A/N: Must I say that I don't own them? Don't you know how depressing that is? Don't make me do it!

Chapter 29

"I didn't poison Randy!" his girlfriend, Jessica, shouted at House in the hall. To their credit, the nurses barely turned to look. Patients screaming at House were commonplace, and hardly worth noticing.

"I didn't say you had," House objected.

"No, you just asked if I might know how arsenic would have gotten into his food. It would only get there if someone put it there and the only reason I would know is if I did it!" Jessica shouted some more. "Just because I'm young doesn't make me stupid."

"No, you're a person, that's what makes you stupid," House said, only half under his breath.

"Is that what's keeping you from figuring out what's wrong with Randy?" Jessica asked, the anger now dissipated and replaced by fear.

House looked away with unease. This was exactly why he avoided patients and their families at all costs. It was so much easier not to care when you didn't have to watch them cry. He shifted his weight and tapped his cane on the floor a few times. Jessica moved back toward the glass wall that now separated her from Randy. Pressing her hands against the glass, she rested her forehead on the wall. House took in the way her long brown hair was pulled into a sloppy ponytail, the tense set of her shoulders and the rigid posture of her otherwise supple body and decided she probably wasn't poisoning him.

"He's a film student," Jessica said to the glass. House limped slightly closer so he could see the patient through the glass. He was sleeping; the transfusions had helped to return some of the color to his face and the pale scruff that was now present on his cheeks helped to allay the gaunt, skeletal look he'd been sporting the previous day. "He just got a grant for his first independent documentary. It's about films based on real life events and how they get warped by Hollywood. He's basing it on Silence of the Lambs and Hannibal Lecter." Jessica laughed bitterly. "We were celebrating. He ordered fava beans. He said it fit."

"There are a lot of genetic conditions we're still testing for. It's going to take some time to narrow it down, but … fava beans?" House asked.

"Yeah. It was a quote from the movie," Jessica began to explain.

"I've seen it. Has he ever eaten fava beans before?" House asked her.

"I don't know. I don't think so. Why?" Jessica asked, finally ripping her eyes from Randy's sleeping form and turning to face House. But House was already rounding the corner.

House reached the conference room and sat at the table, flinging open the file Foreman had left behind. Buried somewhere in this pile was the information House was looking for. He began flipping through the sticky notes, crumpling the ones that weren't his answer and dropping them to the floor.

After several minutes, Foreman and Jasper approached from the hall. They'd come back to retrieve Foreman's notes and a few text books to help them narrow down their lab tests. To find House sitting at the conference table, surrounded by crumpled sticky notes strewn haphazardly across the desk and floor was eerily reminiscent of Price's descent into madness early that morning.

"And then there were two," Foreman said to Jasper. She only nodded in disbelief. They couldn't really have both gone insane on the same day, could they?

"I'm not crazy," House said without turning around or acknowledging their presence. Jasper sighed in relief while Foreman predictably rolled his eyes. They watched House read and crumple sticky notes for a minute or two before he stopped. The whole posture of his body tensed for a moment and then relaxed visibly. Foreman would have recognized the facial expression had he seen it, but it really wasn't necessary. House stood from the table and placed the sticky note on the wall. He turned to Foreman. "I thought I told you to clean that stuff up?" House said before limping from the room.


"Glucose-6-phosphate deficiency," Foreman repeated to Randy and Jessica. "It's also known as Favism. Your red blood cells are lacking in the G-6-phosphate dehydrogenase. That enzyme helps protect red blood cells from oxidation. Fava beans contain vicine, divicine, convicine and isouramil, which are all oxidants. Your red blood cells can't protect themselves from these oxidants and so they become damaged. There are some drugs and other chemicals that can cause the same reaction; obviously you've never been exposed to any of them."

"So what now?" Randy asked.

"We've already given you the necessary blood transfusions to replace the red blood cells that were destroyed. The best course of action is avoiding any of the drugs or foods that can trigger another hemolytic crisis. We'll give a listing of medications and foods to avoid in the future," Foreman said.

"And that's it?" Randy asked, glancing from Foreman to Jasper and then to Jessica in disbelief.

