The Queen Of Hearts
By Jackyblu
Chapter 9
House's mouth was dry. He watched Wilson fuss with the covers on his bed.
Never mind covering my feet! What did the scans show?
Wilson faced him. This was the moment of truth.
"Your scans show a cerebral embolism. You've had an ischemic stroke."
Well duh.
House motioned with his left hand for Wilson to show him the scan film.
Wilson handed it over. House moved it closer and further from his eyes looking at it.
Damn. Left my glasses in my desk.
House saw the blockage. There was the clot in the cerebellum on the right side of his brain. He had expected to find it. He looked up at Wilson.
"The bus," Wilson said quietly.
Ya think?
House was angry with himself. How could he have been so stupid?
I should have anticipated this. I should have had Coumadin or another blood thinner the moment I had the migraine. It was a warning sign and I didn't see it!
House put the scan down and indicated he wanted to write something.
Wilson gave House the little whiteboard and the marker. He was waiting for House to blame him for this. Wilson had insisted that House under go electrical stimulation of his temporal lobe.
It was as if House were reading his mind.
'Not your fault.'
Wilson read the board and shook his head.
"I should never have put you through direct brain stimulation."
You were grief stricken and clutching at straws. I suggested the procedure.
House tapped the board with the marker.
"You're trying to absolve me of my guilt."
That doesn't sound like me. I've had a stroke not a personality replacement.
House wrote on the board again.
'Moron'
"That's the House I know and love."
House blinked once.
Don't get all mushy. I blush easily.
"And this had nothing to do with your leg."
House blinked twice.
"A coincidence," Wilson said wonderingly. "You have got to have the worst karma of anyone I know."
You have no idea. I can still feel pain in my thigh. How's that for unlucky?
He took the marker and wrote on the board.
'Thigh hurts'
Wilson looked at him, a pained expression on his face. This was unfair. Maybe God really did hate House.
"I'm so sorry."
House ignored him.
He felt like his body was fighting against him. How could he defend himself from himself? Maybe it was fruitless to try. He recalled the hallucination of riding on a pure white bus with Amber. He was sorry he ever got off.
A black depression descended on him. One tear escaped to slid down his cheek.
Wilson had seen House low before. Now he was seeing his best friend devastated. He wanted to help. He knew that depression was detrimental to healing. That was a proven fact in medicine. He cast his mind around for something to distract House. He rubbed the back of his neck thinking.
"Did you know Taub is having an affair?" Wilson asked casually.
Well that's relevant to my situation. Shall we discuss the damn weather next?
"Yeah after all that posturing and swearing he loved his wife. He left with that cute blond nurse he's been hanging around."
Who the hell cares?
"You know what that makes him right?"
House blinked twice.
"A wandering Jew."
He smirked and in spite of himself House snorted while quirking his mouth up at the corners.
"Do that again!" Wilson demanded.
Why?
"House try to smile again."
I moved my mouth?
"You moved your mouth. Do it again."
I guess I did.
House tried as hard as he could. His mouth tweaked up at the corners.
"Yes!" Wilson exclaimed.
House wrote on the board again.
'I did it?'
"Greg House can do anything," Wilson answered grinning.
The dark cloud lifted. House felt more like himself and a little bit hopeful.
Lisa Cuddy walked hurriedly into the room.
"What's happening? I heard you clear down the hall," she said addressing Wilson.
"Show her," Wilson answered his earlier irritation with her forgotten with House's success.
How about a little dignity for crippled stroke guy? I'm not a show dog.
House raised the corners of his mouth.
Ruff ruff.
Cuddy's mouth opened. She leaned in closer.
House opened his eyes wider.
Hello girls. Daddy's missed you.
Cuddy realized where House was looking. She straightened up. Then something caught her attention.
"Well there's nothing wrong with your libido I see."
Nope. Fired up and ready to go.
He became aware of where Cuddy was looking. He flicked his eyes down toward his thighs.
