All language subtitles for S06E07 - Teamwork

This bagel's as hard
as a hockey puck.

Then don't eat it.

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

You're worried about the food?

No, I'm worried
about what the food represents.

I've got seven scenes to shoot
today on half of what we used to spend.

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

Yeah, 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.

So we can kind of make it
about the performances.

You okay?

Bit of a headache.

If you need an ibuprofen...

I need you to put your
game face on, right?

Screw the bagels, screw
the sets, screw the wardrobe.

You have any idea
how lucky we are?

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.

Hey, baby.

All right.
Roll camera.

And

action.

What's wrong?

My eyes.
They feel like they're exploding.

All right. Turn off
the damn light.

Get an ambulance. Now!

We're gonna be late for work.

Then we'll be late.

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.

You have no idea what
I've been living with,

and what it means
to hear you say that.

But we need to get away
from Princeton-Plainsboro.

You can barely walk by the
rooms where Dibala was treated.

Why should we live with
that hanging over our heads?

If there was ever
a time to turn the page...

Three-month-old with fever,

incessant drooling,
and chronic muscle weakness.

Or porn actor Hank Hardwick, born
Henry Lefkowitz, totally clean workup,

collapsed on the job
with extreme photophobia.

Or an infant as limp
as a rag doll.

Yeah. Let's wait till
Chase and Cameron get here.

I have the feeling they'll have
the good sense to side with me.

Doesn't matter who they
side with, I'm still in charge.

We're taking the
limp three-month-old.

Oh, good, you paged
the limpness specialist.

This envelope is oddly
medical-licensed shaped.

Congratulations.

House is back in charge.
We get to treat a porn star.

Congratulations.

Perfect timing for us.

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

It's kind of sudden.

Unless you've been circulating
your resumes for a while.

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

Moving, too.
Interesting.

Are you sure about this?

Yes.

We'll miss you.

We'll miss all of you, too.

We'll start clearing
out our things.

Run an STD
panel and a tox screen,

send a C-reactive protein
to look for inflammation

and an ANA to screen
for autoimmune.

The rest of you take a history and
do an LP to rule out viral encephalitis.

Oh, it's just you.

Here's hoping you're
good at multitasking.

I get tested for STDs regularly,

so does everyone I work with.

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?

My wife used to smoke a little
pot, but I never touch the stuff.

You're married?

Happily.
Two years now.

She happy you do porn?

Very.
Since she does it, too.

You ever get jealous
when your wife's working?

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.

You're gonna feel
a little pressure.

Any history of sexual abuse?

I defy the cliché.

Have you ever suffered
depression or psychosis?

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...

My arms are killing me.

Looks like tetany. Your
muscles are contracting.

Need some meperidine in here.

Oh, God.

Jew with megalophallus,
photophobia, and muscle spasm.

You tell me which
is the most unusual.

Four candidates,
three slots on the team.

Need to know if you've still
got your diagnostic chops.

I leave this office
by 6:00 every day.

I have my weekends again.
I recognize my wife again.

Yeah, I agree, does sound pretty
dull. No wonder you want to work for me.

Tox screen was clean, we
ruled out viral encephalitis.

The only obstacle to you
coming back is your wife,

which has never been that
much of an obstacle to you.

Maybe you're right.

The only link between eye
and muscle is the brain.

Tumor, seizure...

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, which means it's...

Thailand was wonderful,
thanks for asking.

Of course, yes,
it has to be multi-focal.

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

Backup plan's fine, but
Taub's swinging for the fences.

I suggest you don't
divide your attention.

Good point. I won't
divide my attention then.

Taub thinks it's a brain issue,

Thirteen thinks
it's multi-focal.

And neither
of them wants to work here.

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 dead African dictator.

None of them has a
problem with the work.

Cerebral vasculitis would explain
both the eye and arm findings.

