"Ghosts of the Past"
Chapter Eleven – "Running Scared"
By: purpleu
House scoffed at Wilson's words.
"Not quite. I bought the ticket to the game, but I wasn't allowed into the stadium," he replied ruefully. He looked up, saw the puzzled look on Wilson's face, and rolled his eyes. "I bought the ring, popped the question… and after saying yes at first, she eventually decided it was a stupid idea. She even said I pressured her, and asked me what made me think she wanted to get married." Wilson tried to have his brain quickly process the information he just heard; why didn't House tell him this before? It explained so much about him; besides the pain of his childhood, to have had this kind of rejection… no wonder he had put up walls, became cynical and bitter. His extreme disdain for marriage and even serious relationships was now made especially clear. Stacy and Lydia were the only two to really break through the wall on that subject, and now Wilson knew how it was built.
"So… what was this woman's name? And where did you meet her?" House turned his chair sideways, so his back was against the wall. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes. Alcohol in him or not, Wilson could see his friend had trouble discussing the subject.
"Her name was Sara Welles. We met when we were residents at Case Western University Hospital. Her specialty was cardiology. I had done my residency in infectious diseases in fifteen months and was working on nephrology at that point. By nature, the two specialties often work together, so we saw a lot of each other." House took a deep breath. "She not only was attractive, she was damn good at what she did; had insights into things way ahead of anyone else, including some of the doctors. She had a wicked sense of humor, knew how to dish it out as well as take it." Tapping his fingers on his desk, House continued. "Residents don't have time to do squat, as you well know. Working thirty to thirty-six hours in a row was not unheard of. In the beginning, our free time was spent as part of a group with other residents who had similar schedules." House looked over at Wilson and saw the surprised look on his face. "I haven't been a self-centered, anti-social ass my entire life. I'm a Frankenstein, a creature that was created by circumstance and environment. I helped the process along by putting stock in people's opinions of me." Wilson noticed that House had stopped drinking while he spoke. He didn't know whether to just keep quiet and let House talk, or to stop him and try to get some coffee into him. His friend hadn't consumed that much alcohol, it was just that he drank it rather quickly, and on an empty stomach. Wilson decided it was better to let House continue speaking; it may be the only time he would be willing to tell this story.
"How did you two get together? As a couple, I mean," Wilson asked. House winced.
"Our group all actually had a break for eighteen hours straight at one point, a rarity. We made plans to go out, grab something to eat, have some fun doing… whatever. One by one each of them begged off for different reasons till it was only Sara and me left. The thought of spending some time one on one with her appealed to me. I liked her… mind and body… so I asked her if she wanted to have dinner with me. I thought she was going to say no, but then I said it was my treat. She said yes." House's voice was becoming a bit more wistful sounding at the memory of the event.
"You treated for dinner?" Wilson asked, not even attempting to hide his amazement. House looked annoyed as he put his feet up on the edge of his desk and leaned back again.
"Didn't think I'd make a good impression if said 'Let's go Dutch' on our first date. We went to a little Italian place in town. Sat there talking so much that we barely touched our food. Even after the check came, we kept talking. Finally, I walked her back to her apartment; it was a studio like the hospital provided for all residents… and she invited me in. I wound up staying the night," House said with a sly smile, which then quickly faded. "That was the start of our doomed relationship." He swung his feet down off his desk and reached for the whiskey cup.
"House… no. You haven't had that much, but you need to keep your head about you. Alvie's not stable yet; you may still get a call from Taub or Foreman."
"Every week I sign a pay slip for those two. In the area marked 'job description' it says 'Doctor – Diagnostic Department.' They really should do something around here so I don't have to keep lying." Wilson didn't think that House was signing anything for Foreman at the moment, but he just chalked it up to House's slightly intoxicated rambling.
"You haven't had anything to eat. Let me go check over by the coffee machine. I'll make a small pot, and see if anything in the way of food's been left there. You… you can keep talking if you want." Wilson rose from his chair and headed into the conference room. He started to prep the coffee maker for a four cup serving; any more would be too much. There were also a few wrapped slices of pound cake that Wilson recognized as being Lydia's handiwork. He was almost certain he could get House to eat some of that. "How long were you and… Sara… seeing each other?" Wilson asked over his shoulder.
"Almost two years. I completed my residency in nephrology faster than usual, but I wanted to stay near her. That's when I added on pathology," House said staring off into space. "When everything came crashing down, I gave up the pathology work and got the hell out of there." Carrying the slices of pound cake, Wilson returned to House's office as the coffee brewed. House looked down with disdain at the food at first; then he recognized where it came from. He reluctantly unwrapped one of the slices of Lydia's apple cinnamon pound cake, and broke a small piece off. He popped it in his mouth, and a slight smile appeared.
"You actually sacrificed something related to medicine for this woman?" House screwed up his face in a look of disgust, but Wilson nodded his head and smiled. "Oh… I get it now. When you were hallucinating while in the coma, and told Cuddy you'd always choose her over medicine… you weren't talking to Cuddy, you were talking to Sara." House reached his hand up and pinched the bridge of his nose; a headache was starting to settle in on him.
