"Get up," House muttered to himself. It was already 10 a.m. and the prospect of clinic duty was not encouraging. Still, it was his job. There was a knock on the door. House groaned. If it was Wilson, he could let himself in. The knocking continued, followed by what sounded like a kick. After some scuffling noises, the door opened. House looked up from the couch and saw a young woman coming into the apartment, duffle bag in tow.
"Fight with lover boy again?" House smirked.
The woman grunted, went to the cabinet, poured a glass of whiskey, downed it, poured another, moved House's legs onto the coffee table, sat down, and started to drink the second.
House considered reminding her that it was before noon, but decided not to, rubbing his jaw absentmindedly, remembering that his little sister could pack quite a punch.
"And people think HE's the one that puts up with YOU." She said as she finished off the second glass.
Wilson suddenly appeared at the doorway, disheveled and out of breath.
"She's as crazy as you! I told her not to, but what does she do? Jumps out of the car while it's moving," he turned to the woman, "You could have at least waited until it was stopped if you were going to go off in a huff anyway. I said I was sorry, what more do you want from me?"
"If you can't do something just don't. Don't make excuses, don't apologize, don't pry. Just don't!"
"Aw, what happened? Had some performance trouble?" House quipped. He was beginning to thoroughly enjoy these spats between his best friend and his sister. At first he was weary at the prospect of the two dating, particularly because of Wilson's track record, but after a while, it became downright amusing.
"Shut up House!" Wilson spat.
"Don't you tell him to shut up!" she said, a threat in her voice.
"Fine, Kate. Run away, pout, don't talk. Just shut down and hole up just like him. You're not even around that long and you turn into him."
That did it. Before House could catch her, Kate was across the room with Wilson laid out on the floor. House scrambled to pull her off, still fighting.
"Enough! Whatever he said couldn't have been worth that," he reasoned, staring surprised at a stunned Wilson, who was trying to stop his bleeding lip.
"GET OUT! YOU HAVE NO RIGHT to…" her breath caught short as the room began to spin. "..to.." she tried to steady herself as she began to tremble. House looked at her, alarmed, more so as he stumbled to catch her as she fell and began to seize.
"Jimmy, help me!" he yelled, turning his sister's head to the side, holding her down.
Wilson grabbed his phone, called for an ambulance, alerted PPTH that they were on their way with a high profile patient and to get a private room ready.
"Here, hold her." House went to his desk, returned with a syringe and plunged it into her neck. After a few more seconds, she went limp, unconscious.
"What'd you do?" Wilson accusingly asked.
House glared back. "I should be asking you the same question."
She woke up in a hospital room, monitors softly beeping in the background. Two men sat on either side of the bed, one with his head in his hands, the other playing with a yo-yo. One was miserable, one was livid. Neither one spoke. She turned her head toward the latter and waited. He noticed her, went to the door, slammed his cane against it, causing Wilson to jump. Taking the hint, he quietly left the room, only to have the door slammed behind him, curtains pulled shut. House returned to the bedside, gave her a quick once-over, and sat down on the bed, holding her hand.
"You scared me." House admitted, his voice small.
"Oh come on, you know that smackdown was nothing." Kate croaked out, half-smiling.
House rolled his eyes, "When were you going to tell me you were sick?"
"That'd be assuming I knew before now. I don't even want to know what it was, or is, which yes, is probably spoiling your fun, but I'm too tired to try to translate Medical-nese into English, so at least save it until later."
He smiled. His eyes were soft and red. He knew she noticed, but also knew she would never point out that he'd been crying. It was unlike him, a thing that rarely if ever happened, and only then, he himself would have to be in the one in physical pain. Wilson had been more right that even he had known. Only it wasn't that she had turned into him, she had always been like him. The only difference, besides the obvious, was that she also had Wilson's qualities. The decent, caring, human side that so many people were sure that he lacked. But she knew better. She'd always known better and had always defended him to the world. Wilson was no exception. Guilt-ridden as he was, Wilson had admitted what had led up to his spilt lip. Nothing new, just what he really thought of his friend but rarely admitted out loud. Unfortunately for him, he hadn't known that Kate was the wrong person to admit it to. Kate looked up at her older brother admiringly. He told her to get some rest, she smiled, comforted, and went back to sleep. House smiled. For all those who thought he was jaded, sadistic, inhuman, etc., including himself at times, she thought the world of him. He was her older brother, her protector, her friend. Her hero. There wasn't anything he or anyone else could do to change that.