Kelly was just getting out of the shower when House texted her.
x- Change of plans -- new patient. Meet me. -x
He'd told her during one of their talks that he often only had one patient at a time. She figured if her case was in danger of being put on the back burner she may as well size up the competition.
x- Getting dressed. When/where? -x
She didn't take the time to dry her hair, but found herself preening in front of the mirror a little more than usual. That seemed healthy to her, so she didn't allow herself to overanalyze just who she was preening for.
The competition was much smaller than expected; not in severity of condition but in stature. It was also much louder than expected. One nurse was trying to restrain the screaming child while another was unsuccessfully attempting to get blood. House was no where to be seen.
"Is this Dr. House's patient?" she called over the pandemonium.
It was the child's mother, who Kelly could see was considerably younger than herself, that answered. "Yes; do you work with him? Can you tell me what's wrong with my baby!?" The young woman --- girl, really --- was already crying, and for a moment Kelly was transported back in her memory to a time when she'd been asked the same question by one of the girls at the shelter who'd just given birth. That time, Kelly had the answer; the baby had been stillborn.
She returned to the present and was filled with compassion. "What's your name, honey?"
"Jen," she sniffed.
"Jen, I'm Kelly, and I'm a friend of Dr. House. He's a great man with a great team, and they're going to do everything they can to figure this out. Okay? Now is there someone I can call for you?"
The girl shook her head, no.
House appeared then, and motioned to her from just outside the room.
"I'll be right back." She closed the door behind her. "Hi, Greg."
"I've called Kutner back in, but it looks like I'm going to be awhile. If you want, you can wander around and try to find a cute orderly to cuddle up with."
"I'd much prefer a cute doctor, thanks."
"Snob." He winked at her. "I'll call up to your floor nurses and they'll figure something out."
"Listen, Greg, it's early yet, and since I actually got some sleep last night I've got a few hours left in me. Why don't you let me help you? I obviously have some experience with teen mothers."
House liked the idea of having her around, and not just to deal with the emotional young woman who would no doubt get in his way. But still he wavered. "You need to be monitored. It doesn't generally help a family's confidence in the medical staff when other patients are dropping dead right in front of them."
She scoffed. "I know I don't have "M.D." on my stationary, so you'll probably be surprised to know that I'm quite adept at operating a thermometer. In fact," she produced one with a flourish, "I have one right here in my pocket for this very occasion." Then she smiled sweetly at him and led the way back into the room.
It turned out to be a wonderful arrangement. Kelly was in her element, easily developing a rapport with the girl and serving as a buffer between her and House, who was then freed up to focus on the son. She learned that Jen had been living in different women's shelters since she'd run away, not because of abuse or neglect, but because of the ordeal that had taken place when her parents had learned of her pregnancy. She hadn't been in contact with them since.
Kelly talked with her into the night, long after her son had been stabilized and taken for testing and eventually fallen asleep. And in the end she had held the girl's hand when she called her mother, and was there when 45 minutes later both of her parents appeared in the waiting area and tearfully welcomed her back to their family.
Kelly was exhausted --- and nearly two degrees colder than she should have been --- when she made her way to House's office. She found Kutner working behind his desk and House asleep on the couch, a file open on his chest.
"He just nodded off," Kutner explained quietly. "How is the boy's mother?"
"I convinced her to call her parents; they're with her now." She carefully removed the file from the sleeping House and closed it, setting it aside. "She'll be fine. And the boy?"
"We've got a few theories. At this point it's a waiting game to see which pan out." He came around the desk and did a nonchalant exam, checking her colour and touching her arms and forehead. "You're feeling cooler than I'd like. Let's take your temperature."
"I just did. Whatever your plan is to keep me alive through the night, this would probably be a good time to get started."
Kutner glanced at House, then back at her. "Umm... Okay. Uh, well I think Dr. Foreman... Ummm..."
She was too tired to play dumb or act coy, so she let him off the hook, smiling. "I don't want to sleep with you, Dr. Kutner, if that's what you're trying to ask. No offense, of course; I'm sure you're a really nice guy. But I imagine you're going to be busy with your new patient."
Kutner smiled too, sheepishly, and said, "Maybe I'll wake Dr. House and see what he thinks we should do."
"Good idea, but you'd better let me do it. I suspect he's even more of a bear than usual when you wake him up, and as a patient I've got the Hippocratic Oath on my side."