"Congratulations; you've won the Freud award for obvious transference," he replied sarcastically. Wilson ignored the remark; he was more inclined to probe deeper into this story. The problem was, he had trouble imagining his friend that devoted to anyone that he'd allow himself to get swept up in a commitment. Well, there was one certain German lady who made great gingerbread cookies who would fit the bill. But normally these words and the concept were not a part of who House was. Maybe, though, they were a part of who he had been…
"I'm sorry, House, but I'm having a hard time picturing all of this. I… I can see you involved with Lydia to this extent, and not just because she's Annie's friend. But… "
"Would it help any if I told you Sara was a redhead?" Wilson's mouth fell open.
"Was she?"
"Yeah, but not a natural one like Fraulein is," House said with a smirk. Wilson ran a hand over his face.
"You were… seriously in love with this woman," he said. House nodded.
"As time went by, I was falling more and more into a bottomless pit of obsessing over her. I looked forward to work, I liked hearing the sound of her voice… all the inane and moronic things that people latch onto when they've lost their heads over someone." House leaned back again. "I was in love." Wilson realized the coffee had finished brewing. He went over to the machine and poured the liquid into two disposable cups; he added nothing, leaving both black. He wasn't intending on drinking much, but perhaps it would prompt House into drinking his.
"Was she in love with you?" Wilson asked as he returned with the coffee and sat down. He was trying to find out just where this whole thing went wrong.
"I thought she was. I didn't realize it until I looked back on things, but she never actually said 'I love you' in those exact three words. She'd say, 'Sending it back,' 'Same here, 'Me too.'" House closed his eyes. "I thought she just had trouble expressing the sentiment in the usual format. I was willing to accept that."
"And you were willing to go so far as to ask her to marry you? With things… undefined to say the least?" House turned his head toward Wilson and narrowed his eyes. "I know, I know; I'm the last one who should be criticizing judgment when it comes to asking someone to marry you."
"I looked at life differently back then. I had a different perspective on things, as Fraulein would say," House said. He stared straight ahead and got a faraway look in his eyes. "I wanted to have what Flyboy couldn't give me, but I saw that everyone else had; a real, happy, loving family. Other kids had it; their dads would hug them, play with them, talk to them. They were military brats just as much as I was. But they had a family that cared about each other." House dropped his head down. "Mom tried; the bastard just wouldn't let her. So unable to turn back the hands of time, there came a point when I decided I would go after what I wanted. There was nothing that said being a doctor and being a husband and father were mutually exclusive. People around me were getting engaged and married as they finished up their residencies. Seemed having someone in your life as you started on your career was well regarded by members of the profession. I loved Sara, so I didn't see any reason not to ask her." Wilson was very cautious about his next words, but he needed to say them out loud.
"I could dance around the subject, but… I'm just going to cut through the crap and put it bluntly," Wilson began. "You were willing to let someone into your life to that extent, because you thought it would make you happy. And it did for a while; you loved her. Then when it turns out you were wrong about the person, not about the concept that you were going for, you became this hard, bitter person you've shown the world for years now. And when Stacy, then Lydia comes into your life, you're willing to let some of that go and move back toward who you were earlier in your life; a man who believed in love and commitment and family. In other words, YOU'VE CHANGED," said Wilson firmly and loudly. "Multiple times, in fact." House glared at Wilson. He knew his friend was right. "Look, House, as much as Lydia's helped widen your social circle with people like Tom and Marianne and you've actually let Slick and his nephew become part of the scene… you're never going to stop busting your team's chops or calling them idiots and morons when they miss your point on things. That's you. If a patient's being a fool, you're going to tell them that in blunt, sometimes cruel terms. That's your way of handling things. You're going to bend rules when needed or just when you feel like doing it. That's… who you are. You're going to try to manipulate people and things to your advantage almost every chance you get. But in your personal life... " Wilson shook his head. "You took the chance with the wrong person. That hurts like hell. You know… that I know what that feels like." House smirked.
"Yeah, almost forgot I was speaking to the winner of the Britney Spears prize for 'Whoops, I Did It Again.'" House looked up at the ceiling. "At least your breaks were clean and easy." Wilson laughed.
"Trust me, House; no divorce is ever easy. Just because there weren't kids involved… "
"You didn't tell everybody where and when to show up, and then have to announce that the bride was going to be a no show because she was never really in love with the groom. Your mother didn't come in from out of town… solo, of course, because Flyboy was too busy with more important things…" House voice trailed off as he closed his eyes. "You never asked your fiancée how she could lie about being in love with you and wanting to have a family with you, and then had to deal with her answer."
"What did she say?"
"That she was no different from anyone else," House said looking at his friend. "That everybody lies; the only difference is the subject matter." Wilson, who was leaning his elbows on the edge of House's desk, clasped his hands together and placed his head on them. "And you thought that was a reading from the Book of House." Wilson shook his head.
"House, you are the most… observant person I know. You read people to a T. How could you have not seen the signs that things weren't going to work for the long haul?"
"I was too mired in a cesspool of emotions," he replied. "You know how I like to get what I want; I was impatient. I saw everyone around me achieving the goal I had set for myself. It didn't sit well with me, so I convinced myself she loved me enough that we could make things work. We weren't even close." House finally reached over, took a sip of his coffee and another bite of pound cake.
"And yet she said yes when you popped the question," Wilson noted. House shook his head.
"Not right away. Told me that I caught her completely off guard; she need a chance to consider things. It seemed reasonable to me. I asked her after we had both worked a twenty-four hour shift."
"Ever the romantic," Wilson commented. House shot him a look.
"I brought a bouquet of flowers and bottle of Moet et Chandon champagne to her place that night. I wasn't impervious to the right way to treat a lady."
