Paramedical Phenomena: Act Four
May. 22nd, 2012 11:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kasihyaHaha oh god this is long. But I think it is well within my capabilities to finish the draft tomorrow! Then I will go about figuring out how I'm supposed to edit the damn thing. It's sixty pages right now and that's just with all of the blocking.
EDIT: Okay, I'm done with this act. It is thirty-six pages long. HAHAHAHA WHAT IS THIS I DON'T EVEN.
ACT FOUR
INT. HOSPITAL — HOSPITAL ROOM — DAY
It is the following morning. SAM and HOUSE are walking around each other at the far end of the room from the bed. HOUSE is extremely irritated, shouting; SAM paces to keep him in full view, hands clenched into fists. DEAN is drifting in and out of consciousness, coughing again throughout the scene.
HOUSE
Now, I’m curious, how does ‘I’m seeing a blue three-eyed monster at the window’ not set off alarm bells in your head?
SAM
I —
HOUSE
Is this some kind of occultist thing? The mystic triclops, who brings good fortune to anyone who sees him!
(slapping himself on the forehead)
Oh, of course! Silly me, of course it’s not a hallucination, it’s an omen.
SAM
Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t think —
HOUSE
Apparently. Well, congratulations. Thanks to you, your brother has been running a fever for the past ten hours, and we’ve only just started to make a dent in it.
SAM
(frustrated, in a loud voice)
Will you please stop? I screwed up, okay? You don’t need to make me feel any more guilty than I already am!
HOUSE
Yeah, but I can. This is the sort of thing where when the night shift nurse comes in and asks if everything is okay, you don’t lie. It’s not a matter of jail time, it’s life and death.
SAM
But he’s going to be okay, right?
HOUSE, having worked off the greater part of his rage at the many idiots of the world, stops pacing, and lowers his voice back to normal, though irate, volume.
HOUSE
We don’t know. Fever means he’s not responding to the [drugs] we’re giving him. Or it could be a result of infection from the surgery. Or it could be a reaction to the blood transfusion. We don’t know.
SAM
So what are you going to do?
HOUSE
Keep up with the [drugs], search for infection, and wait to see what happens.
SAM
That’s it?
HOUSE
Well, we could perform an exorcism, if you think that would help.
SAM scowls. He unfolds, as though about to inform HOUSE that demonic possession doesn’t manifest like that, before remembering that saying that would just make him look like even more of a lunatic; so instead, he does an about-face and leans back against the windowsill instead, watching Dean. HOUSE walks over to the other side of the bed to loom over Dean for a moment. DEAN frowns in his sleep, opens his eyes, and attempts to say something to HOUSE.
DEAN
(slurred)
Goddamn fairies.
HOUSE
Hey hey, homosexuals are people just like the rest of us.
DEAN
Whatever, man.
(coughing)
Where’s Sam?
SAM
Over here.
DEAN
Sammy?
SAM
Yeah?
HOUSE
I’ll leave you to your no doubt touching and meaningful conversation. Tell the blue man I say hi.
He limps out of the room and walks down the hallway towards his office.
INT. HOSPITAL — OUTER OFFICE — DAY
HOUSE enters. The DUCKLINGS are seated around the table.
HOUSE
Castigation has been achieved.
CHASE
And the patient?
HOUSE
Hundred and four degree fever, no sign of change. Any bright ideas?
FOREMAN
We’re waiting for [lab results from cultures they took].
HOUSE
All of them?
FOREMAN
The labs can only take three at once … we each did the one we thought was most likely.
HOUSE
Well, go get some more ready. Check for the less likely ones.
CAMERON
We were just talking, and [suggestion regarding something that would bring down the fever in case the current antibiotics don’t work].
HOUSE
Don’t be stupid, if [that] was the solution he’d be out of here by now. [Do this new, better idea].
CAMERON makes a face as she, CHASE, and FOREMAN leave the room to go run tests. HOUSE walks past them into his own office.
INT. HOSPITAL — HOUSE’S OFFICE — DAY
HOUSE settles into the chair behind his desk, puts his feet up, and grabs the Ball of Mysterious Origins. He begins tossing it up and down whilst thinking, but is soon interrupted when CUDDY walks in and stands in front of his desk with what has been described as the Jewish Mother look on her face, and a manila envelope in her hand. HOUSE continues tossing the ball and ignores her.
CUDDY
House.
HOUSE
Present.
He puts down the ball and looks at her expectantly.
CUDDY
When were you going to tell me that you were treating a wanted felon?
HOUSE
(trying and failing to look innocent)
I am?
CUDDY continues to look at him.
HOUSE
Who was it this time?
CUDDY
Excuse me?
HOUSE
Which one of them ratted me out?
CUDDY
(shaking her head)
That's irrelevant.
HOUSE
It was Cameron, wasn't it.
CUDDY
Of course not, why would you think that?
HOUSE
Foreman. Damn him.
CUDDY
House, who did it is beside the point. I'm not going to tell you just so that you can punish them. The point is that you are withholding this sort of information, which the hospital needs to know.
HOUSE
Why? What difference does it make? I'm still going to want to keep him here until he's not going to keel over the minute he gets to the police station.
CUDDY
You could have told me that.
HOUSE
Would it have worked?
CUDDY doesn't answer. Her expression says 'No, you're right, but you're also doing illegal things, so it really shouldn't make a difference.'
HOUSE
Now what?
CUDDY
What's the patient's condition?
HOUSE
(sarcastically, poking fun at her without being serious)
Oh, so now you care about him. That's not hypocritical at all.
CUDDY rolls her eyes.
HOUSE
Less than twelve hours out of surgery, feverish and delusional. My team is working on it right now. I know what you're thinking, and no, he's not going to make it out of the hospital if you call the police now.
CUDDY appears to resign herself to this, but she's not going down without a fight.
CUDDY
I have no choice. It's my duty as Dean of Medicine to report this person to the police.
HOUSE
Report him? Please, we have no idea who this guy is. Hi, officer, I'd like to report this person. What's he done? Well, sir, he's given us so many different names, I don't even know who he is.
CUDDY
Dean Winchester.
HOUSE
What?
CUDDY
That’s his name.
She tosses the folder she's been holding onto his desk. HOUSE picks it up and flips it open in one hand. He raises his eyebrows.
HOUSE
Impressive work, Sherlock.
CUDDY
I had [explanation of how she delegated responsibilities to someone else to figure this out]. Last seen in [that town with the dead girl in the walls].
HOUSE
Neat. I still object to you taking my patient away to die, by the way.
CUDDY considers this.
CUDDY
How much longer do you need?
HOUSE
(checking his watch)
Thirty three minutes.
(pause)
A couple more days, at least. And that's assuming that we figure out what's killing him within the next hour, and that it works immediately. I'm just factoring in the whole 'stomach surgery' deal.
CUDDY reaches across the desk to take away the folder.
CUDDY
You have two days. After that, I’m calling the police.
HOUSE
And I will tell them, they cannot check a dying man out of this hospital.
CUDDY
(as she turns and walks out of the office)
Two and a half.
HOUSE snatches an important-looking sheet of paper off of his desk, crumples it into a ball, and aims playfully at the back of CUDDY’s head. However, he spends too much time aiming, and by the time it leaves his hand, it hits the glass door as it closes behind her. It would appear that this was his intention. He sits back and resumes tossing the BMO and thinking. After a moment, some stray thought catches his attention; he pauses, spins the chair around, and frowns at several old books on his bookshelves.
HOUSE
Huh.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
INT. MOTEL — SAM’S ROOM — DAY
The door handle rattles as someone outside works at the lock; when it gives, HOUSE enters the room. He looks around in obvious disgust at the walls papered with printouts and handwritten notes; at the beds that still haven’t been made since three days prior; at the windows with the shades drawn, which make the whole room dark except for where slivers of early afternoon light manage to make their way in. HOUSE hovers in the doorway to assess the situation and figure out where to begin. He decides on the desk, shuffling his way over to it. It’s mostly been cleared off since the last scene.
HOUSE ignores the papers taped to the walls and, in the absence of books, moves on to the far bed. He goes to the duffel bag at its foot, and starts rummaging through it. He comes up with clothing, bullets, a couple of clunky electromagnetic field detectors. It is as he is tossing those aside that he looks at where they have landed: on top of a very old book, entitled Natural History, Lore and Legend: being some few examples of quaint and by-gone beliefs, gathered in from divers authorities, ancient and mediaeval, of varying degrees of reliability. HOUSE picks it up and examines the edges, running his finger along the gap between binding and pages and looking at what it picks up.
HOUSE
Bingo.
With an effort, HOUSE gets up, leaning on the edge of the bed for support. It doesn’t work quite as well as he’d have hoped, because it’s a crappy mattress that bends underneath him so that his arm ends up buckling, and he lands on his elbow on the bed. It’s then that he takes notice of the discarded shirt lying on the bed — the one with a bit of blood on it from where Dean started coughing and ditched it to avoid further damage.
What is more interesting, though, is the tiny flecks of black on the edge of the same shirt, which are brought into sharp focus by the proximity of HOUSE’s face to the mattress. He gives up on hoisting himself up, and rolls over instead so that he is kneeling, and can examine the shirt properly. He sniffs it and gags, exaggeratedly. He pulls a very small plastic bag out of his pocket, along with tweezers, and picks out as much of the black as he can find — far less than a gram, just a couple of grains, but enough to be visible inside the baggie.
Having accomplished this, HOUSE makes a second attempt at getting up. This one is more successful than the first. He takes the baggie and the book, and looks around at the room again.
HOUSE
Yeesh.
INT. HOSPITAL — OUTER OFFICE — DAY
A little over an hour later, HOUSE, FOREMAN, CAMERON, and CHASE have regrouped.
FOREMAN
Nothing. All of the tests were negative.
CAMERON
We’ll go get more samples, and start them over again.
HOUSE
No need.
CHASE
What?
HOUSE
It occurred to me that people are idiots.
(His team exchanges glances; this is nothing new)
They’ll believe anything, and rather than look for facts to tell them what to believe, they’ll believe something, and then go find evidence to support it.
CHASE
I’m assuming you’re about to explain what we’ve been missing, and how you figured it out, right?
HOUSE
(ignoring CHASE)
Say that something you believe in is paranormal, where do you find your best evidence? Not in modern-day books; most normal people don’t believe in that stuff anymore, and anyone can put anything on the internet. If you believe that you’re going to be hunting ghosts, you go for the old ghost stories.
He walks over to the counter behind his chair and picks up the book he found in the motel room, showing it to the DUCKLINGS. It is wrapped and sealed in a plastic bag.
