Mr. Gregory House, a man with an attitude as bad as his limp, was sitting in his office, surrounded by glass walls. He had just gotten a new case, something about some kid who would stop breathing for no apparent reason at any given time.

He frowned. The girl didn't have asthma or any of the other several types of respiratory problems his brain could conjure up, and she was perfectly healthy otherwise. There were a few bruises on her body, which were either from rough pre-teenage sex or domestic abuse.

After meeting the girl, he figured the latter. She was very tense and very shy. She didn't like to look people in the eye and felt horribly uncomfortable in the paper gown she was forced to wear. Her parents were no help, screaming at her to "look at the doctor when he's speaking" or "answer that question" and things like that. Not normal, loving parent behavior when their daughter is in the hospital. On another note, the mother didn't cry. He had never seen a mother not cry when her child is in the hospital.

The blue eyed man twisted his black and flame cane in his hand, giving them something to do as he thought. If she was being abused, he would have to do something about it. Sure, he had been awakened to the harsh reality that he wanted everyone to suffer with him, but she was kid, for God's sake! If her parents were drunken assholes, he'd have to intervene. He was a doctor, not a cop, but to let such a case go would be inhumane.

Sure, House had been accused of being such, but he would never leave his patient out in the cold.

He stood and walked to the room of the young girl. Her name was Francine, which was the first step to seeing that her parents hated her. Who names their
daughter Francine anymore?

He limped inside. Her parents' heads snapped up with surprise. Francine was crying, but attempted to wipe the tears away before he could see them. House raised an eyebrow and walked closer to the bed.

"Hi," he yelled.

"H-hello," the mother stuttered.

"Mrs. Folley," House began in the same annoyingly loud voice, "how are you today?"

"Fine." She rubbed her eyes as if she were wiping away a tear. House knew she hadn't been crying.

House turned his head to Francine. "And you?" His voice was less loud as he spoke to the young girl.

She stared down at her blanket and whispered, "fine."

House moved his tongue around inside his mouth as he thought of what to say next. "Alright. That's all I wanted to know. " He tuned to leave but quickly tuned back to to Mr. and Mrs. Folley. "You're daughter hasn't been cooperating. If you don't make her cooperate, we'll have to hold off the tests. That will cost more." He walked out and turned the corner and stopped. He pressed his back against the wall and listened.

"You little shit!" followed his exit and Francine's father scolded her in a low voice. "You better do as those doctors say, do you hear me? We're kind enough to pay for everything, so don't you dare make it cost more for us!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" The apology came in short gasps and sobs and then stopped altogether as her breathing stopped.

House rushed in behind a few nurses who began putting a tube down her throat, attempting to open it. Her throat was too tightly closed to get the tube through.

Something beeped behind House and Francine began seizing.

"Leave," House commanded.

A nurse looked up, her face bewildered.

"Not you," House told her, his voice annoyed. "Do your job." He turned to the girl's parents. "You. Leave."

"We can't leave!" her father shouted.

"You're causing her panic attacks, so leave. If you don't I'll call security."

Her mother and father exchanged glances and reluctantly left the room. A few seconds later, Francine's throat opened enough for the nurses to get the tube through.

--

A few minutes passed and the girl was breathing evenly, although she was out cold. When they were sure everything was fine, the nurses left, leaving House to watch her. They had taken the tube out of her throat but replaced it with a ventilator for fear her breathing would stop.

House rubbed his temples. He had no idea what to do.

Francine's eyes fluttered open. When she remembered where she was, they widened with fear and began searching the room frantically.

House sat next to the bed. "Are you feeling better?"

Francine turned to him, crying slightly. She said nothing, but she didn't have to, because House had a question for her.

Before he could ask, Cuddy walked in with Francine's parents behind her.

"Doctor House! Did you threaten to call security on them?" she asked.

"Did they say I did?" House retorted.

"Yes!" Cuddy replied.

"Then it must have happened, huh?"

"House, why would you do that?"

He didn't answer while he contemplated whether to tell Cuddy that he suspected abuse. "She was having a panic attack. Parents usually are the cause of those things. I just wanted to get her breathing again so she wouldn't, you know, die." His tone was sarcastic as it usually was. However, thins time he was just trying to keep his suspicion hidden from the Folleys. They couldn't know just yet what he had deduced.

Then, House turned to the parents. "You never told us she seized, too."

Her parents looked at each other and Francine's father said, "we didn't th-"

"You lied," House accused.

"House! My office. Now!" Cuddy demanded through clenched teeth.

House stood up, but he felt like he had caught his jacket on something. He turned to see Francine holding him back, her eyes wide with fear.

House turned to Cuddy. "No."