"I guess not," Wilson said, sincerely impressed with his friend's actions.
"She said yes the next day, and started on plans for a small ceremony and reception. We were supposed to marry two months later… "
"No sign that anything was wrong?" questioned Wilson. House stared across the room.
"Nope. She even surprised me by getting tickets to a monster truck show; first one I ever went to. Not a hint that she wasn't happy. Just very mellow about stuff that had to do with the wedding. Then again, she rarely let anything bother her; she was very level-headed. I liked that about her." Wilson studied his friend as House drank some more coffee and ate some more cake. He was going to be making a real stretch with his next statement, but he had a feeling he wasn't wrong.
"House… Lydia reminds you of Sara… a lot." House stopped in mid-chew and closed his eyes. He swallowed his food, and turned to Wilson.
"Fraulein doesn't need comparisons to anyone else to be considered an extraordinary person and woman... she can stand on her own two feet on that accord," House said, sounding like he was defending Lydia to his friend. "But, yeah there are similarities on more than one reference point. Hence the need for this conversation that we're having." House looked down at his desk, and once again began to tap his fingers on it. "I need some me time for a little while… I'm feeling things too deeply and it's scaring the hell out of me… I need the physical distance to get my emotional mess in order… " Wilson was sickened at the implication of what House was saying.
"Are you telling me… that you want to break up with Lydia? That you don't love her? Or that you think she doesn't love you?" Wilson was ready to jump up, grab House by his shirt collar, and put him up against the wall. In House's current condition, he just might have been able to do it. But he quickly calmed down as he saw how genuinely upset House was. Not mad, not annoyed… upset.
"I'm well aware of how we feel about each other. And I know she would never pull the same crap that Sara did. But I can't shake the feeling that if I try, I once again will stand on the threshold and have the welcome mat pulled out from underneath me; by myself or someone else. But if I don't try, either Lydia will get tired of waiting, especially after I tell her the tale of my near miss… or I'll realize that she was wrong; I am better off alone." Wilson's mind was spinning; he had to find a way to convince his friend he was being a fool.
"House, you said you don't want to hurt Lydia or the kids; but walking away will do just that. You'd rather think out a problem than talk it out, I know. Just give her a chance and talk to her. The few times you two had a disagreement, I'm… staggered at how calmly you worked things out. I thought Annie and I were good at that; you and Lydia could teach a master class."
"That's because Fraulein very quickly figured out how to deal with me. How to approach me on things, how I reasoned and thought things out. She took the time to put herself in my shoes."
"And my point is you'd be crazy to give that up!" Wilson yelled becoming slightly desperate. He was glad it was a Sunday and no one was on the floor in the hospital.
"And you haven't been listening because you're missing my point entirely!" House shouted back, jumping up from his desk and starting to pace. "The longer I stay, the deeper Fraulein and I get into this relationship; not like we're not up to our necks already. If the time should come when I decide I can't play the part of Father Knows Best, no matter how much I want it… it's going to hurt all the more. I won't do that to Lydia, or the kids… or myself. I have some problems I've got to work out in my head and I can't do it with Fraulein and the kids around me." House slowly lowered himself back into his chair. Wilson realized he wasn't going to be able to talk House out of this. He had made up his mind that this was the best way to handle the situation. No matter what Wilson said, that wasn't going to change. All he could hope to do was keep House talking.
"When do you plan to tell Lydia about all of this?" Wilson could hear the tension in his own voice and he was sure House could pick up on it, too.
"Tonight. After you and Songbird leave, we'll put the kids to bed, and hope that Bell gets the hint to go to bed no matter what time it is."
"Are you going to stay back at your old place? I know you started to move some things out… "
"I have enough still there to get by for a few days," House said abruptly, cutting off his friend. "If I need to, I'll figure things out after that." He looked at Wilson. "I'm taking a step back… for a few days, weeks… I don't know what. I don't want to end things with Fraulein; I want the exact opposite. But I want to make sure I've got my head on as straight as possible before I let myself sink in deeper; I don't want a repeat of last time. A lot has happened, a lot of things… " House took a deep breath. "… Have changed in the months since she came back here. Doesn't mean being together is the wrong thing for us; there's just been too much crap going on." Wilson could understand that sentiment; House's mom dying, confirming that Thomas was his father, the mugging where Wilson nearly died… and a developing relationship. House knew how to juggle literally; figuratively was a much harder trick.
"House, growth is difficult, change… is difficult. The most difficult thing of all is to be stuck in a place where you don't belong." Wilson took a deep breath. "Don't let yourself get mired in a bad situation from the past. That can't end well for anyone." House nodded.
"Back to cheerleading, I see," he said sarcastically. "What you're saying is a big part of what's on my mind. If I can't say for sure that my attraction to Lydia is because of who she is, not because she reminds me of someone else…"
"Your initial attraction to Lydia may well have been based on Sara," Wilson observed. "But I'm sure your love for Lydia is based solely on who she is, not anyone else." House scowled at his friend.
"How is it you've been hitched and unhitched three times when you're so readily able to spew out these little gems of wisdom?" Wilson laughed.
"Easy answer? Opposites only attract for a limited amount of time. You have to have enough in common to be comfortable with each other, but be different enough to keep things interesting. Fortunately, Annie and I have both. And I'd be inclined to say that you and Lydia do, too." House looked down at the floor.
