"You're not seriously considering riding home on that?" Wilson exclaimed as House gingerly headed over to his bike.

"I don't 'seriously consider' anything…and you should know that by now" House replied cheekily but still lacking in his usual bite; his head was killing him and Jiminy Cricket-Wilson wasn't helping.

"You're concussed"

"It took you how many years of medical training to come up with that – did the fact that I was knocked unconscious support that startling diagnosis Doctor?"

"You were out for over 15 minutes – that's grade 5 concussion"

"Thinking of changing professions Jimmy…didn't have you down as a Neurologist – the patients aren't needy enough." House teased as he tried to put his crash helmet on without aggravating the bump on his head; he couldn't do it, which annoyed him further, "Crap…." He sighed and looked over to Wilson who was doing his best to look angry by standing with his hands on his hips, "Oh you win, go and fetch your boringmobile – I'm not walking, it's not my fault you park 2 miles away from the hospital." He moaned.

Wilson smirked and walked off to get his car leaving House to concentrate on standing by his bike; 'Jesus, so dizzy…head is killing me – note to self: wear crash helmet when talking to disgruntled family members in the future' he thought as he braced himself against his bike waiting for Wilson to return.

Wilson didn't like the look of House when the headlights of his car showed the awkward way in which he was holding himself up; he watched House let go of his death grip on the bike and stumble over to his car. He was certain that he'd end up on his arse and felt strangely relieved when House managed to climb unsteadily into the passenger seat without assistance.

"Yell if you're gonna puke so I can pull over, just had the car valeted." Wilson explained as he noted House's sickly complexion. House groaned in response and proceeded to fiddle with Wilson's radio in an attempt to drown out his voice.

House made it the whole journey without retching, which impressed Wilson, especially after a particularly bumpy ride through construction works. It was only when they got out of the car that the dizziness caught him off guard and he staggered two steps away from Wilson's car, dropped to his knees and threw up over the pavement. Wilson winced sympathetically and helped his friend up, supporting him as they made their way to House's apartment.

"I don't remember concussion being this crappy" House moaned as he attempted to walk smoothly into his bedroom; any sudden movements were excruciatingly painful.

"Yeah, you must have the bad kind of concussion – not the good kind." Wilson said sarcastically whilst rolling his eyes.

"Cut the sarcasm…it doesn't suit you" House said weakly as he downed two Vicoden, hopefully it would dull the pain without making the room spin much faster.

Wilson entered the bedroom with some ice wrapped up in a towel, "for your face" he explained, causing House to give him a disbelieving look.

"I didn't hit my head that hard" He muttered as he took the towel and held it against his cheekbone, "okay…see you tomorrow"

"Actually I wasn't planning on leaving just yet" Wilson protested as House feebly attempted to push him away from the bed, "let me see"

House let Wilson prod the swollen area a few times, hoping that it would lead to him getting bored and going home…no such luck.

"It could be broken" Wilson acknowledged as he observed House flinch every time he pressed a certain part of the bruised area, "probably fractured…"

"You know contrary to popular belief, you do not have healing hands…so go home. It will still be 'probably broken' tomorrow." House urged, hoping Wilson would take the hint and leave; House had some important business involving spewing his guts up into the toilet, he didn't want an audience.

"Big baby" Wilson teased as he stood to leave, "take the next couple of days off and if you need anything just give me a call"

"Actually there are special numbers that I can call if I need anything" House hinted subtly as he transferred the towel of ice to the back of his head.

"I'm sure your hooker will be pleased when you throw up over her nice day glow dress"

"Actually she's a black dress kinda gal...at least I from what I can remember…don't recall her even wearing a dress last time she came over-" House said thoughtfully.

"Don't want to know!" Wilson shouted as he screwed up his face and backed out of the room, "just do what you usually do and take it easy" he added before exiting the apartment, leaving House slumped on his bed, his arm aching from holding the ice to the back of his head…

Meanwhile back at PPTH…

14 year old Andrew Howard sat in his hospital bed in the company of Cuddy; he was engulfed in telling her about his older brother who was in the army and was travelling the world. Cuddy was hypnotised by the young man's knowledge of foreign land, he brushed it off by explaining that he read a lot of books at home. She sighed when she realised that she really had to get home and sort out the paperwork that threatened to drown her; she had planned on leaving when Wilson and House had left earlier but she found herself drawn to the boy who had caused so much trouble that night, especially after she found out that his father had gone awol.

Surprisingly Andrew had guessed about why his father had not returned, "He's angry again isn't he – who'd he hit this time?"

"He was pretty angry; he hit your Doctor after he found out some news-"

"When he found out I've got cancer." Andrew interrupted, startling Cuddy; she hadn't realised that he knew he had cancer.

"How did you find out?"

"Dr House came by and explained it to me before my dad went looking for him."

"Dr House shouldn't have done that…" Cuddy began, trying to figure out why House continued to do things with the main motive to piss her off.

"My dad wanted to take me home, Dr House knew I was still sick – I'm glad he told me." Andrew said matter-of-factly.

"But your father said House hasn't been in to see you since you were admitted."

"I had to lie to him about that to get him to go and find Dr House so the other doctors could do a biopsy – it was part of our plan and it worked; he stormed off looking for him about 4 hours ago…so which doctor did he hit?"

"Dr House."

"Ouch, hope he doesn't find out that I had a part in setting him up" Andrew said looking slightly scared at the thought.

"I'm sure Dr House will take full responsibility for your actions…I'll make sure your father won't find out." She reassured him, hoping that for once House would take responsibility for his actions too.

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Cuddy saw that he looked like he needed to get to sleep, "get some rest, your treatment starts tomorrow." She said quietly as she gathered up her coat and briefcase; cursing herself for keeping him up when he should be preparing for the gruelling chemo he would be starting soon.

As she turned to leave she noticed Andrews heart monitor rising rapidly, she frowned and reached over to take his pulse, "Andrew-are you okay"

"…Tired…" he mumbled before his heart monitor flat lined.

"Need a crash cart in here!"

Author's note - Hope you liked that chapter? I'm trying to keep a balance between the focus on House and his patient; next chapter has more of Wilson and the ducklings. Reviews are more than welcome!