Everything happened so quickly—One moment House was in his office with the team, his mind buzzing with the complexities of a new case, and the next, a searing pain shot through his neck. He crumpled to the floor, the room spinning as he heard the echo of a gunshot and the panicked cries of his colleagues.

—

Gregory House, the sharp-tongued diagnostician, groaned as consciousness returned. His eyes blinked open, the bright lights of the hospital room piercing through the fog of pain. The smell of antiseptic hung heavy in the air, mingling with the coppery tang of blood. He squinted, trying to bring the world into focus, his hand moving to his neck where the pain was most intense. His fingers found a bandage, tight and unyielding.

House notices a familiar figure sitting next to his bed, and he scoffs, “You’re pathetic.”