Cuddy let out a quiet 'harumph' when House pointed out the troll on the grounds. He was hardly a fan of nurses under the best of circumstances. He probably hated being under their control rather than the other way around. Cuddy felt genuinely sorry for them. Being a psych nurse wasn't easy; being House's nurse had to be a major pain in the ass.

After taking a seat on the bench, Cuddy put her hand on House's back as he leaned forward. She leaned against the back of the bench, leaving as much room for Junior as possible, and rubbed her hand lightly over his back. Maintaining a physical connection wasn't necessarily for his benefit, although if it helped, all the better. She did it for herself. She missed him, and with him locked up here for an undetermined amount of time, she felt a deep need to get as much closeness as she could.

"Oh, come on," she teased lightly. "Someone asking after your penis is your idea of a good time." She gave him a little pat on the back. "Just as long as the doctor's not asking for a demonstration of your erectile function."

Wilson let out a snort of amusement but he didn't let the teasing deflect him. He didn't know everything behind House's decision to commit himself but he knew it had to be pretty serious for his friend to even consider the option. And since Wilson was the kind of person who needed to assure himself that someone he cared about was getting what he needed--in case Wilson needed to step in and save the day--he wanted to know how House's treatment was going.

"So they've got you pretty well loaded up on meds," he said. "How much talk therapy are you getting? I assume you've got group sessions every day...?"