Chapter 9 Part 2

House turned into the hospital and saw a police cruiser in the drive next to an ambulance. He walked inside and was immediately seen by the doctors who had already treated and sent Philly to surgery. Dr. Townsend, a doctor in his late fifties, started to look at the bruising on House's leg around the scar. House looked over to see Wes being taken by gurney into the elevator.

"Where's asshole going?" House asked.

"Surgery. His humerous is shattered, it's going to need to be pinned. He'll have a hell of a time driving a big rig with that arm from now on. But after what he did to Philly, he deserves it. I heard you did that to him. Is that right?"

House nodded.

The doctor lit up, "Hey,Kathy, it was Dr. House."

A nurse looked up from the charge desk, "Good aim Doc. We're proud of you. I heard he caught ya in bed with Philly? You two an item now or ya just playin' doctor?" There was laughter through the staff that was present.

House looked around, "Look at me. Can you blame her for not wanting a piece of this?" There was more laughter. House turned back to Dr. Townsend, "How is she?"

Dr. Townsend stared at House. He realized that despite the bravado, House really was worried about Philly, "Two broken ribs, one that punctured her right lung. Luckily, she's pretty strong. Her left one didn't collapse, so her prognosis looks good. No broken bones in her face, just bruising and bleeding. But it will look pretty messed up in the photos for his trial." He looked at House's face. "I want a scan of your bad leg, but you're face is okay, just a bruise. I contacted a Dr. Cuddy and she gave me a link to your records, so I'm also ordering blood tests too. Just to see if we have to worry about you throwing clots."

The scan showed that House's leg had been badly bruised, but not broken. Townsend gave House some blood thinners, to insure that another clot didn't develop in the area of the scar. Townsend brought House into the exam room. He sat down and looked House in the eye. House had the distinct suspicion that something was wrong, "You need to wean yourself off of Vicodin. Your AST and ALT are remarkably elevated, you're killing your liver. You've been using too much Vicodin. Get off of them, now. You go much longer and you'll need a liver transplant." He watched House look away and shake his head.

"I can't yet. I need to watch the clinic for the next few days until Philly can get back. I'll get off them after she gets back to work."

Townsend shook his head, "You're not listening. Your liver can't take much more. You need to do it sooner than later." He sighed, "Plus, I think from reading your chart, that you might have opioid induced hyperalgesia. The Vicodin isn't easing your pain, it's enhancing it."

House snapped at him, "What makes you an expert in chronic pain?"

Townsend raised a pant leg and showed him a prosthetic leg. He said soberly and without anger, "Viet Nam. I keep up on all the treatments. I know chronic pain and I know that, after years of use, the opioids made it worse for me."

House gave a curt nod to acknowledge that Townsend was legitimate.

Townsend was stern, "Get off the Vicodin, now!"

"Yeah, but then I can't function."

He took out his prescription pad, "We could put you on Teradol for the first five days after the Vicodin, but then you'd be on your own. Neurontin works in some patients. But not until you wean yourself off of Vicodin. In other words, get off the Vicodin and then we'll deal with the pain."

"How did you do it?"

"Exercise and meditation. Occasionally I take an NSAID, but for the most part, once I stopped the opioids and they were out of my system, the pain actually decreased."

"I need to get Philly up and running again. Then I can take care of myself."

Townsend exhaled in frustration, "Send me a blood sample in four days. If your liver enzymes have gone up, I'm going to hospitalize you. Understand?"

House nodded. He liked Townsend. He was no nonsense and he knew what he was talking about. House had read the same literature about pain control. It was just possible that his Vicodin addiction was increasing the pain.

House took the elevators up to recovery and found Philly in the bed closest to the nurses station. She was trying to come out of the anesthesia, but she was groggy. House chuckled; her eyes looked like a camera lens trying to focus on him.

"Philly! Philly!" House tried to get her attention.

"Huh?" Her voice clearly indicated that she really wasn't fully awake.

House raised his voice so it could be heard at the nurses sation. "Philly, it's okay, everyone knows you broke your rib doing an exotic s & m position. I had to promise the doctor we'd find a new safe word. I guess, "more" wasn't a very good choice."

The nurses at the desk were giggling.

He smiled broadly, "Honey, the doctor told me you can't hang yourself during sex until your lung clears up."

Philly kept trying to follow his face, "Wuh?"

"I got us a third, one of the nurses is into s& m. That means that Wes is out. He plays too rough."

Now there were gales of laughter as the nurses paused to listen to him.

"Greg?" She tried to focus again, but then a grimace flashed through her face. "Agh, the pain. What happened?"

"They did laproscopic surgery to repair and reinflate your right lung. You've got two broken ribs. You'll live, but no torture during sex for awhile."

