AN – Hey everybody, I'm back! I recently started watching House and am now completely hooked, so naturally the first thing I did was start writing fanfiction for it. I hope you enjoy this piece, I'm aiming for it to be a multi-chapter fic (5 or more I'd say) and I'll keep it updated as much as I can. There will be some definite House!Whump ahead, so don't like, don't read.

Disclaimers: I don't own the show, the characters etc. Also, all medical phenomena referenced are at least partially researched, but please don't hold me to standards of complete accuracy. I'm doing my best, but plotline is more important to me than precision. Anyway, enough about me, on with the story!

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It had been an absolutely gruelling day. The team had been running back and forth between the patient's room and the lab for hours trying to isolate the disease causing a young woman's bizarre cocktail of symptoms, with very little success. Even House, who would ordinarily retreat to his office and leave his minions to carry out his bidding, was forced to join them in running tests, knowing that they were rapidly running out of time to save the woman's life and that everybody's involvement was needed.

After almost three days of working tirelessly, the team were eventually able to diagnose Lymphangioleiomyomatosis and put the woman on the transplant list in urgent need of a new lung, with help from Wilson and Cuddy. When news of a lung becoming available reached the diagnostics room, everyone was able to breathe a sigh of relief and could finally head home for some welcome rest.

As they were making their way towards the elevator, Wilson noticed that House was leaning heavily on his cane, his limp much more pronounced than usual. He turned to his friend in concern, knowing that the diagnostician had been on his feet for much longer than he was used to over the past few days and had probably aggravated his injury.

"House, are you okay?" he asked as they made their way along the corridor.

"Why wouldn't I be? The girl was saved, I was right, and Chase now owes me another 50 bucks," the doctor replied with his usual sarcastic grin.

"That's not what I meant. Your leg, is it hurting you?"

"My leg is always hurting me."

"More than usual? You look like you can barely walk."

"I'm fine, Wilson," House responded dismissively. "I've been popping Vicodin like tic-tacs, I can hardly feel it." But Wilson didn't miss the grimace of pain that flashed across his friend's face when he took another step. He knew it would scarcely be out of the ordinary for House to hide his pain; the man refused to give others a chance to feel sorry for him, and would always choose to brave it alone instead.

Before Wilson could say anything further, he was interrupted by Chase and Cameron as they appeared from around the corner.

"We've locked up the lab," Chase informed them, "nothing more to do here."

Cameron noticed that something was off between the older two doctors and asked, "is something the matter?"

"Nothing," House replied quickly. "We were just off to find some nice hookers." Not particularly in the mood for conversation, he turned and started shuffling towards the elevator, leaving the other three doctors watching him in confusion.

"Is it just me or is his leg…" Chase began, before he was hastily cut off by Wilson.

"Don't," the oncologist warned in a hushed tone, but he was not quiet enough to prevent House from hearing him.

"I may be a cripple, but I'm not deaf," the man shot back over his shoulder, still continuing to limp away as he did so.

Wilson sighed. "We're worried about you, House." He knew it would be futile to try and get a confession of pain out of his friend, but he was going to attempt it anyway.

House, as predicted, simply brushed the comment off. "For God's sake, there's nothing to be worried about," he replied in irritation. "I'm fine." But as soon as he had finished speaking, he took another step and collapsed.

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House's leg had been screaming at him for days. He could feel what was left of his muscles rebelling against every movement, but he did his best to ignore it and carry on. Vicodin was barely touching the pain, so he had no choice but to try not to think about it, choosing to occupy himself instead with the puzzling diagnosis his team were working on.

When the case was finally concluded, he wanted nothing more than to go home, knock himself out with whatever medication he could find in his cabinet and sleep through the worst of the pain, but his colleagues seemed to be determined to badger him for as long as possible. Wilson in particular was unable to take the hint and drop the matter, so House decided to just walk away, desperate to be left alone. He was almost at the elevator when he felt fire shooting through his leg, the limb buckled and he fell to the floor.