HOUSE
Exhibit A.
(holding the book at arm’s length to read the title with a flourish)
“Natural History, Lore and Legend: being some few examples of quaint and by-gone beliefs, gathered in from divers authorities, ancient and mediaeval, of varying degrees of reliability.” Date of publication, 1895. Date of infection with [toxic mold], sometime after that.
CAMERON
You think he might have inhaled mold while reading?
CHASE
We didn’t screen for it. It’s possible. It gets into the trachea; some goes into the patient’s lungs and inflames the lining; if enough got into the stomach, it could cause the bleed over time.
FOREMAN
That’d have to be some pretty acidic mold.
HOUSE
Hence the plastic bag. I like my lungs the way they are.
FOREMAN
Doesn’t explain the rash.
CHASE
Could be an allergic reaction.
CAMERON ponders this, unconvinced.
CHASE
Okay, so we treat that with [something to kill the mold].
FOREMAN
If it’s the mold.
CHASE
It’s the best we’ve got to go on.
HOUSE
No it’s not. There’s something else.
He leans back against the counter and waits.
CAMERON
… Are you going to tell us what it is?
HOUSE
(startling, with exaggerated effect)
Oh! Right. I don’t know.
CHASE
Excuse me?
HOUSE reaches behind him and pulls out the smaller baggie.
HOUSE
Found this on his clothing. Judging by the bloodstains, either he’d just committed a very small murder, or that was what he was wearing before he came to the hospital.
FOREMAN
Could be the brother’s.
HOUSE
Right. The guy with the life-threatening blood loss issue is definitely not the one in contact with foreign substances.
FOREMAN folds his arms and settles for looking pointedly at HOUSE without speaking. HOUSE tosses the bag onto the table in front of his team.
HOUSE
Go to the lab, figure out what this is and what makes it go away.
CHASE
How?
HOUSE
Isn’t there a ‘weird black stuff’ handbook around here somewhere? Start looking for matches.
CHASE
That could take days.
HOUSE
Then I guess you’d better get started.
CAMERON
Where are you going?
HOUSE
Lunch. I missed mine driving back from scenic Frenchtown.
HOUSE exits.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
INT. HOSPITAL — LAB ROOM — NIGHT
The clock on the wall reads 8:41pm. The team have been there on and off all day, running through different tests to figure out what this black stuff is. CAMERON is looking through a microscope, with slides piled up next to her; FOREMAN is in much the same attitude, though across the table; CHASE has temporarily abandoned his microscope and is leaning back in his chair, spinning around in it. He groans and stands.
CHASE
I’m going to get dinner. You guys want anything from the cafeteria?
CAMERON
Caesar salad and a milkshake.
FOREMAN
Not that.
CHASE
Scungili it is.
He exits. CAMERON and FOREMAN continue to work. CAMERON’s phone rings, and she picks it up.
CAMERON
Hello?
HOUSE (V.O.)
What do you have for me?
CAMERON rests her head on her hand. When she speaks, she sounds weary.
CAMERON
Nothing. Nothing even close to matching the stuff you found. Are you sure it’s even mold?
(INT. 221B — LIVING ROOM — NIGHT
HOUSE sits on his couch, with the phone to his ear and a movie on television paused.
HOUSE
I don’t know. What does it look like to you?)
CAMERON
Structurally, it looks like a fungus.
(INT. 221B — LIVING ROOM — NIGHT
HOUSE
Just not one you’ve ever seen before.)
CAMERON
Yeah.
HOUSE (V.O.)
That’s good news. Keep looking.
CAMERON
House, we’ve been here for nearly seven hours.
HOUSE (V.O.)
You’re getting paid overtime, right? Quit complaining. Let me know when you find something, and tell Chase to get his feet off the table before he contaminates something.
HOUSE hangs up. CAMERON lifts her head and stares at the phone. She looks across the table at FOREMAN, who sighs.
INT. WILSON’S HOUSE — LIVING ROOM — NIGHT
WILSON is sitting on the couch, watching television and eating Chinese takeout, when there is a knock on the door. He gets up and opens the door to find HOUSE standing outside.
WILSON
Hello?
HOUSE brushes past him to come inside. WILSON follows him.
WILSON
I’m assuming you have a reason for barging into my house at nine thirty at night?
HOUSE
I need to talk to you.
WILSON
Um, okay. Is this the ‘I’ve finally admitted that I have a drug problem’ talk, or the ‘I’m stuck on a case and I need something to jog a completely meaningless fact from my memory that will solve everything’ talk. Or! My personal favorite, the ‘your marriage is falling apart and I want to make sure you know that’ talk.
HOUSE and WILSON walk from the doorway to the living room as they talk, and sit down on the couch.= together.
HOUSE
That second one. We’ll pretend it’s the first one. It never works if I know what’s going to happen — I have to sneak up on myself. And I’m sick of your wife right now.
WILSON
Your tact is astounding. Don’t worry, she’s visiting her parents.
HOUSE
Of course she is.
WILSON
House.
HOUSE
Sorry. Wrong conversation. Out of curiosity, did she tell you not to call her while she’s there?
WILSON
House, stop it.
HOUSE
But did she?
WILSON
No, she didn’t. I got off the phone with her an hour ago.
HOUSE
I see. Any background noises?
WILSON
I thought we were having a heartfelt conversation about your Vicodin addiction.
HOUSE
No, no, this is much more interesting.
WILSON
I thought you weren’t interested in talking about Julie.
HOUSE
Wasn’t. See, the thing is, there are many, many other things we talk about more than we talk about your marriage. You could have easily used one of those, but you decided to use that as an example, so obviously that was a subconscious cry for help. And, like a good and loyal friend, I am here to listen to your woes.
WILSON
No — House, no, that’s not what I meant.
HOUSE
(talking over the tail end of his sentence)
Oh, come on, it’s obvious. There’s barely enough room in here to move around the gigantic elephant.
WILSON
The what?
HOUSE
The elephant in the room that we aren’t talking about, even though it’s clearly …
(he gets a faraway look on his face)
… there …
WILSON throws up his hands. HOUSE stands up and makes a beeline for the door, despite the fact that he has been there for less than five minutes.
WILSON
(calling to him on his way out)
Glad to be of service!
HOUSE stops at the door to grin back at him before he lets himself out.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
INT. HOSPITAL — HOSPITAL ROOM — NIGHT
SAM stands next to DEAN’s bed, arms folded, watching the screens which monitor heart rate, blood pressure, body temperature, etc. DEAN is lying on his back; he starts wheezing and taps SAM on the back to get his attention. SAM pulls him upright so that he can lean forward and cough properly.
DEAN
This is getting old.
SAM
Tomorrow night.
DEAN
(hoarsely)
There isn’t a giant dog on my feet, is there.
SAM
No. Just ignore it.
DEAN
Kinda hard.
He kicks the blankets up, as if to dispel the illusion.
SAM
I can promise you, there’s no way a dog got into this room without me seeing it.
DEAN sighs, and slides back down again. He shuts his eyes.
SAM moves away and starts pacing; as he reaches the end of the bed, he waves his hand around in the air over it, just to make sure that there really is nothing there. When he looks up, HOUSE is leaning against the doorway. He retracts his hand.
HOUSE
Most of my patients — actually, scratch that, all of my patients — are stupid.
SAM
… Okay?
HOUSE
So are their families. It’s just a matter of where they stand on the stupid scale. On the one end, there’s the man who was so convinced he was pregnant, he went into labor. On the other, there’s the guy who knowingly ate himself into morbid obesity, and just didn’t care. And that’s just the men.
SAM
And where do we fit in?
HOUSE
(walking into the room)
See, that’s what I’m trying to figure out. It would take a whole new level of stupidity to willfully ignore an obvious hallucination, and then lie to the nurses about it.
SAM
Okay, I get it. I screwed up.
HOUSE
On the other hand, everything else you’ve done so far has been only about a three on the scale, and that was more like a negative seven, which leads me to believe there was something else going on that you’re not telling us.
SAM looks around — at the wall past House, at Dean, at the ceiling, swinging his hands.
HOUSE
Does he frequently see things that aren’t there?
DEAN
(groggily)
What’s going on?
SAM
Nothing. Just … nothing.
DEAN goes back to sleep. SAM watches him for a moment.
SAM
It’s … not that he sees things that aren’t there. It’s more like … sometimes there are things there that not everyone can see, and people usually freak out when we tell them.
HOUSE
(clearly unconvinced)
I see.
SAM
Or they don’t believe us.
HOUSE
Not at all. But let’s pretend that I do.
SAM
Why?
HOUSE
Because my team have an unidentifiable black substance that we think may be screwing with your brother’s system, and they’ve spent eight hours today trying to find something that would match its description.
SAM
You think it may be supernatural?
HOUSE
No, I think that you think it is, and I want to hear your theories.
SAM frowns at him, puzzled. HOUSE makes impatient motions with his hand.
HOUSE
Come on, go with it! Aren’t conspiracy theorists supposed to jump on this sort of opportunity?
SAM
(disgruntled)
It’s … okay, you’ve heard of fairies, right?
HOUSE
Now I have.
SAM
They do this thing … they can make things from their own world look like food. I’m pretty sure that Mike ate some of their food, and that’s what’s causing the problem.
HOUSE
Interesting. How do you figure that?
SAM
(reluctantly, after a pregnant pause)
We really are doing research on paranormal phenomena. We went and talked to some fairies … guess they weren’t happy with the intrusion.
HOUSE
Ah, yes, those pesky fairies.
SAM
Hey, you asked.
HOUSE
Doesn’t mean I believe anything you’re saying.
SAM
(reaching into his bag)
You don’t believe me?
(pulling out his own bag of formerly-gingerbread crumbs and tossing it at HOUSE)
Here. This was a piece of gingerbread until I touched it with iron.
HOUSE looks down at the bag in his hand, and back up at SAM.
HOUSE
Interesting. Mind if I keep this?
SAM
Would it help?
HOUSE
(walking away)
Maybe … Gingerbread, huh?
INT. HOSPITAL — OUTER OFFICE — DAY
Early the next morning, CAMERON and FOREMAN are sitting at the table, preoccupied with their own thoughts. CHASE walks in with coffee and sits down.
CHASE
Where’s House?
CAMERON
Don’t know.
HOUSE enters. He’s changed into clean clothes, which means that he did end up going home at some point, but there are dark circles under his eyes and he looks tired. He seats himself as well.
CAMERON
You look terrible.
HOUSE
Gee, thanks. Just what every man wants to hear.
CAMERON
Are you okay?
