House, Interrupted (Lokiswoman)

[Nene]

Closed for Lokiswoman
-----

Late on a cold, cloudy Thursday afternoon, Greg House, M.D. and his team had taken on a young patient, a precious little baby girl no older than five by the name of Katie Wills, with a sweet little smile that could break through the cloudiest skies and break the resolve of even the grumpiest of people, including one Greg House.

House, though he hadn't admitted it to anyone, had loved talking to this little girl, who would have a new story to tell him whenever he'd gone to look in on her, to gather more information on her symptoms. House rarely paid visits to his patients and he would typically be incredibly short with them, but there would be something special that House had seen in this sweet little baby, something that made him stick around.

There would be one thing that had House troubled with this young patient. He hadn't a clue what was wrong with her. He was too slow. The labs, the imaging, ECG, EEG, urinalysis, ultrasounds, all of that came back clean, and House hadn't anything to go on. This little girl should be happy, healthy, and out there playing in the rain, jumping in puddles, but instead, five year old Katie Wills would be in a hospital bed, worsening by the hour.

That happy, bright smile had gotten replaced with irritable crying, labored breathing and hallucinations, and there would be nothing that House could do to stop it if he hadn't known what she had. House hadn't missed anything, he'd looked over all of those reports ten times each, and he hadn't found any abnormalities; he'd sent the labs back to be validated and he'd gotten the same response, every time.

He hadn't considered the possibility at all that the little girl that he'd taken on as his patient had an advanced case of rabies. The father of the little girl had failed to tell her doctor that his daughter had contact with the saliva of a rabid stray dog. The man hadn't thought it relevant to her current condition as the contact happened over a month ago, though that information could've been a total game changer, but now, it would be too late.

House hadn't left his office all evening, and he'd taken that time, bouncing that red and gray ball off of the walls and other surfaces in thought, going over all of the known symptoms that Katie had. Fatigue, muscle aches, fever, loss of appetite, nausea, he'd wanted to call it the flu, but this was something more and he'd known better than to brush that off.

Four hours had passed and House would be totally out cold, with his head propped up with one of his hands, his cane on the floor; he'd be startled awake when a code would be called on his little patient well after the time that he would've left his office for the night.

Katie couldn't breathe, and she'd lost the ability to swallow. House took one look at his pager and he frowned, and he hadn't wasted any time, taking hold on his cane and moving as fast as his leg would allow, down the long winding hallway toward his little patient's room, where his team that still stuck around this night did all that they could to intubate her. Katie's little body convulsed violently, and the convulsion came to an end as her little heart stopped and the heart beat on the monitor flatlined.

House limped across the room, shoving his way in between Cameron and Chase, and he'd immediately noticed the saliva caking the little girl's chin and lips, with that telltale 'foaming at the mouth' that would be present in unvaccinated humans that would be exposed to rabies. "We need a crash cart in here!" he shouted over his shoulder and he went to work, rolling up his sleeves and starting CPR.

The crash cart came, but with the AED they could not jump start Katie's heart, and after five minutes, House still hadn't quit. He had to bring back this innocent little girl, he had to, he knew what she had and it could be cured.

After seven minutes, then ten, with no oxygen to the brain, Katie would be gone, and House stepped back, an unreadable look in those worn out blue eyes. It would be time to call it. "... Time of death, 7:48pm." he stood there rigidly, staring numbly at his deceased little patient. He wasn't quick enough to figure it out, not this time. Rabies in humans would be so rare but he would be the master of diagnosing rare conditions; he hadn't even considered rabies.

House had wanted to go home, though there would be additional steps he had to take before he could leave this place. He wouldn't be able to get to sleep tonight and no doubt he'd have to explain himself and what happened to the baby with rabies to Cuddy in the morning as well. Without a word, House grabbed his cane and limped out of the deceased patient's room, and went down the hall to his office.

Normally House could take a patient's death well and shove down all of these emotions having to do with patient deaths but this one had stabbed him in the heart and he couldn't stop himself from tearing up as he limped with his cane to his office. The tears actually hurt his eyes as his eyes were so dry and tired. He'd just wanted to get that paperwork in order and get the hell out of here and go home, to have some time to think without his team bothering him.

[LadyLoki]

One Dr. James Wilson, the Head of the Oncology department, had had a busy day. From patient to patient, he’d had nearly no time to just sit in his office and have a damn cup of coffee. From the brief conversation he’d had with Chase and Cameron, Wilson had heard about the little girl that had been admitted to the hospital.

And she’d only gotten worse. From the few interactions he’d had with House over the course of the day, the little girl’s tests were clean and nothing was showing up as abnormal. Sometimes cases were just like this. You did everything you could, but nothing worked. Unfortunately, this was one of those times. From just walking by the girl’s room before she coded, Wilson could tell this was going to hit House hard.

The man never spent any time with his patients, much preferring to be on his own or come pester Wilson himself. The fact he actually willingly talked to Katie Wills was something Wilson had never seen before, and when the little girl died, he dreaded having to face one of his oldest friends. House normally internalized all the negative feelings that came with a patient’s death, they all did. You had to, or the job would consume them.

This one though, this would be different. Wilson had been walking down the hall to his office when he’d passed Cameron and Foreman. Their faces said everything. They had tried everything, but in the end it had been too late. It was getting dark outside, and everyone was packing up to head on home. Wilson was one of them, not that he really had anything to head on home to. He grabbed his briefcase, before making sure to stop by House’s office and check on the man.

House may have been one of the most irritating individuals to have ever crossed his path, but Wilson for whatever reason, was incredibly fond of him. He couldn’t leave House on his own, not after a case like this. As much as House’s team said he didn’t care for other people, Wilson knew it was more the man had barriers so high he just couldn’t let people in, including his team. He sighed, before knocking on the office door and pressing in.

