Everybody Lies
Chapter 3
House grinned as he looked at his chrono. In only a minute he would be able to leave this horrible day in the clinic behind. It's about time, House thought. He picked up his cane, walked over to the door and peeked outside to make sure Cuddy wasn't in sight. Success! He quickly limped out the door and walked through the clinic until he reached the lobby. He only had a few more steps to go, when he heard his name being called. He stopped and looked at the speaker. Of course, it was Wilson.
Dr. Jame Wilson was House's best friend, to be more specific House's only friend. For reasons which House couldn't comprehend Wilson refused to be shocked by House's comments and actions and was the only being who actually wanted to be associated with him. Wilson understood House's peculiar sense of humor and could contend with it easily.
"Wilson," House said giving a slight nod to his friend.
"I heard you got another patient to sue you." Wilson replied.
"The fifth one this year, I'm setting a record!" House declared with glee as he shot another hypo full of Vicona into his arm. House closed his eyes briefly as the narcotic quickly took affect.
"In case you haven't noticed House, that doesn't impress anyone."
"Neither does that lab coat," House commented with a snort looking at Wilson's highly professional look. House was technically required to wear a lab coat as well, but it was one of many rules he chose to ignore.
Wilson rolled his eyes. "By the way, your staff is looking for you. Said they have a new case."
"Too bad for them," House replied. "I'm leaving." And he walked out the doors to where his speeder bike was parked in a handicapped spot.
Wilson, who followed House snorted when he saw House mount the bike and place his cane into a slot built into it. "You know you're going to kill yourself," he said. "I fully expect you're going to self destruct one of these days."
"Then it's nice to know you'll be picking up the pieces!" House shouted over the roar of his bike's engine as he quickly sped off. Wilson just sighed, shook his head and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance.
House entered his office silently, taking off his coat and sitting down at his desk. Moments later three doctors entered from the conference room next door.
"We have a case," said Dr. Aly Cameron a young brunette said.
"The little birdie has already told me," House answered, bored.
"68 year old Bith woman presented a cough, nausea, chest palpations, and hallucinations" A dark skinned man named Dr. Eric Foreman explained.
"She's going to die," House muttered, not interested.
"She's been to five doctors and no one can figure out what's wrong with her." Said the third person, Dr. Rob Chase.
House sighed. "Get a complete bioscan, neuralscan, and a decent medical history," he commanded. His staff exited quickly to do his bidding. He glanced at the heaps of files on his desk and he knew his paperwork would take days, but instead of taking care of it, House turned on his vidscreen and watched a podrace.
An hour later House was throwing a red and grey ball against the wall, when his staff returned.
"The scans were clean," Foreman said passing House the results. "But we did find some swelling in the temporal lobe."
"Which means absolutely nothing," House said following the train of thought. "What did the history turn up?"
"No history of genetic diseases, cancer, and the Bith never left her home planet until just a week ago when she came to Corellia."
"And why did she leave?" House asked.
"Is that even medically relevant?" Cameron pointed out.
"It could be," House said.
At that moment, everyone's comlinks beeped and one glance at it told House it was a code blue. Cameron, Foreman, and Chase rushed out the doors. House followed at his own pace.
When he arrived it was chaos in the patient's room, Chase inserted a ventilator in the Bith's mouth, Foreman was shooting a hypo into its arm and Cameron was studying the monitors.
"She's stable," Cameron said, relieved.
"For now," House replied seriously. "But this monster has just begun to show its fangs."
"What can it be?" House asked his team. He was standing by a large sheet of white flimsiplast, with a stylus poised in his hand. On the board was a list of the Bith's symptoms.
"Findris flu," Chase said.
"Wouldn't explain the hallucinations," Forman pointed out. "Hardan plague."
"Since when does it include nausea or chest palpations, idiot?" House said irritated looking up from his white board.
"How about an allergy, like sporigobzi," Cameron replied. "That explains all her symptoms, and it's a fairly common allergy.
"Treat her," House answered, taking some Vicona. "And do an allergy scratch test."