HOUSE
Yesterday’s attempts to identify our mysterious moldy friend were less than successful, right?
The DUCKLINGS exchange weary looks.
HOUSE
Wrong!
This gets their attention.
HOUSE holds up the bag that SAM gave him the previous night.
HOUSE
Behold. I give you implements of fairy torture.
FOREMAN
Excuse me?
HOUSE
That’s what our friend Lucas thinks, anyway. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that fairies don’t exist. This, my friends, is aspergillus fumigates — chemically the same as the mold you so diligently spent precious hours of your lives analyzing yesterday.
CHASE
Huh.
CAMERON
How did you figure that out?
HOUSE
Simple. I asked Lucas to tell me about his brother’s hallucinations. Turns out, they’re hunting fairies, who gave him bad gingerbread.
He makes a face: ‘Who knew? Not me. Those crazy ghost hunters.’
FOREMAN
(exhausted)
What are you talking about?
HOUSE
I’m talking about psychological manipulation. It’s brilliant. Don’t make me explain it and ruin all the fun.
CHASE raises his eyebrows. CAMERON gets to her feet.
CAMERON
I’ll go get Mike started on ribavirin.
INT. HOSPITAL — HOSPITAL ROOM — DAY
SAM is sleeping in the chair when CAMERON gets to the room; DEAN is lying awake, scowling at the ceiling. CAMERON looks around, not sure who to address.
DEAN
What’s up, doc?
CAMERON
(smiling)
Hey, how are you feeling?
DEAN
I’m fine.
CAMERON
I’m a doctor. It’s my job to ask.
DEAN
… Like shit. I can’t breathe, I look terrible, and I keep thinking there are things in the room that aren’t there. And I got a bunch of doctors who don’t know what’s wrong with me.
CAMERON
Actually, that’s what I came to tell you. We think we know what’s causing your symptoms.
DEAN
Oh, yeah? Enlighten me.
CAMERON
It’s a mycotoxin found in mold. It’s usually found on wheat and rye … and we’re not sure how, but you managed to get some in your lungs. The solution is effective in most cases, although there is a significant chance that you’ll suffer from side effects for the rest of your life.
DEAN
Can you wake up …. Um … Lucas? He’s the smart one.
CAMERON
Sure.
CAMERON shakes SAM on the shoulder. He scrubs his face with his hands and takes a moment to wake up properly, looking nearly as terrible as House.
SAM
Oh, hi. Sorry. Is everything okay?
CAMERON
(smiling)
Yeah, we hope so. House thinks we’ve found the issue; we’re still waiting for an official diagnosis, but we’re going to start treatment now.
SAM
(clearly struggling to regain full consciousness)
Great. What’s the treatment?
CAMERON hefts an IV bag of a clear liquid.
CAMERON
It’s called ribavirin. It should fight the infection.
SAM
Should.
CAMERON
Mike’s symptoms didn’t present in the usual way, so we didn’t catch it as early as we normally would have. There’s a chance that he’ll suffer permanent lung damage.
SAM
Well, is there any way you can fix that?
CAMERON
We’ll see how things go. It could clear up fine; there have been … instances … where patients have recovered completely, with no side effects.
SAM
But they’re not frequent instances.
CAMERON
No, I’m sorry.
SAM
(bringing his hands up to his face, talking more to himself than CAMERON)
Okay. Okay, no, this will be okay.
(to CAMERON)
How long until you’ll know if this works?
CAMERON
We should start to see change in about six hours.
SAM
(swallowing visibly)
Okay. Go ahead.
CAMERON hooks up the IV to the stand, and attaches it.
CAMERON
Someone will be in to check on you in a little while, if you need anything.
INT. HOSPITAL — HOSPITAL ROOM — DAY
By the sun coming through the window, it is now several hours later, in the afternoon. SAM is sitting and tapping his feet impatiently. DEAN is watching him.
DEAN
Hey, guess what.
SAM
Huh?
DEAN
I can hear music.
SAM
There’s nothing here.
DEAN
I know. It’s one of those, what do you call it, those auditory things.
SAM
(in the manner of one slightly worried for his sanity)
Hallucinations?
DEAN
Yeah, one of those things.
He presses the heel of his palm to his forehead and shuts his eyes.
SAM
You’ll be fine soon.
(standing)
Listen, I’ll be back in a bit. I’m going to go find the stuff that they took from our room.
DEAN
Sure.
SAM exits.
INT. HOSPITAL — OUTER OFFICE — DAY
SAM approaches from the hallway. He looks in cautiously to make sure that there is no one there, or in the halls, before opening the door and going in. Once inside, he looks around, and settles on the counter with all of its drawers and cabinets above them. With several quick, nervous glances over his shoulder at the glass walls, he goes to the counter drawers and begins opening them, one after the other. None of them contain the IDs, just ordinary medical things. After looking in the cabinets and finding nothing, he moves on to HOUSE’s office.
INT. HOSPITAL — HOUSE’S OFFICE — DAY
HOUSE’s office has a bit more clutter, and the stakes are slightly higher if he gets caught here. A nurse walks past with a clipboard; he ducks behind the desk and hides there until he’s certain that she’s gone. From his position on the floor, he begins opening the drawers on the desk, and rifling through the contents. In the bottom drawer on the right, he discovers a thick manila envelope; when he looks inside, it contains the IDs. SAM shoves the envelope into his jacket, and sticks his head around the side of the desk. The hallway is empty; he stands and walks out of the office.
INT. HOSPITAL — HALLWAY — DAY
SAM makes it halfway down the corridor before he runs into CAMERON, nearly literally, as she heads for the OUTER OFFICE with CHASE.
SAM
Oh, sorry, sorry. Are you okay?
CAMERON
I’m fine. Were you looking for one of us?
SAM
(inspired)
Yeah. I was just wondering, do you have the results back? The things, that let you know whether it’s … the thing that you think it is. For my brother.
CHASE
(with a glance aside at CAMERON)
We were just heading back with that now. It’s definitely hypersensitivity pneumonitis.
SAM stares at him blankly.
CAMERON
That’s what we’re treating.
SAM
Oh! Right, right. Thanks.
CAMERON
Is that it?
SAM
Yeah. I just needed to leave the room for a few minutes, figured that was a good enough reason. I’ll go let Mike know.
He takes half a step forwards, and then remembers.
SAM
It’s normal, to not see any improvement yet, right?
CAMERON
Why, has something changed?
(looking at her clipboard)
The nurses didn’t say …
SAM
No, no … I mean, he’s hearing music now, but that’s nothing new, right?
CHASE
It’s probably nothing. Auditory hallucinations are actually more common than visual ones.
SAM
Okay.
SAM runs off down the hallway, hand tucked inside his jacket to hold onto the folder. CHASE and CAMERON look at each other, shrug, and move on.
INT. HOSPITAL — HOSPITAL ROOM — DAY
HOUSE is walking by, and glances in. He does a double-take, stops, and opens the door.
HOUSE
Where did the other one go?
DEAN
(muzzily)
I made him go home. He was starting to smell.
He continues to gaze in HOUSE’s direction, half confused frown, half glare, for an uncomfortable length of time. HOUSE blinks.
HOUSE
Okay. Good to know these things.
DEAN
Your cafeteria is crap, by the way.
HOUSE
You’re not supposed to be eating from it.
DEAN shrugs.
HOUSE ducks out of the room and continues on his way.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
INT. MOTEL — ROOM — NIGHT
The room is dark, lit only by one of the bedside lamps. SAM rattles around the room: pulling all of the papers off the walls, digging into the drawers to find things. He fiddles around with the same drawer where CHASE found the bag of that pepper stuff, trying to find it before remembering that it is now at the hospital. Oh well, it’s not like it would have done much good anyway. He finishes clearing out the room, and shuts the door behind him.
INT. IMPALA — NIGHT
SAM drives to the fairies’ house. His clothing is inside-out, he has his iron-bullet gun, and the sum total of their possessions in the back seat of the car. In the passenger seat is the envelope from House’s desk, and a knife with a dark blade.
EXT. HOUSE — PORCH — NIGHT
SAM knocks on the front door. The OLD WOMAN opens it just before he would have gotten impatient. She seems a little startled to find him there.
OLD WOMAN
Hello. What can I do for you, young man?
SAM
I know what you are, and I know what you did to my brother.
OLD WOMAN
(calling back into the house)
Oberon, it’s back.
SAM attempts to get a look inside the house. A moment later, OBERON appears behind the OLD WOMAN. He smiles thinly at SAM.
OBERON
Send it away, Tatiana.
SAM
I know what you did to Dean. Now tell me how to fix it.
TATIANA
Doctors can take care of that sort of thing, my dear.
SAM
A bruise in the shape of a protection symbol? Come on.
TATIANA smiles.
OBERON
Greedy little human. I like them better than the polite ones.
TATIANA
(affecting a high-pitched, saccharine voice)
Would you like a cookie, my dear? I just finished baking today.
OBERON
(in a similar tone)
Don’t worry, I’m the tooth fairy. Don’t tell your parents.
TATIANA
Every time, it works.
SAM
Not on me.
He pulls the gun out on them.
CUT TO:
INT. HOSPITAL — HOSPITAL ROOM — NIGHT
HOUSE and the DUCKLINGS are gathered in the corner of the room, arguing amongst themselves.
CAMERON
I don’t understand. The tests were positive; this should be having an effect.
FOREMAN
Maybe we didn’t catch it soon enough.
CHASE
We could try upping the dosage, see if that makes any difference.
HOUSE
One of you explain why that’s not a good idea.
FOREMAN
Increased dosage could lead to increased risk of thrombocytopenia, on top of a tendency to spontaneously hemorrhage.
CHASE
We can’t just do nothing.
CAMERON
We can give it a little more time. It could just be a particularly resistant form.
FOREMAN
In which case upping the dosage probably wouldn’t change anything anyway.
HOUSE lowers his head and stares at DEAN.
HOUSE
Give it another two hours. If we don’t have anything by then, increase the dosage.
CUT TO:
EXT. HOUSE — PORCH — NIGHT
No time has passed since the last cut. SAM has the gun drawn on TATIANA and OBERON. OBERON makes sure to put TATIANA in front of him, hands on her shoulders. TATIANA tilts her head, a few degrees too far to the side to be natural-looking.
TATIANA
Put that down.
SAM
Nope.
TATIANA
We’re not unreasonable, contrary to what your type think of us. We’re willing to negotiate.
SAM
So there’s a way to stop the disease.
TATIANA
There’s a way to improve the possibility of recovery.
SAM
How?
TATIANA
(smiling)
Fairy blood.
SAM
(pausing to think about it)
What do you want?
