A/N: Hi! So I just want to start by saying this is my first time ever writing fan fiction. Any constructive criticism on any aspect of the story is greatly appreciated! This story is set in infarction era and fills in a lot of the details I feel were missed. It's also mostly House/Wilson but not in a romantic way. Enjoy!

P.S.- How often should I upload? I have around 11 chapters of this already written. Daily? Weekly?

1

"Sir. Sir, lie still."

He refused. He refused to do much of what anyone told him to do, but Wilson thought maybe this would be an exception since whenever his patients ignore his instructions, he called them stupid, or worse. But then again, when has House ever done anything anyone told him to do?

"You're going to have to lie down. It's not safe."

Still he sat, holding his leg. Finally, he spoke.

"Just...get off me...don't touch me. Just drive me to the hospital like you're supposed to. That's your job."

The paramedic sighed, seemingly giving up.

"Sorry about him…" Wilson offered, "He can be a bit of an ass."

"What happened?" the paramedic asked.

"Excuse me. Are you a doctor? I didn't think so. Shut up."

"House...just…" Wilson gave up. There was no point in arguing with him. He turned back to the paramedic. "We were golfing. He said his leg hurt about halfway through and that he thought he may have pulled a muscle, but it just kept getting worse throughout the round until he sorta just...fell over."

"I didn't fall over. I sat down on a bench."

"No, you fell and the bench caught you. Or, rather, I caught you and set you on the bench then called 911."

"Yup, you're a hero. Now stop telling the paramedic who's probably about 18 all my business."

"I'm 21…" the paramedic mumbled.

"And I'm 42. Now stop trying to be my doctor."

The paramedic sighed again. "It could be a heart attack. Do you have any chest pain, sir?"

House doesn't respond as another wave of pain hits him.

"House?" Wilson said, concerned.

House wincesd, face contorting into a grimace.

"House…" Wilson repeated, touching his back gently. "Are you OK? Where does it hurt?"

"My leg...dummy…" House managed.

"It's not your chest? No pressure?"

"I'm not having a heart attack…"

"Okay…" Wilson sighed. He'd have to wait for the EKG results. House had always been very healthy though; running to work every day, playing tennis or field hockey on the weekends…

Wilson snapped out of his trance as the ambulance pulled up at the hospital.

2

The paramedics lifted House onto a stretcher in the ER. Nurses and doctors swarmed around him, checking vitals and hooking up IVs. Wilson stood with Cuddy and Stacey, whom had met the pair at the hospital. House seemed claustrophobic with everyone around him, but he didn't say anything for once.

Stacey broke through the wall of medical personnel and touched House's arm.

"Greg?"

She was the only one that called him that, and the only one he'd tolerate it from. His eyes were closed and his face was twisted. He found Stacey's fingers and squeezed them. He must have squeezed a little too hard, because she winced. He slowly opened his eyes and looked at her.

"Go...back to work...I'm fine…"

"No, I'm staying. You'll be fine."

"That's exactly why...you need to go back to work…"

A nurse interrupted. "I'm sorry, we need to get him up to EKG now."

Stacey stepped back and let the nurse roll the stretcher to telemetry.