Chapter 14

Foreman stood across from his brother's room. He wasn't ready to go inside yet. What could they say to each other? And why was he here, now? A young woman approached from down the hall, with two small children in tow. Foreman glanced at her, but paid her little attention, until she slid open the door to her brother's room and went inside. He knew his brother had gotten married, but hadn't realized he had two kids. It was too big a coincidence that this brother would just show up here. Their father must have sent him. Foreman took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He took the few steps across the hall and entered his brother's room.

"Eric," Marcus said when he entered.

"Marcus," Foreman replied. He looked at the floor, uncomfortable. They stood silently, but only for a moment, before one of the children, a boy of about 6, addressed Foreman.

"You look like Daddy," he said. The boy was right. Marcus had a slightly leaner face and build. He was only a few years older than Eric, but his face and slightly graying hair suggested years he had not yet passed. There could be no doubt about the family resemblance.

Looking down at the boy, Foreman was surprised by how much he looked like Marcus when he was young. Only a scar in the boy's right eyebrow broke the illusion that Foreman was looking at a young Marcus.

"You think I look like him?" Foreman asked the boy, who nodded.

"That's your Uncle Eric," his mother said to the boy. "This is David," she said to Foreman, "and that's Johnna," pointing to a little girl, about 3 years old, now sleeping on the chair in the corner of the room, "and I'm Nichelle. It's nice to meet you," she finished, as she extended a hand to Foreman.

"It's nice to meet you too," Foreman replied. "I wish it could have been under better circumstances."

"If these weren't the circumstances, you'd never have met her at all," Marcus said. Nichelle cringed. She knew that her husband and his brother hadn't spoken in many years, although even she had never heard the full story. But that didn't mean he couldn't at least be civil.

"Marcus, please, not in front of the children," Nichelle said, and Marcus turned his head to face the wall in frustration.

"It's okay," Foreman told her. "I wouldn't expect anything different."

Marcus's head snapped back to his wife and brother, but before he could tell Foreman to get out, Chase came into the room from the hall.

"Hi, my name's Dr. Chase. Am I interrupting something?" Chase asked, sensing the tension.

"Nope, I was just leaving," Foreman said, and did just that.

"Okay then. We need to get a little more information about your medical history and your symptoms, and we'll be getting some blood samples to run a few tests," Chase said, settling down in the remaining chair to begin taking notes.

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House slipped into coma guy's room, anxious to hide out from Cuddy and Wilson. Cameron had gone to help Chase with the blood tests, seeing as they were down a duckling on this one, so she was no problem for the moment. His leg hurt, again. He could no longer pretend that this was a one-time thing, or a muscle ache that was brought on by too much exercise. The pain was coming back.

He sat in the chair and put his leg up on coma guy's bed. He rubbed his leg, hoping to relieve some of the pain. It helped, but not much. The pain wasn't quite as bad as it was before the ketamine treatment, but it was small consolation. He'd only just finished rehab. If the pain became too intense, he couldn't go back to using the Vicodin. How would he manage?

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Cameron had taken the blood samples and gone to the lab to begin work. Chase was finishing up the history with Marcus and Nichelle. When he stepped outside the room, Nichelle followed.

"Dr. Chase?" she called.

"Yes?"

"He left out a few things, and I didn't want to scare the kids," Nichelle told him.

"Like what?"

"He's lost weight. I'm not sure how much, but it would have to be around ten pounds for me to notice," she hesitated. Chase placed a hand on her arm to encourage her to continue. "He's been wetting the bed, for a couple of days. And yesterday, he…he had an accident in the afternoon. I know he's embarrassed, but I thought you'd need to know." She looked at him with fear evident in her expression.

"Thank you," Chase said. "We're going to take good care of him." Nichelle nodded, and rejoined her family.

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House walked slowly back into the conference room, where Chase was looking through some test results. He barely looked up when House entered the room.

"Where's Foreman?" House asked.

"Avoiding his family," Chase muttered. House nodded.

"Cameron?"

"Don't know," Chase replied. "The history isn't helping. He started with fever, nausea and vomiting. Then the nausea and vomiting stopped, but not the fever, and then he started having abdominal pain and muscle pains."

