Foreman reached the rooftop first, quickly followed by the rest, except House. Foreman felt his heart skip a beat when he saw Angel on the ledge of the roof, holding on to a light pole, swinging back and forth.

"Angel! Please, come down so we can talk," Foreman begged. He expected her to be distraught. He did not expect her to be giggling. The group looked nervously amongst each other as Angel's current demeanor took them by surprise.

"Shh, the birds are teaching me how to fly so I can go visit Connor over on that cloud," Angel hushed them sternly, pointing to a cloud in the distance. Softly she began to sing. "Someday I'll fly away, leave all this to yesterday…" Her voice was lovely and haunting, the look on her face twisted between grief and joy.

"Angel, give me your hand, I'll take you to Connor but not this way," Foreman tried to keep his voice from shaking. She didn't move away, so he inched closer. Taub followed suit, reaching his hand out to her as well.

She began shaking and Foreman noticed her eyes looked glassy. "Come on, everything will be okay, just take my hand." Angel slowly nodded and began to reach for Foreman and Taub when her body went limp. They barely grasped her and pulled her to safety when she began seizing.

Wilson ran forward with a syringe of Ativan, figuring they would need it for sedation. "My god, she's burning up."

Foreman carried Angel, unconscious but still twitching, until they could get her on a gurney. House was standing there, holding a set of restraints. "She's not suicidal House! She's sick!" Foreman quickly helped the staff get her hooked up to monitors and was distressed at what they showed.

"Blood pressure rising, body temp 104, run a tox screen and a CBC. Let's get a cooling blanket in here," Foreman barked to the nurses. He stopped for a moment and stroked Angel's forehead.

"Rest of you, back to the conference room," House directed after clearing his throat. The team, stunned into silence, followed. "Differential diagnosis…come on people. Right now we have to think of her as a patient. Symptoms: high BP, high body temp, hallucination, seizures. Go."

"Drug or drug overdose," Chase offered quietly.

"Infection," added Hadley.

"She threw up yesterday, had a bad migraine, I'm putting Meningitis on the board," said House, rubbing his brow.

House's pager went off. "Tox screen negative." He crossed that off the white board. "Start her on…whatever antibiotic she's not allergic to, get a lumbar puncture." The team rushed out, leaving House alone to stare at the words on the board until they seemed meaningless.

By nightfall, after numerous tests, the team huddled around Angel's bed. Her condition was worsening and she'd likely be moved to ICU soon. Foreman grabbed the latest test results from the nurse. His face fell.

"She's showing signs of rhabdo, metabolic acidosis, and DIC, and her fever's up to 105," he announced. She'd had 2 more seizures and hadn't regained consciousness. He sat wearily in a chair by her bedside, gently touched her cheek, flushed red with the fever. "Angel, hang on. We're doing everything we can."

House didn't want to be in here, but she had been fine hours ago, and now her body was shutting down. He picked up her chart for the third time, scrutinizing it for any detail he missed. "Foreman. No new meds recently?" Foreman shook his head.

"Ok. Past 48 hours. Where has she been besides home and work?" House looked at Foreman.

"She stayed the night—but it's not what you think. She—" House interrupted.

"Yeah, we get it; you're not sleeping with her. Ok. So you gave her a ride in. I saw you two talking…." House tilted his head, thinking, replaying the scene in his head. He'd been so angry…what was he missing?

At that moment a soft alarm went off. Everyone looked at the monitors but it was coming from her purse. Foreman reached over and turned it off. "She sets an alarm to remind her to take some of her meds."

House looked up suddenly. "Empty her purse; get out all her medication bottles. Where did she go after you two got here this morning?"

"The pharmacy, but it was just for a refill," Foreman started pulling the bottles from her handbag.

"Which medication? Look at refill dates, c'mon, c'mon." House's breathing quickened.

Foreman held up a bottle. "This one. Buspar." House snatched it out of his hand and opened it up, pulling out a pill. It did not match the description on the bottle.