Steroids to treat, brain
angiogram to confirm,

EMG and a nerve biopsy
while you're at it. I'll be at lunch.

I'd hire all four, but a
five-person team seems unwieldy.

Who would you turn down?

I'll have whatever he's buying.

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.

They don't because their lives are
irrelevantly and annoyingly complicated,

which makes them confused, which
makes them make poor decisions.

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.

So I had an attraction of sorts.

Yeah, the sort in which

your imaginary tryst landed
you in a mental hospital.

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.

I suppose throwing yourself into your
work isn't the worst thing you could do.

What is the worst
thing I could do?

House thinks
it's cerebral vasculitis.

If you could just do the brain angio
while I finish up the blood work...

We're out the door.

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

Which is why you should
be out the door, too.

This is completely
unreasonable, even for House.

You owe me this.

Thank you.

You really believe
this is cerebral vasculitis?

Could be.

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.

Sounds like House.

It could also be a severe
vitamin D deficiency.

He has a restrictive diet,
works long hours indoors,

became hypocalcemic,
got tetany and photophobia.

You're saying I
shouldn't do the angio?

House ordered it, Foreman
wants it, of course we should do it.

I'm just saying
we're right to leave.

You sure?

Because right now I'd basically
do anything you asked me.

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

Right after I take the patient
to the phototherapy suite,

blast him with ultraviolet
light and IV vitamins

for his severe
vitamin D deficiency.

Do you guys actually
work together?

We did at first. But now we like
to keep our films pretty separate.

So, do you watch her work?

We're both busy
with our own stuff.

Think what you want, but
we're proud of what we do.

Divorcing sex from
all emotional content?

Emotion is emotional,
sex is mechanical.

There doesn't really
need to be any overlap.

Certainly not in your world.

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.

You think you can escape the
consequences, but you can't.

You don't get to make
your own rules and morals.

Well, you're here to treat
him, not lecture us about our...

Hank, are you all right?
Are you okay?

Just a nosebleed.

Inside his leg?

Petechial hemorrhages.

We were wrong, so was Foreman.

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

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

We're just here to help Foreman.

Is that... He's
not without talent.

UV rays made the patient's capillaries
more fragile, hastening the onset of DIC.

Sounds like sepsis...
But isn't.

No sign of shock,
no drop in blood pressure.

Can we turn that off?

Right, because Cameron
thinks pornography is evil.

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.

Left shift points to bacteremia.

No fever, plus it wouldn't explain
the spasmodic muscle contractions.

The ball-and-chain
smacked you down.

But widespread petechial rash,
nervous system involvement...

It's some kind of blood
infection. Meningococcemia.

Start the patient
on heparin for the DIC,

broad-spectrum antibiotics
for the meningococcemia.

Dr. Cameron.

Chase is relaxed, at ease,
in lock-step with you again.

I guess he finally told you
that he iced Idi Amin Jr.

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?

I've forgiven him.

Not for murder.
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.

I thought your position
was our leaving is a ruse.

We're not talking
about my position,

we're talking about yours,
which doesn't add up.

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.

I don't want that.

But we'd be foolish
not to plan ahead.

A, my firing 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 of
you working here will be gone.

Or maybe I skipped
a couple of letters.

Meningococcemia's spread
person-to-person.

Something you ought to think
about next time you show up for work.

It's okay, your wife's not here.

I'm just telling you what...

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.

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.

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

No part of you wants a
life of actual commitment?

Is my relationship
perfect? No.

Am I ever horny when my wife
has just had sex for nine hours? Yes.

But we are committed to each
other in every way that matters.

In other words,
you're committed,

except when you're
not committed.

Doesn't work so well
if you have a conscience.

Conscience? You mean
that thing that kicks in

when there's no logical reason to
behave the way people want you to?

What?
You have a fever.

Means the antibiotics
aren't working.

Mr. Takayama?

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?

If you'll excuse me,
I've got a real patient. Mr...

Hitler? Really?