The sight actually shocked him. It was faint, but Wilson could see that House had tears in his eyes. He cleared his throat, stepping forward with a sigh. “You know you did everything you could.” Wilson said quietly, setting his briefcase down on the floor and standing in front of House’s desk. “There’s no way you could have known she had rabies. Nobody could have.”

Chances are, House wouldn’t listen to him. He never did. Wilson sighed, before reaching over and resting a hand on the man’s shoulder. “Go home and get some sleep, House. The paperwork will be here in the morning.” Wilson advised, and with a final squeeze took his own leave.

In the upcoming week and a half, it only got worse. Wilson had been the first to notice. It was only small things at first, but it was getting more and more apparent. House’s team had a patient, one that was actually interesting as far as House would describe it. Normally, the man would be all over something like this. House should be coming up with theories and diagnoses, and driving his team up the wall with disparaging comments about their skills as doctors. He was doing absolutely none of these things.

The team was floundering, completely lost without their captain at the wheel. And said captain was absolutely nowhere to be found. House hadn’t been the same since the little girl had died, and Wilson was starting to get worried. It had gotten to the point House’s team was starting to worry. Cameron had noticed soon after Wilson had, but the disbelief from Chase and Foreman was enough to stop her from mentioning it.

As the days dragged on though, the other two doctors realized that something was definitely up. Cameron had finally gone to Wilson to recruit his help in trying to get House to snap out of it. They needed him, and so did their patient.

Cue Wilson having to hunt for his best friend all over the damn hospital. He finally found House in the MRI room with no reason for being here. House was looking at charts, and Wilson raised a brow. “I didn’t know you ordered an MRI for your patient.” He commented, leaning against the doorframe. “Since you haven’t even seen them.” Wilson added, studying his friend intently.

House looked terrible. Disheveled, and from the way he was holding himself, his leg must have been hurting pretty bad. “Am I supposed to assume that’s your brain on that scan?” Wilson asked, brows creasing. He was blocking House’s only method of escape, so this conversation was happening, here and now.

“Your team needs you House. That man is going to die without you.” He said, as kindly as he could. “I know you’re upset from what happened with the little girl but…you have to move on.”

[Nene]

The old doctor couldn't take standing close to the patient he'd lost and he got out of there, quickly. The hallway leading to his office was completely desolate at this time in the evening, to House's relief, and all House could hear would be the noise of the tip of his cane tapping the floor with his steps. House went into his darkened office and closed the door, and he took care to pull the blinds closed, covering all of those tall windows that gave him a look out to the hall and gave nosy passerbys the ability to look in on him.

House limped carefully through the darkness toward his desk and he lowered himself to sit. He sat there for upward of five minutes in total darkness, steadying his breathing to calm himself some before he would start to write his report. He switched on the lamp that sat atop his desk and he opened one of those old cabinets to take out the first half of those necessary documents for reporting a patient's death and he tossed them onto the desk by the lamp.

With a pen in one hand, and his head in the other, House stared down at the paperwork and tapped the pen on the desk. He couldn't see anything through the tears and he had to breathe and calm down. House let out a lengthy, frustrated sigh. He was angry, angry at himself, angry at that father that hadn't told him anything about his daughter coming in contact with a rabid animal. He couldn't save one precious, sweet little girl, she didn't deserve to die and House couldn't get through the darkness that had started to cloud that brilliant mind of his. "I... should've known." he whispered and in that moment, his long time friend, Dr. James Wilson came into his darkened office.

House attempted to blink those tears away, not wanting anyone, not even Wilson to look at him when he'd gotten so torn up over a case. He felt like he couldn't breathe, he couldn't talk without his voice wavering and all he could do was look to his friend, and act like he'd listened to him. He hadn't any witty comments, nothing to say that would break the worry that he'd caused Wilson.

House had at least taken Wilson's advice and had gone on home, leaving the unfinished paperwork on his desk, though that night he hadn't caught any shuteye and that following day he'd gone to work, worn out and sleep deprived, though he'd made that report with Cuddy, calmly, without any comment unrelated to his little baby that had rabies. That came as a surprise to Cuddy who would expect something else out of one of her best, though most irritating doctors and hadn't gotten it. "House, are you--?" she'd attempted to question if he was okay, but he took his cane and left her.

Over the last week and a half following the death of his last patient, House had developed chronic headaches that worsened by the day, and the pain in his leg had increased tenfold, to the point where Vicodin couldn't even make a dent in his pain level. He'd at least looked at the patient's file though he couldn't read, he could barely see, hear, walk, or even think. Any interactions with his team would be short and then he had to go lie down. He'd feared that he'd break down in front of someone if he'd tried to communicate with anyone other than himself, so he stayed away, and opted to figure out what his current patient was dying from, on his own, without his team, though he wouldn't get far at all.

Nothing could take care of this pain, and he'd had a temperature of a hundred and two when he'd come into work for the last couple of days. He hadn't slept well at all, he'd barely eaten, and he couldn't stop thinking about Katie, baby with rabies. His lack of shuteye had caused visual and auditory hallucinations; he could see and hear that happy, innocent little girl if he'd be left completely alone.

As one of Princeton Plainsboro teaching hospital's most reliable physicians, House decided that he would take himself on as a case, temporarily. He had to care for himself before he could take on that patient that waited for his care down the hall; he believed that his team could take care of that zebra of a patient. House hadn't thought at all that any of his symptoms would be psychological, not at first - he would be hard-wired not to blame any patient's ailments on depression or any other mental illness without ruling out every other condition out there.

Desperate for an answer, House had gone to the lab, without telling anyone where he was, nor had he told anyone that anything had gone wrong and he'd taken the time to get an MRI, without a clue that anyone would come to him. He sat and went through his results, and he'd gotten nothing. All clear. He turned the chart over when he'd heard someone come in - he couldn't let anyone see that he'd had his own file, that he'd spent the last half an hour in the imaging lab.