She could see that he was both amused and bemused, and utterly unsure of the right thing for him to do in this situation. Her confidence was winning him over but he also knew his role and wasn't sure he could justify leaving House alone to deal with any patient, let alone one like her. "Um..."
"Tick tick, Dr. Kutner. I'm about to turn into a block of ice here."
"I... Uh... Well, okay then." He gathered up some files and loose papers and tucked them under his arm. "I'll just, uh..."
"I'm sure Dr. House will page you if we run into any trouble. You just worry about the little boy."
"Uh, right."
When House heard the door close, he opened one eye and said, "I think he has a crush on you."
"And he IS a cute doctor. I should have bedded him down while I had the chance." She wasn't sure if it was her health or the late hour, but she could feel herself starting to falter.
He struggled to his feet, reaching into the pocket of her sweater and finding the thermometer. "You think he's cute?" He waited a moment for the beep and then looked at it with a frown. "I pictured you going for someone taller." He pocketed the thermometer himself and rubbed her arms through the heavy fabric to warm her, obviously concerned and formulating a plan.
"Oh really? How tall?"
"I don't know." He held his hand just at the crown of his head. "Say, this tall?" She laughed weakly, and he leaned past her to grab his cane where it stood against the wall. "You shouldn't have let it go this far. Can you walk? Should I get you a wheelchair? Because I'm not going to be able to carry you." He led her toward the door, hefting his knapsack to his shoulder as he passed by it.
"Depends on how far we need to walk."
"There's a shower room on this floor."
"I just showered." She could hear herself whining but was beyond the point of being able to care.
But there was no other option that the two of them could handle on their own, and after the adventures of the evening Kelly was looking forward to some quiet time apart from a lot of medical hustle and bustle. She opted for a wheelchair so at least she could shower in the privacy of her own room. All the floor nurses must have been occupied because they saw no one when they arrived.
She insisted on refusing his help, and he insisted on refusing to be refused. It turned out to be the right decision, because while she was struggling to get undressed she lost her footing and would have hit her head had he not been there to catch her. At that point he resolved to ignore her protests and took over, stripping her down to her bra and underwear and setting her under the warm water, standing just inside the large shower stall until he could see her visibly revive. Only then did he make a concession for her modesty and close the curtain with him on the outside.
His own fatigue was taking over, and understandably so; it was well after midnight. He dug through his backpack to find his toothbrush, which he used. Then he weighed some pros and cons before changing into the shorts and tee shirt he had packed. The sleep lab had a bigger bed, but getting her there would require more energy than either of them had. They would stay in her room that night.
Making sure she was okay, he left her alone in the bathroom and entered the main room, locking the door and closing the blinds. The nurses had been told that the patient was in the sleep lab, so no one would think to check in. He climbed into her bed to wait.
15 minutes later she emerged dressed and dry except for her hair which she was attacking with a towel. Not questioning his decision to stay here, she pulled back the covers. "Oh." His shorts had ridden up so she could see the scarring on his thigh. Self consciously he moved to cover himself, but she stopped him. "No, let me see." Her hand, now warm from the heat of the shower, traced the contours of the deformed tissue.
He met her eye, expecting pity but not finding it. Instead he saw what he could only interpret as acceptance. He rested his hand over hers, squeezing gratefully. "Ready for bed?"
This night they assumed a posture that was markedly more intimate than the night before. He remained on his back and she was tucked into his side, her head under his chin and her hand over his heart.
After a few minutes of quiet, he said softly, "Thanks for tonight."
"I was glad to be there." She yawned. "I'm just happy I was able to help that poor girl. I hope her son will be alright."
"He will. And so will you. I'm VERY good at what I do."
"I'll believe THAT when I see it..." And before she could say anything more, she was asleep.
House was blissfully drifting off himself when the thought of his best friend entered his mind unbidden. And he felt guilty. Guilty that he wasn't alone when he knew that Wilson's bed must seem so empty. Guilty because he had been able to spill his guts to a total stranger and still go far beyond looking her in the eye ---she sighed in her sleep and he smiled in spite of himself --- when he couldn't even bring himself to stand in the same room with the man who'd stood by him for years and see what happens after "I'm sorry".
He felt guilty, but he slept nonetheless.