"I guess that's a common rallying cry among the believers of happily never after. When Lydia and I were talking about the chance of this working after she first moved back here, she said the same thing." Wilson smiled.
"It happens to be true. It just took me until now to figure it out." Wilson sat back in his chair and looked away from House. "Which brings me to something of a selfish question. Despite the fact that you and Lydia may not be together… "
"Despite the fact that you're forcing me to wear a monkey suit, I'll play the part of wingman on the nuptial day. You've made me sit and wait for too long while you fiddled about in your search for the right woman. You owe me a front seat to the spectacle," House said with a half-smile. Wilson was becoming a little more relaxed. House appeared to be sobering up, and he could accept House's wanting to clarify things in his mind in reference to Lydia, given his past experience. Having great faith in her ability to handle House also eased his mind; she'd be upset, but in the long run, she was a calming force. There was just one more thing that was nagging at Wilson's mind.
"House, what… brought all of this on? What happened that made you finally decide to tell me about this?" House picked up another piece of cake, but then placed it back down.
"After a few months of living together, I knew I could trust Fraulein, trust her reaction to the news. But there just was always something going on that the time just wasn't right. Then when everything hit the fan at the beginning of October, the way she handled things… put up with my crap when I got wasted after you were diagnosed with cancer, helped to make my mother happy in the last hours of her life… I realized I was so damn lucky to have her. Then I got an e-mail. It was one of the usual professional newsletters that we all get. And front and center was the announcement that Dr. Sara Welles-Henry had been appointed Chief of Cardiology at New York Downtown Medical Center. The article included a picture." House finally put the piece of cake in his mouth.
"Dr. Sara Welles-Henry? I… I remember seeing the newsletter," Wilson said, a bit taken back. He recalled the picture that accompanied the article; Sara was no longer a redhead, but still quite attractive. "It sounds like she did eventually get married."
"Eventually? Try six months after she told me I was crazy to think she wanted to get married. She just didn't want to get married to me," House said with a bitter tone. "She married the Assistant Chief of Cardiology at the Cleveland Clinic." He took a sip of his coffee. "I wanted to tell Fraulein about her; I had already decided to build the new house for us, made the arrangements to take her to Germany, knew I could trust her to help me with my leg… and then the article showed up. Made the decision to tell the whole tale last weekend, but… "
"Everything was going so well, you didn't want to break the mood," Wilson interjected. House nodded.
"After your adventures down a darkened road and my mother… we both wanted and needed the time together. I don't regret it. Then the call came Friday night about Cuddy, Cameron shows up, Alvie comes hip-hopping through the door with a girlfriend and baby-to-be, Mama Cuddy mentions Stacy… even the phone call I made before was a visit to a time gone by." House looked at Wilson. "Of course your little oration in the men's room about letting go of the past added to it all." Wilson was watching House as he spoke; he now looked away toward the conference room.
"At the risk of sounding like Nolan," Wilson began. "You see everyone around you moving forward toward the goal that you set for yourself; to do what John House failed at miserably. What I said to you yesterday was only about Cuddy, but it got you thinking about things that happened a lot further back in your life. That's why you've told me about this and it's why you're ready to tell Lydia." Wilson turned back to his friend. "You want to get this off of your chest and move forward with her; you really don't want to end things." House stared at Wilson with a blank expression on his face.
"You're a moron," he spat out after a few seconds. "If you had been listening, you would have realized I said I have some things to think out and I need some space to do it. I don't want to end things, unless I can think of a damn good reason. If I really wanted to just break up with her, I have the capacity to be a bastard enough to do it." Wilson smiled.
"I was listening. I wanted to hear you say it point blank. You see, my social life hangs in the balance with whatever action you choose to take." House stood up and made a face.
"I suppose you're going to tell me that guys' nights out are finished if I ended things with Fraulein. Songbird will drop me from her approved list of acquaintances."
"No," Wilson replied. "But Annie would be very upset to have the Fearsome Foursome disband." House smiled; the nickname Wilson's fiancée gave the two couples always amused him.
"Do me favor; tell her not to hate me. I'm not trying to be a jerk," House said. "No more so than usual. I have feeling Fraulein's going to want to talk, but I want to keep this between the four us. My inclination is that it won't be necessary to have a Facebook posting about the situation. No one else needs to know." Wilson smiled.
"I'm sure she'll agree with you. About the part of keeping it between the four of us at least," he said. House emptied his coffee cup, then crumpled it up and threw it in the trash bin. He picked up the plastic cup the whiskey had been in and tossed that as well. House re-wrapped the remains of the pound cake and placed it in his top drawer for future consumption. Wilson cleaned up his trash as well.
"I'll clean out the coffee pot," Wilson said heading back to the conference room. "Do you want to take a cup to go?" House was about to answer when he cell phone went off. It was Foreman.
"It's tall, dark and ugly. What up?" he said as he answered the call.
"House, where are you and Wilson?"
"Hiding in a dark place where I hoped you would never… "
"House, get to ICU; Alvie's going into shock." House didn't even respond, but ended the call and yelled out to Wilson.
"Alvie's in shock," he said. "You can play Martha Stewart later." House grabbed his cane and quickly went down the hall to the elevators with Wilson right behind him.
"You were expecting this," Wilson said as they waited impatiently for the elevator car to arrive.