TATIANA
(spreading her hands)
To be left alone. I can give you the means to help your kin, and you can leave the children with us.
SAM
(hesitating a moment before answering)
What do you want with them?
TATIANA leans back to make eye contact with OBERON, as though engaged in a silent conversation; OBERON responds.
OBERON
An offering, for the Unseelie Queen.
TATIANA
Back taxes, if you will. She’s very fond of children.
OBERON
(grinning)
Especially in duck sauce.
SAM
No. No, sorry. I need you to let them go.
OBERON
Can’t do that.
SAM squints, and shoots OBERON — what’s visible of him behind TATIANA. Instead of collapsing, OBERON turns into a pile of ashes on the stoop behind TATIANA. She jumps forward with agility unusual in someone of her age. SAM aims at her next.
TATIANA
Now you’ve just made me angry.
SAM
[Give me what I want or you’re next.]
TATIANA
Drop that. You can’t use it on me anyway.
SAM keeps one hand on the gun while he reaches into his belt with the other and retrieves the knife instead. TATIANA turns into an even more wrinkled, decrepit creature with an extra set of arms, rags instead of clothing, and a set of fangs that would put a saber-toothed tiger to shame. The night is already dark, but it becomes clear that TATIANA is doing more than just transforming herself, as the surroundings start to resemble Starry Night with screaming faces hidden in the brush strokes. The atmosphere becomes dense and claustrophobic. SAM whirls around, trying to figure out what is going on with the porch; when he turns back to the front door, TATIANA is no longer there. She becomes just one more of the faces in the air.
SAM continues to turn around in circles like it will help, backing up until he can press himself against the wall in order to defend himself properly. TATIANA cackles at him with the voice of an old woman, but doesn’t actually make any moves to attack. This is puzzling to SAM, up until the point when one of her bony arms lashes out from seemingly nowhere, and her fingers wrap around his left arm in a death grip. SAM slashes at the arm; she moves out of the way, and thus avoids being stabbed. He kicks out in the same direction as the arm came from, ducks inside the house, and slams the door shut behind him. The weirdness in the air and the screaming faces stop, and the house is eerily silent.
INT. HOUSE — LIVING ROOM — NIGHT
SAM has his back to the wall, edging from the door down the short hall to the kitchen, looking around frantically for any sign of TATIANA. Silence, and then the front window opens. SAM directs his attention and his knife towards it immediately, which makes it all the more startling when TATIANA in old woman form appears in the kitchen doorway, looking small and feeble. SAM looks between her and the window, confused.
TATIANA holds out a plate of gingerbread.
TATIANA
Cookie?
This distracts SAM just long enough for the invisible TATIANA who came in through the window, to grab him and toss him to the ground. It knocks the wind out of him, but SAM doesn’t lose his grip on his knife. He rolls over onto his back and looks towards the kitchen door. Old woman TATIANA has vanished. SAM scrambles back towards the wall and gets to his feet once he has it at his back. There is a flicker of movement at the other end of the living room; he moves towards that, hears something behind him, and spins around, lunging forwards with his arm bent.
He connects with invisible TATIANA; she doesn’t become visible, but the evidence is clear that she is indeed falling backwards and tripping over the throw carpet. SAM presses his advantage and throws himself at the air where it would appear that she went. He keeps the knife out of it. TATIANA falls backwards and into the small, high table near the door, and falls to the ground with an invisible thump. SAM holds the knife in front of him and points it at where she would have fallen.
SAM
Stop. You lose.
TATIANA becomes visible again, again as a fragile old woman with filmy eyes. She looks pathetic.
TATIANA
I lose.
SAM
I don’t want to hurt you, but I need your blood, and I need you to let those kids go.
TATIANA
(feebly)
You can’t — I can’t. The queen will kill me.
SAM
Not my problem.
He hesitates in spite of his words. TATIANA seizes the opportunity and lunges forward with a feral grin, pushing him out of the way with fairy strength rather than old woman strength. SAM is caught off guard, but he keeps his head and rolls with it, getting to his feet again and stabbing TATIANA as she fades into invisibility. The knife remains visible from the point at which it is no longer in her side, which looks extremely strange but allows SAM to track her progress.
TATIANA collapses onto the ground. Green blood from the knife wound pours out onto the ground beneath her. SAM runs for the kitchen door.
INT. HOUSE — KITCHEN — NIGHT
SAM enters the kitchen and grabs the first tumbler he comes across, then back into the living room.
INT. HOUSE — LIVING ROOM — NIGHT
The knife still protrudes oddly in midair. SAM kneels down next to it and presses the tumbler against TATIANA’s side, catching her blood in it and acting sort of grossed out about the entire thing. Necessary evils, as they say.
SAM
I’m sorry.
TATIANA
As you should be.
TATIANA flickers back into visibility, this time as the grotesque, four-armed fairy. SAM checks her pulse, and she slaps his hand away. He crouches over her for a little longer, until she stops breathing and collapses into black dust as well. SAM reaches out as if to touch the dust, then thinks better of it and stands instead. He puts the tumbler on the table by the door, retrieves the gun from the front door and the knife from TATIANA, and goes out the back door.
EXT. FAIRY HOUSE — BACKYARD — NIGHT
SAM wipes the knife off in the grass outside, which is lit by a back light on the porch. He goes around to the storm cellar doors, shut and sealed, and starts hacking at the hinges with the knife. Being that the knife is made of iron, the wood curls away fairly quickly. Once the protection symbol has been dealt with, he can pull the doors off fairly quickly.
Inside the storm cellar, it has gone dark, and there are a bunch of frightened children down there now that there is no more illusion around to turn it into a fairy river.
SAM
Hello?
A LITTLE GIRL comes to the foot of the stairs. She has an even smaller TODDLER in tow of indeterminate gender.
LITTLE GIRL
What happened?
SAM
There were fairies keeping you down here.
The LITTLE GIRL’s face lights up in a smile.
LITTLE GIRL
I remember that!
SAM climbs down the stairs.
SAM
Yeah, but they were bad fairies.
INT. HOUSE — STORM CELLAR — NIGHT
The storm cellar is lit only by the light of the full moon, which means that SAM casts a looming shadow as he descends. When he gets to the bottom of the stairs, he stands aside to let the light through, which means that he can see, fairly well, the group of a dozen or so small children in the spacious storm cellar.
LITTLE GIRL
They weren’t bad fairies.
SAM
Yeah, they were. Come on, let’s get you guys out of here.
OTHER TODDLER IN BACK
(whining)
It’s dark.
SAM walks over to the OTHER TODDLER IN BACK and picks him up.
SAM
I know. Come on, there’s light outside.
With OTHER TODDLER in his arms, SAM leads the troop of small children out of the storm cellar and into the house.
INT. FAIRY HOUSE — LIVING ROOM — NIGHT
The flashing of police cars can be seen through the window, and there are several police officers standing in the doorway. SAM is standing and talking to a policewoman near the front door, with his back against the table to keep her from seeing the tumbler of blood.
SAM
I’m just passing through, honestly, and I got lost. I stopped here to ask for directions.
POLICEWOMAN
And you just happened to break into the storm cellar?
SAM
What — you think I kidnapped them? And then called the police on myself?
POLICEWOMAN
(in an even tone)
I’m not suggesting anything. I’m asking you to tell me how you found the children.
SAM
I saw a light on in the back. I figured I’d try the back door, maybe the doorbell was broken. And when I got there, I heard kids’ voices down in the storm cellar. I remembered hearing about it on the radio on the way down. It freaked me out, so I called down, and they said they were stuck down there.
POLICEWOMAN
All right. Thanks.
SAM
(desperately)
Look, my cousin’s in the hospital at Princeton Plainsboro, I just got the news and I’ve been driving for the past six hours. Do you think you could tell me how to get back to the road? It’s really important — they say he’s got tuberculosis or something like that.
POLICEWOMAN
Yes, of course. I’ll give you a call if we need anything else from you, okay?
SAM
Thanks.
SAM grabs the tumbler surreptitiously as he turns to leave, and hurries outside.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
INT. HOSPITAL — HOSPITAL ROOM — NIGHT
CHASE, CAMERON, and HOUSE are gathered near DEAN’s bed. DEAN is sitting up and watching them. FOREMAN arrives with a new IV bag, which he passes to CAMERON.
FOREMAN
I still don’t think this is a good idea.
CAMERON
His fever has gone down by point three degrees; at this rate, he’s going to fry, if he doesn’t drown first.
DEAN
I’m right here, you know.
CAMERON
Sorry.
DEAN
Do you think my eyeballs will pop?
CAMERON
What?
DEAN
Yeah, you know, like in movies, when things get cramped, people’s eyeballs … sploosh.
He makes exploding motions with his fingers in front of his eyes.
HOUSE
As cool as that would be, it’s unlikely to happen. Sorry.
DEAN
(tilting his head back)
Dammit. Sam, where are you?
CHASE
Sam?
DEAN
Shit. Sam’s my … uh … ex-girlfriend.
HOUSE
Of course it is. Ignore the delusional ramblings of the patient, let’s shove some more fluids into him.
SAM knocks on the glass. CHASE opens the door for him. SAM is clearly antsy, keeping one hand in his jacket pocket the entire time.
SAM
Hi. Can I talk to my brother for a moment? Alone?
CHASE
(glancing at the medication being given)
In a little while. We’re giving him a stronger course of treatment; he’s not responding to the current one.
SAM
No you — wait, he’ll be fine. Just give it a little longer, okay?
CHASE
We’ve given it all the time we can afford. We need to do something now, and the only thing we can do is increase the dosage.
SAM
I looked this stuff up, it’s not going to work. Just let me talk to him first, please.
CHASE
Why?
SAM
(starting to edge towards the hospital bed)
I, uh, I have something I need to tell him. It’s private. And urgent.
HOUSE
I’m sure it can wait. This is kind of urgent too.
SAM
No, really, please, you’re making a mistake —
He lunges towards DEAN, pulling his hand out of his pocket. His palm is covered in green blood that shines oddly in the bright hospital lights. DEAN reaches out towards him as CAMERON recoils, and CHASE grabs him by the arm.
CHASE
What the hell is that?
SAM grabs for DEAN’s hand and misses; FOREMAN takes his other side, and along with CHASE, starts to drag him backwards.
FOREMAN
I’m sorry, Mr. Hutton, but we really think you should go.
SAM pushes forwards; this time, he is able to grab DEAN by the hand and transfer some of the blood onto his hand as CHASE and FOREMAN force him backwards. DEAN looks at his hand in confusion; SAM puts his fingers to his mouth to indicate what DEAN is supposed to do — which he then does. SAM allows CHASE and FOREMAN to guide him out of the room.
