By the time Wilson arrived on the fourth floor House's team was already discussing the case. Since they missed the actual case file House had written down the symptoms on the white board.
Wilson entered without knocking and slammed the blue folder on the table.
"You want to meet me in your office or do you want to explain this right here in front of everyone?", he asked House.
House turned around and shrugged. "I don't mind the company. See, Jimmy, when a mummy loves a daddy they usually vanish into their bedroom and…."
"HOUSE!", Wilson interfered. "What are you doing? The guy doesn't need a diagnosis, he needs a new kidney. There is no mystery in this case except for his brother."
Now the team was interested and focused on the conversation.
House seemed uncomfortable with the direction this conversation was going. "Yeah, and kidneys just stop working one day. There is certainly no underlying cause. I mean maybe it could help that I got a specialty in nephrology, who knows", House said in his sarcastic tone.
Wilson nodded. "Ok, you world class nephrologist. How comes you didn't even order a simple tox screen? Afraid of finding an answer for the patient before you get all the answers you want from the brother?"
House looked pissed. "And why are you so upset about it? You told me I should deal with my problems. Sharing thoughts with other crip…, handicapped people could actual help me."
"I'm worried about him. He deals with a dying brother. Leave him alone. You can annoy him after you saved the patient. Then he will be grateful and tell you everything you want to know."
"Great idea. If only I could concentrate on my job, but there is this oncologist who's driving me nuts with his advices", House snapped.
Wilson raised his hands to signal his surrender. "Alright, I'm out of here. Be patient for once, House. You'll get your answers", he told his friend and left.
House tried to avoid the questioning looks on his fellow's faces.
"Taub, go and run a tox screen. Rest of you go and figure out if there's any chance to save his kidneys. I'll be getting a decent family history."
Sam was sitting in his brother's room. Andrew didn't look too good.
"What did you do last night?", Sam asked him.
Andrew looked ashamed. "I can't remember. I'm so sorry I ruined the funeral for you."
"You should have been there, too. After all he was your brother."
"I'm your brother. And just two hours ago you wanted me dead", Andrew rejected.
"I was angry at you because I thought you were just hungover. I'm sorry."
They were interrupted by Taub, Foreman and Chase.
"Sorry, we have to run some tests. Maybe you should wait outside", Foreman said after they had introduced themselves.
Sam nodded and got his cane. He didn't miss the doctors' questioning looks that followed him and especially his leg while he crossed the room. "See you later, Andi!", he said and smiled at him.
The smile vanished from his face immediately when he saw that nut job doctor standing outside the room. He stopped and turned around.
"What is it with that guy?", he asked and pointed at House.
"That's our boss. He's a jerk but he's a very good doctor", Chase explained.
"So why is the genius doctor outside and you guys –no offence- are in here treating my brother? I'd prefer it the other way around."
"Trust me, we are a good team and we'll figure this out", Foreman told him.
Sam left the room and sat down on a bench nearby. He tried to ignore House but he followed him and took a seat.
"What sort of drugs is your brother on?", he asked him immediately.
Sam looked surprised. "What does this tell you about my leg?"
House smirked.
"I decided to play by the rules and keep the deal. I fix your brother first."
He grabbed Sam's cane and held it next to his own.
"Turning this into "who's got the longest?", Sam wondered.
House frowned. "No, but I win! So, about the drugs?"
Sam sighed.
"He drinks too much. Recently he told me he's been clean for half a year but I never knew what drugs he was on. Probably everything he could get his hands on."
"Like painkillers?", House asked.
Sam shrugged. "Like I said I don't know what he could find."
"Ever missed something from your medicine cabinet at home?", the interrogation went on.
"I'm not on painkillers!", he explained.
"You sure?"
Sam rolled his eyes. "Why would I? I mean, I take an aspirin when I got a headache but that's it. "
House got his own pills out and swallowed a Vicodin.
"So, no painkillers after your surgery four weeks ago?"
"Look, my brother moved in with me only two weeks ago. By that time the pain was already gone."
"Ok, if you don't want to help me, fine. The tox screen will reveal it anyway", House mumbled.
Sam took his cane back from House who didn't resist.
"There's probably some acetaminophen left from my recovery. I don't know if I miss any of them. I wasn't home in three days", Sam told him eventually.
Suddenly Foreman approached them to talk to his boss. House got up and followed him a couple of steps.
"We put him on dialysis but we have to hurry. He's jaundiced because his liver gives in."
House cocked his head and thought about this new information.
"Interesting. I think we can skip the tox screen results. Find out if we can save the liver. Give him acetylcysteine to clean out the kidneys."
Foreman frowned. "Won't that damage the liver even more?"
"Doesn't matter. The liver is gone anyway. It's acetaminophen poisoning. Might help to save as many organs as possible."
House turned around to go on with the interrogation but his victim had disappeared.
While the doctors still treated Andrew and that House guy was busy with his fellow, Sam took the opportunity to find some coffee in the cafeteria. Unfortunately he ran into another curios doctor.
"Excuse me. I know this is inappropriate but can I ask you a question about your leg?", he was asked by the guy standing behind him in line.
"This place is a nut farm!", Sam thought and turned around.