"Yeah, but not this soon. He's lucky he's in a hospital right now, and that's not even a guarantee of anything." The elevator doors opened and the two men piled inside, practically knocking into one another in the process. "Watch it; cripple coming through," said House as he pushed the button for the second floor.
"Technically, I'm one, too," Wilson noted, indicating his hip.
"I'm walking with a cane, you're not; I win," House said. The elevator doors opened onto the second floor; Taub was there to greet them.
"He was becoming very agitated and irritable. He wanted water, so we offered him ice chips. He knocked the cup out of the nurse's hand and started yelling that he wanted water and he wanted you," Taub said as they walked toward Alvie's room.
"Damn! Fraulein's kids aren't even that possessive of me," House noted, glancing into Cuddy's room as he walked by. He entered Alvie's room to find Foreman and a nurse trying to reason with him to no avail.
"Just let the ice melt in your mouth… it'll be just like water," the nurse said. House stepped around the ice that was on the floor and saw that there was a small amount left in the cup that Alvie had knocked away before.
"I called housekeeping to get this cleaned up," Foreman said.
"Least of the problems right now," House said pushing the nurse out of the way. "Alvie! Why are you being more of a pain in the ass than usual?" House reached over and felt the man's forehead. "What's his temp?"
"He wouldn't let us take it," Taub said indicating the ear thermometer on the bed tray. "He said it hurt."
"Hold him down," House directed. Wilson and Taub stepped forward, one on the left, one on the right side of the bed to restrain Alvie. House grabbed the thermometer, pushed Alvie's head to the left and held it down; he stuck the instrument into his patient's ear.
"Ow! OW! Damn! HOUSE!" Alvie shouted. House pulled out the device and read it.
"Two cooling blankets! Stat!" House yelled. Leaving the half-empty cup of ice on the bed tray, the nurse ran out of the room. Her voice could be heard echoing from the hallway, calling for the equipment. "Are there restraints attached to this bed?"
"I'm not… yes, there are," Foreman said after inspecting the under carriage.
"Use them!" ordered House as Wilson and Taub fought Alvie's thrashing around.
"GAH! NO!" yelled Alvie feeling pain as the cloth wraps were placed on his wrists and ankles.
"House… " Foreman said sounding concerned.
"His fever's 105.2 and he's not sweating," House replied. "Get lukewarm sponge baths started, gradually add cold water. We don't want to shock him." The nurse came back in with the wet cooling blankets; Wilson took one, and handed the other to House. They laid them across Alvie from head to toe. Foreman repeated House's orders for a sponge bath to the nurse; an aide had followed her into the room, but now she hurried away to get things started. "Increase the acetaminophen and push two liters of cool saline to get him back to his chillaxed inner self. Is the lab still playing around with his blood work?" House inquired.
"No, it came back a few minutes ago," Taub said. "He's A positive; I've already called down to get the proper type for the transfusion."
"Let me see the lab results," House said. Foreman walked out to the nurses' station with House following. He asked the nurse at the desk for Alvie's blood work results. He and House watched as the aide and nurse brought supplies into Alvie's room to begin the sponge baths.
"It's not dengue fever," Foreman said as the nurse laid the paperwork on the counter between them. Wilson and Taub came over to join them. House quickly reviewed the numbers and variances.
"No it's not; it's dengue hemorrhagic fever," House said. Foreman was surprised; he though perhaps House missed the mark. "Knew it was a remote possibility from the beginning. He's highly atypical of the usual patient with the diagnosis, but the treatment is the same. The course of his symptoms was going to be the telling factor of how to define it." He flipped through the papers again. "His titer numbers are off which tells me he's had this before, probably as child. The high fever would be written off as not being unusual for a kid, and my guess is he made a quick recovery."
"He's also not female," Taub noted.
"And he's long past puberty," added-in Foreman.
"There was no way we could have pegged this from the beginning," House said. "The best we could do was anticipate it."
"Wait about half an hour after they're finished to re-take his temp?" Taub asked. House nodded.
"There won't be a dramatic drop, but as long as the numbers are going in the right direction he'll be fine. He wasn't spiking that long." House looked in toward Cuddy's room. He saw Rachel was asleep on her grandmother's lap; Arlene was also sleeping. "Everything OK in there?"
"Yes and no," Foreman said. "Rachel was doing a lot of crying before. She was back on the subject of wanting to hear her mother's voice. After Arlene settled her down, I asked her if she had any video of Cuddy talking to her daughter, even as a baby. She said she does on her PC back home. The problem is that most of the recent stuff was filmed by Lucas on his camera. Arlene tried to call him again earlier today; he still won't return her calls."
"That's disgusting," Wilson said. "I'm sure Arlene expressed to him what was going on and what she needed from him. To… not even be a man enough to call her back and say leave me alone or go away or… whatever."
"P cubed," House noted.
"What?" Foreman asked.
"Pretty piss poor." House never took his eyes off of the little girl curled up in her grandmother's arms. The situation couldn't have a good ending for the child no matter what way you looked at it. Cuddy's sister was a no-show, and at Arlene's age… Quit worrying about Cuddy's kid, House said to himself. You've got two munchkins at home that take up enough of your time… House closed his eyes. Gladly. When House opened his eyes, he was once again looking at Rachel and Arlene; this time, the scene was especially concerning.
"Tell me, is Mama Cuddy even kinkier than her daughter, or is there a reason why she's rubbing her chest with the kid on her lap?" House asked.