"Well, that's because I didn't," came House's response to Wilson's comment. He'd had no way out of here, with Wilson blocking the only exit, and Wilson wouldn't believe any of his bullshit if he'd tried to lie to him about whose name was on those images that still displayed on the computer screen and the chart that he'd held under his hand.

He looked from Wilson to the computer screen when Wilson questioned if he was supposed to assume that was his brain, and he didn't respond. He didn't even look at Wilson, not until Wilson had brought up his patient, and the little girl that he couldn't get out of his head.

"You think I don't know that?" House asked, then he hesitated. He hadn't acted like he'd cared at all about that medical zebra down the hall, he'd loved medical zebras, they were so interesting to him but he couldn't function and he hadn't thought that maybe another doctor should take his patient, but the patient was given to him for a reason - every other doctor couldn't figure it out.

"... What made you think that this had anything to do with Katie?" his voice shook as he uttered that name. He'd normally not even known the patient's name, all he'd cared about would be their condition, and treating them. That would be Wilson's evidence that House hadn't moved on.

House would be in denial. He couldn't admit that that case had gotten to him. He'd refused to believe that his current condition was a direct result of the emotional distress and his darkened mental state from the loss of that baby patient. He'd felt nothing for so long and those strong emotions were bubbling up to the surface and he couldn't control them, not on his own.

He couldn't bottle anything up anymore and it was like someone had dropped that bottle and shattered it, letting all that he'd trapped in there out. He'd tried to blame all of this pain on some medical cause but his MRI and bloodwork both came out clean.

[LadyLoki]

Of course he hadn’t ordered any tests, he hadn’t even gone near the medical ‘zebra’ patient. That in itself was odd. House absolutely loved exotic diagnoses. They kept him on his toes, so to speak. The fact he hadn’t even tried to come up with a theory was making Wilson nervous. Normally House would be chattering nonstop about what evidence he could provide for his diagnosis, and most certainly not hiding in an MRI room. From the way Cameron had described it, the three doctors were getting desperate.

There it was. Katie. Wilson sighed softly, his proof already laid bare in front of him. House never knew patient names. Not once. Not even the really important ones they were supposed to treat with intense respect. The fact House knew Katie’s name meant his friend was killing himself over not being able to save the little girl. “You know her name.” Wilson said simply, studying House intently. “You haven’t been the same since she died House, and you know it.” The oncologist wasn’t moving from the doorway, not until he’d said his piece.

House would literally make a break for it if he budged, even though Wilson could easily catch up with him when he was having a good day. It didn’t look like it was a good day, and even the vicodin likely wasn’t helping. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Her dad didn’t tell you about the dog, that’s the end of it. You have other patients who are depending on you for to treat them. You are their only hope.” Wilson laid it out pointedly, hoping to jerk his friend back into a more familiar mindset. “Your team is being absolutely useless, and your patient is running out of time.” He even threw a little bit of derogatory language toward House’s subordinates, because normally that got the man to jump how stupid they could be.

As much as it was that House blamed himself, there was something else there. From the way House had been looking at the MRI, and from what Wilson could see, there wasn’t anything abnormal. Thus, not the answer House had been looking for. Of course he would jump to the conclusion that emotions were a disease. Only House would think human emotion was a disease. More to the point, he had been trying to hard to force his emotions away that he was actually making himself sick.

The denial of his feelings was probably causing the mess that was currently Dr. Greg House, but Wilson didn’t have time to deal with it at the moment. More to the point, House’s patient didn’t have time for Wilson to deal with it. “Come on House, you have to help.” Wilson shifted slightly, clearing the door and waiting pointedly for the other doctor to exit in front of him. “It might even make you feel better.” He offered, although he doubted it deep down. As long as he’d known the man, House had never once looked like that, though all the ups and downs.

Wilson had done all he could do. He had at least sent House on what he hoped was toward his dying patient. There were more patients to see, and Wilson had already been here too long as a favor to Cameron. His mind wasn’t completely there though, all day. It was wandering, wondering what he could do to help his closest friend. House couldn’t keep functioning like this. If he kept forcing his emotions down, like he always did, then he wasn’t useful to anyone. More importantly, it was going to end up killing him. It didn’t take a genius to see House was at the tipping point of breaking down, and Wilson only hoped the man could make it to the end of the day.

With that, Wilson had made up his mind. After a bit of research on his personal laptop, away in his office far from prying eyes, he thought he had his answer. As soon as the opportunity presented itself, Wilson was going to talk to House and force his stubborn genius of a friend to realize what he was doing was going to make everything worse. The guilt, the emotional repression, all of it.

With renewed focus, Wilson threw himself into his work to try and speed up the time. As he saw patients and filled out paperwork, Wilson just kept praying that House would make to the end of the day. Just save this patient, and everything would be okay. That’s what he had to hope for.

Across the hospital, Cameron, Chase, and Foreman were slumped over their table with whiteboards surrounding them as an ominous indication of their failure to do their jobs without House. “We’re running out of time.” Chase said with a sigh, rubbing his temples and standing up. “House isn’t coming, and we have to do this on our own.” He insisted, before turning to one of the boards and wiping it clean. “We just need to start over…what symptoms does she have?” The Australian man asked, looking back to his colleagues with an expectant expression.

Foreman’s brow shot up at Chase’s sudden spurt of leadership, and was about to open his mouth to complain when Cameron cut him off. “Does it matter which of us stands there? He’s dying!” She snapped, before turning her tired eyes onto Chase. “Severe abdominal pain, nausea, and vomiting.” Cameron listed off, and Foreman rolled his eyes before joining in.

“Blistering, rashes, seizures…that could be anything.” He admitted with a sigh, looking at the white board. “We’re lost. We don’t have anything, and that man is getting worse.” Foreman sighed, resting his head in his hands as his colleagues looked at one another in worry. “Are we seriously this useless without House?” He asked, and Chase huffed while Cameron bit her lower lip.

