Author's Note: Well, I had thought that this would be our last chapter, but there were too many dangling plot threads to wrap up neatly in one more chapter (and Bob wouldn't stand for not getting to visit with all of you again) so this is NOT our final chapter. Many thanks to my beta, Brighid45, for helping me get this one sorted out - it was rough going for a while there! If you aren't reading Brighid's Treatment series, you are missing out. The current story, The Language of Pain, is wrapping up now and there's at least one more on the way. Check them out!

The MRI machine was double-booked. House took a seat in the waiting area, watching as Foreman and Thirteen argued with the oncologist who was trying to steal House's slot. Something had changed between Foreteen since he'd last seen them and he spent a few minutes speculating about it. Thirteen had been standing just a little too close to Chase in the elevator to be casual, so he didn't think the change meant she and Eric were together again.

"Dr. House?" His reverie was disrupted by an approaching technician. "Dr. Cuddy just called. She'd like to see you in her office."

"Did you tell her I was here for a test?" House asked, getting to his feet.

"She adjusted the schedule," the technician said, his face flushing. "Your new appointment is at 1pm."

"Right." House glanced over at his team. "You might want to let them know." He made his way out of the waiting area, wondering how long it would take the technician to break in on the argument.

Cuddy was at her desk when he arrived. He knocked briefly before entering her office. She looked up as he stepped inside; he was struck by the dark shadows under her eyes. As he got closer he could see that they were red-rimmed and puffy as well.

"House," she said wearily.

"You said you wanted to see me," he replied, dropping into a chair in front of her desk.

"Yes." Cuddy sighed and pushed aside a stack of paperwork. "We need to discuss what happened yesterday."

"A lot of things happened yesterday."

"You admitted to taking Vicodin."

"Ah. That one."

She frowned. "I can't just ignore it, House."

"Right." He stared at her and Cuddy's face flushed.

"House…" She sighed and her shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry."

He started and stared at her. He couldn't have heard her correctly. "What?"

"Sarah… Sarah was right," Cuddy said. When he stayed silent, she shifted nervously in her chair. "She said we all enabled your addiction."

"She did?" House fidgeted in his chair, unsure how to respond to Cuddy's apology.

"She was… pretty scathing."

"If you're looking for an apology…"

"No," Cuddy said quickly, shaking her head. "No, like I said, she was right." She looked down at her hands and an awkward silence fell. After a moment, House cleared his throat.

"So…" he prompted. Cuddy looked up and shifted in her chair, sitting up a little straighter. It was a relief to see her snap back into administrator mode. She briskly outlined her plan for his continued employment. As he'd expected, he'd be randomly screened for drug use, and she wanted to know that he was continuing to see Dr. Nolan. She smiled in relief when he readily agreed.

"Is that all?" he asked and she nodded. He got to his feet and made his way to the door.

"House," Cuddy called as he reached it. He turned to see her stepping around her desk. She stopped a few feet from him, her earlier hesitation returning. "I…I'm glad you found Sarah."

"Me too," he replied. He waited a half-second and when Cuddy didn't say anything else, he left.

House made his way to Diagnostics, where he found his team gathered around the conference table. They looked up as he entered, their discussion coming to a halt.

"What?" he asked.

"We have an idea," Thirteen said hesitantly, "and we want to know what you think." She jerked her head toward the whiteboard and House scanned it, his gaze coming to a stop at one set of letters: "CRPS." He could feel himself start to glare.
"Complex regional pain syndrome," Chase said nervously. "Type I, RSD, seems like the best fit."

"It's a crap diagnosis." House shifted his glare from the board to the members of his team.

"It's just an idea," Taub said. "We'll know more after we do the tests today…"

House cut him off. "There's no definitive test for CRPS."

"It's just one idea," Foreman said, his tone conciliatory. "If CRPS seems most likely after today, then there are other tests that can be run which will give us a clearer picture of what's going on. Thermography, sweat testing, x-rays…"

"None of which will prove it's CRPS."

