Title: Deus ex Machina
Rating: PG
Word Count: 563
Prompt: psych_30 #20 Learned Helplessness
Author's Note: Table with links to other completed prompts can be found here.

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Reaching out with his cane, pressing the up button of the elevator with the ferrule, House glances over his shoulder to catch sight of a gaggle of med students start up the stairwell. He watches with unrestrained envy as some of them take the stairs two at a time, the ones in high heels quickening their step to keep up with their peers. It isn't so much their youth but their wholly functional legs House finds himself envying as he tosses his cane in the air, snapping his hand out to wrap his fingers just below the handle.

The elevator still hasn't arrived yet, and House really needs to get up to his office before Cuddy tracks him down, demanding he fulfill his clinic duty. He looks at the glowing numbers once more before placing his cane back on the ground and going over to the stairs. He studies the steps for a moment, considering the physics and physiology of climbing stairs. House starts with his left foot, bringing his cane up with it, and shifts all of his weight away from his right leg to bring it up the step with the rest of his body.

He tries the same thing for the next step, which also went well, but the pain was starting to increase. House can feel beads of sweat forming on his forehead as he tries for a third, free hand subconsciously going in his pocket, seeking comfort from the bottle of Vicodin that's there. On the fourth step, the pain seems to instantaneously double, causing House to instinctively put all his weight on the cane, and he almost falls over from not having placed the rubber tip of the cane fully on the step. His left arm shoots out, grabbing the handrail firmly until he regains his balance.

House straightens up, noticing how many stairs he has left until the first landing, and that isn't even at the next floor yet. I can't do it, he thinks as he turns around, set on going back to the elevator. He turns just in time to watch the elevator doors open with a ding, and he's only two steps closer when they shut again, the car going in the direction of whatever floor called it. Figures, House thinks as he goes back in his pocket, pulling out and popping the cap to the bottle in the same motion, knocking two Vicodin in his mouth and easily dry swallowing them.

Two nurses pass him when he gets back to the floor, clutching clipboards to their chests as they move single file to get around House. He watches as their eyes glance over his cane, sending sympathetic glimpses in his direction. They disappear around the corner, and House leans against the wall, taking a deep breath as he waits for the Vicodin to kick in. He returns to his spot in front of the elevators, wincing with each step. House adjusts his grip on the handle of his cane to get as much weight off his leg as possible. When he stops at the elevator, House reaches out with his cane, pressing the up button with the ferrule, and looks back towards the stairwell, slowly shaking his head and letting out a sigh. House massages his thigh until the elevator arrives with a ding, limping in, and riding up to his floor.