One more chapter before I go to bed. I don't own any of the House kids, just the O/Cs.
# # #
House didn't have time to think about his conversation with Wilson the rest of the day, thanks to the constant ups and downs of his patient. Things finally seemed to settle down late in the evening as the team gathered once again around the conference room, the whiteboard packed with symptoms, causes, and possible diseases.
Four pagers went off simultaneously, and the four of them looked at each other in exasperation. House leaned heavily on his cane and started to rise from the chair.
Foreman fixed him with a heavy scowl. "Stay put, House. I'll keep you posted."
House glared in response. "I'm not a fucking invalid. I'm going."
Foreman considered several responses and rejected them all. House was the human equivalent of a freight train, both physically and personally. It was probably better in the short run to just let the man go his own way. At least this way Foreman could keep an eye on him...if he could keep up with him.
He followed House onto the elevator, watching as the older doctor kept tapping his cane on the floor, clearly deep in thought.
"I know I'm going to regret asking this, but...are you okay?" Foreman asked warily, fully expecting House to bite his head off.
House glanced over at Foreman, briefly frowning. "Wilson? Is that you?" He closed his eyes and leaned against the back of the elevator. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"Okay." There was a brief silence before Foreman broke it again. "You'd tell me if you weren't, right?"
"You're being paranoid." House growled. "Knock it off before I start calling you Cameron."
"Now that was just uncalled for." Foreman looked genuinely offended. "Ass."
"That's better." House smirked. "Welcome back, Foreman."
They stepped off on their patient's floor, meeting Taub and Thirteen just outside the room. Foreman immediately took charge. "What happened?"
"Allergic reaction to the antibiotics." Taub answered. "Odd, since there's nothing about that in her medical records."
"Get out." House snarked. "A patient with omissions in her medical history? Inconceivable." He paced up and down the hallway, ticking off symptoms and treatments in his head, muttering to himself.
Taub and Thirteen looked at each other, then at Foreman. "Is he okay?" Thirteen ventured.
"He's fine." Foreman assured her. "Probably just thinking. Kind of like what we should be doing."
"Could use some ideas, kids." House snapped as he returned to the group. "I'm not allowed to work alone."
Foreman rolled his eyes. "Let's get her on the other antibiotics and see what happens. I'll stay down here to monitor her while you two go back upstairs with House."
The other two doctors nodded and started to follow House.
"Doctor House?" An oddly familiar voice made House turn around.
"You kids go back upstairs. Someone wants to talk to Daddy alone." House sent the other two doctors back up to the conference room as the man approached him.
Slowly House put it together. He leaned on his cane, narrowing his eyes at the blond man. A wedding ring glinted on his left hand, and a concerned look crossed his features as he extended his hand to House.
"That's my wife in there, you know."
"Kind of figured." House tentatively shook the other man's hand with a skeptical look on his face. "That the one that's divorcing you, or was that some other wife?"
Drew narrowed his eyes at House. "My wife's dying and you're making jokes. Nice."
"Funny. You didn't give a shit last week." House moved closer until he was practically in the other man's face. "All you cared about was trying to get into Tony's pants."
"That's not true..." Drew looked appalled at House's assertion. "I was...scared, confused..."
"You're so full of shit." House snarled. "That idiot loved you. Did you know that? Damned if I know why."
"I loved him too." Drew answered quietly. "Still do."
"Un-fucking-believable." House shook his head, turning to walk away. "Your wife's been sick for what, two, three months?" A thought seemed to occur to him. "She wasn't divorcing you. You were..."
Drew's eyes filled with panic. "I didn't do anything to her, I swear."
"Foreman!" House bellowed down the hall, snapping the neurologist to attention. "What about heavy metals?"
Foreman quickly strode to where House and Drew stood. "What about them?"
"Have we tested for those yet?"
"We...didn't have a reason to." Foreman looked slightly baffled as he considered the possibility. "Heavy metal poisoning would fit the majority of her symptoms. I'll set it up."
A slow smile curled onto House's lips as Drew squirmed in front of him. "You could save us a lot of trouble if you just told us what you poisoned her with."
"I didn't poison her." Drew looked House dead in the eye. "I love her. Why the hell would I do that?"
"As you can probably tell, I wasn't born yesterday." House snapped as he thumped his cane repeatedly on the floor. "How long were you planning on stringing Tony along, anyway?"