"Not funny. Wes?"

"He had to have his arm pinned from where I broke it, but he'll live to become someone's bitch in jail."

She shook her head, "I don't want to press charges. I've already screwed over his wife and kids. I don't want them to starve because of me."

House bent over her and sneered. He took two fingers pointed them at her eyes and then his, "Look at me. Look in my eyes."

Philly concentrated on looking up and finding the bluest things in her path of vision. She found them, even though they seemed hazy. "What?"

"He put you in the hospital. You could have died. He owns that stupid rig, he's going to get a light sentence and probation if it's his first violent offence. But you can't let him get away with it. Men who beat women this bad, don't stop because they feel sorry. They stop when it hits them in the purse strings or they find out that they aren't going to get away with it. So, if you want me to stick around, you're pushing these charges." He waited for her response.

A tear ran down her eye to the pillow, but she nodded at him.

"For the record, you did nothing wrong. You didn't know he was married when you dated him and once you knew, you stopped seeing him. Now stop trying to be a martyr."

"Can you stay?" she asked, trying to reach out for a hand to hold.

He grabbed the circling hand and held it, "I'll stay until you go back to sleep, but I have to get back up the mountain so I can open the clinic tomorrow."

She smiled up at him, melting his heart. What if she had lost her left lung? What if it had collapsed too and she died? He decided it was best if he didn't think about it. He grabbed a chair and brought it back over to the bed, sat back and watched television while holding her hand. It didn't take long for her to drop back off to sleep. He stood up, looked down at her and kissed her lips. He said nothing more, grabbed his jacket and left.

"No, they said you have to take the rest of the week off and they meant it." House brought Philly a sandwich in bed.

Philly gave him a pouty look, "But I can do something, I can give inoculations. Take temperatures, blood pressure, blood. I don't have to stand up."

"I've got to get back to the clinic. Now shut up and rest. Here's a book on Cheaters and the Women Who Love Them. Take notes."

Philly knew that she hadn't purchased a book like that, so she grabbed it out of his hands, it was actually a Stephen King book. "Not funny!" She yelled as she heard the front door bang close.

He had picked her up several days before and brought her back, talking non-stop, mostly to himself."I wonder what went through his mind when he saw the ties on the bedposts. Damn, too bad he didn't come a few minutes earlier, he would have been in awe of my incredible control over your body. Of course, it would have ruined the ambiance. Did he ever tie you up?" He turned and looked at Philly who was both silent and annoyed at the one-way conversation.

"Greg, I don't want to think about it. I'm grateful he agreed to plead guilty so that we don't have to tell the world on the stand what we were doing."

He looked at her and raised an eyebrow, "But we were doing it so well."

House spent the Thursday and Friday in the clinic, rushing home to take care of her. He was surprised that he received a certain amount of pleasure from being her nurse. He did the dishes, washed a few loads of laundry, made (or at least heated) dinner, but stopped short of cleaning the bathroom. On Saturday he went to the clinic to open it for the scheduled half day. Philly had just gotten cleaned up and was pouring some tea when she received a call from Mildred.

"Philly?"

"Mildred? Why are you whispering?"

"Calvin McTierney is down here with a gun." She whispered, "I called Sheriff Stone, but he won't be here for another thirty minutes."

"What happened?" Philly was rushing into her room to put on socks and shoes.

"Lori's pregnant, she told him it was Doc House."

"Holy shit!" Philly threw the phone on the bed. Walked as fast as her lungs would let her into the kitchen, down into the basement and grabbed her shotgun, put in several shots and climbed back up the stairs, winded. She was tired from the exertion, but grabbed her keys and took off for the clinic.

Mildred had hung up the phone and yelled down the hall, "Calvin? You want a soda pop?"

Calvin, clearly confused by her offer hollered back, "No thanks, Mildred. I jus' wanna kill the Doc. "

Lori stood by her brother smiling at House, " Well, I don' want him dead. Come on Doc, my ma said she'll sign the paper lettin' us get married in Princeton. Ya know ya want me. I saw it when ya stuck it in me."

Calvin grimaced, "Oh, tha's just sick. A man yo age didlin' a forteen year old? Ya a pervert or somethin'?" Calvin cocked his gun. His red hair and freckled baby-face made a strange juxtaposition to the gun toting macho male holding a gun to House's chest. "I don' think I want ya marryin' my sister. Bad 'nuf she's carrin' a pervert's kid, let alone marry her."

House swallowed hard. He could see that the gun really was loaded and Calvin was pissed. "I didn't diddle her. She's not my type. I like them to have pubic hair."

