The Ex-Files
Greg House sat at his desk deep in thought. It was a rainy spring evening and he and his team had just finished another case. They had all dispersed and went their separate ways, to meet up once again next morning. Wilson had left too, off to meet Sam at the loft for dinner and a DVD. House looked over the file from this last case as he rubbed his thigh through his crumpled jeans. His leg was hurting. Again. He didn't want to chance riding his bike home in the rain while in pain. And besides, he wasn't looking forward to the site that awaited him. Wilson and the ex laughing at some lame chick flick she had picked out. So House sat instead at his dimly lit desk, glasses perched down near the tip of his nose, staring intently at this file. And as he did his thoughts wandered.
Jordan Antipasto… Antibellum…Antolinni, whatever, was brought in the ER with cardiac arrest. Thirteen in her haste had called the wife from a number in Antipasto's wallet. Turns out she was actually the EX-wife, but still showed up at the hospital oozing with concern for Antibellum. House had heard her profess her undying love for the guy as she thought he lie dying from a yet unknown cause. As House and the team worked on a diagnosis, she questioned each procedure out of her "love" for dear Antifreeze. When House finally had his epiphany and correctly identified hyperkalemia as the cause of his troubles and started him on insulin and intravenous calcium, Ms. Ex began to change her tune. No longer the devoted 'nursemaid' she'd been since Thirteen had called her, she now simply gave Antifungal a nip on the cheek and was on her way.
House couldn't help but compare Antimatter and Ms. Ex to Wilson and Number One Ex. Ms. Ex once again walked out on Antioxidant. How long until Number One Ex did the same with Wilson? House knew he should let it go. But he couldn't. Why did it bother him so much? He sat staring at his oversized tennis ball trying to decipher his thoughts. Or was he actually trying to push them out of his mind? One thing kept creeping into his mind. Something he did not want to think about. The one thing he knew connected Antiviral and Wilson in his mind. And perhaps one of the reasons this whole situation with Wilson bothered him so much. It reminded him of another relationship. A relationship based on trust. Trust that was shattered with dead muscle tissue and an unnecessary operation. House had to admit it, if only to himself. This all reminded him of Stacy. And what she had done to him. He did not want that for his best friend. He did not want Wilson to go through the pain that he had The emotional pain. It added to his leg pain and made that time after the infarction much harder to deal with. After Amber, Wilson was not ready for more emotional pain. House promised himself he would keep an eye on this situation for Wilson. And yes, for himself too.
It had finally stopped raining. And House's thigh was feeling better. 'It was now or never.' he thought to himself as he grabbed his jacket and backpack and headed for the garage. As he left, he reached over and turned off the desk lamp. His arm brushed over a piece of paper he had left on his desk. House had scribbled something on it as he had been deep in thought. Something he first remembered using after his break up with Stacy. It was just two small words. Everybody Lies.
