"House. HOUSE!" Cuddy shook House by the shoulders, desperately trying to wake him, "Dammit House, wake up." He lay on a table inside one of the clinic's exam rooms, cane haphazardly thrown on the floor, one arm on his chest and the other hanging off the table.
"House? What the hell did you take?" Cuddy looked at him with concern, turned on her heel and headed towards the door, just as Wilson entered the lobby on his way back from a late morning dentist appointment.
He approached a clearly distraught Cuddy, "What's going on?"
"It's House. I can't wake him, he must have taken something. He's passed out in the exam room, we probably need to administer charcoal, pump his stomach, run a tox screen, I have no idea what he could have taken." Wilson looked at Cuddy with a furrowed brow and then ran towards the exam room, while Cuddy shouted orders to the nurses.
Wilson opened the door and stared at his friend for a moment before approaching his bedside. He shook House but to no avail. He then took out his penlight and checked his pupil reflexes, sighed and stood back from the table.
Cuddy watched Wilson from the doorway, covered her mouth with her hand and gasped, "Oh my god, is he," she shook her head in stunned silence, "Is he dead?"
"House get up." Wilson said angrily.
Cuddy stared at Wilson, then at House with obvious confusion, "You mean he's…"
Wilson looked at Cuddy, "Faking."
"Faking?"
"Get up and do your job House." Frustration could be heard in Wilson's voice, yet he was still concerned and placed a hand on House's forehead. Cuddy walked briskly over to the exam room table and slapped House on his arm with considerable force.
"Owww, that hurt." House said as opened his eyes and grabbed his arm.
"It was meant to. How could you do that?" Cuddy hit him again.
"Ok, I'm going to file battery charges. I think I'm coming down with the flu, I came in here to sleep off my headache. I wasn't faking death, I was trying to sleep and hoped you would just go away."
Cuddy glared at him, "Sometimes I think it would be easier if you really were gone."
"That's harsh." House smirked.
"Take some aspirin, you're running a fever." Wilson said.
"And then do your job or you're fired. You're not sick enough to go home." Cuddy's tone did not change, she was frustrated and angry with House, flu or not.
"So glad to know you care, boss." He said as he swung his legs off the edge of the exam table. House stood and walked out of the room.
Wilson walked Cuddy to her office and shut the door behind them. "He's absolutely incorrigible." She said with a sigh as she sat behind her desk. Wilson nodded his head.
"He actually was running a slight fever."
"Sick or not, he shouldn't have scared us like that." She shook her head and admitted, "He was pale."
"I noticed that too. Maybe you should send him home if he's coming down with the flu."
"I wouldn't want to give him the satisfaction."
Wilson smiled, "Are you ok?" He asked.
"My nerves are shot, I should have known. I should have checked his pupils, his pulse, something. I just assumed when he wouldn't wake up that he'd taken something and I went into panic mode."
"You care too much."
Cuddy looked up at Wilson, half smiling, "And what do you call running to his room as soon as you saw me?"
Wilson raised an eyebrow and nodded, "Touché."