I had to do something
to amuse myself while

your receptionist
fought with her boyfriend.

Who's next?

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.

Who's the jerk?

Someone with zero chance
of hiring me back.

I told you. I'm content
at home and at work.

But you're not
content with content.

It's why you got sucked
into those stock scams,

why you cheated
on the wife you love.

At bridge.

My wife and I play
a lot of bridge.

Why you worked on the case
the last time I was here.

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.

Yeah. But you'd knock over
three other doctors to give it to him.

Metaphorically speaking,
you're a Heimlich addict.

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...

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

Yes, I do nose jobs, just like the
guy who came here after a car crash,

couldn't even breathe
through his...

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.

Nice.

Tell me that didn't feel good.

See you tomorrow.

Not coming back.

Looks like quite a trip.

It was.

House send you to talk to me?

No.

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

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

You saying this because
you still have feelings for me

and you want me to come back?

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

Do you have feelings
for me or not?

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

You couldn't keep them separate.

And that's why our
personal life doesn't exist.

None of that has to...

I can't work with you.

Actually, you can.

I was the one who had the
problem. I don't any more.

I owe you an apology.

I was... I was...

What were you wrong about?

You spent weeks elaborately concealing
the fact that you'd crashed daddy's car.

Then you just confessed. Seemed
idiotic, certain to end in disaster.

Instead, you're riding off
into the sunset together.

Any theories on why?

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

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.

As we've already established,
it's also possible that you're wrong.

Or there's another explanation.

Since you don't have one,
I'm gonna keep looking for you.

Let him drain, then pack it with
anesthetics and sterile gauze.

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

He's trying to get
his old fellows back.

It's called stalking.

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

That's a shame, since you're
the one who triggered this.

What do you see in Lucas anyway?

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

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.

I know you're upset with me because
I didn't choose to date your best friend,

but I'm living my life.

For the first time.

I'm not gonna change that because
of how it might affect him, or you.

I feel like crap.

Yeah, look, our relationship is gonna
be about House or it's gonna be about us.

I vote for it being about us.

House is gonna make
it about him for us.

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.

The 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...

Shut up.

You're right.
I'm sorry.

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.

His sinuses are clear. The
antibiotics should work this time.

Why did you forgive me?

I mean, I'm glad, I'm
grateful, but I'm confused.

You've been harder on the
patient than you've been on me.

The difference between you and
the patient is that you feel shame, guilt.

That's how I know we're
gonna get through this.

My stomach.

It really hurts.

His liver's failing.

His liver's failing and his
abdomen keeps filling with fluid, so...

It's not meningococcemia.

No matter how much you
finish each other's sentences,

don't count on being
a diagnostic package deal.

Patient's liver's not working.

We don't have time
for your little team-stakes.

Sometimes you're just wrong.

Something genetic, something in
his family history we overlooked?

History and genetics
are spotless.

Plus, every time he had a bad
cough as a kid, he went to a doctor.

Klatskin tumor,
obstructing his bile ducts?

No jaundice, wouldn't
have ocular effects.

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

Could've stopped him from
producing clotting proteins,

damaged his blood cells,
causing small strokes.

Enough, enough! Stop
pummeling Thirteen and Taub.

It fits. Prep the
patient for an ERCP,

see if there's any hope of
opening his blocked bile channels.

And tell them to start
looking for a liver donor.

Dr. Chase.

Your turn.

So what did she say?

She forgave me
because I feel guilty.

That works, too.

And now you expect me to
ask you what the "too" refers to?

Only if you're interested. Only if
you have doubts about her answer.

She thinks that you don't
have anything to feel guilty about

because you didn't
kill anybody, I did.

She blames me for
Dibala's murder, not you.

You were barely involved
in that case, she knows that.

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

You're wrong.

Powerful counter-argument.

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

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.

Last week, my cane
could only do 10 minutes.

What are you doing here?