"Chase, run to the pharmacy and have them identify this. Call me with the answer," House ordered, heart pounding, hoping he was right, and hoping they'd found out in time.

The room grew silent again when House's phone rang. He closed his eyes with a small smile and quiet sigh of relief, and then hung up. "The pharmacy screwed up. They filled it with bupropion instead."

"Serotonin Storm," Foreman finished House's thoughts. House nodded.

"Give her cyproheptadine and chlorpromazine, antihypertensives if her BP doesn't improve." No one but Wilson noticed House's hand shaking while he stood with his cane. "I'll be in my office."

"House," Wilson called after him. House turned quietly. "Good catch." House nodded and walked away.

Slowly, Angel's vitals began to improve; it would appear no permanent damage had been done. Cuddy fired the pharmacist on the spot. One by one, the team members stopped by, but Angel remained unconscious. Wilson looked ashen with worry and guilt. He never should have betrayed her trust like that. But even he didn't think that House would stoop so low as to mock her about her dead son. He stood next to her bedside, shifting his weight from one foot to the other in nervousness. Finally he kissed her on the forehead and left, eyes tearing up.

With Foreman in her room, House knew better than to go in. He figured, correctly, that he'd wind up in a hospital bed after Foreman got through with him. Angel's words from their argument came back to haunt him. He'd meddled again—thinking it was on Wilson's behalf—and Wilson had figuratively walked out on him. The two had not spoken since Angel's diagnosis.

Soon, Foreman was the only one who remained and refused to go home. After the cooling blanket was removed, he held her hand, stroking it with his thumb. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. He'd almost lost her today. If his hand hadn't been right there to grab hers in time….it struck Foreman that he definitely had more than casual feelings for Angel. He rested his head against the mattress, dozing off.

He awoke to the feeling of her fingers moving in his. Her sleepy eyes blinked, looking around, confused. "You're at PPTH. The pharmacy messed up one of your medications and you had a bad reaction. But you're going to be okay now," Foreman soothed her, brushing a lock of her hair off her cheek.

She nodded but the events with House came flooding back to her, and her heart rate spiked along with her blood pressure. Alarms went off and nurses came running in. "Angel, you have to calm down, I know you're upset about yesterday but it's ok." The nurses put on an oxygen mask and increased the sedative they were using while the remnants of the twitching dissipated.

Yesterday? I missed a whole day? Angel felt so dazed and fuzzy but the pain from yesterday was flooding back. She calmed down enough and removed the oxygen mask despite Foreman's protests. Suddenly she felt she couldn't meet his eyes and looked away. "When can I go home?"

"Maybe tomorrow, but your vitals are still a bit unsteady. Angel, look at me, please." Foreman's voice was so kind, so tender; she wondered if he knew anything at all. But when she saw his eyes, she knew he did. Her lower lip trembled.

"Hey, everything is ok. House is an ass. He's outed all of us for various things, and yeah it hurts like hell. I can't speak for everyone else, but your past life, your past job, makes no difference in how I feel about you." Angel's heart fluttered and blushed when it showed on the monitor; she knew Foreman could see how she was feeling. But that sense of doom was there. This was his attempt to get her to feel better. When she was well, things would change. They'd all look down on her.

Foreman could see the doubt in her eyes, her forehead creased with worry. Slowly, as not to get tangled in the tubes and wires, he hugged her, stroking her back and kissing the top of her head. "My mom died a few months ago and I didn't tell anyone. House found out and told everyone. I have a juvenile record—stole cars, broke into houses. House has made sure everyone knew. I've also got a brother in jail. You can guess who announced that to the team." Angel lifted her head off Foreman's shoulder, tenderness in her eyes.

"Eric…I'm sorry about your mom. And I'm sorry that he did those things to you," she said, brushing her hand along his cheek. "You do understand. I…I haven't been able to trust anyone in a long time. I thought I could trust James…." Her voice broke off, choked with tears.

"I hope I can earn your trust, Angel. When I thought we were going to lose you…" Foreman shook his head. He leaned forward and kissed Angel softly on her lips, still a bit feverish. That managed to produce a small smile from Angel, a good sign to Foreman.