He looked at the name tag on the lab coat. "Why would an oncologist be interested in my leg, Dr. Wilson?"
"I'm not interested as a doctor but as a friend."
"You are not my friend", Sam stated.
"True", Wilson admitted. "Let me buy you some coffee and I'll explain."
"Whatever", Sam mumbled. They got their coffee and sat down at a table.
"See, Dr. House is my friend and I get it he is treating your brother at the moment", Wilson explained.
"Although I get the feeling he shows more interest in my leg. Seems to be a common attitude in this hospital."
"I think he's just curious wether you suffer from the same condition and if you do how you make it through your days", Wilson told him.
"I told him about my knee but still he won't let it go", Sam told him.
"That's probably because he can tell your story isn't true. The way you walk with this cane. Even I can tell it's not your knee that got damaged.
Sam sighed.
"Alright. What's the problem with his leg? If it's the same I got then I talk to him about it", he suggested.
Wilson thought about it. Finally he agreed and told him about House's infarction and the chronic pain that had turned him into an addict.
Sam kept a straight face throughout the entire story. Wilson was usually a talented mind reader but even he couldn't tell whether he hit a nerve or not.
When he was done Sam took the last sip of his coffee and got up.
"Sad story. Poor guy. No wonder he's a jerk. But I can't help you there. I'm not a drug addict and I'm not in pain."
He was about to leave but Wilson held him back.
"But you could tell him you were in pain."
Sam turned around. "What for?"
"To show him that there is a way to handle this without Vicodin."
"You want me to lie to your friend so he feels even crappier about being an addict as he probably already does? Nice friendship you guys have there", Sam told him.
"The Vicodin will sooner or later destroy him. I'm just trying to help him", Wilson defended himself.
"He's a doctor. I guess he knows what's to know about his condition and possible treatments."
"House has no problem with lying. And this could be useful", the oncologist tried again.
"Well I do. And by the way, I got a dying relative up there. So if you excuse me, I'd rather deal with my own problems right now. Thanks for the coffee."
He left the table and the oncologist and went back upstairs.
Andrew's condition got worse. They could save his kidneys but the liver damage was worse than expected. The acetaminophen had been working in his body for about three days and had now finally shot his liver. He needed a liver transplant. So when Sam returned to Andrew's room, House was already awaiting him.
They ended up on the bench outside the room again.
"Did your brother ever try to kill himself?", House started this time.
"What?"
"Many patients with acute liver failure show intoxication with acetaminophen. And many of them do this on purpose. Maybe he was just sick and tired of being the looser in your family. He whined about your dead brother to my fellows. And then he is all alone because he even made his little brother leave his own place. He finds these pills in the bathroom maybe he was drunk or on drugs…."
Sam looked frightened. "I don't know. I can't tell you much about him. I lost track of him many years ago. Ever since he just showes up in my life at his worst points."
"Well, it doesn't really matter. He shot his liver and needs a new one. Problem is the people who make these decisions are not really keen on giving healthy livers to drug addicts or alcoholics."
"I told you I don't know about his drug use", Sam told him.
"We'll know in a couple of hours. We finally ran the tox screen."
"I could give him part of my liver. It's possible to transplant a part of it, right? We have the same blood typ. That's a good start."
House smirked."If you are a match it would be possible but not for you."
"Why not?"
"Well, I guess you will need your liver yourself. See, painkillers are fun because they take away the pain but they also leave a mess behind in your body. You really want to have a healthy liver when it comes to opiates."
Sam rolled his eyes.
"I am not in pain!", he yelled, "Look, I feel sorry for you and your damaged leg. Must be really hard to live in pain all the time. But you and I, those are two different stories, so please let it go."
"Who told you about my leg?", House wanted to know now with an angry expression on his face.
"If I tell you can we go on with figuring out whether I can donate a part of my liver to Andrew?"
House nodded.
"Good. I forgot his name but he's definitely working in oncology…"
"Wilson!", House mumbled and got up. "I send one of my fellows to draw some blood while I go kill my friend."
"You told that guy about my leg?", House started after he bursted into Wilson's office without knocking.
The oncologist looked up from his file.
"He told you?", he asked. He understood why Sam refused to lie to House but why would he rattle him out?
House shrugged. "Why wouldn't he? All he wants is his brother to stay alive, he doesn't give a crap about us and our weird friendship."
"Funny. All of a sudden you give a crap about his feelings. Probably not while you were interrogating him about his leg", Wilson mumbled.
"So did you. And you have no right whatsoever to do this. I'm
curious because I'm a cripple myself. You annoyed him because you had to feed your addiction for neediness because you think you can help me."
Wilson looked confused but he had to agree with House. Damn!
"How about we both leave him alone and you concentrate on the brother?", the oncologist suggested.
"Last time you told me to stay away from him you approached him yourself half an hour later!", House blamed him.
"Well, how could I resist? I need the neediness, remember?", Wilson snapped.
House smiled. "Fine, we leave him alone", he said and left the office.
Wilson was sure this meant trouble. Whenever House agreed with him he had to be cautious.
I'm not a doctor, so the medical facts might not be accurate.
Thank you for reading! Reviews are welcome. :-)