"Oh come off it!" Drew thew his hands up, thoroughly exasperated with House's harassement. "You know how guys like us are."
House regarded him skeptically. "What do you mean, 'guys like us'?"
"Come on, now." Drew smirked at him. "Men...women...it doesn't matter to us. It's all good, right? You mean to tell me you don't check out that hot little number that was down here earlier? I mean...we're different, you know?"
House's hand curled around his cane, resisting the urge to bash Drew in the head with the wooden object. "I can't speak for you, but when I find a good thing," House spoke in clipped tones. "I hold on to it. Male or female...It. Doesn't. Matter." He was nearly spitting in the man's face with anger.
"House!" Foreman made his way over to the two men. The older doctor looked as if he were ready to knock the other man on his ass, and Foreman was ready to intervene. "The lab's running the heavy metals test right now. It won't be ready for a while, but we can probably stop the antibiotics in the meantime."
"Sounds like a plan." House nodded firmly, backing away from Drew. His phone started chiming in his pocket, and House pulled it out, checking the Caller ID. "Speak of the devil. I'll tell him you said hi."
He flipped open his phone as he started down the hall, barely noticing Foreman keeping pace next to him. "Hey, Tony."
"Hey, you." Anthony's bright voice carried into his ear. "Just thought I'd check in before I started cooking."
House and Foreman stepped onto the elevator. "I don't know when I'm getting out of here. Goddamn patient keeps trying to die on us."
"No problem." Anthony moved around his kitchen while he talked, tossing Simon a corkscrew to open the bottle of wine he preferred to Anthony's beer. "Think I'll hang out with Simon tonight, if that's okay with you."
House rolled his eyes. "I don't see why not. It'd be like me hanging out with Wilson."
"Speaking of...is he okay? He seemed kind of upset last night."
"I guess." House frowned. "Been kind of busy today with all this doctor stuff." His and Foreman's pagers started going off simultaneously, and House used his cane to send them back down to the patient's floor. "Goddammit. Gotta go, Tony. Dying patient."
He snapped his phone closed and shoved it back in his pocket, glancing over at Foreman. Foreman regarded House with an arched eyebrow. "So it is true."
"What's true?" House glanced at the pager before shutting it off.
"You and that guy I did the neuro exam on."
"You don't know that." House snarked. "Could be a different guy for all you know."
"Right." Foreman rolled his eyes.
"Anyway...crisis first, lame attempt at poking into my personal life later." House limped heavily off the elevator toward the patient's room, nearly shoving Drew out of the way as he passed.
"What's happening?" Drew sounded panicked. "What the hell is wrong with her?"
"That's why we're here." House bellowed over his shoulder as he charged into the room, leaving Foreman behind to deal with Drew. "Dumbass." He muttered before barking at the nurses. "What happened in here?"
"I was doing my rounds when she started bleeding out." One of the nurses spoke up.
"Really..." House frowned as they prepared to move the patient.
"We're sending her to an OR right now." The same nurse informed him.
House nodded, following them out of the room and limping over to Foreman. "Tell hubby here that the little wife had a big bleed. She's headed for surgery right now."
Drew went pale. "Is she going to be okay?"
House turned and glared. "Do you care?"
"House!" Foreman hissed.
"Of course I care!" Drew seemed shocked at House's words.
House waved his hand carelessly as he followed the leaving patient. "Doctor Foreman here is her doctor. He'll fill you in."
Drew watched House go, his anger building. If House thought he could screw with Drew just because he was Anthony's man of the moment, he had another thing coming. God help the old bastard if anything happened to his wife. It would be a very bad day for House if that was the case.
# # #
The early morning light was starting to find its way into the diagnostics department as House stood in front of the whiteboard, staring at the ever-growing list of symptoms. He scowled as he crossed heavy metals off the list of causes. It would have explained so much, but the lab results had come back negative, and he couldn't argue with concrete results.
He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something missing as he limped over to the coffeemaker, pouring himself yet another cup of the slightly bitter brew. It didn't even come close to comparing to Anthony's coffee, and he suddenly found himself missing the guy.
"House." Foreman mumbled from the chair he leaned against, rubbing his eyes. "Go home for a while. We can handle things here."
"Not happening." House grumbled as he paced around, trying to get his tired brain in gear.
Taub roused from where his head lay on the table, blinking as he looked around.
"Morning, sweetheart." House snarked at the shorter man as he rose and stretched.