END OF ACT FOUR.
EDIT: Okay, I'm done with this act. It is thirty-six pages long. HAHAHAHA WHAT IS THIS I DON'T EVEN.
ACT FOUR
INT. HOSPITAL — HOSPITAL ROOM — DAY
It is the following morning. SAM and HOUSE are walking around each other at the far end of the room from the bed. HOUSE is extremely irritated, shouting; SAM paces to keep him in full view, hands clenched into fists. DEAN is drifting in and out of consciousness, coughing again throughout the scene.
HOUSE
Now, I’m curious, how does ‘I’m seeing a blue three-eyed monster at the window’ not set off alarm bells in your head?
SAM
I —
HOUSE
Is this some kind of occultist thing? The mystic triclops, who brings good fortune to anyone who sees him!
(slapping himself on the forehead)
Oh, of course! Silly me, of course it’s not a hallucination, it’s an omen.
SAM
Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t think —
HOUSE
Apparently. Well, congratulations. Thanks to you, your brother has been running a fever for the past ten hours, and we’ve only just started to make a dent in it.
SAM
(frustrated, in a loud voice)
Will you please stop? I screwed up, okay? You don’t need to make me feel any more guilty than I already am!
HOUSE
Yeah, but I can. This is the sort of thing where when the night shift nurse comes in and asks if everything is okay, you don’t lie. It’s not a matter of jail time, it’s life and death.
SAM
But he’s going to be okay, right?
HOUSE, having worked off the greater part of his rage at the many idiots of the world, stops pacing, and lowers his voice back to normal, though irate, volume.
HOUSE
We don’t know. Fever means he’s not responding to the [drugs] we’re giving him. Or it could be a result of infection from the surgery. Or it could be a reaction to the blood transfusion. We don’t know.
SAM
So what are you going to do?
HOUSE
Keep up with the [drugs], search for infection, and wait to see what happens.
SAM
That’s it?
HOUSE
Well, we could perform an exorcism, if you think that would help.
SAM scowls. He unfolds, as though about to inform HOUSE that demonic possession doesn’t manifest like that, before remembering that saying that would just make him look like even more of a lunatic; so instead, he does an about-face and leans back against the windowsill instead, watching Dean. HOUSE walks over to the other side of the bed to loom over Dean for a moment. DEAN frowns in his sleep, opens his eyes, and attempts to say something to HOUSE.
DEAN
(slurred)
Goddamn fairies.
HOUSE
Hey hey, homosexuals are people just like the rest of us.
DEAN
Whatever, man.
(coughing)
Where’s Sam?
SAM
Over here.
DEAN
Sammy?
SAM
Yeah?
HOUSE
I’ll leave you to your no doubt touching and meaningful conversation. Tell the blue man I say hi.
He limps out of the room and walks down the hallway towards his office.
INT. HOSPITAL — OUTER OFFICE — DAY
HOUSE enters. The DUCKLINGS are seated around the table.
HOUSE
Castigation has been achieved.
CHASE
And the patient?
HOUSE
Hundred and four degree fever, no sign of change. Any bright ideas?
FOREMAN
We’re waiting for [lab results from cultures they took].
HOUSE
All of them?
FOREMAN
The labs can only take three at once … we each did the one we thought was most likely.
HOUSE
Well, go get some more ready. Check for the less likely ones.
CAMERON
We were just talking, and [suggestion regarding something that would bring down the fever in case the current antibiotics don’t work].
HOUSE
Don’t be stupid, if [that] was the solution he’d be out of here by now. [Do this new, better idea].
CAMERON makes a face as she, CHASE, and FOREMAN leave the room to go run tests. HOUSE walks past them into his own office.
INT. HOSPITAL — HOUSE’S OFFICE — DAY
HOUSE settles into the chair behind his desk, puts his feet up, and grabs the Ball of Mysterious Origins. He begins tossing it up and down whilst thinking, but is soon interrupted when CUDDY walks in and stands in front of his desk with what has been described as the Jewish Mother look on her face, and a manila envelope in her hand. HOUSE continues tossing the ball and ignores her.
CUDDY
House.
HOUSE
Present.
He puts down the ball and looks at her expectantly.
CUDDY
When were you going to tell me that you were treating a wanted felon?
HOUSE
(trying and failing to look innocent)
I am?
CUDDY continues to look at him.
HOUSE
Who was it this time?
CUDDY
Excuse me?
HOUSE
Which one of them ratted me out?
CUDDY
(shaking her head)
That's irrelevant.
HOUSE
It was Cameron, wasn't it.
CUDDY
Of course not, why would you think that?
HOUSE
Foreman. Damn him.
CUDDY
House, who did it is beside the point. I'm not going to tell you just so that you can punish them. The point is that you are withholding this sort of information, which the hospital needs to know.
HOUSE
Why? What difference does it make? I'm still going to want to keep him here until he's not going to keel over the minute he gets to the police station.
CUDDY
You could have told me that.
HOUSE
Would it have worked?
CUDDY doesn't answer. Her expression says 'No, you're right, but you're also doing illegal things, so it really shouldn't make a difference.'
HOUSE
Now what?
CUDDY
What's the patient's condition?
HOUSE
(sarcastically, poking fun at her without being serious)
Oh, so now you care about him. That's not hypocritical at all.
CUDDY rolls her eyes.
HOUSE
Less than twelve hours out of surgery, feverish and delusional. My team is working on it right now. I know what you're thinking, and no, he's not going to make it out of the hospital if you call the police now.
CUDDY appears to resign herself to this, but she's not going down without a fight.
CUDDY
I have no choice. It's my duty as Dean of Medicine to report this person to the police.
HOUSE
Report him? Please, we have no idea who this guy is. Hi, officer, I'd like to report this person. What's he done? Well, sir, he's given us so many different names, I don't even know who he is.
CUDDY
Dean Winchester.
HOUSE
What?
CUDDY
That’s his name.
She tosses the folder she's been holding onto his desk. HOUSE picks it up and flips it open in one hand. He raises his eyebrows.
HOUSE
Impressive work, Sherlock.
CUDDY
I had [explanation of how she delegated responsibilities to someone else to figure this out]. Last seen in [that town with the dead girl in the walls].
HOUSE
Neat. I still object to you taking my patient away to die, by the way.
CUDDY considers this.
CUDDY
How much longer do you need?
HOUSE
(checking his watch)
Thirty three minutes.
(pause)
A couple more days, at least. And that's assuming that we figure out what's killing him within the next hour, and that it works immediately. I'm just factoring in the whole 'stomach surgery' deal.
CUDDY reaches across the desk to take away the folder.
CUDDY
You have two days. After that, I’m calling the police.
HOUSE
And I will tell them, they cannot check a dying man out of this hospital.
CUDDY
(as she turns and walks out of the office)
Two and a half.
HOUSE snatches an important-looking sheet of paper off of his desk, crumples it into a ball, and aims playfully at the back of CUDDY’s head. However, he spends too much time aiming, and by the time it leaves his hand, it hits the glass door as it closes behind her. It would appear that this was his intention. He sits back and resumes tossing the BMO and thinking. After a moment, some stray thought catches his attention; he pauses, spins the chair around, and frowns at several old books on his bookshelves.
HOUSE
Huh.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
INT. MOTEL — SAM’S ROOM — DAY
The door handle rattles as someone outside works at the lock; when it gives, HOUSE enters the room. He looks around in obvious disgust at the walls papered with printouts and handwritten notes; at the beds that still haven’t been made since three days prior; at the windows with the shades drawn, which make the whole room dark except for where slivers of early afternoon light manage to make their way in. HOUSE hovers in the doorway to assess the situation and figure out where to begin. He decides on the desk, shuffling his way over to it. It’s mostly been cleared off since the last scene.
HOUSE ignores the papers taped to the walls and, in the absence of books, moves on to the far bed. He goes to the duffel bag at its foot, and starts rummaging through it. He comes up with clothing, bullets, a couple of clunky electromagnetic field detectors. It is as he is tossing those aside that he looks at where they have landed: on top of a very old book, entitled Natural History, Lore and Legend: being some few examples of quaint and by-gone beliefs, gathered in from divers authorities, ancient and mediaeval, of varying degrees of reliability. HOUSE picks it up and examines the edges, running his finger along the gap between binding and pages and looking at what it picks up.
HOUSE
Bingo.
With an effort, HOUSE gets up, leaning on the edge of the bed for support. It doesn’t work quite as well as he’d have hoped, because it’s a crappy mattress that bends underneath him so that his arm ends up buckling, and he lands on his elbow on the bed. It’s then that he takes notice of the discarded shirt lying on the bed — the one with a bit of blood on it from where Dean started coughing and ditched it to avoid further damage.
What is more interesting, though, is the tiny flecks of black on the edge of the same shirt, which are brought into sharp focus by the proximity of HOUSE’s face to the mattress. He gives up on hoisting himself up, and rolls over instead so that he is kneeling, and can examine the shirt properly. He sniffs it and gags, exaggeratedly. He pulls a very small plastic bag out of his pocket, along with tweezers, and picks out as much of the black as he can find — far less than a gram, just a couple of grains, but enough to be visible inside the baggie.
Having accomplished this, HOUSE makes a second attempt at getting up. This one is more successful than the first. He takes the baggie and the book, and looks around at the room again.
HOUSE
Yeesh.
INT. HOSPITAL — OUTER OFFICE — DAY
A little over an hour later, HOUSE, FOREMAN, CAMERON, and CHASE have regrouped.
FOREMAN
Nothing. All of the tests were negative.
CAMERON
We’ll go get more samples, and start them over again.
HOUSE
No need.
CHASE
What?
HOUSE
It occurred to me that people are idiots.
(His team exchanges glances; this is nothing new)
They’ll believe anything, and rather than look for facts to tell them what to believe, they’ll believe something, and then go find evidence to support it.
CHASE
I’m assuming you’re about to explain what we’ve been missing, and how you figured it out, right?
HOUSE
(ignoring CHASE)
Say that something you believe in is paranormal, where do you find your best evidence? Not in modern-day books; most normal people don’t believe in that stuff anymore, and anyone can put anything on the internet. If you believe that you’re going to be hunting ghosts, you go for the old ghost stories.
He walks over to the counter behind his chair and picks up the book he found in the motel room, showing it to the DUCKLINGS. It is wrapped and sealed in a plastic bag.
HOUSE
Exhibit A.
