I do not own House M.D. or any of its characters.

Thank you for all of the positive feed back! I am very happy that you all like this story! But is there any thing that I could work on? I am always looking for a chance to get better at something.

House got into his clothes slowly and carefully. He put on a pair of blue jeans, Nike sneakers, a red T-shirt, and his worn leather motorcycle jacket. And...his cane. He limped out into the kitchen and was greeted by a plate of steaming pancakes covered with maple syrup.

He stared at it and realized he wasn't really as hungry as he thought he had been. He fiddled with them with his fork under Wilson's disapproving gaze.

"Come one," said Wilson, "They're your favorite."

House shook his head, "Not hungry."

Wilson sighed, "If you think that you are going to eat all of my lunch today, your wrong."

House looked up with an expression of fake surprise, "Wilson, I'm hurt."

Wilson rolled his eyes. He knew better than to argue with House so he dumped the carefully made pancakes into the trash.

House raised his eyebrows, "Are you on a diet?"

"What? No I'm-"

"Yes you are. Any other day you would have eaten those pancakes happily. And," he gestured to the container on the table, "Light butter. How can anyone not on a diet eat Light butter. Is this for-"

"Maybe. And no we are not having relationship problems. She is just visiting her sister in North Carolina."

House shrugged, "Suite yourself."

After about an hour more of chatting the two made their way downstairs. Wilson got into his car and House got on his motorcycle.

"Race you to the hospital!" called out House as he sped away.

It turned out that House had one. He limped into the lobby and headed toward the elevator. The doors opened and he stepped in. He was a little disappointed that Cuddy had not come out and greeted him. But then he remembered the crane disaster. There was probably a mountain high stack of papers waiting for Cuddy to fill out.

He had almost forgotten about that Monday. He pushed the button and the doors closed. He could feel the elevator lurch up. House looked all around there was nothing but wall. Then all of a sudden images of his dream came back to him. The elevator walls were closing in on him!

Shit, shit, shit! He pressed on just about every button he could find. The space was getting tighter and tighter. He banged against one of the walls, "Help!"

All of a sudden the elevator doors opened with a ping and House found himself standing just were he had been when he got in. He quickly limped away from the elevator and into the room were his team was. They were all sitting at the table half asleep.

House cleared his throat, "Good morning my ducklings!"

No one responded. After the case with the crane operator they all had to help out with the injured in the accident. It was nothing but a day and a half of constant work. Only an hour here or there on one of the benches kept them from passing out.

House furrowed his eyebrows. Not because his team didn't answer him but because one of them was missing, "Where's Thirteen?"

Taub spoke up, "She's taking some time of from work. She left a letter on your desk."

House limped over to his office and ripped open her letter. It didn't say much but he knew what it was for. He threw it in the trash and limped back to his remaining team, "So do we have a case or is it just going to be nap time all day?"

Foremen sighed, "We are going to have no cases today. Do you know how many surgeries we all have to perform? A lot."

Then House's pager rang. He looked at it, "Of course give me the first one."

He started limping toward the elevator but then stopped. He did not want to go over this mornings ordeal. House glanced down at his leg. Surely it would be able to withhold a couple flights of stairs. He gripped his cane tighter and headed toward the staircase.

So there you have it, chapter 2. Have any thoughts, opinions, ideas? If you do I am always open to them.