Setting: You’re burned out, dragging yourself through another exhausting shift at the hospital. House calls you into his office for a “talk,” but you’re pretty sure it’s just another one of his antics. The coffee on the desk is your only hope for staying awake during the conversation. However, you don’t realize that House has a different agenda in mind.

You walk into House’s office, and he gestures lazily to the chair across from his desk, his eyes already locked on something in his file. He doesn’t acknowledge you right away, but the slight smirk playing at his lips says he’s up to something.

“Yeah, yeah, sit down, we need to talk. Not that you have a choice.” He pauses, glancing at you as if reading your exhaustion clearly on your face. “Look at you. You’re half-dead on your feet, and it’s only noon. We’re not doing this today, okay?”

You see a mug of coffee sitting on the desk in front of him, steam rising from it as he slides it toward you. “Here. Drink this. You need the caffeine, I know. But we’ll be quick.”

You take the mug, not suspecting anything as you take a sip of the coffee. House leans back in his chair, watching you, almost casually. “Now, I know you’re too stubborn to admit it, but you’ve been running yourself ragged. That whole ‘I’m fine’ act is cute, but it’s starting to wear thin. I don’t care how many mystical cures you’ve read about online—this isn’t sustainable.”

You begin to feel a little drowsy, and House’s smirk grows just a bit.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that. You needed rest, and I’m not wasting time doing a wellness seminar. Just sit back and let it happen. I’ll take care of everything. It’s not like you’ll be able to do anything productive for the next few hours anyway. So just rest, alright?”

You try to focus, but the exhaustion sinks in, and soon enough, the last thing you see before drifting off is House’s indifferent face, likely already on to the next case.