“What’s been up with him anyway?” Chase asked, leaning forward in case there were any wandering ears. God knows how House found out most things, and it seemed like the man had a gift for turning up when people were talking about him. Foreman shrugged a shoulder, but all of them had a good assumption of what it was.

“Well, he hasn’t been the same since-“ Cameron started, before abruptly pausing and looking up down the hallway. Limping toward them was House. “Oh thank god.” She said softly, before hurriedly standing up to open the door for him. House looked like his limp was bothering him even more than usual today, and Cameron was trying to be nice. “House, we’ve been here for hours and we haven’t come close to a diagnosis.”

Chase nodded, pointing to the white board. “It could be any number of things, and the man’s getting worse every hour.” He said, flopping back into his chair now that their boss had returned. “We need your help.” It was a rough thing to admit, but it was the truth.

Foreman’s brow creased, leaning forward and waving a hand toward the older doctor. “House? You with us?”

[Nene]

House's voice broke into a whisper and he stopped talking completely to actually listen to Wilson. He'd thought that he hadn't the energy to hold this conversation, or any conversations with Wilson nor anyone. It took a lot for House to show up at the hospital today, or any day following his baby patient's passing.

The head of diagnostics had thought there to be little to no correlation between the passing of his pediatric patient and the later onset of his debilitating symptoms, though now he could not deny that that would be the case. Wilson was right, but he'd thought there to be nothing that he could do to repair his broken bottle.

This appeared to be what would happen whenever House would care about a patient, and he hadn't known how he could possibly forget Katie's name, and that cute little smile she gave him whenever he came into her room. Katie was so little and House felt he should've known better, but no scratches, no bites, nothing to clue him in to the possibility that the five year old had rabies. He'd done all that he could but he couldn't think rationally and he wouldn't listen to another's reasoning.

"...No, I didn't do anything wrong. This isn't about me doing something wrong, it's about me not doing enough." He didn't want to talk about this anymore. He couldn't. He'd blamed himself, for being too slow, he should've asked questions, he should've done this, that, and everything else that he hadn't thought to possibly do.

He'd made a mistake, he'd thought, though that wouldn't be the case at all. He'd done all that he could have, and nobody could've known that the child had rabies, not unless that sorry excuse for a father had stepped forward and told the doctors of his baby's contact with that rabid animal. It was so rare that it wasn't even in House's differential.

House hadn't wanted to make a mistake like that again and when Wilson brought up his still alive though dying patient a second time he realised that by not going to his team, by not caring for that patient, that patient would end up like Katie, dead because he didn't do enough, and to hear his team was being absolutely useless got a lengthy sigh out of him.

He'd still had a couple of tests that he'd wanted to run, but he had to go to his patient and his team who had no idea what they were doing; if Wilson hadn't thought his emotions were a disease, House would put those concerns on the backburner in favor of his patient. He had a life to save and he couldn't do it by hiding out in the imaging lab. House bent down and gathered his cane from the floor, and he gradually stood on wobbly legs.

"... Okay. I have to go... I'd be useless as those three morons if I didn't." it hadn't taken a whole lot for House to be convinced, and he carefully crossed the room over to Wilson, then when Wilson stepped out of his path, House went out of the imaging lab. He hadn't thought that caring for his patient would help him feel any better, as his headache had only gotten worse and his body temperature had risen a whole degree. As he stood upright, he hadn't felt well at all and it appeared that the hallway had gotten longer with every step that he took.

House came down the hallway, visible discomfort plastered on tired features and those pained blues closing with each step that he took on that leg. He had to sit down, or lie down, either would be good, but he'd had a task at hand, and he briefly made eye contact with Cameron as she opened the door for him to limp on through. He'd appreciated that more than he'd thought that Cameron understood.

Not looking at Chase nor at Foreman, House slammed his cane down on the table and went to the white board. It appeared that House hadn't caught any of the words Chase had spoken, though he'd cleared his throat and interrupted Foreman when he'd leaned forward and waved a hand to get his attention.

"--I know you do. I shouldn't have left you three alone, not for this long. You're useless without me." he frowned as he looked through the patient's file splayed out on the table and he rounded on his team of doctors he'd thought to be competent. Something was missing, or at least he'd thought something to be missing, he could barely see or think with this blinding headache and his ears rang when anyone from his team spoke to him.

"No labs? No imaging? Out of the four hours you three have been here none of you thought that maybe it would be a good idea to, I don't know, run a panel? It could be anything, but we're not going to learn anything by sitting around braiding each other's hair. You should be testing his blood, his urine, his stool, anything that you can get a sample of you should be testing." House didn't know who to look at as he dragged them and he let out a lengthy sigh and looked to the papers that he held in trembling hands.

"I shouldn't have to tell you what to do. The first thing you should've checked is this guy's blood...work..." House turned the page and he would be looking right at the panel that he'd thought his team hadn't run. House looked over the results of the panel that they'd run on the guy, which would be inconclusive as most of the values had come out within normal ranges. He'd come to conclusions with his team and he'd felt like an ass, but he quickly recovered, or so he'd thought.

The symptoms hadn't fit together well at all. The seizures appeared unrelated to all of the other symptoms but House had known better than to look at them as as separate conditions.
"Abdominal pain, nausea, vomiting, that could be caused by gastritis, biliary disease, or pancreatitis, but then the blistering, rashes, and the seizures wouldn't make any sense. I don't care who does it but we have to get a urine sample and a CT, with contrast of his abdomen." he looked up from the documents to Cameron and Chase, then to Foreman.

House had too little to go on and too little patience; he had to take a look at those rashes and blisters himself to get an idea. He had to figure this out even if he had to look at the samples under the microscope himself, though he hadn't dared stand as a wave of vertigo had overtaken him. He'd not eaten nor slept nearly enough to sustain himself and he appeared as if he were about to topple over.

[LadyLoki]

Chase and Foreman were getting ready to defend themselves when House started rounding on them for not running the panels, which they had. House would have known that had he actually been here, instead of wherever the hell he had been all morning. Chase opened his mouth to complain, but a glare from Cameron shut him up.