"I saw her doing that earlier," Taub said. "When I questioned her about it, she admitted to me she's had angina for the past year or so. Had a full battery of tests and is taking Ranexa and has sublingual nitro with her. She wants to delay an angioplasty until after… " Taub nodded toward Cuddy, and made a sympathetic face.
"As long as she doesn't keel over on us here, she can be taking Skittles for all I care," House said picking up his cane and taking a few steps away from the counter. "The stress of the whole damn situation is probably what will put things over the edge."
"House, were you planning on hanging around until Alvie stabilizes?" inquired Foreman. "I was hoping you could speak to him, make him understand that he's got to let us help him. He can't be holding out for you all the time." House smirked.
"You just hate it when patients pick favorites, don't you?" Foreman rolled his eyes in response.
"It might be an idea if you did talk to him, House," Taub said. "He was going on and on about his girlfriend being pregnant, and wanting you to check up on her."
"In spite of what he thinks, I'm not the midwife or birthing coach for this venture."
"Maybe have Lydia give her a call tomorrow," Taub suggested. "She's got the right touch of diplomacy and caring; she'll probably keep the woman calm."
"If anyone can do it, Lydia can," Foreman noted. House could feel Wilson's eyes on him as the two other men praised his girlfriend.
"I have to head back upstairs," Wilson began. "I need to clean out the coffee pot in the conference room. Then, I guess we'll just wait around and see how things go since I'm your ride home," he said to House.
"I can always call Fraulein to pick me up; Bell can stay with the kids."
"Nah. Let the ladies have their time together just like we did."
"Oh, so you two were up in House's office," Foreman said.
"I know you'd rather get your jollies by hearing we were holed-up in a cheap, red-light motel, but no such luck," House snarked. Foreman shook his head.
"I just thought I detected the smell of alcohol," he remarked.
"It's my new cologne I'm wearing just for Fraulein. It's called eau de Malcallan." Foreman looked suspicious for a moment, but then he saw Wilson laugh and shake his head. He decided to ignore the scent.
"After you're finished with that, maybe Foreman and I can run out for some dinner," Taub said. "I plan on staying till midnight; it's about 6:30 now, so the timing would work out."
"Sounds good," Wilson said.
"Do you want us to bring you anything back?" offered Foreman.
"Just has some pound cake from my in-house German bakery," House said. "I'll eat when I get home."
"I had a big lunch, so I'm fine, thanks," replied Wilson. "I can always pick up something on my way home with Annie. Let me go deal with that coffee pot; I'll be right back." Wilson went off toward the elevator, leaving House with Taub and Foreman.
"If you can get Alvie to calm down, the nurses and I should be able to handle both of them," said Foreman indicating House's ex-roommate and Cuddy. "The toughest thing will be getting Arlene to go back to the family sleeping accommodations. She doesn't trust Stein not to come in the middle of the night and pull something."
"If he does, the last thing she'd want is to have Cuddy junior witness it," House noted. "Point that out to her and see if you can reason with her that way." The nurse and the aide who were giving Alvie the sponge bath were leaving his room with the towels and water basins.
"Do you want this done continuously or once an hour?" the nurse asked.
"Give him one more treatment for now," House said. "We'll check his temp then and make a decision from there." The nurse nodded and left with the aide to get the necessary items for another sponge bath.
"Can you handle things here while we head out?" Foreman asked House, who scowled at the question.
"Unlike you, I don't know how to scream like a girl, but there's help here if needed. And Rachel Ray will be back soon," he said referring to Wilson. Taub and Foreman looked at each other and headed to the elevators. House turned and stood with his back to the counter by the nurses' station; it gave him a clear view of both rooms. Rachel and Arlene still looked to be peacefully sleeping, while Alvie was restless. House decided to go in and talk to him before the nurse and the aide got back.
"Hey, Little-y Smalls," House said once again parodying a real rapper's name. "You awake?" Alive slowly turned his head to House, his eyes barely open.
"House… damn… what the hell were you doing to me? I felt like I was dying or something," Alvie said weakly. "Did… I do something? Am I under arrest or what?" Alvie held up his wrist as far as the restraints would let him, then looked at House with concern.
"Why? Did you do something that would land you in the Big House?" House's ex-roomie smiled.
"No, no Big da da da House…"
"Alright got it," House said cutting him off. "Look, you have something called dengue hemorrhagic fever. Were you ever really sick as kid with a high fever and rash?" Alvie thought for a moment.
"I had the measles really bad when I was six. I spent two months in bed." House heard movement and saw the nurse and aide were preparing to come back in.
"You didn't have measles. You had a bout of this virus back then which made you all the more vulnerable when you got bitten by an infected mosquito now. If you had waited too many more hours or until tomorrow to come in, we wouldn't be having this conversation."
"Oh, God," Alvie said closing his eyes. "House, you gotta call Carmen for me. I called her this morning and told her I was coming here to see you. My phone's been ringing like crazy in my bag; it's probably her. Please, man… I don't want my lady to worry about me. I don't want her worrying to hurt my bambino." House went over to the closet and removed Alvie's bag. He dug around inside of it, and pulled out a cell phone. House walked backed to the bed, undid the restraint on Alvie's right hand and handed it to him.
"Man, she's tried to call a bunch of times." He held the phone out to House. "I can't talk to her. I can't let her hear me like this. Please… the number's programmed in."
"I'll take the phone home with me and let Lydia handle the call," House said taking the phone back. "She knows what she's talking about, and I think hearing it from another woman might help."
