Author's note: I am intentionally writing the worst fan fiction story of all time. Please send me messages on how to make this worse.
Summery: When Superman falls ill there is only one man on the planet who might be capable of helping him, but is Dr. House up to the challenge? Is he even interested? So, here goes nothing. AU, crossover, OOC, and every other label available. No slash though. Hmmm. Wonder if I could do something about that.
"This just isn't happening. I mean, they don't expect. I can't. Nobody really thinks that I—help me out here please." Dr. Gregory House stuttered.
"Well, you say you're the best, so why not try it out? Seriously what's the worst thing that could happen?" Dr. James Wilson responded with a cheeky smile.
"Having to deal with Human patients is bad enough, but I can do that. I know whatever there is that I need to know in order to do it, but this. This is very different. He's different. I don't know the first thing about him." Dr. House limped back to his desk and picked up his Gameboy. He sat down and switched it on.
"I think that's why Cuddy told you to take a history. That would be the first step in treating any patient. Just go in there and talk to him." Dr. Wilson shifted his position, so that his eyes were looking to the door.
"This is insane. I'm not going to be Superman's doctor. There are at least a million things wrong with this situation." House ignored him. He'd discovered after many years that this was the best way to deal with his friend.
"Nobody has any idea what to do with this. You're not exactly the kind of doctor he would choose. But he's desperate. And nobody else knows what to do."
"It would certainly be something, wouldn't it? I mean, even if he does die, it would still really be something. To get to work on a puzzle of this difficulty. I just—how exactly are we supposed to take blood samples from this guy?"
"As of right now that's not an issue. His body seems to be weakened enough by the—whatever this is—that we have been able to take some blood. Unfortunately . . ." House cut him off.
"The results are inconclusive. He's not human and therefore all he signs we look for in human illness mean absolutely nothing. Right?" Wilson nodded. Days like this, House wished he'd stayed at home instead of coming into work. This really was going to be something. At least he had that to look forward to. House stood up and limped out of his office and towards the patient's room.
"You're going to talk to him? You're actually going to have a conversation with him? This I have to see." Dr. Wilson could remember the last time that House had done something to actually amaze him. He was often disgusted, surprised, angered, but almost never amazed. He followed his friend into the hallway and watched as he entered the hospital room. There was a bed, with a fairly normal looking patient, that is if you consider an alien dressed in brightly colored tights normal.