While the other two might have just thought House was bitching at them for no reason, she saw the slight tremor in the normally steady hands. It must have taken a lot for House to have come here, to help them out. And even though House got on her nerves, and constantly put the three of them down, Cameron could appreciate him struggling through whatever was causing him so much pain.

Foreman stood up, nodding. “I’ll do it the CT scan.” He offered, in a rare show of magnanimity. In all honestly, he wasn’t sure what to do with a House that was so off-kilter. While it wasn’t fun having House tear him a new one for shit he had actually done, Foreman wasn’t an idiot. As soon as Cameron had shot that glare at Chase, the neurologist took a good long look at his boss. It was then he realized what Cameron was seeing. Something wasn’t right. Not that any of them were going to call him on it.

Whatever was bothering House would eventually go away, and the man would come back at the person who’d spoken up with a vengeance never before seen. Foreman did not want to be that person. Chase stood up as well, eyes moving from House to the door. “I’ll take the urine sample.” And with that, the two headed out the door.

And that left Cameron, who was looking at House with worried eyes. Her boss looked like was literally on his last legs. “Are you feeling okay House?” Cameron asked carefully, not wanting to provoke an outburst like the one they had just faced down earlier. She wondered if he knew she’d been the one to send Wilson to track him down. For whatever reason, House listened more to the oncologist than anyone else.

About an hour and a half later, Chase and Foreman returned with the results. “You were right.” Foreman responded, holding out the charts to House. “His heme levels are almost non-existent. There’s probably been a toxic build-up in his body that’s causing the seizures.” He reported, before raising a brow. “But what could possibly cause a drop this substantial? His wife never reported seeing any signs of these symptoms before.”

“Can you even catch something that causes such a fast decrease in heme levels?” Cameron asked, looking to House. “Something must have triggered it. You don’t lose the ability to make heme overnight. If this keeps up, he’s going to die from a build-up of toxins before we even-“ Her thoughts were interrupted by an incessant beeping from her pager. Seconds later, Chase’s, Foreman’s, and House’s were going off.

“He’s coding!” Foreman said, standing up in a hurry as nurses began rushing into the man’s room with a crash cart. He was the first one to grab the paddles as the nurse attempted CPR. As soon as the man’s chest was exposed, Foreman charged the paddles of the AED. “Charging. Clear!” The man’s chest jolted upward, but the heart monitor was still flat. “Clear!” Foreman called again, only to be met with the same response. He gritted his teeth. One last time. “Clear!” The heart monitor jumped back to life, and slowly began a steady rhythm once again.

Foreman let out a shaky breath, before looking back to Cameron and Chase. That had been extremely close. Once they were back in their little conference area, Chase spoke up. “We’re running out of time. His heme levels are low, but the best we can do is a temporary fix until we know exactly what’s wrong with him.” He said, pacing back and forth in front of the white boards. “He hasn’t done anything that would indicate he caught some rare disease!”

Foreman was silent with his eyes off in space, thinking with his fingers laced in front of his mouth. Cameron was tapping the white board markers on her arm as she stared at the symptoms. “What if it’s genetic?” She asked after a moment, looking back to the group. “And that’s why we can’t find anything that he’s caught?”

The trio glanced over to House, before Foreman looked back to Cameron. “But if it was genetic, don’t you think he’d have realized he had something by now? Especially something causing seizures that are that bad?” He asked, raising a brow. “I feel like that’s something his wife would have remembered to disclose.” There was a tense silence, and Cameron’s eyes flashed to House. The painful similarity between the father forgetting about his daughter coming into contact with a rabid dog was faint, but it was there.

“Not if his lifestyle changed suddenly. His wife said he lost his job recently, right?” Cameron said, and Chase nodded. “I noticed his fingers were stained with tobacco, and when he first arrived he smelled like alcohol. What if he’s kept the drinking a secret from his wife, and that caused the onset of the symptoms. Alcohol’s toxic, but not enough when your blood can filter it out. Without heme, his blood probably can’t cope and it’s increasing the toxicity.” She finished proudly, looking over to House for his approval. Unfortunately, he didn’t seem like he was completely with them today.

Seeing the man code earlier might have triggered something, Cameron realized, biting her lip. House hadn’t been with them mentally since the little girl with rabies coded. And their patient almost died, again without House being able to save him. Luckily he was hanging on, by a thread. A few pointed questions to his wife from Chase finally got her to admit that he’d been struggling with alcohol abuse. She hadn’t said anything because she didn’t want them to think he was a drunk. It was actually depressing, how much people hid because they wanted to save themselves from the truth. Cameron didn’t like to think about how many times House had been proven right. Everybody lies.

[Nene]

House hadn't thought he'd deserved his team's appreciation as he'd consistently gotten on their nerves and had spoken down to them as if they were completely useless and unintelligent; he hadn't thought any of them cared for him at all and he would not blame them. He hadn't exactly gone out of his way to be liked.

Without a word, House nodded with approval when Foreman went to get the patient prepared for a CT scan, and Chase volunteered to collect the urine sample. He'd appeared so broken down though House appreciated that his team would still listen to him and do what they were told. When two of the three doctors had gone, leaving only him and Cameron in the conference room, House thought quietly of what he had to do for his patient while he awaited the results, though those thoughts would be interrupted when Cameron came to him with a question.

"... I'm fine... I don't want you worrying over me, I'm not your patient." House brought down the volume and gruffness of his voice, as he'd still felt like an ass for shouting at his team for no good reason, and he'd tried to be kind to Cameron, as she'd shown him nothing but kindness since he'd limped through that door. "I don't want you standing around, staring at me."

It had taken a while for the doctor to come up with something that he'd thought would be best for his remaining subordinate to take care of, though once he'd sent her off to do some task for their patient, he'd had the conference room to himself. He looked from the white board, to the inconclusive test results. He'd wanted nothing more than to go into his office and lie down in his recliner, though he had a department to run and he had to stay upright and scratch down the differential diagnoses.