"We could start treatment and see if you respond," Chase said. "We could start you on meds, get you in to a physical therapist. If it helps…"

"It's a waste of time."

"House…" Thirteen let her voice trail off, shifting her gaze to the door. House looked over to see Sarah entering, carrying Maggie. The dog's tail began to wag and when Sarah sat her down, she ran straight to him. He reached down to scratch behind her ears automatically.

"I'm sorry," Sarah said, looking around the room. "I didn't mean to interrupt. I was just taking Maggie out and thought I'd stop by."

"It's ok," Foreman said, getting to his feet. "I think we need a break anyway."

"We can take Maggie out," Chase added. "A walk will do us all good." He exchanged glances with the others and they rose together. Foreman collected the leash from Sarah while Thirteen retrieved Maggie. House watched as the fellows gathered their coats and left.

"How's it going?" Sarah asked quietly. He snapped his gaze away from his retreating team to stare at her.

"This is stupid," he said tersely, getting to his feet. He stalked past her into his office. She followed him, stopping just inside the door to watch as he paced the confined space. She said nothing and he felt his irritation growing.

"They've got a crap theory," he growled.

"Why is it crap?" Sarah asked.

"There's no definitive test," he snapped, glaring at her.

"So, they can't prove it."

"Duh," he sneered, and Sarah flinched. He looked away, waiting for her to storm out. After a moment she spoke, her voice calm and even, and he stared at her in surprise.

"So, if they can't prove the diagnosis, what are they testing for today?"

"They're trying to eliminate other theories."

"Is there any reason not to go through with these tests?"

"No," he admitted.

"If the tests do eliminate the other theories, then what?"

"They want to start treatment for the crap diagnosis."

"Is that…dangerous?"

"No."

"Would it make things worse?"

"No." He sighed in exasperation, biting back more sarcasm. "It'd just be a waste of time."

"If it didn't work," Sarah said with a nod. "But what if they're right?"

"It's a crap diagnosis." He looked away from her again.

"Just because there's no definitive test, there's no illness?" she pressed.

"Hmph," he grunted, staring down at his feet. "I didn't say that." He kept staring at his feet and Sarah sighed.

"I can only imagine how much pain you're in, and I'm sure that my imagination is a pale imitation of what you're actually feeling," she said quietly. He looked at her sharply and she went on, meeting his gaze steadily. "I could stand here and tell you that you should do this, but I'm not the one who has to live with the pain. Only you can decide if it's worth trying." He stared at her, saying nothing, and she continued to hold his gaze. After a moment he looked away, feeling ashamed of the harsh way he'd spoken to her. Movement in the conference room caught his eye and he looked up to see his team returning.

"Minions are back," Sarah said quietly. "I'm going to get both Maggie and me out of your way. I'll be up in the room." She didn't wait for him to reply before going into the conference room. He watched as she shook her head at Chase and collected the little dog. The younger man shot a puzzled look at him. With a growl, House stalked out of his office. He could feel the team staring as he went past the office.

The team had gone together to escort House to his MRI appointment. Thirteen had breathed a sigh of relief to find him awake, dressed, and fairly cooperative. He'd insisted that he could change into a gown once they reached radiology, and no one had pushed the issue. She'd been aware of him watching her in the elevator and had taken a half-step away from Chase. When she dared to glance over at House, he'd been staring straight ahead. The half-smirk on his face, however, told her that he'd noticed. She stopped herself from shaking her head; it would only amuse him more.

They arrived in radiology's waiting area in time to see a technician wheeling another patient into the MRI chamber. A doctor she recognized from oncology was making his way toward the control room.

"Hey," Thirteen protested. "What's going on? This is our slot."

"Not anymore," the doctor replied, turning to look at her.

"We scheduled this yesterday, Liu," Foreman said. "You can't just…"

"You think House is the only one who gets to play fast and loose with the scheduling around here?" scoffed Dr. Liu.

