White Rabbit
Disclaimer: House M.D. and any of its affiliates do not belong to me. I wonder if you can buy shares though...
A/N: This is not my normal thing, so I'ma bit nervous about posting it. I probably wouldn't bother to read it if I was you
The hospital halls were quiet, in contrast to the harshly bright lights that were still on, even at this time. Foreman walked quietly, feeling the oddness of the late hour. He had just finished scrubbing down from surgery- one that had taken longer than was anticipated due to the patient's unfortunate neglect in mentioning his heart condition that had given the anaesthetist hell.
Foreman had been assisting Dr. Black, and had really admired the man's extreme patience with the surgery. He wasn't a brilliant surgeon, but he had steady hands and a good eye, and Foreman found himself comparing the man to House, as he seemed to do with everyone these days. He wondered what it would be like to work for a normal, respectable doctor.
It was true that House had a reputation known throughout most of the major hospitals in the States. Unfortunately, it was a reputation for extreme arrogance, rudeness and a hatred of the very people he was meant to be helping. It thoroughly eclipsed any redemption House may have garnered from the fact that he would pull patients back from the brink more often than not. That's how it seemed to Foreman at least.
Foreman had watched his boss closely, and to his growing irritation, was yet to see why it was most of House's patients survived. The man wouldn't even enter a room with them. He just sat back and pushed his team until they came up with an answer for him. No agonising, no deliberation, and no self-doubt. House was the definition of hubris, and it pissed Foreman off. You couldn't use a bad leg as an excuse for a permanent bad mood and sharp tongue.
He had no doubt that if House had been the one performing that surgery, he would have thrown down his scalpel and left the moment the patient's heart problem had become apparent. The man had no tolerance for anything, and no dedication to duty. The young doctor caught himself as his thoughts became more heated. That was yet another thing that annoyed him about House- he was excellent at getting him riled up, even when not present.
Taking a deep breath as he walked, Foreman calmed himself and dropped his thoughts of House. They would do no good. Leaning his shoulder on the glass door of the conference room, he pushed it silently open, entering the dark room. He didn't bother with the lights, moving to his desk to pick up his things so he could finally head home.
Gathering up what was required, he turned to go when a light caught the corner of his vision. Moving with a quiet stealth, he slid towards House's office, until he could see where the man sat at his desk, eyes fixed on the computer screen. Blue light cast a haggard look over his features, and for a moment, Foreman was slightly stunned by the image presented.
With no one around, House had dropped pretences, and snarky irritability. He sat, almost past midnight, scrolling through online catalogues and journals, searching.
Now Foreman saw the doctor behind the man. He was tired, and he had no idea what was ailing their patient, but he would not go home until he had found something. It was a strange contrast to House's daylight façade, and suddenly everything fell into place. This was just a symptom of House's brilliance, his obsession, but it made sense. All of it. The cockiness, the seemingly snap diagnoses. House agonised all right. He just didn't do it in public.
Sighing silently, Foreman left. For someone that made very sure that everyone knew who was in charge and on top, it was odd that he did not wish to let people see the dedication he put into his job. Regardless, Foreman would respect his unspoken wishes. No one would learn of this late night search.
And no one ever did. But the next morning, when House popped his head in to the conference room and pulled out the answer like a rabbit out of a hat, Foreman saw, and understood. House's carelessness was nothing more than a clever sleight of hand.
The End.