Waiting for you to take a nap
so I can surge into the lead.

What's the best way to restore the liver
in someone with sclerosing cholangitis?

Not getting drawn into this.

You already are.

Because you crashed my workout?

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.

You want to do
something significant,

something that'll last longer
than the few years you have left.

My team is your
first, best choice.

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

Absolutely, you should do that.

Three hours a week, every doctor
should, because 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.

Why are you doing it this way?

You're pretending to
assume we're all coming back,

without actually
asking us. Why?

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

You can't ask because
you can't face the rejection.

Why not?
What's going on?

Are you asking me to ask you?

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

We don't know how much the sclerosing
cholangitis has damaged your liver.

It might be in a
year, might be in 10,

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.

You're saying
I have to change jobs?

You're medically advising
me to change jobs?

Hank, if you're too sick...

She wants me to have some
kind of religious conversion.

She's practically
salivating over it.

I'm just being candid about...

So you don't think I'm scum, just
some committee thinks I'm scum?

That your lifestyle has risks.

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.

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

No. No, I won't.

Why does everyone want to
dictate the way I live my life?

Because the way we're
living it is gonna Kill you.

Passing the pancreatic duct.

Don't listen to House.

You have no idea what he said.

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.

House doesn't make my decisions.

I'm in the common bile duct.

What's that mass?
Gallstone?

Can we magnify times five?

That's not a gallstone.

His liver's completely
filled with worms.

You have strongyloides,
also known as threadworms.

They disseminated all over your
body, causing all your symptoms.

How'd I get a parasite?

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

And what's the treatment?

Two mebendazole pills.

That's it?

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

You know this is
the doctors' lounge.

I know.

It seemed like the place
to read doctors' notes.

You are good at it, by the way.

Why are you reading my charts?

Because I'm worried
about my girlfriend.

Your girlfriend is
a male porn star?

No, I'm dating Lisa Cuddy.

Seriously?
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.

I see the connection.

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.

You're easily impressed.

Well, yeah. I was.

Until I saw that you had virtually
stopped writing them about four weeks ago.

Been busy.
Got a backlog.

Yeah, people with your level of
precision don't really just get backlogs.

No one knows why
you're leaving PP TH.

Because it's personal.

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.

Thanks for the folksy wisdom.

Hey, you got any dirt
on any of the other three?

It'd really help me out.

I thought you said those
two pills was all he needed.

Lungs are filling with fluid.

Suction him and
get him on oxygen.

Patient's lungs are severely
compromised, liver's still failing.

Worms could easily
have been a coincidence.

Almost be surprising
if he didn't have them.

Which means it could be a
hematological problem plus cardiomyopathy.

No. Neck veins are flat,
precordial exam was normal.

What if it's lymphoma?

Peritoneal carcinomatosis
explains the liver failure,

paraneoplastic syndrome
explains everything else.

Lymphoma it is.
Prep him for chemo.

Fax Taub and Thirteen the
latest update on the case.

Seriously?

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

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.

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

Do you want me to be mad at you?

You blame House, not me.

I'm mad at House
because he's an ass.

And I am mad at you, but
I don't want to leave you.

What I did may be the worst
thing I ever did, it may be the best.

I'm either a murderer or a guy
who stopped a mass murderer.

But I did it. Me.

And even if it destroys me,
I'd do it again today.

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

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

If that's how you feel,

okay.

My strategy is 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?

Right.

Right, by not saying anything, you're
saying that the answer's inside me?

The answer has nothing
to do with the question.

Then it's not
technically the answer.

Why do you need
three of these doctors?

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

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.

Oh, my God, you're right.
I don't need doctors at all.

I just need a good friend.

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.

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

You okay?

Getting through it.

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

Yeah.

He's peeing blood.

BP's rising.

Heart rate is up to 250.

He's going into cardiac arrest.

Charging. Clear.

He's bleeding out.

His body's
completely giving out.

