House

[raw_youth]

He had had a drink so he was full of liquid courage. Dodge needed a needle and he knew where to look. You'd have to be an idiot not to know where to look. He left the party with his white take out bag in hand, half a sandwich still in it. He went straight to the clinic and walked in, looking around and hoping he was lucky enough that all the

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[misanthrope_md]

House had been at the party for a while, and in fact still had a generous glass of scotch in his hand. But he wasn't on duty so it was okay - he was just in the clinic because he was scrounging for Tylenol. He didn't know why he was even bothering, really, except that his leg was killing him and before he drank himself into alcohol poisoning to escape it he should probably try something else.

The scotch was on the counter, his cane leaning against the side, and he was pushing aside various bottles in the cabinet, looking for the right one.

[raw_youth]

Dodge stopped when he saw the man rummaging through the cupboard. He didn't look like a doctor but he couldn't be sure. He was frozen to the spot as he tried to decide whether to proceed or flee.

It didn't take long for the need to fix decided for him. He walked over and opened a drawer without any idea where a needle might be kept.

"Seen needles?" he asked the man casually.

[misanthrope_md]

House turned, bottle in hand, and looked at the unfamiliar boy as he shook out a few pills.

"Sure have," he said. "Why, need to sew something?"

[raw_youth]

"Not that kind of needle," he said, opening another drawer. Bandaids, gauze, scissors. Nothing useful. Dodge looked up at the man and tried to look as sweet as he could.

"Can I get in that drawer behind you?" he asked, polite as he could manage, and then even added a "Please."