(holding the book at arm’s length to read the title with a flourish)
“Natural History, Lore and Legend: being some few examples of quaint and by-gone beliefs, gathered in from divers authorities, ancient and mediaeval, of varying degrees of reliability.” Date of publication, 1895. Date of infection with [toxic mold], sometime after that.
CAMERON
You think he might have inhaled mold while reading?
CHASE
We didn’t screen for it. It’s possible. It gets into the trachea; some goes into the patient’s lungs and inflames the lining; if enough got into the stomach, it could cause the bleed over time.
FOREMAN
That’d have to be some pretty acidic mold.
HOUSE
Hence the plastic bag. I like my lungs the way they are.
FOREMAN
Doesn’t explain the rash.
CHASE
Could be an allergic reaction.
CAMERON ponders this, unconvinced.
CHASE
Okay, so we treat that with [something to kill the mold].
FOREMAN
If it’s the mold.
CHASE
It’s the best we’ve got to go on.
HOUSE
No it’s not. There’s something else.
He leans back against the counter and waits.
CAMERON
… Are you going to tell us what it is?
HOUSE
(startling, with exaggerated effect)
Oh! Right. I don’t know.
CHASE
Excuse me?
HOUSE reaches behind him and pulls out the smaller baggie.
HOUSE
Found this on his clothing. Judging by the bloodstains, either he’d just committed a very small murder, or that was what he was wearing before he came to the hospital.
FOREMAN
Could be the brother’s.
HOUSE
Right. The guy with the life-threatening blood loss issue is definitely not the one in contact with foreign substances.
FOREMAN folds his arms and settles for looking pointedly at HOUSE without speaking. HOUSE tosses the bag onto the table in front of his team.
HOUSE
Go to the lab, figure out what this is and what makes it go away.
CHASE
How?
HOUSE
Isn’t there a ‘weird black stuff’ handbook around here somewhere? Start looking for matches.
CHASE
That could take days.
HOUSE
Then I guess you’d better get started.
CAMERON
Where are you going?
HOUSE
Lunch. I missed mine driving back from scenic Frenchtown.
HOUSE exits.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
INT. HOSPITAL — LAB ROOM — NIGHT
The clock on the wall reads 8:41pm. The team have been there on and off all day, running through different tests to figure out what this black stuff is. CAMERON is looking through a microscope, with slides piled up next to her; FOREMAN is in much the same attitude, though across the table; CHASE has temporarily abandoned his microscope and is leaning back in his chair, spinning around in it. He groans and stands.
CHASE
I’m going to get dinner. You guys want anything from the cafeteria?
CAMERON
Caesar salad and a milkshake.
FOREMAN
Not that.
CHASE
Scungili it is.
He exits. CAMERON and FOREMAN continue to work. CAMERON’s phone rings, and she picks it up.
CAMERON
Hello?
HOUSE (V.O.)
What do you have for me?
CAMERON rests her head on her hand. When she speaks, she sounds weary.
CAMERON
Nothing. Nothing even close to matching the stuff you found. Are you sure it’s even mold?
(INT. 221B — LIVING ROOM — NIGHT
HOUSE sits on his couch, with the phone to his ear and a movie on television paused.
HOUSE
I don’t know. What does it look like to you?)
CAMERON
Structurally, it looks like a fungus.
(INT. 221B — LIVING ROOM — NIGHT
HOUSE
Just not one you’ve ever seen before.)
CAMERON
Yeah.
HOUSE (V.O.)
That’s good news. Keep looking.
CAMERON
House, we’ve been here for nearly seven hours.
HOUSE (V.O.)
You’re getting paid overtime, right? Quit complaining. Let me know when you find something, and tell Chase to get his feet off the table before he contaminates something.
HOUSE hangs up. CAMERON lifts her head and stares at the phone. She looks across the table at FOREMAN, who sighs.
INT. WILSON’S HOUSE — LIVING ROOM — NIGHT
WILSON is sitting on the couch, watching television and eating Chinese takeout, when there is a knock on the door. He gets up and opens the door to find HOUSE standing outside.
WILSON
Hello?
HOUSE brushes past him to come inside. WILSON follows him.
WILSON
I’m assuming you have a reason for barging into my house at nine thirty at night?
HOUSE
I need to talk to you.
WILSON
Um, okay. Is this the ‘I’ve finally admitted that I have a drug problem’ talk, or the ‘I’m stuck on a case and I need something to jog a completely meaningless fact from my memory that will solve everything’ talk. Or! My personal favorite, the ‘your marriage is falling apart and I want to make sure you know that’ talk.
HOUSE and WILSON walk from the doorway to the living room as they talk, and sit down on the couch.= together.
HOUSE
That second one. We’ll pretend it’s the first one. It never works if I know what’s going to happen — I have to sneak up on myself. And I’m sick of your wife right now.
WILSON
Your tact is astounding. Don’t worry, she’s visiting her parents.
HOUSE
Of course she is.
WILSON
House.
HOUSE
Sorry. Wrong conversation. Out of curiosity, did she tell you not to call her while she’s there?
WILSON
House, stop it.
HOUSE
But did she?
WILSON
No, she didn’t. I got off the phone with her an hour ago.
HOUSE
I see. Any background noises?
WILSON
I thought we were having a heartfelt conversation about your Vicodin addiction.
HOUSE
No, no, this is much more interesting.
WILSON
I thought you weren’t interested in talking about Julie.
HOUSE
Wasn’t. See, the thing is, there are many, many other things we talk about more than we talk about your marriage. You could have easily used one of those, but you decided to use that as an example, so obviously that was a subconscious cry for help. And, like a good and loyal friend, I am here to listen to your woes.
WILSON
No — House, no, that’s not what I meant.
HOUSE
(talking over the tail end of his sentence)
Oh, come on, it’s obvious. There’s barely enough room in here to move around the gigantic elephant.
WILSON
The what?
HOUSE
The elephant in the room that we aren’t talking about, even though it’s clearly …
(he gets a faraway look on his face)
… there …
WILSON throws up his hands. HOUSE stands up and makes a beeline for the door, despite the fact that he has been there for less than five minutes.
WILSON
(calling to him on his way out)
Glad to be of service!
HOUSE stops at the door to grin back at him before he lets himself out.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
INT. HOSPITAL — HOSPITAL ROOM — NIGHT
SAM stands next to DEAN’s bed, arms folded, watching the screens which monitor heart rate, blood pressure, body temperature, etc. DEAN is lying on his back; he starts wheezing and taps SAM on the back to get his attention. SAM pulls him upright so that he can lean forward and cough properly.
DEAN
This is getting old.
SAM
Tomorrow night.
DEAN
(hoarsely)
There isn’t a giant dog on my feet, is there.
SAM
No. Just ignore it.
DEAN
Kinda hard.
He kicks the blankets up, as if to dispel the illusion.
SAM
I can promise you, there’s no way a dog got into this room without me seeing it.
DEAN sighs, and slides back down again. He shuts his eyes.
SAM moves away and starts pacing; as he reaches the end of the bed, he waves his hand around in the air over it, just to make sure that there really is nothing there. When he looks up, HOUSE is leaning against the doorway. He retracts his hand.
HOUSE
Most of my patients — actually, scratch that, all of my patients — are stupid.
SAM
… Okay?
HOUSE
So are their families. It’s just a matter of where they stand on the stupid scale. On the one end, there’s the man who was so convinced he was pregnant, he went into labor. On the other, there’s the guy who knowingly ate himself into morbid obesity, and just didn’t care. And that’s just the men.
SAM
And where do we fit in?
HOUSE
(walking into the room)
See, that’s what I’m trying to figure out. It would take a whole new level of stupidity to willfully ignore an obvious hallucination, and then lie to the nurses about it.
SAM
Okay, I get it. I screwed up.
HOUSE
On the other hand, everything else you’ve done so far has been only about a three on the scale, and that was more like a negative seven, which leads me to believe there was something else going on that you’re not telling us.
SAM looks around — at the wall past House, at Dean, at the ceiling, swinging his hands.
HOUSE
Does he frequently see things that aren’t there?
DEAN
(groggily)
What’s going on?
SAM
Nothing. Just … nothing.
DEAN goes back to sleep. SAM watches him for a moment.
SAM
It’s … not that he sees things that aren’t there. It’s more like … sometimes there are things there that not everyone can see, and people usually freak out when we tell them.
HOUSE
(clearly unconvinced)
I see.
SAM
Or they don’t believe us.
HOUSE
Not at all. But let’s pretend that I do.
SAM
Why?
HOUSE
Because my team have an unidentifiable black substance that we think may be screwing with your brother’s system, and they’ve spent eight hours today trying to find something that would match its description.
SAM
You think it may be supernatural?
HOUSE
No, I think that you think it is, and I want to hear your theories.
SAM frowns at him, puzzled. HOUSE makes impatient motions with his hand.
HOUSE
Come on, go with it! Aren’t conspiracy theorists supposed to jump on this sort of opportunity?
SAM
(disgruntled)
It’s … okay, you’ve heard of fairies, right?
HOUSE
Now I have.
SAM
They do this thing … they can make things from their own world look like food. I’m pretty sure that Mike ate some of their food, and that’s what’s causing the problem.
HOUSE
Interesting. How do you figure that?
SAM
(reluctantly, after a pregnant pause)
We really are doing research on paranormal phenomena. We went and talked to some fairies … guess they weren’t happy with the intrusion.
HOUSE
Ah, yes, those pesky fairies.
SAM
Hey, you asked.
HOUSE
Doesn’t mean I believe anything you’re saying.
SAM
(reaching into his bag)
You don’t believe me?
(pulling out his own bag of formerly-gingerbread crumbs and tossing it at HOUSE)
Here. This was a piece of gingerbread until I touched it with iron.
HOUSE looks down at the bag in his hand, and back up at SAM.
HOUSE
Interesting. Mind if I keep this?
SAM
Would it help?
HOUSE
(walking away)
Maybe … Gingerbread, huh?
INT. HOSPITAL — OUTER OFFICE — DAY
Early the next morning, CAMERON and FOREMAN are sitting at the table, preoccupied with their own thoughts. CHASE walks in with coffee and sits down.
CHASE
Where’s House?
CAMERON
Don’t know.
HOUSE enters. He’s changed into clean clothes, which means that he did end up going home at some point, but there are dark circles under his eyes and he looks tired. He seats himself as well.
CAMERON
You look terrible.
HOUSE
Gee, thanks. Just what every man wants to hear.
CAMERON
Are you okay?
HOUSE
Yesterday’s attempts to identify our mysterious moldy friend were less than successful, right?
The DUCKLINGS exchange weary looks.
HOUSE
Wrong!
This gets their attention.