An hour and a half later, all three of his subordinates came into the conference room and House hadn't taken his attention off of the slip of paper on which he'd jotted down countless notes, not until the imaging and urinalysis results would be plunked down on the table beside him. He listened to his team and he took the results, looking them over, and those tired blues widened and those brows rose.

"... A problem in the production of heme," House spoke to himself, though he'd done so inaudibly and his lips would move with the words. That would be familiar to the doctor and he'd thought maybe he'd had his answer, but he had to run a couple more tests with that urine sample to be completely certain. He'd completely lose that train of thought however when all of their pagers went off, alerting them to their patient coding.

The doctor hadn't dared stand and he looked to his pager, those worn out blues closing as he'd gone back to the night that their pediatric patient had coded. With his body ravaged by pain, House hadn't the ability to follow his team and he could not be present for the resuscitation of their patient. As they brought back their patient from the brink of death, House sat at the long conference table, alone, though he would be brought out of that flashback when his team came back. He'd been as useless tonight as the night that Katie had coded and passed away, and his current patient had nearly lost his life because he was again, too slow.

House stared down at his notes as his team discussed their patient's medical history, his past with addiction, and House felt his chest tighten when he'd heard those words, regarding the patient's wife remembering to disclose something. For a couple of moments House looked to an empty chair, expression completely blank as his mind would be brought back to Katie, and he'd experienced an auditory hallucination of her sweet shrieks of giggles. House brought his hands up and leaned over the table, holding his head in his hands a moment though he'd placed his hands firmly over his ears, until that giggling had stopped.

"... Zip it... All of you," House gradually stood, and without grabbing his cane, he limped over to the white board where they'd jotted down the patient's symptoms. "The patient's got a problem with heme production. He's got nausea, vomiting, seizures, rashes, and blisters, and that urinalysis came back with abnormal porphobilinogen levels, which means..." House trailed off and steadied his breathing and stabilising his stance so she wouldn't fall over.

"The patient could have a type of porphyria," House wrote down 'porphyria' on the white board and circled it, "The next step is testing his urine for porphyrin, to figure out which types of porphyria that he's got. He's got symptoms of both neurological and cutaneous porphyrias, which is rare and neither of them can be cured... Any questions?" he turned to face his team, and his world went dark. House fainted, falling to the side, and he'd nearly taken the white board down with him.

House came to less than fifteen seconds later with Chase, Cameron and Foreman hovering and fretting over him; one of them had two fingers on his carotid artery to check for a pulse, to make sure that their boss hadn't just dropped dead. House would be incredibly lucky that he hadn't gotten hurt.

[LadyLoki]

One moment the trio had been listening to House talking about porphyria, and the next minute the three of them were on the ground and trying to get House to wake up. Foreman was relieved to feel a pulse, before settling back on his haunches as House regained consciousness. Chase looked surprised, and Cameron looked almost horrified.

“You okay House? Did you hit your head? Anything feel broken?” Foreman began covering their bases as best he could, heaving himself back into a standing position before bending down to help House stand back up. Chase picked up the man’s cane, while Cameron hurriedly brought over a chair for Foreman to help House sit in. Standing up again was most likely not the best idea. After a once over, House seemed relatively intact physically. His heartbeat had been racing though, and Foreman was beginning to realize that House was actually much worse off then they had been led to believe.

“House, maybe you should go home and get some rest.” Cameron spoke up, gesturing to the white board that held their answer. “We can handle things from here now that we have the answer. We’ll test his urine and start treatment. You need sleep.” Privately, she thought he needed a lot more than sleep, but House needed to get out of the hospital before he collapsed again and potentially hurt himself.

“He can’t drive Cameron, not like this.” Chase said, raising a brow. “He can barely stand up straight…that’s a disaster waiting to happen.” Unfortunately, none of them could leave until their patient had been seen to. If there was an emergency, they couldn’t afford to be short one doctor. Cameron sighed, pacing slightly. She felt a little bad for talking about House like he wasn’t even there, but at the same time the man wasn’t himself. Cameron hadn’t missed how he had been covering his ears earlier or the blank expression like he could see something they couldn’t.

Foreman brought House a bottle of water, when Cameron suddenly had her answer. “Wait here, I’ll be right back!” She called behind her shoulder as she breezed out of the conference room, leaving her colleagues to shrug and attempt to keep House sitting down before he could collapse again. If she hurried, she might be able to catch Wilson before he left. If anyone could figure out what was wrong with House, it would be him. Not to mention, at the very least, House would be able to get home.

Across the hospital, Wilson had been finishing up the last of his paperwork. He hadn’t heard from House all day, which could either be a good sign, or a really bad one. The man took a moment to think through what he had decided to do. Wilson had done his research, extensively. It had been recommended a few times, especially in cases like these. At the same time, it was going to irreversibly shift the relationship he and House shared with one another.


Wilson had been on his way to House’s office to see if the man was still there, when he ran into a breathless Cameron who waved at him insistently from down the hall. After a moment of confusion at what she could possibly want, Wilson’s mind immediately jumped to the worst possible conclusion. Had something happened to House? Was he injured, or had he done something stupid to try and rid himself of the symptoms he’d been feeling? Before any of those questions could be asked aloud, Cameron finally came to a stop in front of Wilson, keeping her voice low so no one else could hear. This seemed like the kind of thing House wouldn’t want Cuddy to know about.

While Cameron prided herself on being an honest person, House needed help. He’d clearly been suffering for longer than he’d let on, and it had just finally come to a head. “House fainted…he was out for about fifteen seconds before he came back to.” She said quietly, and Wilson’s eyes creased immediately in concern.

“Is he alright? He didn’t hit anything?“ Wilson started to ask the same battery of questions. Cameron sighed and nodded her way through them.

