grabbed two bottles, and put them in his pocket. Then he took the bag, wrapped it up in a pillowcase, and shoved it behind the mattress of the one of the beds in the room off the clinic. They hadn't had enough patients to fill those beds since the dinosaur attacks.
House knew from the date on the bag - November - that whatever had happened was after even Cameron had left the hospital. So he only knew one way to find out about what had happened, as much as he didn't like it. Swallowing his nerves, he marched into the rec room, and looked at the stack of reels with his name on them. They had dates, too, and the one title "Que Sera Sera" had the date of 11/7/06, which was the closest to the date on the police evidence bag.
So he started up the reel, slumping onto the couch and practically feeling his skin crawl. From the moment he saw himself sitting in that jail cell to watching that asshole cop in his apartment - "Never understimate the stupidity of an addict. There's got to be over 600 Vicodin in here. Most DAs would say that proves intent to traffic. Even if what you really intended was to be wasted 24/7 by practicing medicine." - to the same asshole grilling Wilson in some hotel room.
When it was over, his eyes flicked to the stack of reels after this one. Somehow he suspected that it hadn't ended there. The pills rattled in his pocket. He had fully intended to reach in and take one, until he had the creepy feeling that he wasn't alone in the rec room.
[OOC: House's second item. The middle's only cut because it was so long. :-p Please tag in as if your pup is approaching him just after he's finished watching the episode. However, they could have been standing there and seen as much or as little of it as you'd like (the transcript is here); he was so engrossed that he wouldn't have noticed.]
His leg was hurting a little more than a normal Monday, probably aided by the trek to the beach to the wedding, and standing around at the reception. If he'd had some foresight, he would have had Jack give him a massage last night, but no, he'd just made it worse by... well, doing other things with Jack.
So before he started to look around for those notes, he started to look around for the latest batch of painkiller. Once again, the box of syringes was MIA. Sighing, he leaned his cane against the counter and stretched his arm so that he could reach deep into the back of a cabinet. He frowned as he felt something odd, a bag perhaps, and it rattled like... pill bottles.
He pulled out the bag, and his mouth dropped open as he realized that it was filled with dozens of prescription bottles that looked... eerily familiar. Holding it up to the light, he caught the name inscribed on bottle after bottle: Gregory House.
Vicodin.
There had to be... god, if the bottles were even half full, there had to be 500 pills in there. Where the hell had these come from? It wasn't just Vicodin, it was his Vicodin. He recognized some of the bottles as part of his hidden stash from around his apartment back home.
He turned the bag over, this time reading the front, which had a label filled out with permanent marker. POLICE EVIDENCE. His jaw dropping open, House scanned over some meaningless numbers, eyes going to the relevant bits.
Suspect: Gregory House
Type of Offense: Drug possession/Trafficking
Description of Evidence: prescription narcotics in amounts large enough to indicate intent to traffic
Location of Recovery: Suspect's residence
Recovered By: Detective Michael Tritter
He looked at the date. 2006. Great. The more he learned about his apparent future, the more he thought maybe he was better off in this shithole. How the hell had this happened? Why was some cop searching his apartment for drugs?
House glanced over his shoulder, making sure that no one had seen him with the bag. Then he reached inside, grabbed two bottles, and put them in his pocket. Then he took the bag, wrapped it up in a pillowcase, and shoved it behind the mattress of the one of the beds in the room off the clinic. They hadn't had enough patients to fill those beds since the dinosaur attacks.
House knew from the date on the bag - November - that whatever had happened was after even Cameron had left the hospital. So he only knew one way to find out about what had happened, as much as he didn't like it. Swallowing his nerves, he marched into the rec room, and looked at the stack of reels with his name on them. They had dates, too, and the one title "Que Sera Sera" had the date of 11/7/06, which was the closest to the date on the police evidence bag.
So he started up the reel, slumping onto the couch and practically feeling his skin crawl. From the moment he saw himself sitting in that jail cell to watching that asshole cop in his apartment - "Never understimate the stupidity of an addict. There's got to be over 600 Vicodin in here. Most DAs would say that proves intent to traffic. Even if what you really intended was to be wasted 24/7 by practicing medicine." - to the same asshole grilling Wilson in some hotel room.
When it was over, his eyes flicked to the stack of reels after this one. Somehow he suspected that it hadn't ended there. The pills rattled in his pocket. He had fully intended to reach in and take one, until he had the creepy feeling that he wasn't alone in the rec room.
[OOC: House's second item. The middle's only cut because it was so long. :-p Please tag in as if your pup is approaching him just after he's finished watching the episode. However, they could have been standing there and seen as much or as little of it as you'd like (the transcript is here); he was so engrossed that he wouldn't have noticed.]