"Blood work isn't going to be a lot of help," Cameron said from the doorway. She held the lab results out to House, who took them and looked them over.

"The white count is up, but not a lot. The red count is down, but not a lot. Wow, can you say ambiguous?" House dropped the test results on the table. Cameron sat down and began looking through Chase's notes.

"His blood pressure is elevated," Chase said, "but according to his wife he hasn't been to a doctor in years, so we don't know if that's a pre-existing condition or if it's related to whatever this is."

"Family history of hypertension," Foreman said, coming into the room and getting a cup of coffee. House, Cameron and Chase all stared at his back.

"Foreman, what part of get out did you not understand?" House snarked at him.

"I can't treat my brother, but that doesn't mean I can't be part of the differential. And whose family history are you going to trust, his or mine?" Foreman challenged.

"Good point. So, let's say the hypertension is unrelated. Where does that get us?"

"If the nausea and vomiting were the first symptoms, how about typhoid?" Chase suggested.

"No rash yet," House said slowly. "Okay, typhoid. What else?" House wrote typhoid on the board.

"Melioidosis," Cameron suggested.

"And?" House asked, writing melioidosis.

"Okay, I'll bite, lupus," Foreman suggested. House rolled his eyes, but wrote lupus anyway.

"Lead poisoning," Cameron added. House wrote that down as well.

"Okay, we need an ANA for lupus, a heavy metal level for lead, and blood cultures for typhoid and melioidosis. Go," he shooed them out of the office. Cameron and Chase gathered up some notes and left to run the tests. Foreman remained; he couldn't help treat his own brother.

"Having a nice little family reunion?" House asked with only a mild amount of sarcasm, sitting in the chair in the corner to relieve the pain in his leg.

"Sure," Foreman scoffed. "Haven't seen my brother in ten years, I just met his wife and two kids and he might be dying. We had a grand old time."

"So what happened? Did he steal your lunch box? Break your GI Joe?" House asked.

"You really don't need to know everything, House." Foreman said with disgust. "And if I did want to talk to somebody about my brother, you're the last person I'd pick." He stood and walked out.

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Foreman found Nichelle, David and Johnna in the waiting area outside Marcus's room. David and Johnna were sleeping on opposite ends of one of the couches, and Nichelle was sitting on the floor, her head resting back on the couch between their feet.

"Hey," Foreman said quietly, sitting on the couch across from Nichelle and the kids. He spoke quietly, not wanting to wake them.

"Hey," Nichelle replied. "Any news?"

"Not yet, we've only just started running the tests," Foreman told her.

"Eric, what happened between you two?" Nichelle asked. "He's never told me anything. Just that he had a younger brother who he didn't speak to anymore. I never wanted to push him about it, I'm sure you remember how stubborn he can be."

"Yeah," Foreman nodded ruefully. "When our mom got sick, he wanted me to come home. Not just to visit, he wanted me to drop out of school and move back with the family. I couldn't do that." Foreman stopped. This had never been easy for him to talk about. He'd always given a glib answer when asked why he wanted to be a doctor. Few people knew the truth. "She was diagnosed with early Alzheimer's ten years ago. I was twenty-three, in my first year of medical school. Marcus was working in a garage then, he was a mechanic. First year of med school was enough to know there was nothing I could do about it at home. My mom wouldn't have wanted me to drop out of school. I stayed. It's why I chose neurology. It's why I push myself so hard to the best I can. Maybe someday, if I can get good enough, I can beat it. It'll be too late for my Mom, but I could still do it for her. Marcus was furious. He said I was being selfish, thinking of myself and not of Mom. We just never had much to say to each other after that."

"Eric, I'm sorry," Nichelle told him. "And I think he's sorry too. Maybe he's just too stubborn to make the first move."

"Yeah, well," Foreman said, noncommittally. He stood up, and looked down at Nichelle. "Can I get you something? Coffee, or something to eat?"

"Maybe some snacks for when the kids wake up?" Nichelle asked. Foreman nodded. He glanced across the hall at his brother, who appeared to be sleeping, before walking down the hall to the vending machines.