“We checked, His pulse is elevated, but nothing’s broken and I don’t think his head hit anything on the way down. He’s okay, physically anyway.” She said, glancing around them and lowering her voice a little more. “I think he should head home, Wilson. He’s not in any position to be driving, so I was hoping you’d be able to take him home. We know what the patient has, and can start treatment…but there’s something really wrong with House. It’s like he’s been staring into space, and I think he’s hearing things.” Cameron said, eyes pleading with Wilson not to dismiss her like Chase and Foreman had at first. House needed help. Thankfully, Wilson nodded immediately and began heading straight for the conference room.

He got there shortly, his long strides leaving Cameron slightly behind. She took the time to run to House’s office and grab his things. Wilson knew there was a reason he was fond of her. Chase and Foreman were still there, making sure House was still relatively in one piece. The two breathed a sigh of relief at seeing Wilson, but the oncologist wasn’t paying any attention to either of them. His gaze was focused on House, who looked like he’d been through the wringer. “C’mon House, I’m going to take you home. You did your job. Chase and Foreman will handle the paperwork.” Wilson promised, before helping his friend stand upright as best he could. Any hint of protest was met with a glare.

House’s bike would have to stay here until they could grab it. Wilson did his best to support the majority of House’s weight, nudging his friend along and ignoring any protests. “You shouldn’t have let it get this bad, House.” Wilson lectured quietly after a moment, as they made their slow progress to the garage. “At least, not without telling someone that you were struggling.” He added, unlocking his car and opening the passenger side to help House in. Wilson got in the driver’s side and started the engine up, before glancing over to House. Now or never. He pulled out of the garage, heading for House’s place.

“You’re hearing things?” Wilson asked, glancing to House before looking back to the road. “Cameron mentioned you were covering your ears, earlier.” He prodded carefully. House had nowhere to run, thankfully. A moving vehicle was even better than a blocked doorway.

[Nene]

As a physician highly regarded by the hospital and other area hospitals House had a perfect understanding that humans required food, water, and adequate rest to sustain life, though he'd forgotten about those requirements - he'd not eaten for four days and he hadn't slept for longer than four hours over the last week; he'd no control over anything and as he regained consciousness on the floor of his conference room, disoriented and confused with his team all around him coming at him with an onslaught of questions, he'd known he'd let this get too far along. If he wouldn't take care of himself he would die from this.

"... Yes... No. No." House responded gruffly to Foreman covering their bases. There would be no way that he could actually convince anyone that he would be okay, as he'd appeared pale and even worse off than before he'd taken that spill. "I find... the sound of your voice... grating." House grumbled, though he would be too disoriented to direct it to anyone in particular. He would be totally dead weight and Foreman would have to gather him up off the floor as House had too little strength in his legs to attempt to stand or get up from that curled up position on the floor.

It took a while though they'd gotten him seated upright in a chair that they'd taken from the conference table, and he leaned up on the back of it and lowered his head. House would be too stubborn to accept any of this; he'd still had an obligation to be there for his patient, or so he'd thought, though in reality he'd done all that he could and he'd given his team the tools and the diagnosis to treat their patient and save his life.

With that realisation that he could do no more, the idea of going home appealed to House as he'd only wanted to lie down in total silence and darkness. His neighbors at his flat were old and quiet and he'd never heard anything from them and he'd had peace for all hours of the day and night. House's ears rang as familiar voices came from all around him, including that sweet little voice belonging to Katie. This vision of Katie appeared to be responding to his subordinates, with 'I think you're abso-tootely right' and 'okie dokie'.

"... You do know that I'm still here, right...?" House asked as his team spoke of him as if he weren't there. He didn't have a choice. He couldn't stand, he couldn't drive and he had to get home, and his team, while House thought they didn't have to, had to find some way to take care of him. He'd thought he'd never sleep and he couldn't bring himself to take a bite of food or a drink of water and he held the still unopened water bottle in his hand.

When Cameron left the room and Foreman and Chase held onto him so he wouldn't fall out of the chair again, House shook his head subtly, "... You know, you don't have to stand there and hold me in place, I'm okay." he told them, though his voice wavered at that one last 'I'm okay'. No, he was not okay, in fact he would be the complete opposite of okay, and he lowered his head as he'd felt the tears come. Over the last week he hadn't the patience for waterworks and the dam between this unusual behavior and hysterical sobbing had started to break apart.

The pain that ravaged his body had overwhelmed him and he couldn't stop his shoulders from shaking and his body tensing as he'd done all that he could to keep his strongest emotions under control. "... Differential for mass in the occipital lobe, normal MRI, go," he intended to speak out but he'd only whispered, swallowing hard at the tears. He had to keep his mind occupied, he couldn't lose it, not in front of Chase and Foreman.

'... Aren't you bein' a little silly?' came Katie's voice, which House had quickly assumed had become a part of his conscience and reasoning. He wouldn't talk back to a hallucination, not here, not where his team could hear him. That would only call more attention to him that he hadn't asked for.

Both House and the hallucination of Katie looked to the door with tired, curious blues as Wilson came in with Cameron. House took his cane from Chase, a tremor still present in both of those calloused hands. He'd not thought of anything that he could say and he wrapped an arm around Wilson and with Wilson's assistance he stood. His legs shook violently though he'd believed that Wilson had him and wouldn't let him fall.

As Wilson lectured him on their way to the garage, House scoffed and shook his head subtly, "I don't... have any control over it. I thought I could... fix it myself." he admitted, which took a lot for him to do. For the first time in a long time he hadn't known what to do. He had tried to look at it from a physician's perspective, and he'd tried to put himself in the place of a patient and still he couldn't fix it. He would be too stubborn to face what he'd tell a patient if he'd found out they were in his position.

"I didn't want the attention," he told Wilson gruffly as his friend told him he should've told someone. He had little choice but to go with Wilson and he sat in the passenger seat and laid his weary head back to rest. His whole body throbbed as he relaxed and he'd felt so sick in that moment and his head lulled to the side as Wilson pulled the car out of the garage.

