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vicodin_snark (vicodin_snark) wrote in vas_captio_rpg,

So perhaps combining scotch and vicodin the night before hadn't been the best idea of House's life. Well, wasn't so much the combination of the two but the quantity of the two. So, now he knew and he wouldn't be repeating that mistake again. Until the next time he forgot about this little deal he had with himself, opened up the scotch and popped back pills as if they were candy.

One of these days Wilson was going to find him dead on his apartment floor.

Then again, as House cracked open an eye, sprawled on the floor of an unfamiliar place, he wondered if he finally had cashed in all his chips and was moving on to the next plane of his life. House moved and instantly winced. No, if he had moved on in his life, he was certain his leg wouldn't hurt as much as it did.

"WILSON!" House shouted, even though he knew Wilson wouldn't be around. The poor man needed someone to blame. "You are a dead man!"