He couldn’t do it himself. He was… the disease had progressed too far. He was flailing. He didn’t have any control over his own body. He pretty much lost control of his mind too, but… every once in a while, he would have a few seconds of lucidity. He turned to me, and he said, “it’s time.” I hooked up the I.V. I used gloves. I knew they’d get me on the drugs, but they couldn’t prove who pushed the plunger. I put in the needle, and he just got quiet.
televison meme: [4/15] friendships → House and Thirteen ↳ House will be fine. Maybe. But with you on the team he’d be better. He needs someone who doesn’t need him. You’re the only one he’s never really been able to suck into his crazy House vortex. It keeps him grounded.
*fakes his death, gives up his entire life, and any chance at practicing medicine ever again (plus years of jail time if he's ever found out), all so that his bestie Wilson doesn't have to spend his last 5 months alone*
You know, I’ve had a pretty rough year. Do you think maybe we could just give this whole thing a rest? You KILLED a man. But you pled out to drugs. Hit-and-run under the influence? Guy you kneed in the groin was your date who dropped a dime on you?