"Yeah, yeah, sure… that's cool. I always liked Lydia. Thought she was amazing for sticking by Annie. Every time I went back to Mayfield… which was a lot… she was always there taking care of her."
"Yeah… she is amazing," House said staring off across the room.
"Dr. House? We're ready to come in and give Mr. Alvarez the next sponge bath," the nurse called in.
"Give me a minute," he replied. "Look, I'll let them release you from the restraints if you'll behave yourself and stop trying to beat up the staff. I have something that resembles a life, so you need to let other people treat you. You still feel nauseous?"
"No. My stomach and throat are on fire, but I don't feel like barfing."
"You're going to start with ice chips… again. You hold them down, and you can move on to clear liquids. I'll write the orders before I go. Let me get out of here and let the hired help do their work." House turned to leave, but he didn't get very far.
"House? Please make sure you call Carmen." House took a few steps back to the bed.
"I told you I was going to do it," he said in annoyed voice. Then he hesitated for a minute as he saw the look on his friend's face. "What made you decide that marrying Carmen was a god idea? Just because she's preggo?"
"No, no… I want us to be together; me, her and the baby. We belong together like a family. I didn't know my old man growing up; he took off right after I was born. I want to do better than he did. I'm thirty-four. I did my thing fighting the system, scamming around, not taking my meds. I'm not gonna to turn into a goody-good, but it's time I played it straighter than I have been. I want to do right by Carmen… I love her." Alvie's words were like a sucker punch to House's brain. More food for thought is not what his over saturated head needed right now.
"I'll ask Lydia to make that call," he said quietly as he turned, and this time successfully left the room. The nurse and the aide then hurried in. "Undo the restraints; he's promised to play nice," House called to them. "Let me have his chart." The nurse behind the counter rose from her seat and retrieved the binder.
"What orders are you writing for him, Dr. House? Cathy and I are covering Dr. Cuddy and Mr. Alvarez," she said indicating the nurse assisting with the sponge bath.
"First order is to call him Alvie; he'll be a lot more cooperative." House then explained the rest of the orders as he wrote them out. "Drs. Taub and Foreman will be covering them this evening," he said gesturing toward both Cuddy's and Alvie's rooms. "They can make changes as necessary." He closed the book and slid it across the counter toward the nurse. Just as he was putting his pen back into his pocket, Wilson came walking toward him.
"How's everything going?" he asked.
"Got Alvie to calm down. Lessens the possibility of combat pay for the employees," House said turning to look at the two rooms again.
"Thank you. Workman's Comp cases are enough of a headache. One connected with a case that the CDC is going to be looking over?" Wilson shook his head vigorously. He looked at his friend and saw he was staring into Cuddy's room. "Something wrong in there?"
"No, just curious about her numbers." House moved off of the counter and toward Cuddy's room. He quietly stepped in and focused on the bedside monitor. Her readings were vastly improved from when she was brought in. He opened up her bedside chart and turned several pages; he was merely trying to kill time and keep his mind off of things until Taub and Foreman got back, but it wasn't working. He gave up and went back to Wilson. "Maybe you can enlighten me. Why is doing something nice always such a pain in the ass?"
"I… I really don't know."
"Because if it wasn't such a pain, more people would be more inclined to do nice things more frequently." Wilson gave House a puzzled look.
"I think the idea is to do nice things despite the fact that they're a pain in the ass." House glanced at his friend.
"You would say that, you wuss."
"What…?"
"Alvie asked me to call his fiancée and let her know how he's doing. I'm going to have Fraulein handle it." House let out a sigh. He never felt so anxious to leave the hospital and so dreaded going home…..
Taub and Foreman came back shortly before seven-thirty. After going over the orders, and bringing them up-to-date on Alvie's temperature, which had dropped to 102.3, House and Wilson headed out to the parking lot. Wilson had made use of the handicapped spots by the ER, so the walk to the car wasn't too far. They had called Lydia and Annie once they realized that they would be leaving, and checked to see if anything was needed from the stores. It turned out Lydia had stopped on the way home and picked up some steaks, so there was dinner waiting for them.
"Did you tell Songbird about our discussion?" House asked as Wilson pulled out of the parking lot. It wasn't that long of a drive back to home, and he wanted to be prepared for whatever attitude might be waiting for him.
"No, I didn't. I thought it would be better if I told her in person after I drop you off." House detected the iciness in his friend's voice. Probably the longer Wilson had to think about it, the more he thought it was a bad idea. But House knew whether he had his friend's support or not, this was something he needed to do. They continued to ride in silence for several minutes, House feeling the knot forming in his stomach as they got closer and closer. Suddenly, several blocks from the house, Wilson pulled over to the side of the road and put the car in park. House looked at him quizzically.
"Your GPS just stopped working?" Wilson drew in a deep breath.
"You're about to hate me, because what I have to say is both emotional and sentimental," he said.
"Oh God, no. Anything but you being emotional and sentimental. I'm even willing to listen to your Spice Girls CD," House said looking through the disc collection in the car.
