CP: HW! HW! HW!

Rate: T

Disclaimer: House is Wilson's. Chase is Cameron's or somebody else's. No, none of them are mine.

Author's note: A completely different version of House/Wilson's Christmas at S3e10. House never overdoses himself and Wilson never has to be Judas. A fantasy medical case, but still a medical case.

I wrote it in Chinese at 2007 and now try to translate (or rewrite) it in English.

God, I miss Chase so much. TT

Chapter 1

"House, pick the phone, we've got a patient."

Finally she heard the answer button pressed, and then a sleepy voice.

"If you mean Miss Maria, just get the mangeoire and oxytocin ready. Oh——hold on! I think we are already late for two-thousand and seven years!"

"House," Cuddy raised her voice just in time before the other side hung up:"27 male, crashing into a glass door while driving a motorcycle——hallucination and——"

"Yeah, when I was high, I always dreamed about crashing my motor into your office."

"Negative for drugs——and the toxic screen is clean."

"Do a CT scan."

"Nothing abnormal detected. Listen, ER has ruled out all the usual cases——You know it will be a good——"

"Not good enough."

"Ten hours of clinic——if you are not here in 30 minutes." Even Cuddy herself can hear the anger in the voice.

There is a silence.

The other side was silence for a while.

"Since it took you so much attention, if he is not Jesus Chris, then it must be Mr. Gates."

"……The father, Mr. Daniel Milverton just signed a check for $20,000,000 to the hospital. And if you are aware of the fact that we could have had the chance——"

"I'll let Wilson drive fast, since there is someone willing to pay the fine."

Cuddy sighed, and then cut the phone.

"Two billion? Hope the Daddy isn't as big as two Volgers."

House walked into sitting room, threw an angry look at the doctor who's still in his sweet dream on the sofa——the oncologist never worried about phone in the midnight, as his patient always died quietly.

"Oh MY DEAR St. Wilson, I need to borrow your coat——and your car." House raised the blanket on Wilson and declared loudly:" Half is enough."

"Depress, hallucination, lost of memories——" Cameron almost drowned herself in the files.

"The simplest answer is Alzheimer's." Foreman yawned.

"The patient is 27, not 72!" House poked Chase with his cane, who answered half dreamy:" alcohol withdrawal syndrome?"

The only serious one, Cameron disproved: "Liver function is fine. Excuse me, if you happened to read the files!"

"No. Of course I didn't. The only thing I know is it's definitely not lupus."

Foreman choked, and spilled his coffee.

"Long-term of neurasthenia, no doubt it's neurological."

"CT is clean, try brain MRI?"

"It's possible if we haven't destroyed the last MRI three days ago."

"It's not 'us', it's 'house' who spoiled it."

"Oh come on! Think up some exciting ideas to keep yourselves awake." House picked up the tennis ball on the desk, cast it in the air, and then caught.

"Cameron, arrange an LP, Foreman, take the dad. Chase——Congratulations! You got a chance to visit some moneybags' home.——I'll go see the patient."

All the three ducklings stared at him:" You? See the patient?!"

House stared back with a upright look: "What kind of son is worth 2 billons? Don't you curious?"