Disclaimer: I do not own Dr. House or any of the other characters that appear on the show. I do however own this plot. Also, any illnesses/diseases that appear in this fanfic (no matter how bizarre) do actually exist. If you don't believe me, google them.
[H] [H] [H]
"20 year old, Caucasian female. Presenting with heart palpitations, hallucinations, stomach pain and confusion aaaaaand go," said Dr. Gregory House as he walked through the door to his office and threw a blue patient file onto the long table at which his team was currently sitting and limped his way over to the whiteboard with his handy dry erase marker already uncapped.
Putting down the morning paper, Foreman was the first to respond, "Cancer. Probably a tumor in the brain because of the effects on the heart."
"But it wouldn't explain the stomach pain as well," interjected Cameron without getting a chance to supply her theory before Chase cut in.
"It would explain the stomach pain if the tumor were in the stomach, putting pressure on an artery leading into the heart," replied Chase, "but infection is far more likely in this case. Probably leaked to the spinal fluid at this point and caused encephalitis."
House turned abruptly and venomously spoke.
"Oooooo, so close, except CT Scan's were clean ruling out tumors or lesions and all blood cultures show no elevated white blood count or any other trace of infection. Keep playing," he spoke while he paced, trying to physically keep up with the speed and agility of his mental thought.
"What about an allergy? Or better yet a congenital heart defect that could be-" intejected Cameron once again, getting more animated with each word, thinking she had stumbled upon the answer.
"No family history of heart disease," cut-off Foreman as he scanned through the patient's file, "in fact, there's not much of anything listed in her charts except for a mild pollen allergy and seeing as its winter…"
"Its not worth looking into, got it," ended Chase, subconsciously rubbing his jaw line with his thumb to help him think.
A dull thud echoed throughout the room as House, having finally resigned himself to sitting, lazily bounced his cane against the ground and watched it absent mindedly.
The room fell into an uneasy and abnormal silence.
"C'mon, Dr. Aussie, Dr. Hood and….well, the blond," grumbled House, trying not to lose momentum, "think!"
"Environmental," said Cameron finally, "Where was she when she first suffered these symptoms?"
"Rome, actually," replied House with a condescending air building in his tone, "Nice to see that pretty little head of yours has a brain after all."
Cameron rolled her eyes as she processed a new piece of the puzzle.
"I take it that was the most recent attack?" pried Chase, knowing the game of omission House often liked to play with his team.
"And 10 points to Dr. Down-under, leaving Dr. Hood the only one who has yet to make it on the board!" continued House, apparently in an even more surly mood than usual today.
"She's had at least one episode every month for the past 8 months," chimed in Foreman, sliding the file across the table to his colleagues, "and I'm not playing your stupid game, House. This girl has been here for days, presented none of her alleged symptoms since she's been here and I'm hard pressed to believe that she didn't have some kind of bad reaction to some pot or something. She is an art student..."
Doing his best impression of Alex Trebek, House retorted, "That is correct, however, you forgot to put that in the form of a question. So sorry."
"What about panic attacks?" asked Cameron, finally, "Panic attacks would explain the stomach pain, heart arrhythmia and any confusion she may have experienced."
"And they would be brought on by any narcotics in her system at the time," agreed Chase, feeling confident a conclusion had been made at last.
Three sets of eyes turned to watch the caustic diagnostician as he grabbed the patient's file and skimmed through her information one more time.
"What could you possibly be looking for now?" asked Chase, thoroughly frustrated having found their only logical answer.
"The missing thread that you all failed to see," said House, triumphantly standing and walking through the door of his office. Chase, Cameron and Foreman took one glance at each other and promptly trailed after him at a brisk pace.
When the loyal followers arrived at Sophie LaCarte's room, they awestruck horror as her heart monitor beeped at an alarming rate and she began babbling through her gasping breaths. House merely stood his ground holding her Art History book open to Standhal's painting of concentric circles.