HOUSE holds up the bag that SAM gave him the previous night.
HOUSE
Behold. I give you implements of fairy torture.
FOREMAN
Excuse me?
HOUSE
That’s what our friend Lucas thinks, anyway. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that fairies don’t exist. This, my friends, is aspergillus fumigates — chemically the same as the mold you so diligently spent precious hours of your lives analyzing yesterday.
CHASE
Huh.
CAMERON
How did you figure that out?
HOUSE
Simple. I asked Lucas to tell me about his brother’s hallucinations. Turns out, they’re hunting fairies, who gave him bad gingerbread.
He makes a face: ‘Who knew? Not me. Those crazy ghost hunters.’
FOREMAN
(exhausted)
What are you talking about?
HOUSE
I’m talking about psychological manipulation. It’s brilliant. Don’t make me explain it and ruin all the fun.
CHASE raises his eyebrows. CAMERON gets to her feet.
CAMERON
I’ll go get Mike started on ribavirin.
INT. HOSPITAL — HOSPITAL ROOM — DAY
SAM is sleeping in the chair when CAMERON gets to the room; DEAN is lying awake, scowling at the ceiling. CAMERON looks around, not sure who to address.
DEAN
What’s up, doc?
CAMERON
(smiling)
Hey, how are you feeling?
DEAN
I’m fine.
CAMERON
I’m a doctor. It’s my job to ask.
DEAN
… Like shit. I can’t breathe, I look terrible, and I keep thinking there are things in the room that aren’t there. And I got a bunch of doctors who don’t know what’s wrong with me.
CAMERON
Actually, that’s what I came to tell you. We think we know what’s causing your symptoms.
DEAN
Oh, yeah? Enlighten me.
CAMERON
It’s a mycotoxin found in mold. It’s usually found on wheat and rye … and we’re not sure how, but you managed to get some in your lungs. The solution is effective in most cases, although there is a significant chance that you’ll suffer from side effects for the rest of your life.
DEAN
Can you wake up …. Um … Lucas? He’s the smart one.
CAMERON
Sure.
CAMERON shakes SAM on the shoulder. He scrubs his face with his hands and takes a moment to wake up properly, looking nearly as terrible as House.
SAM
Oh, hi. Sorry. Is everything okay?
CAMERON
(smiling)
Yeah, we hope so. House thinks we’ve found the issue; we’re still waiting for an official diagnosis, but we’re going to start treatment now.
SAM
(clearly struggling to regain full consciousness)
Great. What’s the treatment?
CAMERON hefts an IV bag of a clear liquid.
CAMERON
It’s called ribavirin. It should fight the infection.
SAM
Should.
CAMERON
Mike’s symptoms didn’t present in the usual way, so we didn’t catch it as early as we normally would have. There’s a chance that he’ll suffer permanent lung damage.
SAM
Well, is there any way you can fix that?
CAMERON
We’ll see how things go. It could clear up fine; there have been … instances … where patients have recovered completely, with no side effects.
SAM
But they’re not frequent instances.
CAMERON
No, I’m sorry.
SAM
(bringing his hands up to his face, talking more to himself than CAMERON)
Okay. Okay, no, this will be okay.
(to CAMERON)
How long until you’ll know if this works?
CAMERON
We should start to see change in about six hours.
SAM
(swallowing visibly)
Okay. Go ahead.
CAMERON hooks up the IV to the stand, and attaches it.
CAMERON
Someone will be in to check on you in a little while, if you need anything.
INT. HOSPITAL — HOSPITAL ROOM — DAY
By the sun coming through the window, it is now several hours later, in the afternoon. SAM is sitting and tapping his feet impatiently. DEAN is watching him.
DEAN
Hey, guess what.
SAM
Huh?
DEAN
I can hear music.
SAM
There’s nothing here.
DEAN
I know. It’s one of those, what do you call it, those auditory things.
SAM
(in the manner of one slightly worried for his sanity)
Hallucinations?
DEAN
Yeah, one of those things.
He presses the heel of his palm to his forehead and shuts his eyes.
SAM
You’ll be fine soon.
(standing)
Listen, I’ll be back in a bit. I’m going to go find the stuff that they took from our room.
DEAN
Sure.
SAM exits.
INT. HOSPITAL — OUTER OFFICE — DAY
SAM approaches from the hallway. He looks in cautiously to make sure that there is no one there, or in the halls, before opening the door and going in. Once inside, he looks around, and settles on the counter with all of its drawers and cabinets above them. With several quick, nervous glances over his shoulder at the glass walls, he goes to the counter drawers and begins opening them, one after the other. None of them contain the IDs, just ordinary medical things. After looking in the cabinets and finding nothing, he moves on to HOUSE’s office.
INT. HOSPITAL — HOUSE’S OFFICE — DAY
HOUSE’s office has a bit more clutter, and the stakes are slightly higher if he gets caught here. A nurse walks past with a clipboard; he ducks behind the desk and hides there until he’s certain that she’s gone. From his position on the floor, he begins opening the drawers on the desk, and rifling through the contents. In the bottom drawer on the right, he discovers a thick manila envelope; when he looks inside, it contains the IDs. SAM shoves the envelope into his jacket, and sticks his head around the side of the desk. The hallway is empty; he stands and walks out of the office.
INT. HOSPITAL — HALLWAY — DAY
SAM makes it halfway down the corridor before he runs into CAMERON, nearly literally, as she heads for the OUTER OFFICE with CHASE.
SAM
Oh, sorry, sorry. Are you okay?
CAMERON
I’m fine. Were you looking for one of us?
SAM
(inspired)
Yeah. I was just wondering, do you have the results back? The things, that let you know whether it’s … the thing that you think it is. For my brother.
CHASE
(with a glance aside at CAMERON)
We were just heading back with that now. It’s definitely hypersensitivity pneumonitis.
SAM stares at him blankly.
CAMERON
That’s what we’re treating.
SAM
Oh! Right, right. Thanks.
CAMERON
Is that it?
SAM
Yeah. I just needed to leave the room for a few minutes, figured that was a good enough reason. I’ll go let Mike know.
He takes half a step forwards, and then remembers.
SAM
It’s normal, to not see any improvement yet, right?
CAMERON
Why, has something changed?
(looking at her clipboard)
The nurses didn’t say …
SAM
No, no … I mean, he’s hearing music now, but that’s nothing new, right?
CHASE
It’s probably nothing. Auditory hallucinations are actually more common than visual ones.
SAM
Okay.
SAM runs off down the hallway, hand tucked inside his jacket to hold onto the folder. CHASE and CAMERON look at each other, shrug, and move on.
INT. HOSPITAL — HOSPITAL ROOM — DAY
HOUSE is walking by, and glances in. He does a double-take, stops, and opens the door.
HOUSE
Where did the other one go?
DEAN
(muzzily)
I made him go home. He was starting to smell.
He continues to gaze in HOUSE’s direction, half confused frown, half glare, for an uncomfortable length of time. HOUSE blinks.
HOUSE
Okay. Good to know these things.
DEAN
Your cafeteria is crap, by the way.
HOUSE
You’re not supposed to be eating from it.
DEAN shrugs.
HOUSE ducks out of the room and continues on his way.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
INT. MOTEL — ROOM — NIGHT
The room is dark, lit only by one of the bedside lamps. SAM rattles around the room: pulling all of the papers off the walls, digging into the drawers to find things. He fiddles around with the same drawer where CHASE found the bag of that pepper stuff, trying to find it before remembering that it is now at the hospital. Oh well, it’s not like it would have done much good anyway. He finishes clearing out the room, and shuts the door behind him.
INT. IMPALA — NIGHT
SAM drives to the fairies’ house. His clothing is inside-out, he has his iron-bullet gun, and the sum total of their possessions in the back seat of the car. In the passenger seat is the envelope from House’s desk, and a knife with a dark blade.
EXT. HOUSE — PORCH — NIGHT
SAM knocks on the front door. The OLD WOMAN opens it just before he would have gotten impatient. She seems a little startled to find him there.
OLD WOMAN
Hello. What can I do for you, young man?
SAM
I know what you are, and I know what you did to my brother.
OLD WOMAN
(calling back into the house)
Oberon, it’s back.
SAM attempts to get a look inside the house. A moment later, OBERON appears behind the OLD WOMAN. He smiles thinly at SAM.
OBERON
Send it away, Tatiana.
SAM
I know what you did to Dean. Now tell me how to fix it.
TATIANA
Doctors can take care of that sort of thing, my dear.
SAM
A bruise in the shape of a protection symbol? Come on.
TATIANA smiles.
OBERON
Greedy little human. I like them better than the polite ones.
TATIANA
(affecting a high-pitched, saccharine voice)
Would you like a cookie, my dear? I just finished baking today.
OBERON
(in a similar tone)
Don’t worry, I’m the tooth fairy. Don’t tell your parents.
TATIANA
Every time, it works.
SAM
Not on me.
He pulls the gun out on them.
CUT TO:
INT. HOSPITAL — HOSPITAL ROOM — NIGHT
HOUSE and the DUCKLINGS are gathered in the corner of the room, arguing amongst themselves.
CAMERON
I don’t understand. The tests were positive; this should be having an effect.
FOREMAN
Maybe we didn’t catch it soon enough.
CHASE
We could try upping the dosage, see if that makes any difference.
HOUSE
One of you explain why that’s not a good idea.
FOREMAN
Increased dosage could lead to increased risk of thrombocytopenia, on top of a tendency to spontaneously hemorrhage.
CHASE
We can’t just do nothing.
CAMERON
We can give it a little more time. It could just be a particularly resistant form.
FOREMAN
In which case upping the dosage probably wouldn’t change anything anyway.
HOUSE lowers his head and stares at DEAN.
HOUSE
Give it another two hours. If we don’t have anything by then, increase the dosage.
CUT TO:
EXT. HOUSE — PORCH — NIGHT
No time has passed since the last cut. SAM has the gun drawn on TATIANA and OBERON. OBERON makes sure to put TATIANA in front of him, hands on her shoulders. TATIANA tilts her head, a few degrees too far to the side to be natural-looking.
TATIANA
Put that down.
SAM
Nope.
TATIANA
We’re not unreasonable, contrary to what your type think of us. We’re willing to negotiate.
SAM
So there’s a way to stop the disease.
TATIANA
There’s a way to improve the possibility of recovery.
SAM
How?
TATIANA
(smiling)
Fairy blood.
SAM
(pausing to think about it)
What do you want?
TATIANA
(spreading her hands)
To be left alone. I can give you the means to help your kin, and you can leave the children with us.