In the morning, Angel was much more alert; vitals had remained stable throughout the night. Taub was the first to poke his head in, followed by Hadley and Chase. They all gave Angel a quick hug.

"You gave us quite a scare; I don't have much more hair to lose," gently scolded Taub.

The three shared with Angel their own private demons that had been made public by House: Taub's affair; Hadley's bisexuality and Huntington's chorea; and House not telling Chase his father was dying of cancer. They all expressed their deep sympathy for Connor. Angel smiled and thanked them but inside was feeling panicky. She was getting too close to them. They knew too much about her. She didn't think she could convince herself to stay this time. It might be time to pick up and run again.

At that moment, Wilson slowly peered in. Everyone could see the expression on Angel's face harden; they all said a quick farewell and left, staying just outside of view of the room. All but Foreman—he wasn't about to leave Angel without her saying so. "C-could I have a minute with Angel?" Wilson stammered. Foreman looked at Angel who just nodded.

Wilson came to her bed, and began to put his hand on hers when she pulled hers away. "Angel, I am so terribly sorry. House began talking like he already knew what had gone on in Cuddy's office and I fell for it. But I should never have said anything. Angel, I would never hurt you on purpose like that."

Angel bit her lip, and looked down. When she began to speak, it was just more than a whisper. She tried to control it so she wouldn't cry. "James, I….I know you're his best friend, but you betrayed my confidence. I can't be with anyone I don't trust. I need some space."

"I-I understand completely. I'm so sorry." When Angel didn't look at him, Wilson glanced at Foreman, who glared at him. Wilson turned and left.

Angel closed her eyes and willed the tears to not fall. It hurt her so much to say that to Wilson but he was better off without her. Better to break it off now and give him time to heal than to just take off with no explanation.

Suddenly Angel and Foreman heard the raised voices of House and Cuddy in the hallway. "I saved her life, dammit!" Angel's eyes grew wide and fearful; she reached for Foreman's hand.

"Please Eric, I don't want to see him, I can't see him," she begged, breathing faster. Foreman nodded and stepped into the hallway.

The three voices grew louder; Angel covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut as a panic attack washed over her…..

…"You little bitch! Now look what you did! It's all your fault! You're evil, that's what you are! You should have never been born!" The sound of breaking glass, the feeling of being thrown against a wall….

"Angel? Angel are you okay?" The sound of Cuddy's voice and the touch of her hand made Angel startle violently, but chased away the voices and pictures in her head. She must have looked awful because Cuddy looked alarmed and was about to page for a nurse when Angel nodded.

"I'm so sorry about the noise out there. Do you need anything?" Angel shook her head no, still trembling. "I have to ask you Angel….when you went up to the roof, were you suicidal?" Cuddy hated asking but for Angel's safety she had to know.

"No, no. I just….needed some quiet and some air. Eric told me what happened because of the medication. But I understand why you had to ask me that." Angel turned a bit pink from embarrassment.

"First off, I'm very sorry about the drug mix-up in the pharmacy. That pharmacist has been fired, and the rest will go through a re-certification class."

"Dr. House will be disciplined for his treatment of you. Not only had you discussed the matter with me, but his treatment was clearly harassment. You may file harassment charges against Dr. House. I've brought papers. Signing has absolutely no effect on your employment here at PPTH. You can request to be reassigned to a different department, but it's not required."

"No," Angel said, simply and quietly.

"I…don't understand," Cuddy said. "Do you want me to give you some time to think—"

"No to all of it. The discipline, the harassment charges. It's over. He….He's a good doctor and I wouldn't want someone not treated because I signed some papers." Angel handed the papers back to Cuddy.

"Are you…sure?" As much as Lisa Cuddy cared for House, she was completely appalled by what he had said to Angel, and horrified to think what the outcome could have been. Angel simply nodded.

"Okay then. We're signing your release papers; you'll be free to go home very soon. I want you take the rest of the week off." Cuddy gently rubbed Angel's arm and smiled, then left.