"The stars! They're falling to the earth and burning the room! Why won't you stop them?!" she screamed, beginning to pull her hair and behaving in a visibly upset manner. Her boyfriend, a deep russet skinned man with long dreadlocks did everything he could to keep the young woman in her bed, all the while glaring at the doctor that only stood there and held a book open to torture the woman he cared for.
"You're ruining her love for art! Close the damn book!" he yelled at House as he struggled to restrain his girlfriend.
Suddenly, and without any warning, she promptly went limp and fainted.
"House," began Cameron, emotionally shaken by this young girl's reaction.
"She has hyperkulturemia," said House, with a knowing glimmer in his eye as he casually shut the art book and limped forward to return it to the young man's hands. "She is literally panic stricken by the art that she loves so much."
A stunned silence fell over the room.
"You mean to tell me that my girlfriend, an art major at Princeton, is having panic attacks by looking at art?" asked the young man now standing by his girlfriend's bedside.
"Yup," was all House said as he turned and walked through the sliding glass door and headed back towards his office. Foreman pursued him, doubtlessly after some better explanation that he could relay to the concerned man at Sophie's bedside.
"Wow, I don't even know what to-" began Chase, glued to the spot, before Sophie's heart monitor began to beep erratically. Both doctors turned to the noise with a bit of confusion.
"We need a crash cart in here!" called Cameron as both her and Chase ran over to the young woman's side and pushed her boyfriend away from the bed.
"We've got V-tach over a panic attack?" asked Chase with disbelief.
He never noticed the bright flashes that intermittently illuminated the small room as Eric, Sophie's boyfriend began snapping candid shots of Cameron and Chase as they grabbed for gadgets, syringes and chemicals that would undoubtedly stabilize his girlfriend. He only heard the sliding door open and close (as nurses simultaneously rushed a crash cart into Sophie's room and escorted the photographer out) and he only saw a trail of crimson as it began to leak from Sophie's right ear.
[H] [H] [H]
House sat at his desk, holding a significantly emptier bottle of his favorite pain pills in one hand and the MRI scan of Sophie's head hours before they lost her.
Apparently Sophie's episode a few days ago resulted in her cracking her head against the marble floors of the art museum she had been in, but no one had deemed that necessary to share during the original consult. Even as House scanned the MRI over and over again with his own eyes, the shadow was practically invisible. However, if he hadn't dismissed it as a past injury, he would've known that it was a slow leak increasing pressure within Sophie's skull.
She had died from days of no one noticing the tiniest of brain hemorrhages.
House sighed, feeling the familiar numbness of his extra Vicodin boost slowly taking him away from the reality that he so desperately wanted to escape today. He had cleared the board and won his jackpot, but lost it all in Final Jeopardy.
House stood slowly, willing the ever present ache in his leg to disappear completely like it never did despite the amount of Vicodin he put into his system. He sighed and used the end of his cane to retrieve his scarf and jacket from the nearby coatwrack. He took his time as he wrapped his scarf around his neck and tugged on his jacket, still lost somewhere within a fantasy that involved correctly diagnosing Sophie's brain trauma and saving her life. However, House's desire to further impede reality with a good bottle of whiskey soon made him start towards the elevator and out to the hospital lobby.
As he left the building, his mind raced with different scenarios where he had noticed the shadow on Sophie's MRI. Although he would never outwardly admit it, House did care for his patients. Sure, he preferred the puzzle that they presented and he absolutely loved the satisfaction he felt once he knew his diagnosis was correct, but the guilt he felt over losing a patient was never easy on him. Only the physical pain in his leg and the Vicodin really helped him cope.
"She didn't have to die," he muttered aloud to no one in particular as he walked to his car.
"I know that, you son of a bitch," replied a voice.
With a sickening crack, House received a sharp blow to the back of the head, fell to the icy sidewalk and saw no more.
[H] [H] [H]
A/N: Well! This is my first crack at a House fanfic, so please bear with me if it takes a little while to get rolling. In any case, I hope you enjoy and I hope to see you next chapter. Please don't forget to R&R!
xoTrebleMaker