SAM
(hesitating a moment before answering)
What do you want with them?
TATIANA leans back to make eye contact with OBERON, as though engaged in a silent conversation; OBERON responds.
OBERON
An offering, for the Unseelie Queen.
TATIANA
Back taxes, if you will. She’s very fond of children.
OBERON
(grinning)
Especially in duck sauce.
SAM
No. No, sorry. I need you to let them go.
OBERON
Can’t do that.
SAM squints, and shoots OBERON — what’s visible of him behind TATIANA. Instead of collapsing, OBERON turns into a pile of ashes on the stoop behind TATIANA. She jumps forward with agility unusual in someone of her age. SAM aims at her next.
TATIANA
Now you’ve just made me angry.
SAM
[Give me what I want or you’re next.]
TATIANA
Drop that. You can’t use it on me anyway.
SAM keeps one hand on the gun while he reaches into his belt with the other and retrieves the knife instead. TATIANA turns into an even more wrinkled, decrepit creature with an extra set of arms, rags instead of clothing, and a set of fangs that would put a saber-toothed tiger to shame. The night is already dark, but it becomes clear that TATIANA is doing more than just transforming herself, as the surroundings start to resemble Starry Night with screaming faces hidden in the brush strokes. The atmosphere becomes dense and claustrophobic. SAM whirls around, trying to figure out what is going on with the porch; when he turns back to the front door, TATIANA is no longer there. She becomes just one more of the faces in the air.
SAM continues to turn around in circles like it will help, backing up until he can press himself against the wall in order to defend himself properly. TATIANA cackles at him with the voice of an old woman, but doesn’t actually make any moves to attack. This is puzzling to SAM, up until the point when one of her bony arms lashes out from seemingly nowhere, and her fingers wrap around his left arm in a death grip. SAM slashes at the arm; she moves out of the way, and thus avoids being stabbed. He kicks out in the same direction as the arm came from, ducks inside the house, and slams the door shut behind him. The weirdness in the air and the screaming faces stop, and the house is eerily silent.
INT. HOUSE — LIVING ROOM — NIGHT
SAM has his back to the wall, edging from the door down the short hall to the kitchen, looking around frantically for any sign of TATIANA. Silence, and then the front window opens. SAM directs his attention and his knife towards it immediately, which makes it all the more startling when TATIANA in old woman form appears in the kitchen doorway, looking small and feeble. SAM looks between her and the window, confused.
TATIANA holds out a plate of gingerbread.
TATIANA
Cookie?
This distracts SAM just long enough for the invisible TATIANA who came in through the window, to grab him and toss him to the ground. It knocks the wind out of him, but SAM doesn’t lose his grip on his knife. He rolls over onto his back and looks towards the kitchen door. Old woman TATIANA has vanished. SAM scrambles back towards the wall and gets to his feet once he has it at his back. There is a flicker of movement at the other end of the living room; he moves towards that, hears something behind him, and spins around, lunging forwards with his arm bent.
He connects with invisible TATIANA; she doesn’t become visible, but the evidence is clear that she is indeed falling backwards and tripping over the throw carpet. SAM presses his advantage and throws himself at the air where it would appear that she went. He keeps the knife out of it. TATIANA falls backwards and into the small, high table near the door, and falls to the ground with an invisible thump. SAM holds the knife in front of him and points it at where she would have fallen.
SAM
Stop. You lose.
TATIANA becomes visible again, again as a fragile old woman with filmy eyes. She looks pathetic.
TATIANA
I lose.
SAM
I don’t want to hurt you, but I need your blood, and I need you to let those kids go.
TATIANA
(feebly)
You can’t — I can’t. The queen will kill me.
SAM
Not my problem.
He hesitates in spite of his words. TATIANA seizes the opportunity and lunges forward with a feral grin, pushing him out of the way with fairy strength rather than old woman strength. SAM is caught off guard, but he keeps his head and rolls with it, getting to his feet again and stabbing TATIANA as she fades into invisibility. The knife remains visible from the point at which it is no longer in her side, which looks extremely strange but allows SAM to track her progress.
TATIANA collapses onto the ground. Green blood from the knife wound pours out onto the ground beneath her. SAM runs for the kitchen door.
INT. HOUSE — KITCHEN — NIGHT
SAM enters the kitchen and grabs the first tumbler he comes across, then back into the living room.
INT. HOUSE — LIVING ROOM — NIGHT
The knife still protrudes oddly in midair. SAM kneels down next to it and presses the tumbler against TATIANA’s side, catching her blood in it and acting sort of grossed out about the entire thing. Necessary evils, as they say.
SAM
I’m sorry.
TATIANA
As you should be.
TATIANA flickers back into visibility, this time as the grotesque, four-armed fairy. SAM checks her pulse, and she slaps his hand away. He crouches over her for a little longer, until she stops breathing and collapses into black dust as well. SAM reaches out as if to touch the dust, then thinks better of it and stands instead. He puts the tumbler on the table by the door, retrieves the gun from the front door and the knife from TATIANA, and goes out the back door.
EXT. FAIRY HOUSE — BACKYARD — NIGHT
SAM wipes the knife off in the grass outside, which is lit by a back light on the porch. He goes around to the storm cellar doors, shut and sealed, and starts hacking at the hinges with the knife. Being that the knife is made of iron, the wood curls away fairly quickly. Once the protection symbol has been dealt with, he can pull the doors off fairly quickly.
Inside the storm cellar, it has gone dark, and there are a bunch of frightened children down there now that there is no more illusion around to turn it into a fairy river.
SAM
Hello?
A LITTLE GIRL comes to the foot of the stairs. She has an even smaller TODDLER in tow of indeterminate gender.
LITTLE GIRL
What happened?
SAM
There were fairies keeping you down here.
The LITTLE GIRL’s face lights up in a smile.
LITTLE GIRL
I remember that!
SAM climbs down the stairs.
SAM
Yeah, but they were bad fairies.
INT. HOUSE — STORM CELLAR — NIGHT
The storm cellar is lit only by the light of the full moon, which means that SAM casts a looming shadow as he descends. When he gets to the bottom of the stairs, he stands aside to let the light through, which means that he can see, fairly well, the group of a dozen or so small children in the spacious storm cellar.
LITTLE GIRL
They weren’t bad fairies.
SAM
Yeah, they were. Come on, let’s get you guys out of here.
OTHER TODDLER IN BACK
(whining)
It’s dark.
SAM walks over to the OTHER TODDLER IN BACK and picks him up.
SAM
I know. Come on, there’s light outside.
With OTHER TODDLER in his arms, SAM leads the troop of small children out of the storm cellar and into the house.
INT. FAIRY HOUSE — LIVING ROOM — NIGHT
The flashing of police cars can be seen through the window, and there are several police officers standing in the doorway. SAM is standing and talking to a policewoman near the front door, with his back against the table to keep her from seeing the tumbler of blood.
SAM
I’m just passing through, honestly, and I got lost. I stopped here to ask for directions.
POLICEWOMAN
And you just happened to break into the storm cellar?
SAM
What — you think I kidnapped them? And then called the police on myself?
POLICEWOMAN
(in an even tone)
I’m not suggesting anything. I’m asking you to tell me how you found the children.
SAM
I saw a light on in the back. I figured I’d try the back door, maybe the doorbell was broken. And when I got there, I heard kids’ voices down in the storm cellar. I remembered hearing about it on the radio on the way down. It freaked me out, so I called down, and they said they were stuck down there.
POLICEWOMAN
All right. Thanks.
SAM
(desperately)
Look, my cousin’s in the hospital at Princeton Plainsboro, I just got the news and I’ve been driving for the past six hours. Do you think you could tell me how to get back to the road? It’s really important — they say he’s got tuberculosis or something like that.
POLICEWOMAN
Yes, of course. I’ll give you a call if we need anything else from you, okay?
SAM
Thanks.
SAM grabs the tumbler surreptitiously as he turns to leave, and hurries outside.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN:
INT. HOSPITAL — HOSPITAL ROOM — NIGHT
CHASE, CAMERON, and HOUSE are gathered near DEAN’s bed. DEAN is sitting up and watching them. FOREMAN arrives with a new IV bag, which he passes to CAMERON.
FOREMAN
I still don’t think this is a good idea.
CAMERON
His fever has gone down by point three degrees; at this rate, he’s going to fry, if he doesn’t drown first.
DEAN
I’m right here, you know.
CAMERON
Sorry.
DEAN
Do you think my eyeballs will pop?
CAMERON
What?
DEAN
Yeah, you know, like in movies, when things get cramped, people’s eyeballs … sploosh.
He makes exploding motions with his fingers in front of his eyes.
HOUSE
As cool as that would be, it’s unlikely to happen. Sorry.
DEAN
(tilting his head back)
Dammit. Sam, where are you?
CHASE
Sam?
DEAN
Shit. Sam’s my … uh … ex-girlfriend.
HOUSE
Of course it is. Ignore the delusional ramblings of the patient, let’s shove some more fluids into him.
SAM knocks on the glass. CHASE opens the door for him. SAM is clearly antsy, keeping one hand in his jacket pocket the entire time.
SAM
Hi. Can I talk to my brother for a moment? Alone?
CHASE
(glancing at the medication being given)
In a little while. We’re giving him a stronger course of treatment; he’s not responding to the current one.
SAM
No you — wait, he’ll be fine. Just give it a little longer, okay?
CHASE
We’ve given it all the time we can afford. We need to do something now, and the only thing we can do is increase the dosage.
SAM
I looked this stuff up, it’s not going to work. Just let me talk to him first, please.
CHASE
Why?
SAM
(starting to edge towards the hospital bed)
I, uh, I have something I need to tell him. It’s private. And urgent.
HOUSE
I’m sure it can wait. This is kind of urgent too.
SAM
No, really, please, you’re making a mistake —
He lunges towards DEAN, pulling his hand out of his pocket. His palm is covered in green blood that shines oddly in the bright hospital lights. DEAN reaches out towards him as CAMERON recoils, and CHASE grabs him by the arm.
CHASE
What the hell is that?
SAM grabs for DEAN’s hand and misses; FOREMAN takes his other side, and along with CHASE, starts to drag him backwards.
FOREMAN
I’m sorry, Mr. Hutton, but we really think you should go.
SAM pushes forwards; this time, he is able to grab DEAN by the hand and transfer some of the blood onto his hand as CHASE and FOREMAN force him backwards. DEAN looks at his hand in confusion; SAM puts his fingers to his mouth to indicate what DEAN is supposed to do — which he then does. SAM allows CHASE and FOREMAN to guide him out of the room.
END OF ACT FOUR.