Calvin looked at his sister, "Don't ya have pubic hair?"

She frowned, "'Course I do! He's just tryin' to squirm out of it."

The room was silent and then they all heard the cocking of a shotgun. Calvin turned to see the shotgun pointed at his head. Philly used her best mother-voice, "Calvin, put...that...gun...down." But he hesitated. She growled, "Now!"

"But he's a pervert! Doc Mac, ya don' want no pervert runnin' 'round here, does ya?"

She looked at him in the eye and, without yelling, said with a coldness that sent shivers down everyone in the clinic, "Calvin, put it down now or I'll shoot it out of your dead little hands. I'm in no mood for men and their violence."

He dropped the gun and she grabbed it from him, handing it and her shotgun to Mildred.

"For Christ sake Calvin, your sister's lying. Dr. House didn't get her pregnant when she was here. He didn't have enough time to even drop his drawers. Look at him, he's old, it'd take him half an hour to find it, another half hour to get it hard."

House opened his mouth to rebut, but Philly gave him a sharp look. He smiled at Calvin instead.

"Your sister was in and out of here in eight minutes. Now come on, stop all of this drama and let me check her out. She needs prenatal care. Besides, Missy, you were suppose to be on the pill. Why did you stop taking it?"

"I hate school. If I get knocked up I don' haf' ta go no mo'."

Philly shook her head, "Yeah, and you're going to find a baby is so much easier to handle than school. Come on, Calvin, Greg, get out of here. I'm going to do a pelvic."

House and Calvin walked down the hall as if nothing had happened. They each took seats in the waiting area which was now empty.

Calvin, looking rather contrite, turned to House, "Sorry Doc, if I'd know ya only spent eight minutes with her I wouldn't haf' ... ya know. I mean, it makes sense. Someone as old as ya couldn't work that fast. I bet it takes a while at your age don't it?"

House just smiled politely without saying a word. The door opened and the sheriff walked in. He looked around, seeing everyone sitting calmly he turned to Calvin, "Well, what's goin' on Calvin? What's ya been up to now?"

House spoke up, "He thought I'd gotten his sister pregnant, but he understands now that I didn't."

"Where's your sis?"

Calvin looked sad, "Gettin' an exam from Doc Mac. She's knocked up good."

The sheriff shook his head, "Damn boy, ya knew she was headed this way, she's sleepin' with anyone that'll give her a dime. Everyone knows Doc House has been screwin' Doc Mac. Ya know Doc Mac, she's not gonna let anyone get away with messin' with her man. Now get up, I gotta take ya' in, unless Doc House says ya can go home."

House debated, but he suddenly understood Philly's concern for the people on the mountain. If he made the Sheriff arrest Calvin, then Calvin's mother and her brood wouldn't get fed for weeks while he was in jail."He looks sorry. He can stay. But I insist you take his gun away from him for a few months." House knew taking a man's gun away from him in the mountains was like getting his penis cut off.

"Where is it?"

House got up and grabbed the gun from behind Mildred's desk, giving it to the Sheriff. The Sheriff unloaded it, handed the ammunition to Calvin, "Next time Calvin, make sure ya got the right man. And I wouldn't be messin' with Doc Mac's man." He nodded at House and then left.

Calvin looked up confused, "Doc?"

"What?" House asked.

"Ya do know that's not my only gun, right?"

"I figured, but it's probably your favorite."

Calvin nodded.

"Well, if you feel anything for your gun as I do for my favorite guitar, then you've learned your lesson."

Calvin smiled, "Yes sir. Ya play guitar? I do...I'm gonna go to Jed's tonight to play. I do whenever I'm up on the mountain. I gotta go back to Beckley tomorrow. I jus' came up ta kill ya."

House shrugged, "I might see you then; I'm going too."

Philly brought the luscious Lori out to the waiting area. "She's about three months pregnant. I gave her some supplements and little books to read. Calvin, make sure she reads them." They got up to leave. "Calvin, next time you bring a gun in here I'll hunt you down myself and when I do you'll have options in the outhouse -you'll get to decide which asshole you want to use. Understand?"

Calvin looked at his shoes and fingered his ballcap in his hands, "Yes Ma' am."

When they left, Philly collapsed into a chair. "Damn, now I'm tired."

"Well, you had her pegged." House said.

Philly took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, "You did too. Some bell went off in that sex starved head of yours that day. You wisely came and found me. It's a good thing we had it documented."

House turned to Mildred, "Mildred, can you lock up? I'm going to take Philly home."

That night, House had a great time playing banjo, guitar and piano with Calvin McTierney, one of the best guitarist he had ever heard. When he got home, he went into the house, took off his clothes and showed Philly what an old man could do.