Sorry this chapter's kinda short-ish. It's around the same word count, it's just that the paragraphs are bigger. Enjoy :)
The Common Cold
Chapter Four
House stared dumbfounded into the sink as the black sludge slowly slid down the bowl and into the drain. He was almost willing it to slide down further with his mind, as if by sheer force of willpower he could make it as if the sludge had never been there; it had never been inside him.
Was he dying? It was obvious he has whatever the twenty-six-year-old has, but he still didn't know what that was. Not knowing what the illness was had the unfortunate side effect of also not knowing if it was fatal. Judging from the respiratory arrest from earlier, there was a very real chance that it was fatal. Meaning that he and the team had to figure out what this was fast, because if that patient died, it meant two things: One, it was fatal. And two, they couldn't stop it, which meant that he was a goner.
Trying to pull himself together, so to speak, House shook himself out of the trace-like state he had put himself in while thinking these things and limped out of the men's restroom. As luck would have it, on his way out of the bathroom he ran into Wilson, who was on his way in. Wanting to avoid as many people as possible after these traumatizing few moments, House tried to brush past Wilson but, unlike House, Wilson was an able-bodied person who didn't have an injured leg preventing him from moving very quickly. He grabbed House's arm as he tried to leave. House pulled away, but Wilson grabbed again, this time with a firmer grip.
"House, thank God. I've been looking everywhere for you. You're team asked me to find you, it's about your patient. Apparently the MRI was clean."
House, as if he never even heard Wilson, continued to try to get away.
"Let me go, Wilson, I have to talk to Cuddy."
"Cuddy's about to leave. What about your patient?"
"The patient isn't going to die in the middle of the night, he can wait. This can't. Let me go so I can catch Cuddy before she leaves!"
"Why are you so anxious to talk to Cuddy?"
"Damn it, Wilson! Can't you just once take my word that this is important?"
"No, I can't. No one can take your word on anything, House, because you lie too much."
"Everybody lies."
The conversation paused for a moment. Wilson had been too caught up in trying to talk to House about the patient that he didn't recognize how horrible he looked. He was in sorry shape. For a split second Wilson felt bad for not noticing it before, but the guilt soon passed when he remembered all the times House was an awful friend to him. At times he wondered why they were still even friends.
"House, what's wrong? You're white as a sheet. You aren't sick, are you?"
"Would I admit it if I was?" Wilson sighed heavily.
"No...no, you wouldn't."
"Alright then, let me see Cuddy." Defeated, Wilson let go of House and stood motionless as House limped his way down to Cuddy's office.
XxXxXxXxXxXxXxXx
House violently pushed open the door to Lisa Cuddy's office. Cuddy, startled at House's sudden entrance even though he's done it so many times she should be used to it by now, dropped the files and folders and other such things she was taking home for the night. Some of them fell on the desk, but some fell on the floor. She gathered the ones on the desk into a neat little pile, then bent over to pick up the ones that had fallen on the floor. Once this had been accomplished she turned her head to look at House, who was standing in the doorway the whole time. Her features took on a surprised look as she saw the state of health her co-worker was in.
"House, are you alright? What's wrong with you? You should take the day off tomorrow, get better."
"Cuddy, that's partially what I've come to talk to you about. You need to face this thing with Jared."
"I'll face it when I'm ready, House. I'm just not ready, yet."
"You need to get ready. Now."
"Why? Why is it so important that I'm ready to face something that doesn't even have to do with you? Is this another one of your stupid, selfish, egotistical maniac schemes, because I'm sick of them!"
Right after she said it, Cuddy knew she was wrong. This wasn't one of House's escapades. If it was one of House's schemes, he would be acting different. He would be all nice and ready with some smart and sarcastic comeback to make her mad. But his demeanor right now was closer to those few times he had come to her for help- serious help. And that worried her.
"House, I can tell by the look on your face something's wrong. What is it?"
"Cuddy, I can't take off tomorrow even though you know I'd love to, and you need to come to terms with this thing with Jared. I need to spend every iota of my energy solving this case. I need to be here to figure this out. It's become urgent. The reason it's become urgent is the same reason that you need to come to terms with Jared. I caught what Jared has. If I don't work with my team as often and as effectively as possible the same thing's going to happen to me that's happening to him. Cuddy, I think I'm dying. And if you don't learn how to cope with doing this with Jared, you're going to have a much rougher time coping with it happening to me."
A deafening silence filled the empty space between the two co-workers. Cuddy stood completely motionless for what could have been hours or only a few minutes. Her mixed emotions when it came to Gregory House were too confusing for her to sort out, so most of the time she just left them alone and ignored them in the far-off corner of the back of her mind. She never even thought that one day the time would come where she'd need to face those feelings, for one reason or another. And she certainly had never hoped that the reason would be someone's- two people's- immanent death. Mainly House's. It was like a bad dream and all she needed now was to wake up, though she knew full well that she never would snap out of it because it wasn't a dream. It was real -bitingly, stingingly real. And that hadn't changed, no matter how much she prayed in the silence of her heart.
"House, you're lying. You don't mean that. You're testing me, to see if I'll cave."
"Cuddy, why would I about my own state of health?" House asked, an obvious exasperation in his voice "Of all the things I've lied to you about, have I ever once lied about whether or not I was dying? I mean, I've hid it from you as long as I thought I could handle it, but have I ever lied the other way around? Have I ever told you I was when I wasn't unless I truly thought I was? This isn't a game, and it doesn't matter how much the two of us pretend it is. We have to face the fact that Jared, whatever he is to you, is in that room dying of we don't know what. And as doctors we see so many people die a day, it doesn't matter if he dies or not. But when a doctor becomes sick with whatever a patient has, that raises the urgency level higher than you can imagine. Hell, why am I telling you this? You know all this. You just don't want to admit it!"
"House, get out. Please. I just can't do this right now. I need time. Please understand."
"Okay, sure. You need time. You're not ready. When will you be ready? When Jared dies of unknown causes and I'm on my deathbed gasping for my last breaths? Will you be ready then? Or will it be when I'm already gone and they're putting me in the ground?" And with that House limped out of the room, leaving Cuddy standing in her office alone, upset, but worst of all afraid.