House and his new wardrobe sulk in his office. Wilson stops by and tells him that Richard is on his way out and Wilson's waiting for House to run after him with a syringe full of cure-all cortisol. But House says Cuddy was right to say no. He did all this because he just wanted to solve a puzzle after all.
Cuddy watches Arlene, the son, and a cortisol-free Richard go. They get all the way to the elevators before Cuddy tells them to hold up. She says that she forgot something, whips out a syringe, and injects Richard with cortisol. "It's to fight infection," she lies. She flashes a light into Richard's eyes. There's no response. The group starts to leave again, with Cuddy turning around and looking very sad, indeed. House has finally been wrong about something. It's like watching Santa Claus die. After having sex with one of his elves. While on crack. Very disillusioning, is what I'm saying.
But wait! It turns out that the only thing House was wrong about was being wrong! Suddenly, Richard springs to life. He moves his hand and unfastens the seatbelt his chair has been fitted with, all the better to strip away his dignity, and stands up in his chair. Sort of. I mean, it's not easy when you haven't actually moved in eight years and just had tendon surgery. In fact, some would say it's impossible. Maybe Cuddy mixed some ketamine in with that cortisol. But nevermind. Richard soon has the support of his wife, who runs up to embrace him and be very happy. His son just stares. Richard smiles. Tears spring to Cuddy's eyes. The son walks up and his dad hugs him. It's so sappy and doesn't really make sense and it might have been a more fitting ending if House actually was wrong this one time. And yet, you'd be made of stone not to pull a Cuddy and weep silently during it. Arlene thanks the hell out of Cuddy, who manages to look both thrilled for the family and kinda pissed that House outsmarted her again.
While House paces miserably in his office, Cuddy tells Wilson what happened with Richard and then starts to go tell House. But, shockingly, Wilson tells her not to -- House got lucky here, that's all. If I were Wilson, I wouldn't want people knowing about how one of my cancer patients has been unnecessarily unable to move or speak for eight years because I wrote him off as a brain-damaged lump either. I think Wilson's an even crappier doctor than he is a friend. "Telling him 'no' is a good thing," Wilson says. House isn't a dog, Wilson. Shut up, Wilson. "Just because he was right doesn't mean he wasn't wrong," Wilson says. Except that House is always right and he's been doing this kind of thing for years and this is the first time Wilson has had a problem with it. Again, it's also the first time House's diagnosis has made Wilson look like a really shitty doctor. But I'm sure that's a coincidence.