Taub barely batted an eyelash as he headed over to the coffeemaker, pouring the last of the pot into his cup and starting a fresh pot. He studied the list of symptoms, squinting in thought. "We've ruled out tumors, neurological disorders, infections, viruses, and fungi. What the hell is left?"
"Poison could still be on the table." Thirteen seemed to come to life, blinking her feline eyes as she leaned back in the chair.
"She tested negative for heavy metals." Foreman pondered. "Tox screen was negative, too."
"We're missing something." House was leaning his forehead against the whiteboard. "Something that doesn't show up on either screening."
Four pagers started screaming at once. "Oh for fuck's sake." House raged as led the charge out of the conference room, the rest of the team behind him as they rushed to the patient.
If Drew was anywhere around, House didn't notice. He was focused on the patient as the nurse updated him.
The patient was in the throes of a massive seizure, foamy blood flowing out of her mouth. "Taub, get a sample." Foreman spoke up before House could, and Taub quickly grabbed a tube to collect the foamy blood as the seizure finally abated, all vitals returning to normal.
House stood off to the side, tapping his cane in thought. Seizure activity usually had a common trigger. If they could find the trigger...
"What was happening just before she seized?" He asked one of the nurses.
She tilted her head, trying to recall. "I think her husband might have been in here visiting."
"Really..." House scowled. "Thirteen! Go hunt down hubby. Find out how he's triggering her seizures."
Thirteen looked baffled, but went in the direction of the nurses' station to have him paged.
"Doctor House?" The nurse nervously approached him. "She was conscious when he came to visit her. I overheard them talking."
House rolled his eyes. "Well, that would have been helpful information to have, say...ten hours ago."
"House! Shut the hell up!" Foreman snapped, the lack of sleep fraying what was left of his temper.
The nurse folded her arms over her chest, a stubborn tilt to her chin. "I wasn't here then. I just came in at midnight."
House nodded firmly and left the room, turning over the mystery in his mind. This thing was just getting stranger by the minute, and he knew they were running out of time.
"We'd better find a connection, fast." Foreman voiced House's thoughts. "I don't know how many more seizures she can live through without suffering some sort of damage."
Thirteen trotted back to the two of them, glancing between the two men. "He's not answering the page. I'm going to go through his contact information and try to get a hold of him."
"Jesus." House growled. "First we couldn't get rid of him, now the son of a bitch has disappeared."
Taub caught up with House and Foreman, moving quickly to keep up with them. "Dropped off the foamy blood at the lab. They're going to run complete blood work-up on it. Maybe it'll turn up something."
House nodded, the adrenaline leaving his body. A deep bone-tired feeling settled over him as he seemed to slump over his cane.
"You going to make it?" Foreman regarded House with guarded concern. "You're not looking so hot."
"You're looking pretty shabby yourself." House grumbled in reply. "I think there's a wrinkle in your jacket."
Foreman rolled his eyes. "At least go crash in your office for a while. I'll handle anything that comes up."
"Don't need to." House snarled as they stepped on the elevator. "Haven't we had this conversation already?"
"Yes, and now we're having it again." Foreman snapped back. "Look, we've been working on this for damn near twenty four hours. Get some goddamn rest."
"Fine." House finally gave up the fight. "I want to see the results as soon as they come in."
"You'll be the second one to know." Foreman assured him as they stepped off on the fourth floor and strode to diagnostics. House turned into his office while Taub and Foreman entered through the conference room.
Taub pulled his wallet from his back pocket, pulling out a fifty dollar bill. "Pretty sure I owe you this."
Foreman arched his eyebrow as he looked at the money Taub held out to him. "What changed your mind?"
"Rachel and I ran into them at the movies over the weekend." Taub explained. "They seemed pretty...happy together."
Foreman chuckled as he pocketed the money, thinking back to the phone call he had overheard last night. House's voice had taken on an affectionate tone that he didn't think he had heard from the man before.
Whatever House had going on seemed to be working with him. It was odd picturing him with a guy, but oddly enough, Foreman didn't particularly care. It was making him a hell of a lot easier to work with, and if House was some version of happy, that was good enough for him.
# # #
An oddly familiar smell awakened House a couple of hours later, and it took him a few minutes to find his bearings. He opened his eyes to see Anthony sitting on his footstool, a smile lighting his face.
"Morning, Sleeping Beauty. Or afternoon, in this case."
