Title: Mending a Broken Man
Disclaimer: Angst, slash, and violence.
Author Note: I want to thank everyone that reviews my stories. :) You guys are proof that someone is willing to read this stuff that I write. Thank you!
Chapter Twenty-Six: Only He Knows
House rode the elevator by himself as his team members had made it there before him and gone on ahead. He didn't really care. It gave him some peace and quiet, a chance to think about where his life was headed. So many things had changed in just a matter of weeks. Chase was healthy and he was openly dating Cameron. Neither one of them saw any reason to keep the relationship a secret. They figured it was okay since just about everyone in the hospital was aware of the fact that House was Wilson. And what exactly did that mean? He'd almost walked out of his job because he loved Wilson. When had he last loved someone that much? It troubled him to think that he'd given his heart completely to another person. Last time he did something so foolish things had turned out bad.
The elevator binged and the doors whooshed open. He stepped out, heading down the hallway toward his office. By now he expected his subordinates to be in the strategy room trying to diagnose their new patient. There was one little nagging voice in the back of his mind. It kept asking the same question over and over again; who had decided that this person was going to be his case? That job was usually left to Cuddy but she'd been outside with them, not indoors looking over files. He slowed his walk, his brows furrowing as he frowned. None of this made sense. What the hell was going on? He came to a complete stop. Was this some sort of twisted dream? Since when did they do picnics? Everything about the day was wrong.
He didn't like it in the least. He thought about the feeling he'd had not too long ago; that something horrible was hovering on the horizon. He wasn't one to be afraid of things he didn't understand or couldn't figure out. If he had been, he wouldn't have his job. He stood there, trying to sort out the thoughts in his head as they seemed to be doing laps at an outrageous speed.
"Earth to House," Foreman said, waving a manila folder in front of the doctor's face.
House forced himself to concentrate; a problem he'd never had before. "Case?"
"Surprisingly enough this guy is brave enough to admit that he went to school with you," Foreman started. "That's why he came to see you. He heard about your reputation."
"A walk-in," House stated, starting down the hallway again. "I hate walk-ins. So give me the scoop. What are his symptoms?"
"Aren't you even curious about who it is?" asked Foreman, a questioning look on his face.
House looked back over his shoulder at Foreman who was trailing after him. "Should I care?"
"This person comes out of your past, seeking help from you and you don't even care who they are?" Foreman sounded miffed, like he was hearing something new from his boss.
"If I cared about all the people around me there'd be nobody left to care about me."
Foreman rolled his eyes but House didn't see it. "All right, fine. He's complaining about muscle soreness, having a headache, lower back pain, and-"
"Sounds like normal stuff," House remarked, walking into his office. He sat in the chair behind his desk and flipped on his computer. He thought about playing some music but decided it would be too rude, even for him; if there was such a thing for him.
"What are you doing?" Foreman inquired.
"I have to download the last episode of The OC. I missed it because Wilson wanted-"
Foreman held up the folder, his eyes closed, shaking his head. "Don't finish that sentence. I don't need to know what you and Wilson do behind closed doors. None of my business."
House smirked. He couldn't pass up the chance to pick-on the doctor. "Why? Did you think I was going to say Wilson wanted sex? He wanted to watch the Food Network. I don't understand how people can watch someone cook. Or play golf for that matter."
"House, the patient?" Foreman said, trying to steer the conversation back to the proper topic.
"Run the usual tests and get back to me." He shoed Foreman away with his hand, his eyes on the monitor as he found the website he wanted. He heard the door close as Foreman left, leaving him to the fog of thoughts rolling around in his mind. Was he doing the right thing by giving his heart to Wilson? Would things ever be right between him and Cuddy, and did he really care? And why would someone come back from his past just to have him as a doctor? He was a royal pain in the ass, and he liked it that way. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the bottle of Vicodin and popped one of the little pills into his mouth. His leg was bothering him more than usual and he figured it had something to do with the weather. But he couldn't blame the weather for his leg because he was already using it as an excuse for his being tired.
Not finding what he wanted on the net, having lied to Foreman, he switched off his monitor, propped his legs up on the desk, leaning back in his chair, and closed his eyes. He wanted to catch a few more Z's before anyone really needed him. Not that he planned on anyone needing him. He wasn't much help to Wilson and the others knew how to do their jobs; thought sometimes they gave it too much thought. No, he'd be fine to relax for a while. He was about to drift off when he felt something run down his face. He wiped his nose with the back of his hand. And when he looked there was a streak of red across the skin. Blood.