House slowed his pace even more once they were walking, to stall for time and so the nurse would walk on ahead so they'd have a last few minutes of privacy. He thought over Cuddy's question. Yeah, there was something he'd like her - or someone - to bring in and that was alcohol. But he knew that would not only not fly with the hospital and would land him in isolation, it wouldn't fly with Cuddy. Wilson he'd perhaps be able to coax into bringing him some. But if Cuddy found out...

"Music," he said, meaning his ipod. "Gameboy." He hadn't thought to pack those at the time. "Maybe some more clothes. Having to wash everything every few days is annoying."

He'd be fine not washing everything every few days, to wear his clothes and keep wearing them until they badly needed to be washed. The nurses never let him get away with things like that, however. They all knew that part of the reason he was in the psych hospital was because of drug addiction issues, despite not having taken any Vicodin in months apart from that one time. They therefore treated him with little sympathy and a lot of 'tough love', forcing him to have order and structure in his every day life, right down to making his bed every morning.

"Also, washing powder. I hate the stuff they have here. Toothpaste. Soap." He glanced at Cuddy, then looked away across at the grounds. "Maybe a couple of pictures of when we were in Europe. The ultrasound picture on my fridge."