Kutner wheeled House down to Radiology and conscripted a room - House's team automatically had priority on the equipment, anyway, and with House himself in the wheelchair, the receptionist bumped the entire list without a second's hesitation. No way she was going to delay, comment, or otherwise in any way draw attention to herself.

Once in the radiology room, Kutner instead of setting up for an x-ray got a blood pressure cuff and pulled out his stethoscope. House immediately sat up straighter in the chair in protest, jerking his arm away. "In case you haven't noticed, the problem here is with the ankle, and it's located downstairs. You must have missed that day in Anatomy 101."

Kutner gave a disarming grin but did not yield. "Basic triage. Any doctor down in the ER would get the same information, no matter what the presenting complaint, and if you'd rather head down there into the busy weekend crowd instead of dealing with me here, that's fine. I'll push you."

House sighed and held out his arm. "Hurry up. We have a 7-year-old girl deteriorating on us, in case you haven't noticed. By the way, what were you going to tell me? You called out to me just before I turned around."

"I heard from Taub. They've found three of Cathy's close friends who are also sick. One of them was in the hospital already, Taub and Thirteen found neurological signs on the other two and convinced the parents to take them in. Those two seem to be a bit behind Cathy's schedule, the one in the hospital already is worse than she is, but it looks like the same thing."

House shook his head. "This has GOT to be environmental. Assuming that the whole school isn't sick, we need to find the common denominator on those four. Where have they been lately? Any new places to play?"

"They're working on it up there, will talk to the kids more as soon as they can, but the parents are freaking out, of course. We need to talk to Cathy again, too."

"I'll do it," House insisted.

Kutner looked at him curiously before putting the stethoscope on and listening to House's chest. "Take a deep breath. Do you know Jensen from somewhere before?"

"Why?" House took a deep breath before he realized what he was doing, then abruptly knocked the stethoscope away. "Checking breath sounds for a sprained ankle is NOT standard procedure. Vitals, maybe, but exam after that focuses on the injury. And there is NOTHING in general wrong with me."

"You just seem - more familiar with Jensen than with standard patient's family. I wondered if you'd met somewhere before."

"We met at a conference once," House said. "Spent an interesting evening talking together. Unlike most idiots there, he wasn't boring."

Kutner eyed him, then removed the stethoscope from his ears. "Well, all of your vitals are perfectly normal. BP on the high side of normal, but still within normal, and that's explainable by pain. No fever, lung sounds absolutely clear."

"In other words, as I said, I'm FINE. Can we get on with this?"

Kutner finally switched operations to the lower extremity, but he started in the thigh, palpating it gently. House pulled away as far as he could while in a wheelchair. "The leg has been hurting you more the last few days," Kutner noted.

"We had a lousy weather week all week with that front coming in."

"Bright and clear today." Kutner shook his head. "I saw that fall. That was NOT losing your balance."

House sighed. "I turned around too fast when you called me - you did see me turn around fast, right?" Kutner considered it, then nodded, conceding that point. "I'd been standing for quite a while, and the leg objected to me turning suddenly like that. That's what made it hurt, and that's why it folded. End of case."

Kutner still was a bit dubious. He knelt down to study the foot, looking at the toes this time, not the rapidly ballooning ankle. He pushed against the nail beds. "Capillary refill is good."

"Believe me, if I thought I had another clot, I'd wheel myself to the ER. I don't ever want to go through that again. I just turned too quickly."

Kutner sighed and hung a mental note to talk to Wilson again when he got a chance. Wilson was less likely to be fired as friend if he got House annoyed. Kutner started setting up the x-ray arm and a wall plate. "Okay, standing is better. Think you can stand for these?"

House lurched out of the wheelchair, right foot barely touching down, and balanced himself against the wall, ankle squarely in front of the x-ray arm. "Get on with it." Kutner retreated behind the radiation shield, and several minutes later, they were both studying the films on the wall box.

"Bad sprain," Kutner concluded. "No fracture." He studied the ankle. "I'd really recommend an air splint on it, at least at first. That's easier to take off and on than an Ace wrap, anyway, and it will support you more. The wheelchair wouldn't be a bad idea."

"No," House said with absolute steel in his voice.

Kutner did know when to back off. He'd pushed House as far as he could at the moment. "It'll have to be crutches, then. You don't need to be weightbearing on this. Trying the cane is just asking for another fall." House looked at the x-rays again, then sighed and nodded. Kutner disappeared for a few minutes, then returned with an air splint and a set of crutches. He knelt to apply the splint, then handed the crutches to House, watching and deliberately not helping as his boss pried himself out of the wheelchair and got his balance. House had used crutches before, both for a while after the infarction and many times in his childhood. He hobbled a few steps, getting the feel of it. Left wrist still somewhat stiff, but this would work.

"House," Kutner said, and House cut him off at the pass.

"Yes, I am SURE that I'm fine."

Kutner held out his hands dismissively. "I was just going to say, it's interesting that the patient's father is a psychiatrist. I saw a psychiatrist several years ago for a while, dealing with some old issues from my parents getting killed in front of me. It really helped. One of the best things I've ever done, and I wish I'd gone sooner. I hate to think what might have happened eventually if I'd never gotten into therapy." He turned to exit the room at full speed, not waiting for his boss's reaction to that. "Got to go check on the patient."

House was left standing in the middle of the x-ray room, propped on crutches, staring after Kutner. Damn. The kid was far too perceptive for his own good. On the other hand, if he'd been through therapy himself, he probably would understand not wanting to have it passed around on the workplace grapevine. No, Kutner was most likely safe with that secret.

But House still needed to decide how to explain his ankle to Cuddy. With a sigh, he hobbled toward the door.