EPISODE 1: Monsters Within

Part 1

One more morning where he managed to run right into Cuddy. He forced a smile and his hand found its way into his pocket for the reassurance of the Vicodin. A forced smile.

She was holding a folder in her hand. Never, ever a good sign.

He looked at the clinic doors. For the first time, he wanted to be on the other side of those doors more than anything else.

Above all else, maintain the pleasant yet condescending smile. Win every time with that.

"There's a patient I need you to look at."

House looked back towards the clinic and kept his gaze there until Cuddy's followed. "All those sick people," he said, "and no one to look after them. People might think we want them here or something."

Cuddy ignored him. She usually did. "Patient was brought in, no ID on him…"

"A John Doe. My favorite kind of patient. Usually, they're unconscious, and that's the best."

"He's covered in scars."

"Well, scars imply that they're healed, and therefore I doubt they're the reason he's unconscious." House was waiting. Something had to be interesting about this patient, but he wasn't yielding until Cuddy told him what it was.

"He's got some more recent injuries, including about a dozen burns to his hands. And he's not got a liver."

"Not got one?"

"Could have been surgically removed, but with all his scars, impossible to tell."

House snatched the folder from her hands. If she wasn't going to be cooperative, then he wasn't going to be nice. As he headed to the elevator, he tossed back some Vicodin. If this was the most interesting thing that Cuddy could give him, it was going to be a slow week.

xXxXxX

"We don't have much to go on. John Doe is approximately twenty-five years old, with a bodyful of scars, no liver, and is currently sucking up oxygen in a near-comatose state." House looked around at the three of them. They looked even less impressed than he felt.

"Drugs," said Foreman.

"How do drugs explain anything?" asked Cameron, looking over at House. House made sure he wasn't looking back.

Foreman shrugged. "Got himself in trouble with his dealer…"

"And sold his liver? That doesn't explain the scars." Chase looked at House, too. "What other symptoms are there? There has to be something."

"Well, maybe he's asleep. Why don't you go and shake him, see what happens? This is all we've got. Bloodwork came back clean, MRI is clean, the only thing wrong with him is that he isn't up and about. So…?"

"Is he jaundiced?" asked Cameron. "If he's been without a liver for long enough, then maybe jaundice could explain it. Does he have a fever?"

"Just over a hundred."

"Is he on the transplant list?"

House raised an eyebrow. "He might be top of the list. But he's unconscious, so I doubt he'll be volunteering that information anytime soon."

"So, what do you want us to do?" asked Foreman.

"Antibiotics," said Chase.

"I agree with Chase," said Cameron.

"Cameron it is then," said House. "Full-spectrum antibiotics, see if that does anything." But he didn't look particularly convinced. They were still looking at him for instructions. "Well, people don't just fall unconscious for no reason."

"Jaundice causes weakness."

House pretended to look back down at the folder. "Oh, wait, I forgot something." He looked at each of them in turn before saying, "There's a bullet that lacerated his spleen and is now sitting vaguely in the cavity where his liver used to be. And he was shot at least one more time, as there's an entrance and exit wound."

"I told you, it's drugs."

House ignored Foreman.

"Lacerated spleen…blood loss," said Chase, getting up and starting to pace. "Is there blood in his abdomen? There should be."

"Spleens heal themselves after a while. There is some blood, but it seems to be absorbing at a normal rate. This was a while ago, that he was shot. Not likely to make him drop down after a week or so. The spleen is on the mend."

"Lead poisoning. The bullet's still in him."

"That wouldn't make him pass out," said Foreman. "Not without his blood pressure skyrocketing, and it's normal."

"A little high, but not enough to indicate lead poisoning," agreed House. He looked around at them again. "Anything else?" When none of them seemed likely to volunteer anything else, he dropped the folder onto the table and said, "If that's the case, then I believe I have a date at the clinic. Try not to let him die while I'm gone."

xXxXxXxX

The three of them looked around at each other. "Nothing's wrong with him," said Cameron. "I mean, he got shot a couple of times and he's missing a liver, but none of that tells us why he's unconscious. Other than that, is he healthy?"

"He's covered in scars," said Chase.

"So he's depressed," said Foreman. "Cuts himself."

"On the back? These scars are all over. Including his back and face, and looks like a nasty one in his groin." Chase had the pictures out and was examining them. "These don't look self-inflicted."

"Psychosis," said Cameron. "He went into a psychotic fit and hurt himself. It could happen."

"Hard to diagnose psychosis if he's not awake."

"But if we don't medicate him properly…"

"Relax," said Chase. "If he's unconscious, I think that his psychosis is the least of his worries."

"Get his blood pressure and temperature down to normal levels, pump him full of antibiotics, something has to happen," said Foreman decisively, standing up.

"What about the bullet?" asked Chase. "Shouldn't we be doing something to get it out? If it's the cause? It could be lead poisoning, especially if the bullet's been in there a while."

"It's not pressing any nerves, it's not doing any harm just where it is. Until we know what is going on, I don't think surgery is really the way to go."

xXxXxXxX

His first order of business was to find Cuddy. There had to be some reason that this John Doe was his problem now. She wasn't in her office, in the cafeteria, and nowhere to be found in the clinic. Clearly, she was hiding from him. Maybe she thought this was some kind of joke; give him this ridiculous patient and see exactly how he reacted to it.

But if she wasn't going to play along, he wasn't going to work in the clinic. He had always seen that as more of a favor to her, anyway. It would be easy to just forget about doing it, until she remembered to tell him just what he was doing with the amazing unconscious man.

So he went to see Wilson, interrupting his examination of a patient. Standing in the hallway, Wilson demanded, "What do you want? Some of us have to work to keep our jobs." But he closed the door; that meant he was actually going to listen.

"Is Cuddy hiding from me?"

"Should she be?"

"Wouldn't surprise me."

Wilson nodded, smiling. "Well, you've already got your mind set on it, so I'm not sure what I'm supposed to do but just keep nodding. So, how about I go back in there and you can imagine that I'm out here nodding?" He turned to go back into the room, and called over his shoulder, "But no, I don't think she is. I saw her go into her office a few minutes ago."

House made sure to take another Vicodin before he got to her office. Walking in without knocking, he asked, "As far as I am concerned, John Doe is perfectly healthy and ready to be discharged."

"He's woken up?" Cuddy looked surprised.

House shook his head. "Nope."

"Why is he ready to be discharged, then?"

"Don't see anything wrong with him."

There was a timid knock on the door, and House turned his head slightly. It was Chase. He beckoned the younger man in. "What is it?"

Chase glanced at Cuddy before talking. "We decided to do a full-body scan, to see if we could find anything…"

"Yes, yes, and?"

Chase frowned. "He's got a partially severed spine, way high up in his neck. The guy's a quadriplegic, he's lucky if he can move his head to either side."

Cuddy shook her head. "No, that's not possible. He's got all his normal reflexes."

House ignored her for the moment. "Anything else?"

"His kneecaps are not fully connected to either upper or lower leg, so even if he could walk despite having his spine nearly severed at the brainstem, there's no way his legs could support his own weight."

"Are these new injuries?"

"Don't look like it."

House narrowed his eyes. "Cuddy, how old did you say those scars were?"

"About six months, why?'

Now he turned to Chase. "And how long ago would you say that all of that John suffered his accident?"

"Judging by the bone growth, I'd say four to six months."

"Interesting."