I Know You, Don' I?
Wilson hurried through the halls of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital towards House's office, carrying a stack of files in his hands. He looked furious. Storming into House's office, he was met by his friend sleeping in a reclining chair, his mouth wide enough to catch flies. Wilson slammed the files on the desk. That woke House up.
"Ugh," House grunted, opening his bloodshot eyes. "Mom, I don't want to go to school," he whined.
"Are you possibly the most childish person I have ever met," Wilson started to holler, "or do you have so much free time on your hands that you can't find anything better to do than to torment me?"
House smirked. "Is that a trick question?" Wilson grabbed the files off the desk and showed them to House.
"You super-glued them together," Wilson pointed out angrily. "My patients' files!"
"You're always losing your things," House mocked. "I thought gluing them together would save you time searching for each one."
"House," Wilson huffed. "These are important files, and you've ruined them!"
"Relax," House answered, opening his desk drawer and pulling out an identical looking stack of files. "These are your files." He dropped them on the desk. Wilson scanned the files quickly.
"The ones I super-glued are fakes," House assured. House sat back in his chair, satisfied. "Fooled ya, didn't I?"
Wilson let out a sigh. "Why would you…"
"It's a slow day," House shrugged. "I have my team scouring the clinic for anything resembling an interesting case and the best they could come up with is a mild case of toe fungus. The least I could do is get you to visit."
Wilson moseyed over to the couch next to House's desk. "You could have just called."
"Why would I do that?" House asked candidly. "This is so much more fun."
Wilson rolled his eyes and sat down. House whirled around in his chair.
"My day has been a hoot," Wilson commented sarcastically. "Not including the twenty minutes I spent trying to rip apart your little science project, I saw a forty year old construction worker who refuses to wear a hat while working outside and coincidently has had not one but three cancerous melanomas, a mother of three dying of breast cancer, and an eighteen year old with stage four liver cancer who insists he has never taken a drink before in his life."
House yawned. "Cancer patients are so smart."
Wilson stared at House for a moment. "What's with you? Didn't get much sleep last night?"
House shrugged him off. "I was yawning for dramatic effect."
"Your eyes are bloodshot," Wilson commented.
House leaned forward. "That's because Cuddy and I were having hot jungle sex last night."
Wilson leaned forward as well. "Cuddy was at the hospital fund raiser last night. Try again."
House went to make up an excuse but he was interrupted by a nurse barging through his door.
"Dr. House," she said frantically, waving him towards her. "We need you out here now." Wilson and House looked at each other, confused, before following the nurse into the hallway. They were met by a few security guards and a mob of doctors, including Thirteen and Foreman, surrounding a young woman screaming. She held a knife in her hands.
"Get away!" the woman yelled, her knife out in front of her, wavering in her shaky hands. "Don't touch me!"
House leaned forward to get a closer look. The young woman looked to be in her mid twenties, medium build, with long black hair under a black hat. Her clothes were dirt-stained and she had bruises on her face. Foreman put his hands out in front of him and walked slowly towards her.
"Easy," Foreman said calmly. "We just want to help you."
"I don't want your help!" the woman screamed, pointing the knife towards him. "I want Dr. House! Only him." House muttered to himself and started to walk away. Thirteen spotted him.
"House," she whispered to him. "Where are you going?" House turned to her.
"I'm sure you can handle this," he answered. The young woman waved the knife in front of her, her eyes filled with fear. Wilson noticed and shoved House forward.
"This is him!" Wilson called out, pointing to House. "This is Dr. Gregory House." The young woman stood still, looking at House. House stared at Wilson.
"Thanks a lot," he said. Wilson smirked.
"No problem," Wilson answered back. The young woman walked towards House and reached for her pocket. The security guards got anxious and reached for their guns.
"Wait," Wilson told them. The woman took out a piece of paper and handed it to House, still holding the knife. House unfolded the piece of paper and read it.
Find Dr. Greg House. He's the only one you can trust.
House looked back at the young woman. She stared into his eyes with a look of panic and desperation.
"Do you know who I am?" she asked hopefully.
House stared at her with a serious expression on his face. "No. Who are you?"
The woman looked at the ground for a moment and then shook her head.
"I don't know." Trickles of blood started to fall from her head down her cheek. Her eyes went out of focus and just as the knife dropped out of her hands, she fell to the ground.
Thirteen and Foreman ran towards the woman while the security guard grabbed the knife from beside her. Thirteen checked her pulse while Foreman gently removed her hat. The inside was stained with blood and there was a huge gash on the woman's head.
"We need to get her on a gurney," Foreman barked at a nurse. House stared at the piece of paper, then at the unconscious woman. Eventually, House looked back at a bewildered Wilson.
"Finally," House proclaimed. "An interesting case."