House's brows drew downward as Wilson mentioned him hearing things, and told him that Cameron had told Wilson about his strange behavior, covering his ears. "... No, my head hurt, and they were all talking at once." well, that would be a partial truth, but he'd heard a little sigh from the back seat.

'It's bad to lie, don't be naughty, Wilson's tryin' to help you.' came Katie's voice and House looked up at the rearview mirror with a gasp that he'd covered up with a sigh. That image of Katie appeared so real. He couldn't be certain if any of this was actually real and for all he knew he could be sleeping in his office, or he'd not come to work at all. He'd hoped this would all be some sort of nightmare and that he'd wake up in his own bed. If this was real there would be no way out of this.

[LadyLoki]

The sideways glance toward House when he answered his question about the hallucinations was a skeptical one. House was an excellent liar when he wanted to be, but Wilson had known the man for a very long time. There was always just an inkling of truth in House’s lies, enough to be convincing. But that meant everything other than that tiny fragment was a lie. Wilson had no doubt House’s head hurt, probably from lack of food, water, and sleep. It was also probably why he’d fainted. Wilson didn’t comment on anything just yet. There would be time for that later as it was. He didn’t miss House’s fixed gaze on the rearview mirror though.

It was just like Cameron had described. House appeared to be looking at something, his line of sight trained on no one else could see. His eyes were vacant, but focused on something all at the same time. Wilson sighed quietly himself, but he focused on getting to House’s before the man fainted again. The first thing would be to make sure House actually ate something, and drank some water. If what he had planned was going to work, then it really wouldn’t be best for House to pass out again. Wilson pulled up to the apartment, parking the car. It was rare they drove in silence, but it fit the mood.

He exited the car, before heading around to House’s side and opening the passenger door. Wilson had to bend to House could sling his arm around his shoulders, and it was a bit difficult to bear the brunt of House’s weight, but eventually Wilson got his bearings. It was a slow walk to the front of the one bedroom apartment, but Wilson was nothing if not patient. Not to mention Wilson was pretty sure if they went too quickly, House’s shaky balance would give out.

Wilson waited patiently for House to open the front door, before the two made their way to House’s couch. With a grunt, Wilson settled House on the couch before stretching a bit once the extra weight left his shoulders. “You need to eat.” It was the first thing he had said since they had left the hospital. “And drink some water. And then we’re going to talk.” Wilson added, heading into the kitchen see if House had anything that was actually edible. It was unlikely, considering the state that his fellow doctor had been in for the last week and a half. He would have to order takeout. Not the healthiest, but it would do.

After a moment’s worth of debating, Wilson settled on the Chinese place that House liked. He knew the man’s order from memory, and after a brief conversation, food was on the way. Normally Wilson might be afraid of House finding somewhere to hide until he left it alone, but in House’s current condition, it was unlikely he was going anywhere. Wilson sighed, before filling a glass with water and returning to the couch.

“I ordered food from the Chinese place you like.” Wilson said, before offering the glass of water to House. “Drink that, I doubt you’ve had enough water in the last day, let alone the last seven.” He instructed, before steeling himself for the conversation they were about to have. “House, you’re not okay.” Wilson said, as gently as he could manage. “Ever since Katie died, you’ve stopped taking of yourself. Bad enough that you fainted.” He added, a hint of reproach in his tone. “And I would also bet that you spent all morning running tests on yourself, trying to find a disease that isn’t there.”

He sighed quietly, before his eyes met the piercing blue gaze that was normally so sharp. “And I know what you told me about those hallucinations is crap, House. If you were seeing things, the first thing you should have done was told somebody about it. Hell, it didn’t even have to be me! But letting yourself get to the point where intervention is necessary is dangerous.” It felt a little weird to be lecturing House, but all he had to do was look at the state the man was in to remind himself why this was important.

“If you keep bottling your emotions up like this House, it’s going to end up killing you one day.” Wilson sighed, running a hand through his hair and shrugging off the jacket he was wearing. “Human emotions and feelings aren’t something you have to run away from. That’s why you feel like this, House. It’s all in your head.”

He had never been a confrontational person. If anything, House was one hundred percent much more abrasive then Wilson could ever hope to be. This though, was about to be the ultimate confrontation. “I could see the tears in your eyes yesterday, House. And earlier in the conference room. You’ve been teetering on the edge of breaking down, and giving into the emotions that you’ve been forcing away because you don’t want to deal with them.”

Wilson’s gaze shifted from being slightly sad to something sharper. Maybe he was out of his depth, but House needed this. “I won’t let you do this to yourself anymore. I get that you didn’t want anyone realizing you were struggling, but the only thing that that leads to is more suffering. It’s affecting your job, and sooner or later it’s going to get worse. I was doing some research earlier, into how to help you.” Wilson began, his gaze shifting away from House’s face as they got to the heart of this conversation.

“Quite a few sites mentioned a way to work through the guilt, and help you work through the emotions you keep pushing down and bottling up. I’m going to-I’m going to spank you.” Wilson said firmly, the words slipping off his tongue almost too easily. He was surprised at himself, probably equally as surprised as House was if he was being honest.

They had at least an hour before the food got here, considering how busy the restaurant normally was at this time of night. Wilson was looking straight at his best friend, arms crossed. “I think it’ll be the best way for you to let go…and you’ll stop seeing her.” Wilson made an educated guess as to what exactly kept distracting his friend.

Of course, he wasn’t a monster. House didn’t have a hope of fighting him off, even with his cane in the state he was in right now. Wilson wasn’t going to force the slightly taller man over his lap either. If this was going to work, House had to agree. It wouldn’t help to make him angry and upset at Wilson in addition to guilty. That would be a clusterfuck of emotions Wilson didn’t even want to consider. “You can tell me you’ll be fine House, but we both know it’s a lie. If you slip any further into your head…” Wilson’s statement trailed off. The implication was clear.