Charging. Clear.

We've got him stabilized,

but no red cells,
no white cells,

practically no platelets either.

Mebendazole can cause adverse
effects, but nothing like this.

He's been off it
since yesterday anyway.

Long passes, wild
guesses, anything.

Hypopituitarism? Could
cause multi-organ failure if...

If his thyroid hormone
wasn't completely normal.

Renal cell carcinoma.

Renal ultrasound was clean.

I'd say aleukemic leukemia,

marrow's not making
enough normal cells, but...

Ablate the patient's bone
marrow, find him a donor match.

You want to nuke
the patient's marrow?

He had no evidence of being
anemic or immune-compromised

when he was admitted...
Perfect white count as well.

Ablation could kill him,

or leave him defenseless
against an infection that could.

Then come up with
something better.

He may as well die
while we're treating him.

Okay with you if I bring the other
candidates into the loop now?

The risks,
they're really minimal.

We'll do a series
of painless injections...

Excuse me.

The whole thing can
be done as an outpatient.

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

Trust me, the case
is almost over.

Foreman told me you're
ablating the patient's marrow

on a non-theory that
Foreman himself withdrew.

You're gonna Kill the patient.

Is this about me and Lucas?

I want alternatives
for the patient.

So do ll.

I want to be on the team.

You think that's gonna
save your marriage?

I don't know.

Four candidates, three spots.

I got a tough decision
ahead of me.

Hi. Remy, this is Dr. Turner
from the Pennsauken Free Clinic.

We all loved meeting you,
and the job's yours.

Call me back,
let's pick a start date.

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?

I don't look old enough
to have them anyway, do I?

Absolutely.

I do look old enough?

No.

I'm sorry.
Hang on a second.

Why are you here?

Because I think we're wrong, which
means something's gonna go wrong.

Or right.

Takayama here.

It's me and Thirteen,
stop the ablation.

Because... Those threadworms.

Why would his body have gone to
hell just hours after they were gone?

The worms weren't hurting him,
they were helping him.

He has extra-intestinal Crohn's.

He got it from being
raised in too clean,

too overprotective
of an environment.

It's the hygiene hypothesis,

why there's so much autoimmune
disease in the developed world,

and almost none in
the developing world.

The worms were
keeping the Crohn's in check,

teaching his immune
system what it should've

learned from eating
dirt growing up.

Once you killed them,
it started killing him.

So his life of filth wasn't the
problem, the clean living was.

We'll start him
on methylprednisolone.

And some helminths.

Worms. Cool, huh?

Best out of three?

Have you been a bad boy?

Yeah, that's...

I want to be on the team.

Good news for your wife.

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.

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.

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.

Four for four.

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.

You almost killed that patient.

If almost not saving
his life means...

You knew the diagnosis
along time ago.

You risked another patient's
life to bait your old team.

Another one?

You did kill Dibala.

By playing God and
teaching us to do the same.

I taught you to
think for yourselves.

You don't even think
of them as people,

they're just lab rats
for your little puzzles.

You celebrate their humanity,

I'd rather solve those little
puzzles and save their lives.

Motives do matter.
Lives can't come second.

The patient is alive.
That's what matters.

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.

Your husband killed a patient
and you're breaking up with me?

You ruined him,

so he can't even see
right from wrong,

can't even see the sanctity
of a human life any more.

I loved you, and I loved Chase.

I'm sorry for you both,

for who you've become because

there's no way back
for either of you.

Any idea where I can get a great
big "Mission Accomplished" banner?

Got my sanity back, my
license back, and now...

You're kidding.
All of them?

Three out of four,

which is almost as good
as four out of five.

Who was the...
Cameron.

Wow. I can't believe it.

I mean, really.
I can't believe it.

You were right, House.
Good for you.

Yeah. It is.

She's broken up with Chase,
and she's leaving the hospital. Still,

three out of four ain't bad.