"That's it," Foreman said.


House approached the room where he knew Cuddy had put Price cautiously. Cuddy was already pissed; actually she was angrier than he'd seen her in quite some time. The last thing he needed now was to get caught. He wasn't concerned about Price so much as his own hide. If he actually had anything to do with the little episode, he'd probably get sued. Again.

"I wouldn't go in there if I were you," Quig warned from the nearby nurse's station. House hung his head in shame. He had really hoped Quig wouldn't be the one to get called in for this.

"That bad?" House asked.

"No. Cuddy's in there checking on him right now," Quig said. "He's fine. Well, comparatively speaking. He won't be climbing the clock tower with a rifle any time soon." House wiped his brow in a mock 'whew' gesture. Quig frowned. "As long as a certain a$$ I know stays away from him for a few days while we sort this out."

House nodded his head in understanding. There were very few people, less than a handful really, whose opinion mattered to him. Quig was one of them. He didn't want Quig to think he was a monster.

"I didn't think it would be such a big deal," House said.

"You never do," Quig answered. House sighed impatiently. He felt a lecture coming on. "You may be able to block out virtually all emotion and reject other's opinions of you out of hand. Others aren't so skilled." Quig walked away. He couldn't discuss Price's current situation any further and he had no desire to argue with House. This was the first time since they'd met that Quig felt he didn't like the man.

"House!" Cuddy hissed as she exited Price's room. "I thought I told you to stay away from here."

"I was concerned," House said.

"You were not," Cuddy growled at him. She was livid. She'd heard from Price that House had actually been tormenting him for weeks about his sexual preferences. Giving out his phone number to male staff members and writing the most juvenile remarks on the men's locker room walls; this last stunt had really been the last straw. If it didn't mean that she'd have to report Price's current condition, she would suspend him on the spot. "He's going home in a few hours and taking a week off. You will not speak to him; you will not contact him in any way. You will not mention this to anyone in the hospital, including your team. I will decide what is appropriate to tell them."

House opened his mouth to protest and he could swear he could physically see Cuddy's blood boil. She flushed red from her forehead to her pregnancy enhanced bosom and hitched in a breath to cut him down. But before she could get the words out she swayed slightly. Before House could even reach her, Cuddy had collapsed in a heap on the floor.


House sat in what had to be the most uncomfortable chair he'd ever sat in, deep in the corner shadows of Cuddy's hospital room. Wilson was in surgery; House hadn't been able to reach him yet. He hadn't wanted to call Cameron, for oh so many reasons. Instead he'd watched as the nearly frantic nurses paged Cuddy's OB and got her into a room. House was waiting for either Wilson or Dr. Huntley to arrive.

"Jimmy?" Cuddy's voice called softly from the bed. House allowed his eyes to slip closed in frustration. He had wanted to be gone when she woke up.

"He's in surgery," House said from the corner. "He'll be here soon."

"House?" Cuddy asked. She sat up in the bed and strained her eyes toward the corner where he was lurking. "What happened?"

"You fainted," House said matter-of-factly. "Skip breakfast?"

"It's my blood pressure," Cuddy said morosely as she flopped back against the bed. "It's been a little elevated lately." At this she shot him a venomous glare. "Stress is bad for high blood pressure, in case you'd forgotten."

House just hung his head. He wasn't a heartless man, despite what people might say. He didn't want to upset Cuddy. In fact, this hadn't been about Cuddy at all. However, innocent bystanders did have a tendency to get swept up in his wake. It was an unfortunate side effect of his naturally meddlesome nature that he very carefully avoided thinking about.

"I've got to get back to Price before one of the nurses goes in there," Cuddy said as she attempted to get out of bed. House rose from his spot in the corner and placed a restraining hand on her shoulder.

"Quig is with him," House said. "The whole hospital won't fall apart if you stop for one minute. Are you trying to have a miscarriage?"

Cuddy swung her eyes to House's swiftly and with malice. His expression almost passed for contrite but Cuddy was unmoved. That was probably one of the cruelest things she had ever heard from his mouth. And over the years he'd worked for her and the years before that she had heard plenty.

