[House's sleep is as fitful as ever, unfortunately. It's also very light, which means the rustling is like nails on a chalkboard. The doctor opens his eyes and stares up at the ceiling from where he's curled up on the blood-stained mattress. He looks over at the corner of the room that Will's taken up, and rolls onto his side to call quietly to the other man.]
You wake me up, you better have enough for the class of whatever it is you're eating.
[action]
You wake me up, you better have enough for the class of whatever it is you're eating.