I'll be damned. The equipment still works! That's great, I was afraid Wilson would have to be my surrogate. Or Taub, he does have experience.
Cuddy smiled.
"This is good," she said smiling.
You bet it is. Want to try it out?
Wilson handed Cuddy the scan results. She looked them over.
"The bus accident. We told you to rest but would you listen? You're not immortal you know."
And yet I keep coming back. Maybe I should start a religion? Saint Gregory. No that's taken. Saint House. Nope. That sounds like a homeless shelter.
"You just have to do anything to solve the puzzle and damn the consequences," she huffed.
If you've come here to nag the least you can do is take off your bra and anything else that will gain my attention.
"You always put yourself at risk. My other doctors don't try to kill themselves. Why can't you be more like them?"
You can't tell but I'm yawning.
"House our liability on you alone is more than triple the cost of anyone else in the building."
Enough woman! Either strip off or leave me. We are not amused.
"House are you listening to me?"
Not since you took the 'twins' away.
House blinked twice. He couldn't help himself.
"I give up," Cuddy said in frustration. She turned and looked at Wilson who shook his head.
Keep talking. I can outlast you. In fact right now it's the chief weapon in my arsenal.
She looked at the scan again.
"Surgery to remove the clot or medication?" Cuddy said addressing House.
Inwardly he frowned. That dark feeling was returning.
The last time I had surgery to remove a clot it didn't work out so well for me.
"Surgery," Wilson answered from behind her. "Do you concur Dr. House?"
House took a deep breath and blinked once then took the marker and wrote.
'Foreman Chase Taub'
Wilson looked surprised.
"I get Foreman and Chase. Why Taub?"
House wrote again.
'Plastic surgeon - Sexier scar.'
Wilson put a mock serious look on his face. He placed his hands on his hips and nodded.
"Of course. Since your hair is thinning you'll need it. Maybe he could sew some of Chase's up there? "
House wrote something on the board that made Cuddy turn her head.
"I think that's physically impossible but well worth watching," she snickered.
Wilson looked over at it. Then looked at House.
"Yeah and the horse you rode in on."
Okay if you've got a horse. Though you might want to start with a pony and work your way up.
Cuddy brought the conversation back around to the medicine.
"You want the surgery and you've chosen the team. Who do you want to do the anesthesia?"
House wrote.
'Not Chambers!'
"Okay how about Green?"
House considered for a moment.
'Thomason'
Cuddy looked puzzled. "He's brand new here."
Exactly. I haven't pissed him off yet.
House drew a line through the name and wrote.
'Wilson'
"Are you sure?" Wilson said uncomfortably. "It's not my specialty."
House tapped his name with the marker making his choice clear.
If you screw this up I'll never borrow money from you again so try not to kill me.
"Okay. But Thomason might be the wiser choice."
'Want you there'
"I'll be there," Wilson answered solemnly.
"So will I," Cuddy promised taking his hand.
Slowly but deliberately House took his hand from Cuddy. He blinked twice.
She looked at House hurt and confused.
"If that's what you want," she said quietly.
That's what I want.
In spite of being able to move his mouth slightly he was angry and depressed again. He hoped he would regain movement on the right side of his body. But what if he didn't? Was the damage too extensive for him to come back from?
God sucks! Why do this to me!? Don't you have other people to torment? How about Lucas!
He didn't know why he thought that. Yes he did. He was looking at the reason in a tight skirt and low cut top. He closed his eyes.
Don't go there House. She's made her choice and it isn't you. And I'll be damned if I'm going to let her spill concern and caring all over me only to yank it away when I'm in a wheelchair, if I'm lucky.
House wiped the whiteboard on the cotton blanket leaving black streaks. He wrote three words and underlined them for emphasis.
'NO MIDDLE GROUND'
This time I wake up with no surprises. My body belongs to me!
He was so angry. His eyes burned. He knew deep deep down he blamed Cuddy for suggesting to Stacy the removal of part of his right thigh muscle. He never said it to her. He suppressed it.