"House, stop; I'm being serious." House sat back in the passenger seat. He knew he might as well let Wilson have his say. "I've been trying to understand… everything about what you told me earlier today, and I can't. Having some questions about things, yes… but not to the extent of separating or moving out or whatever it is you want to call it. You've told me that when you've needed time to yourself at home, Lydia is so good at giving you your space. I don't get why you just don't tell her about what happened years ago, and then let her know that you need to roll some things around in your head. But… this is your call, your decision." House was beginning to squirm in his seat; he knew Wilson well enough to know the zinger was yet to come. "There is one thing you did help me figure out, and that's why you thought I was the most interesting person at that medical convention. It wasn't because I broke a mirror or got arrested; it was the reasons why those things happened. You saw me get furious when I was served my divorce papers, saw me take off my wedding band, throw it on the ground and stomp on it." Wilson turned to House. "You saw a kindred soul. You saw a guy pissed that the relationship he had bet everything on, got trashed and thrown in his face. You took the chance that you had found a friend." House stared straight ahead, not wanting to acknowledge that Wilson was right. But he knew if he didn't say something, his friend would continue.
"I'm not admitting to anything, but the thought did possibly cross my mind." Wilson shook his head and let House linger in his denial for a few moments.
"House, we've been friends for over twenty years; most of my adult life, in fact. I have seen you miserable, devastated, depressed, suicidal… but it wasn't until earlier this year that I could say that I've seen you truly, genuinely happy. Even with Stacy, you were always holding something back. Now I know it's because you were afraid to fall too deeply in love with her."
"And despite my best efforts I did anyway," House said as he ran his finger long the edge of the door. Wilson nodded.
"After everything that you've gone through in life, you deserve this happiness, House. Trust me." House turned to his right and looked out the passenger side window. Wilson was right; he had been both sentimental and emotional. But House knew a logical, reasonable approach to his situation was the best thing. Keep telling yourself that, you idiot, House said to himself.
"Bravo. I give it a five hanky rating on both heartstring-tugging and nasolacrimal duct production," House said dryly. "Now that the performance is over, could you drive me home?" Wilson stared at House for a few seconds, getting no response. His friend finally turned to him; but when he did, he merely rolled his eyes. "Please get me home. I'm tired already and I'm going to have a long night ahead of me." Wilson reluctantly put the car into gear, and drove away from the curb. In a few minutes he was pulling into the driveway at House and Lydia's place. "Look, I appreciate your concern," House said quietly after Wilson shut the car off. "No matter how things go down, Lydia and I will be OK." He opened the car door and stepped out.
If only I could really believe that, Wilson thought to himself. The two men entered the house through the garage entrance and made their way to the second floor.
"Hey, look who's finally home!" Bell called out. He was sitting at the dining room table playing cards with Ben and Elise.
"Doctors don't keep preacher's hours," House shot back as he reached the top step. Lydia stepped out of the kitchen; she was surprised by the sharpness of House's tone, but chalked it up to him being tired and in pain.
"You two must be starving," she said, giving him a kiss and adding that on to one of the things that could be making her boyfriend cranky. "We have steak, mashed potatoes, carrots… "
"And a fiancée that's falling asleep," Annie said from the couch. Wilson had sat down next to her and put his arm around her.
"Lydia, the food sounds great, but could we take it to go? I'd rather get Annie home and let her settle in for the night if she wants." Lydia went back to the kitchen and pulled a few plastic storage containers out of the refrigerator.
"I'm way ahead of you. Let me just get a bag to put these in. Hon, can I make up a plate for you?" Lydia asked. House felt guilty taking Lydia up on her offer considering what was coming later, but he was too hungry to argue with his conscience for now.
"Yeah, steak and potatoes are fine." He walked over to the dining table. "How's the shoulder?" House asked Ben.
"Feels OK. I was able to take a shower, no problem. The warm water felt good," the boy replied. House was glad to see that both kids were in their PJ's. It would be easier to get them to bed.
"Kids, why don't we call it a night, and we can play again another time," Bell said as he stood up. "Those two are quite the little card sharks," he said to House. "Did you teach them poker? Because they are really good."
"Yeah, I taught them the basics plus a few sneaky details. I learned from the best," House replied glancing quickly at Bell.
"Well, they wore me out. I don't think I'm going to be far behind them when it comes to heading to bed." One less thing to worry about, thought House.
"Here you go," Lydia said to Annie and Wilson who had risen from the couch and headed to the top of the stairs. "Hope you enjoy it."
"I'm sure I will," Wilson said. The two said good-bye to everyone, then Lydia ushered the children toward their bedtime routine. While they were brushing their teeth, Lydia returned to the kitchen to start heating up House's food. She was surprised to see him in there fiddling with the microwave.
"Hon, I was just coming in to do that. Why don't you sit down? Your leg must be killing you," she said.
"I'm fine," House replied.
"Goodnight, you two!" Bell said from the top of the stairs. "See you tomorrow."
"Night!" Lydia said. She turned to her boyfriend. She could tell by the look on his face, and his demeanor that things weren't right.
"Greg, are you OK?"
"No, I'm not… "
"Good night, Mom. Night, House," Ben said from the kitchen doorway.
"Good night, Mommy. Good night, House," Elise added in.
"Night," House replied dully.
"I'll be right back," Lydia said quietly. She hurried her children down the hall. House put his plate on the counter extension, then went into the living room to pour himself a glass of whiskey. He was going to need this. As he re-entered the kitchen, Lydia also arrived through the other doorway. Her head had been spinning. Did something happen to Alvie? Or to Cuddy? "Hon, what's the matter?" It took everything House could muster to get the words out; so simple yet so complicated at the same time.
"Fraulein… we need to talk."