Immediately, the other three doctors ran down the corridor towards their fallen colleague. House watched them approach through blurred vision, his head swimming, the hospital jumping about in front of him. "He's bleeding!" Cameron exclaimed, noticing a large gash on the back of House's head where it had impacted the floor.

"Are you sure you're fine?" teased Wilson as he knelt down to check the head wound. "Not too deep, you'll probably just have a nasty concussion for a few days. As for your leg…" He moved his hands over House's mangled thigh, but withdrew them quickly when the action elicited a cry of pain. "We'll need to…"

"Inject morphine into the spine," House finished for him. "I know. I went to medical school." He gritted his teeth as another wave of pain ran through his leg. "Do it quickly."

Cameron hurried off down the hall to retrieve the morphine, while Wilson and Chase manoeuvred House onto his side and pulled up his shirt to prepare for the injection. House was practically screaming as he was rolled over, not knowing how much more of the pain he could take before he passed out. As he lay on the cold floor, he could see darkness creeping in at the corner of his vision, threatening to drag him down into unconsciousness, but before he could succumb, the world was rapidly brought back into focus by the sharp stab of a needle into his spine. He cried out in protest, clenching his fist tightly at his side as the needle was pushed into his spinal canal. He felt the morphine flooding into his system, destroying the last of his strength. No longer able to fight to stay conscious, he closed his eyes and passed out.

Chase swore under his breath as he saw House's head fall back and loll against the floor, clearly unconscious. "He's out. What do we do with him?"

"We'll have to book him in," replied Cameron. "There's no way we can take him home in this condition."

"He'll be so thrilled," Wilson muttered. "Alright, let's get him up to the inpatient ward. Put him on oxygen, IV morphine, saline, the works. Give him the full dose of morphine. His leg will be in spasm for days, let's try and get him to sleep through most of that."

"You know he'd kill us if he knew we were doing this for him," Chase commented.

Wilson smiled at the truth of that statement. "Well, let's be glad he's unconscious." He rose from the floor and glanced around, trying to see if there were any orderlies about to help them move House to the ward. Unable to see anyone in the dimly lit halls, he sighed, realising that almost all the hospital staff would have gone home for the evening. Rather than running around trying to find the few people who were left, it would be easier to transport House themselves. "Right then, let's get moving. Chase, Cameron, see if you can find a gurney. I'll wait here, make sure no one tramples him in the dark."

The younger doctors nodded before hurrying off towards the supply room down the corridor, hoping it would contain what they needed. As he watched them go, Wilson knelt down again beside House, worried by his friend's ashen complexion. The diagnostician's injury causing him pain was hardly new, but it rarely affected him to this extent. Wilson was concerned that there might be a more serious problem at the root of all of this, though he wouldn't know until he'd had time to run some tests.

As he started theorising about the possible cause of House's problems, his thoughts were interrupted by Chase and Cameron returning with a gurney in tow. They removed the backboard and placed it on the ground next to House, gently rolling the doctor onto it and strapping him down before lifting him onto the trolley. Wilson helped them wheel the gurney into the elevator and up to the inpatient ward, where they carefully transferred House into a bed and began hooking him up to all the necessary equipment. Finally, once their work was completed, they were able to step back and observe their handiwork. House's pulse monitor was beeping away steadily, his heartrate slightly elevated but regular, and the nasal cannula was supplying him with a continuous flow of oxygen. The IVs attached to his arms dispensed the morphine required to keep him unconscious while the worst of the pain ebbed, alongside a host of other vital fluids. Satisfied that there was nothing more to be done at present, the doctors decided that it was time for them to go home at last, craving some much-needed rest. As Wilson was heading out of the ward, he stopped by the nurses' station, leaving the nurse on duty with strict instructions to keep an eye on his valued friend and colleague.

AN – I hope you guys enjoyed the first chapter, please let me know what you thought of it. Reviews are my food! There will be more chapters up soon, I have several ideas for where I want to go with this story so hopefully it won't take too long to write Chapter 2. See you soon, my friends!