"What the hell are you doing here?" House grumbled as he pushed himself to a full sitting position. "Not that I'm not glad to see you or anything."
"I'm up here working on the pain study and thought I'd drop in." Anthony lightly rubbed House's shin. "Are you up for some lunch? I'll pay."
House grinned a little. "Maybe. I need to clean up first, though." He dug through his backpack for his pain meds, popping one out of each bottle while rubbing his thigh. "Can you rub a little higher? Just for a minute."
Anthony arched an eyebrow. "How much higher?"
"Funny boy." House chuckled. "Not that high. I am working, you know."
Anthony smiled as he worked around House's scar, feeling the tension release as he pressed into the muscle. "God, you must have put a hell of a lot of miles on this thing last night."
"Yeah. Too much, probably." House closed his eyes, sighing a little as the muscles relaxed, the pain easing up to something more managable. "That's good. Thanks."
"Anytime, hon." Anthony lightly patted House's leg. "I'll meet you in the lobby. Just call me when you're ready.
"Will do." House wrapped a hand around Anthony's neck, pulling him down for a quick kiss just as the office door swung open.
Foreman stopped short when he came upon the pair, clearing his throat. "Got those test results you wanted to look at."
House looked them over, a slow smile taking over his rough features. "That's kind of what I thought. You already started treatment?"
"As soon as we got the results." Foreman nodded. "So far she seems to be improving."
"Hubby ever show up?"
Foreman shook his head. "Hadley's still trying to contact him."
"Huh." House pondered the situation, then pushed himself out of his chair and picked up his backpack. "Think I'll go clean up and go to lunch, if that's okay with you."
Foreman rolled his eyes. "You know it is. Just go."
House grabbed his jacket and headed out the door, Anthony easily catching up with him. "Back in a while."
The two men boarded the elevator, and House punched the button for the floor containing the locker rooms. "I shouldn't be too long." House lightly squeezed Anthony's fingers as he stepped off. "Call you in a few."
Anthony briefly squeezed back before House released his fingers and went on his way, popping in his ear buds and turning on his I-Pod. He grinned as the opening chords of 'Sunshine of Your Love' started, cranking it up as the elevator doors closed, carrying him to the lobby.
He stepped off, finding a bench to sit on, pulling out his book. A shadow crossed over him, and the achingly familiar scent of Polo washed over him. He quickly pulled out his ear buds and looked up to see a very rough looking Drew sitting next to him.
"What the hell are you doing here?"
"My wife's been sick, and she was sent here. Your gimpy old boyfriend's been working on her." Drew narrowed his eyes at Anthony. "I tried to track you down last night. Where were you?"
"At home." Anthony answered in clipped tones. Normally he would have gone to the bar with Simon, but he just hadn't been up to it last night. Instead, he and Simon had hung out and had dinner at Anthony's, just catching up with each other and enjoying each other's company.
"Oh." Drew's eyes seemed to be looking far off into the distance. Anthony turned, seeing the same thing Drew did. House was limping heavily toward them, his sunglasses already over his face, trying to hide his tired eyes.
House lifted his shades when he saw Drew as he gently grasped Anthony's shoulder. "Looks like your wife's going to live. Congratulations." House intoned mildly.
"Really?" Drew's facial expression barely changed. "So what was it?"
"Turns out it wasn't anything you did." House sounded almost disappointed. "She had a parasite that spread from her stomach to a few other organs, including her brain. We've got her on an anti-parasitic that seems to be doing the job." He fixed Drew with a steely glare. "Now go see her. I'm sure she'd love to see you."
Drew rose from the bench, his eyes glancing between House and Anthony. Finally he extended a hand to House. "I suppose I should thank you."
"Don't bother thanking me. I'm not the one that found it." House reluctantly shook the hand Drew offered. "Have a nice life."
After Drew left, Anthony shuddered a little. "That bitch was trying to hunt me down while his wife was dying. Unbelievable."
House chuckled and squeezed Anthony's shoulder before releasing it. "Enough about him. I believe you said something about buying me lunch."
"That I did." Anthony could smell House as the older man walked close to him, his familiar woodsy scent filling his nose.
"Good. I'm starving."
They strode out the double doors, the bright sunlight hitting their faces, Drew and rough nights and difficult cases behind them. Right now, none of it mattered as they made their way across the street. A good lunch and each other's company seemed to be all they needed right now.
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