"House, you're going to walk out of this room. You are going to your office and pack up your things. Then you are going home. You are not going to return to work until Price is ready to return. You're suspended indefinitely," Cuddy said. Her voice remained calm and level but her tone left no doubt that she was completely serious.

"Cuddy, you can't …" House protested, but Cuddy cut him off.

"I can, and I am. House, this is too much, even for you. You intentionally harassed your employee with regard to his sexual orientation until he was driven to a breakdown. Maybe I never spelled it out for you, but that's a bad thing," Cuddy berated him. "When Price has recovered enough to return to work you can come back. After you've written a formal letter of apology to him and to Foreman and Jasper for the extra work they'll be taking on in his absence."

"What am I supposed to do if he won't come back?" House asked. He had finally done it; he had finally gone too far for even Cuddy to let it slide.

"If he won't come back to work for you we'll offer him a position somewhere else in the hospital," Cuddy said. "Go home."

House started to protest again but was interrupted this time by Dr. Huntley's arrival. House walked silently from the room, where he was met by a frantic Wilson.

"House what the hell happened?" Wilson asked. House shook his head and kept walking. He went to his office, packed up his things and limped to the elevators. He rode down to the lobby and limped through it with his eyes trained purposefully on the floor. He ignored Cameron's shouts and exited. He climbed onto his bike and sped out of the parking lot, leaving a very confused Allison Cameron jogging to a halt in a cloud of exhaust fumes.


Cameron rode the elevator upstairs to the diagnostics floor with a steadily growing unease. Whatever House had done was obviously much worse than even she had anticipated this morning. His departure from the hospital could only be described as huffy. Cameron's main concern at this point was a very important distinction. Was it voluntary?

Cameron stepped out of the elevators and saw Quig milling about at the nurse's station. It was unusual to see him anywhere in the hospital that wasn't the psychiatric ward or his office; Cameron assumed he had something to do with whatever was going on. She approached him nervously.

"Quig? What are you doing here?" Cameron asked. She wouldn't expect him to breach the doctor-patient confidentiality but she hoped he could at least clue her in.

"I'm helping Dr. Cuddy with a … situation," Quig said. "I can't really say anything else about that. Dr. Cuddy fainted; she's in there with Dr. Huntley and Dr. Wilson now." Quig indicated a room with the blinds drawn just a few paces down the hall.

"She fainted? Is she okay? What about the baby? And what did House have to do with all this?" Cameron peppered Quig with questions more rapidly than he could possibly have answered them.

"I don't know anything about Dr. Cuddy other than what I just told you and I can't tell you any of the other things I do know," Quig replied. He could sense Cameron's increasing frustration and was relieved when Dr. Wilson stepped out of Dr. Cuddy's room. Cameron leapt at him.

"Jimmy, is she okay? The baby?" Cameron asked.

"She's okay, for now. Her blood pressure has been high and it shot up suddenly and she fainted. The baby is fine," Wilson said. He rubbed the back of his neck vigorously with his right hand while gesturing wildly with his left.

"Are you okay?" Cameron asked. Wilson stopped and let his arms drop. He looked away from Cameron and then back, revealing tears forming in his eyes. Cameron enveloped him in a warm hug which Wilson gratefully returned.

"She wants to see you," Wilson said in her ear. Cameron nodded. She gave Wilson one final squeeze and released him. They walked into Cuddy's room together as Dr. Huntley was reviewing her chart.

"Lisa, I'm going to recommend a week's bed rest," Dr. Huntley said. He held up a hand to stop Cuddy's protest before she could voice it. Dr. Huntley was a tiny man, barely Cameron's height and thin as a rail. Despite his size, his presence commanded respect when it came to his patients. "No arguments. This is the second time you've had a stress related complication that I know about it. I'm sure there have been others that you've ignored out of sheer obstinance. You will go home and rest for no less than a week. Doctor's orders."

Dr. Huntley nodded to Wilson on his way out and Cuddy sighed heavily. This was all of her worst fears come true at once. She was losing control of the hospital and the baby's health and her own were in jeopardy. It couldn't possibly get worse.