He focused his resentment on Stacy. She didn't honor his wishes. She let fear dictate her actions. He had loved her. He had trusted her. Now trust was something he gave to few people, maybe only one.
Cuddy quietly left the room.
He still blames me for his leg. I had to tell Stacy about the alternative procedure. It would have been irresponsible not to. I'm sorry it left him in pain. I'm sorry it changed his life. But the outcome might have been his death.
Wilson slid the door open and joined her outside. He closed it and fixed her with a look.
"Are you his proxy?"
"No," Cuddy answered. "On his paperwork under proxy it says 'self'."
"Can you blame him?"
She crossed her arms and cast her eyes to the floor. Her mouth became a thin line.
"No."
Wilson sighed.
"He's scared. He's worried the condition might be permanent."
"I can understand that. It's just… This isn't my fault."
"Of course it isn't," Wilson said soothingly. "House knows that."
"He hates me because of his leg. He always has. I was just too self deceiving to see it."
"No, he doesn't hate you. In fact quite the opposite."
Cuddy looked at Wilson disbelieving.
"House loves me? That can't be possible. He's never said it. He's certainly never shown it."
"Yes he has in small ways. He has in his way. Showing emotion is hard for him."
"Why? Why is it harder for him than anyone else? Other people hurt, love and laugh. Why not House?"
Wilson looked sternly at her.
"Do you think he doesn't hurt? Do you think he never laughs? Can you honestly say he didn't love? Do you think he's incapable of it?"
Cuddy swallowed and looked chastised. Wilson lowered his voice.
"The problem isn't with House but the people around him. His father, Stacy, they hurt him in ways that have left permanent scars. It's built up like armor keeping others out."
Cuddy nodded. She felt horrible for what she said. Of course House felt emotions. He locked them up inside him. Caring hurt. Loving people hurt. Best to keep people at arms length for your own protection.
The realization hit her suddenly. Is that what she was doing with House? Was she keeping him away for fear House would hurt her.
It was ironic. Wilson was trying to protect House from Cuddy hurting him. Where did the truth lie?
Wilson was looking closely at Cuddy. What was she thinking? Her eyes were soft and there was a little frown on her lips.
Did she really care about House? No, Wilson decided. If she did she wouldn't be with Lucas. House trying to break them up wasn't a game for his own amusement. If she couldn't see that then she had no business hanging over him now.
"You need to make a commitment," Wilson said firmly. "You can't give him your affections when his future is in doubt and take them away when he's better. This time he might not recover from the stroke or you."
Wilson turned away and reentered the room. He slid the door closed with Cuddy still standing there.
House looked at Wilson and wrote on the whiteboard.
'Protecting me?'
Wilson shrugged slightly.
"We were just talking."
House wrote again.
'Liar'
Wilson tightened his mouth and tipped his head.
"It's my job as best friend. Don't you ride in on a white horse to protect me whether I need it or not?"
'Payback?'
Wilson grinned.
"Yeah, it is. What're you going to do about it?" Wilson asked with mock defiance.
House snorted a laugh. He turned the edges of his mouth up and wrote.
'Ass'
Wilson chuckled.
"Yes but I'm the ass who sees to it that they puree you something tasty to eat and you're complaining?"
House wiped the board on his blanket. Then wrote again.
'Nope'
"That's better," Wilson said with satisfaction.
House wrote something rude on the board.
Wilson leaned over to read it.
"Cuddy's right. That is physically impossible."
House closed his eyes and snorted again. This was as close to laughing as he could get.
Cuddy walked slowly down the hall. She didn't notice anyone. She made her way through the hospital without thought. Her feet knew where she was going even if she didn't.
Wilson had said House cared for her. He had also said that House might not recover from the stroke. That was inconceivable. House was strong. He was a force of nature.
But he was vulnerable too. He hurt and some days it was more than he could bear.
And that is why Wilson protected him.
