Disclaimer: we own nothing, not even a functioning brain.
Author's note: many thanks to my incredibly efficient and supportive beta reader, coconut_ice22.
Chapter 12 - Special Offers
When he returned to the living room twenty minutes later the air in the room felt different. Cuddy's eyes looked sharp, and they were concentrating on him.
"So far I was here as a friend. Now I'm talking in my capacity of Dean of Medicine. I have a proposal for you."
"I'm not interested. I have no spare time."
"It's Sunday today and your main occupation is currently sleeping, so you can at least listen for a while." When Wilson nodded, she poured herself another cup of coffee and went on talking. "I have been speaking to your psychotherapist and House's. I have also had two neurologist evaluate him during his last sessions."
"I haven't yet gotten their report."
"I did. They're all amazed by how well he's doing. He recovered much more than expected, and his general health is better than...before. The latter can no doubt be explained by diminished Vicodin and alcohol consumption; the former, apparently, seemed connected with him staying in his own apartment and with you, the one person he can remember."
"Glad to be useful."
"Recently, however, the mental recovery has reached a plateau, although at a higher level than could have been expected. So the neurologists have come up with a plan: bringing House back to his job at PPTH."
"This is insane."
"No, it isn't. We've worked it all out. He can have his usual office and sit there every day 9–1. He can play with his ball, his PSP, his computer, lie on the armchair, and when there's a case he gets to stand with the others near the whiteboard and write down symptoms. He can then listen to what the others are saying, and write whatever else takes his fancy. They think there's a small hope that...some of his technical memory might come back. He can write again, can't he?"
"Yes, he can. The same large, legible handwriting he had before. I...I don't know. If the neurologists say so, I'm willing to give it a try. What are the odds?"
"Low. But they think better than if he just stays home, and they can't imagine any negative effect."
"And we all agreed to help him through. We're happy to have him back, whatever he does, including nothing but playing PSP and watching porn." Chase is speaking, but nodding faces around the table show this decision has been approved by all.
"Well, if he can manage to also insult you he will be back to his old self entirely, I guess. I'm just uncomfortable leaving him alone there for so many hours, although I'm sure any of the others would be as good as me in giving him his meds on time."
"What you heard is just half of the proposal. The other half is that you come back and work as guest oncologist with the same timetable. You get your old office back–Brown didn't want it anyway, too far away from the ward. This way whenever House needs you for whatever reason, you're just...there." Cuddy blushes slightly. "All neurologists and therapists said that House could not possibly relax and progress unless he knew you were close at hand."
"And...what does a guest oncologist do?"
"You work with whoever needs a hand. Double check difficult diagnoses. Help plan alternative treatment protocols. More importantly, you talk with the patients. The mortality rate has gone up under Brown's tenure, and the main reason is that the patients are much less cooperative. Some just refuse treatment, even palliative care. He may be technically as good as you, but so are many other oncologists elsewhere; what kept our Department above others was your empathy."
"You want me to come back to help tell people they'll die, because I'm good at that?"
"Yes. Luckily your board certification hasn't expired yet. You'll be paid a pittance, and House won't be paid at all. But the doctors think he could improve a lot. They suggested giving it a try for at least some months."
"What about his physical therapy?"
"We have spoken with every single person who cares for House's physical well-being. After reading the neurologists' panel's report, they all agreed to rescheduling, in order to give him this chance. And all members of the Diagnostics team have agreed to make sure House is never alone."
"We actually get a discount on the clinic hours when we babysit him," added Chase with a smile.
Cuddy smiled. "Consider that my own way of paying House. So, James, what do you think?"
"I am deeply thankful, to all of you. I need time to think. And I want to talk about this with House."
"Of course. Here," she pulled out a thick folder and she passed it to him across the table "is the neurologists' report with their recommendations. Maybe we can have dinner together next week and talk about it. It could be arranged very fast, I already have the necessary authorizations. And..."
The slow steps of a person walking with a cane interrupted her. "Jimmy? When are they going away? It's nice to have friends but they woke me up and now I want to cuddle for a bit."
Wilson turned deeply red, and the others averted their eyes, feeling ashamed at witnessing such a private moment among them. Foreman said quickly "I think we'll be going now. Do you need one of us to stay back and help you clean up?"
"No, thank you. House can help. Thanks for the food, the company and...the opportunity. I'll think of it."
