I'm SOOO sorry it took so long. I'm waiting for my beta reader, and she's still going to read through it. THANK YOU Shavannah! I finally found someone to help me sense my other one left.

Anyway, this is it without the beta read, so I hope its okay, but I know you guys have been waiting. She will fix it up in a bit. Any suggestions you all have would be helpful too. Thanks. This is my first fic so I hope its okay. I'm having trouble with the medical stuff though. It's hard. Does anyone else fine that if you write two pages on word, when you put the story on it seems like its less then that? Anyway, onto the story.

House was in his office, in his usual spot. He had Patrick guarding him with his handgun resting in his left hand. House noted that Patrick was a lefty obviously which meant his son could be too. He sighed frustrated; this man was not letting him work under his normal environment and he found it extremely distracting. House played with his tennis ball a bit more and stopped when he felt the gun go to the back of his neck.

"You know, it's not exactly easy to concentrate with a hand gun pointed at your back," he said making a face at the taller man.

Wilson who was also in the room raised an eyebrow at House as if to remind him Patrick was serious. House didn't care he couldn't work like this. It was unnerving. It was even more distracting when the gun was pushed further into his neck. "You want to stop now doctor?" he asked.

House shrugged, "What difference does it make, your eventually going to shoot me anyway, at least, from what I could see," House said shrugging. "We all die one way or another," he said, "I might as well die annoying the hell out of you," he said.

"House…" Wilson said. Wilson was one to know that Patrick wasn't following around, "Do I need to remind you that Wendy is lying in the hospital hurt ?" he asked. The sadness was in his voice. She would be fine, but she would definitely have problems when she woke up. Wilson had been a bit close to Wendy at one point. They never officially called it a date or anything, but he had talked to her a few times.

House sighed, "Look, I can't think when a gun is pointed at my neck," he said to Patrick, "You want your son to live, then let me work," he said. "You can have your pistol party outside the office," he said.

Patrick looked at his partner and nodded, "Go," he said to him. He looked at House, "Try anything funny, and your friend is the first to go," he said pointing the gun at Wilson now.

"You don't learn anything do you?" House asked staring at Patrick angrily.

Wilson looked at House, and House glanced back at him. They each shared the same expression on their faces. Worry. House knew this guy wasn't messing around and he knew he shouldn't piss him off, but he also knew that he couldn't think under these conditions. Then again, he also knew he had to.

Moments later House began pacing back and forth. He waited for his team to come back with the tests results. House wanted them to run the MRI and all the basic tests, but he wondered what was taking so long. He had to have symptoms before he started diagnosing. "When did your son start getting sick?" House asked Patrick.

"A month ago," he said, "There was blood in his urine," Patrick explained, "We noticed it at his physical," he explained. "The symptoms got worse and we tried to take him to a hospital and they turned us down, finally he became so bad we felt we didn't have a choice but to come here, I looked up your name and saw your one of the best," he said.

"I'm only one of the best when I don't have a gun pointed to my head," House said once again angrily.

House looked at the board that was filled with the symptoms. He stared at it. "Joint pain, weight loss…" House muttered to himself. At that moment his team came in. They didn't look to pleased. "Blood in urine…" he muttered.

"Test results?" he asked them. The team looked nervous as they entered the room. It was obvious that they too didn't like the fact that they were working under this type of pressure.

"Patrick…" Taub looked at the man questionably, "Did your son ever complain about lower abdomable pain before this started happening?" he asked.

Patrick shook his head, "No," he said. "The doctors said it was possible that he had cancer," Patrick told him. "I didn't believe it, and of course because we have no insurance, the hospital turned us down for testing," he explained.

House nodded, "Right, and he progressively got worse," he noted and Patrick nodded.

House turned to Wilson, "Run your cancer tests," he said to him. Wilson agreed and Patricked looked back and forth between them. "It could be possible your son has Leukemia, which would mean your keeping us here for nothing," House explained.

Patrick pointed the gun at House again, "Nothing, you think my son is worth nothing?" he asked angrily pointed the gun right at House's head. House could feel the barrel against his skull. On the inside his body was shaky, on the outside, he was cool and collected, his usual self.

"No, I didn't say he was worth nothing, what I said was, you were holding us here for nothing," House said. "If its Leukemia, we would need to find someone willing to donate their marrow, and chances are they would have to be a perfect match, and the chances of that happening…" House shrugged. "Lets just hope his mother is around for this," he said. "You'd be tested too of course," House told him.

"Then we do it," Patrick said continuing to hold the gun against House's head. House looked very uncomfortable. Wilson stared over at his friend as if to say 'quit pissing this guy off'. House was sweating now, and it was obvious he could tell just how insane Patrick was. House closed his eyes for a moment. He opened them and looked back up at Wilson.

"Do your tests," he said to Wilson. Wilson simply nodded and Patrick's assistant David walked Wilson out the door with him. Patrick let the gun down and House breathed a sigh of relief. This was an unusual circumstance for him, but he was working through it. If only he could figure out a way to get Patrick to drop that gun.