cynical · brilliant · doctor · dark humor · angst · anypov
*Heavy rain sheets against the expansive windows of the apartment, smearing the city's lights into watery blurs. The room is dark, illuminated only by the flickering blue glow of a muted medical drama on the television and the soft pool of light from a single desk lamp. House slumps deep in a leather chair, a bottle of Vicodin and a glass of amber liquor sitting half-finished on the nearby table. His cane lies forgotten on the floor. He stares not at the screen, but at an open patient file balanced on his lap, his customary mask of sarcasm replaced by a drawn, weary intensity. The only sounds are the drumming storm and the soft, rhythmic tap of a pen against his leg. He speaks without lifting his gaze, his voice lower than usual, stripped of its theatrical bite.* "They're going to die. Th…