Protected him from me.
She had never considered her attention to House when he needed it as anything more than a friend caring about another friend. It didn't mean she loved him. It showed affection, yes. But it wasn't a promise of a relationship. If what Wilson had said was true then House had misread her intentions. She did not want a relationship with him.
She had at one time, she admitted to herself. When they were in college. He walked away without a word. She thought later that is was for the best. She was a serious student with goals she was determined to achieve.
She had looked for him on campus. Not a search but glances around the library when she was studying in case he walked in. A casual glance around the student lounge, an eye sweep at lectures. Finally she stopped looking.
He came and he went.
She smiled sadly at the truth in that joke.
Cuddy was stopped at the clinic. With House unable to work and Wilson unwilling to leave him they were short two doctors. Should doctor Wilson be told to do his clinic hours? That wasn't even an option. House needed him.
More than he needs me.
"Page Doctors Taub and Henley. They can fill in," she told Brenda.
She knew that Foreman and Chase would be called to House's room to discuss his surgery. House would write what he wanted them to do. He would be fully in charge of his own case.
Just like he should have been with his infarction.
She felt guilty again. She told herself for the thousandth time it wasn't her fault. Stacy had taken over the direction of care as his proxy. She had done it legally. She had not done it ethically. House had been confident in his decision.
Cuddy hadn't been there when House woke up to find part of his leg missing. She wasn't there to see his shock and agony.
Wilson was.
She was there when House was sullen and seething within. When he tried to accept what had happened. When he tried so hard to walk without assistance. She saw him fail and try again. She saw him draw away from Stacy.
Just like he is doing with me now.
Cuddy signed off on the duty sheet adding Taub and Thirteen. She handed it to Brenda and walked away.
She went to her office and sat behind her desk. She ran her hand through her hair.
She knew she would be in the observation room when House had his surgery. She couldn't stay away. How could she not be there? No matter what Wilson said. And House wouldn't know.
Why do I want so badly to be there?
"He's my friend," she answered herself. "I should be upset by what's happened to him. I should want to support him. I should be there. It doesn't mean I want him in my bed. He's been there before and it didn't lead to anything."
We have pushed each other for years. Why would Wilson think that House was serious now? The only thing that House has said is he wants Lucas and I to break up. Well he did say that he hoped Karma would reward him and Lucas would die, but that was just House being glib. It was suppose to shock me and amuse him.
Cuddy looked up and saw Taub and Thirteen walking by her office. They both looked in wearing expressions she thought were accusing.
This is ridiculous. Why should I feel guilty? I wasn't responsible for the bus crash. I tried to make him rest. He wouldn't do it. He did every stupid thing he could think of to force himself to remember what he'd seen.
She had stayed beside him after the seizure. No one had objected. House had not awaken later and told her to leave.
"That was before Lucas," she murmured unsolicited.
She needed to clear her thoughts. In college when her mind was cluttered she would prioritize. It was a little trick that helped her to calmly make decisions.
I'm the mother of a small child. I'm the head of this hospital and everything that happens here is my responsibility. I'm a woman in her forties who frankly isn't getting any younger. I want stability. I need to count on the person I have a relationship with. I need someone to help me raise Rachel. I need someone to share my life with.
Lucas was there. He was reliable. He adored Rachel. He helped Cuddy with her. He listened when she talked about her day and the different issues that came up at the hospital. He was a bit younger than she but that made her feel younger too. Lucas shared her bed. She came home to him and he came home to her.
Do I love him?
He was a nice guy. He was good in bed. Not great. She had great years ago. Sometimes in the scheme of things 'great' was overrated.
Do I love him?
This time she wasn't thinking of Lucas.
She closed her eyes exhaling deeply.
Yes.
He went into the bedroom and opened the closet pulling out jeans, shirts and a pair of Nikes. He moved to the dresser and opened the lower drawer taking out boxers and sock.
The sports bag was on the bed. Everything went inside. He looked around. Had he forgotten anything? His phone charger was plugged into the wall by the nightstand. He unplugged it and placed it inside the bag.
He pulled out his cell and called the hospital. The phone was answered at the other end.
"I'm going to go for a while. Give you some space."
"I don't need space."
"Yes you do. You need to think. You need to decide what you want."
"I want you," she said her voice flat.
"I'll be around. You can call me when you're ready."
"We should be together. It makes sense."
"Yeah. But I'd rather be the one who has emotion and not logic on his side."
"That isn't who you think it is," she said softly and without much conviction.
"Yeah it is."
Neither spoke. For a full minute the line was silent.
"Lisa, I'm here if you ever just want to talk. Besides being a great guy I'm a great listener."
She smiled.
"You are a great guy."
"Just not the guy."
"You might be." She sounded hopeful.
"So is the other guy. He may be an ass but I like him and he pays well."
"Yes, that's quite a friendship you two have."
"It works for us. He tells me what to do and I tell him how much."
"He doesn't want me around."
"That's seriously bad for me."
"How?"
"Only a guy who really feels something for a woman doesn't want her around when he's in pain."
"I don't think so."
"Of course you don't. It isn't logical. It doesn't make sense."
"No."
"Lady love isn't something that can be explained through science or mathematics. Love is something that has to be felt, experienced and lived." He softened his voice to a near whisper. "You need to live Lisa. Throw away the calendars, planners and schedules. Just live in the moment for a while."
"I don't know how," she said her voice cracking.
"That's why I'm going. You need to learn. You won't with me around. Go to dinner with a friend. Go to a bar. Play pinball at an arcade. Join a bowling league. Just get out there and find something that makes no sense at all. It's the nonsense that makes people happy."
Cuddy was quiet. She couldn't talk. She didn't know what she would say if she could.
"I'm just a phone call away if you really need me."
"Thank you."
"And don't listen to him. Go hold his hand. Don't supervise his care. Just be there. It's what he wants."
He hung up the phone walking down the hall as he did so. He stepped into the living room and gave the sitter a card with his cell number. He picked up Rachel and gave her a kiss.
Lucas opened the door and walked away.
"Are you tired?"
House blinked once.
"You look it. You're eyelids are drooping."
House eyed Wilson. The edges of his mouth curled. He took the whiteboard and wrote.
'Jerk'
"No that's what I call you."
He wrote again.
'Ass.'
"Again one of my pet names for you."
'Bitch.'
"Yes, that would be one of your words of endearment."
Wilson you really are a pain in the ass. I'm glad you're here.
Chase had been lurking outside the room. Foreman would be there soon. Of all House's fellows Chase was the most concerned about his boss. Wilson had wondered for a few years if Chase saw House as a father figure now that his own father was dead. House had the authority not the age. Chase had spent more time with House than he had ever spent with his own dad. A fact not lost on House.
House gave him a bad time. He gave all of his fellows hell. But Chase had grown a lot during these years with him. He even left the surgical team to return to House. How many doctors in this hospital would have done that?
Wilson looked over at House. His eyes were closed.
He's exhausted. He didn't sleep well last night. Would anyone?
Foreman joined Chase outside the room. Wilson motioned them in. Chase slid the door open and they entered quietly with deference to the man lying with his eyes closed upon the bed.
"Should we come back in a while?" Chase asked quietly.
"No. This needs to get done now, " Wilson said as quietly as Chase.
"His chance for recovery is greater the sooner the obstruction is removed," Foreman stated nodding.
Wilson looked at House. His eyes were still closed but there was something about the way House was breathing.
Wilson whispered softly.
"Oh my God look at the rack on the new nurse."
House popped one eye open wide.
"He was faking?" Chase said incredulously.
"All the better to eavesdrop Goldilocks," Foreman chuckled.
House blinked once.
Wilson chuckled and Chase rolled his eyes.
"All right," Foreman said to the man on the bed. "What do you want us to do?"