"House didn't play with the schedule," Foreman insisted. "We set this up yesterday. If you had an emergency you could have contacted us…" The argument continued for several minutes, until a technician intervened.

"Dr. Cuddy called," he said, sounding resigned. "Dr. House has gone to see her, and his appointment has been moved to 1pm." The technician sidled away and Dr. Liu gave them a triumphant smile before turning to continue on his way to the control booth. Thirteen gave an exasperated sigh.

"Now what?"

"Let's go back to the conference room," Foreman said. "Once House is done with Cuddy, we can move on with the other tests."

"Assuming we aren't in Liu's way there," muttered Chase.

The team was silent on the way to the conference room. Once inside, Taub went straight to the coffee pot while the others moved to take seats around the table. Foreman took the spot at the end closest to the door.

"House is never going to go for CRPS," Chase said, nodding toward the board. "We might as well erase that."

"It's a good fit," Thirteen protested.

"Doesn't matter," Taub replied, dropping into the seat beside her. "House will call it a crap diagnosis."

Foreman shook his head. "It isn't a crap diagnosis. It fits. He'll see that."

"He'll get one look at it on the board and blow up," Taub replied, taking a slurp of coffee. "We should erase it."

"And if all the tests eliminate the other possibilities, then what?" Thirteen asked.

"Then we get Sarah in here before we suggest that diagnosis," Chase answered.

"We can't run to Sarah every time we have a disagreement with House," Thirteen said.

"We're not running to her. We're asking for her help," Chase replied.

"We can't expect her to do our jobs for us," Foreman said. "We're the ones who need to convince House to give this a chance."

"We should've sicced Sarah on Liu," Taub muttered.

"He'd never know what hit him," Chase said, snickering.

"Guys, be serious," Foreman chided. Thirteen could feel her own lips twitching, until she spotted House in the hallway.

"He's here," she warned, and everyone fell silent. House stepped into the room, coming to a stop just inside the door to survey the group. Thirteen forced herself not to look away.

"What?" he demanded.

"We have an idea and we want to know what you think," Thirteen said. She tilted her head at the whiteboard, watching as House read the writing. She knew when he'd found CRPS because his brows drew together in a scowl.

"Complex regional pain syndrome," Chase put in anxiously. "Type I, RSD, seems like the best fit."

"It's a crap diagnosis," House spat, shifting his glare from the board to the team.

Taub fidgeted in his chair but didn't flinch away from House's glower. "It's just an idea. We'll know more after we do the tests today…"

"There's no definitive test for CRPS," House snapped.

"It's just one idea," Foreman said. "If CRPS seems most likely after today, then there are other tests that can be run which will give us a clearer picture of what's going on. Thermography, sweat testing, x-rays…"

"None of which will prove it's CRPS," House retorted, unappeased by Foreman's soothing tone.

Chase took a deep breath and entered the fray. "We could start treatment and see if you respond. We could start you on meds, get you in to a physical therapist. If it helps…"

"It's a waste of time."

"House…" Thirteen let her voice trail off as Sarah approached the conference room door. She was carrying Maggie and smiling, but her happy expression faded as she stepped inside and took in the tense room. Maggie was oblivious, her tail wagging in obvious delight at the sight of House. When Sarah put the dog down, she ran straight to him and Thirteen bit back a smile when he reached down to scratch behind her ears. She quickly shifted her gaze back to Sarah, who was speaking.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. I was just taking Maggie out and thought I'd stop by."

"It's ok. I think we need a break anyway," Foreman said, standing up.

"We can take Maggie out. A walk will do us all good," Chase suggested. He looked to Taub and Thirteen and they all got to their feet. She went to get Maggie while the others waited by the door. They grabbed up their coats as she approached, Chase snatching hers as well, and they made their escape together.

The team was silent as they waited for the elevator. Thirteen stole a glance over her shoulder, peering down the hall toward Diagnostics. What was House telling Sarah, and how was she reacting? She was grateful when the car arrived and they could step inside.

"$50 says that House will agree to the testing when we get back up there." Chase spoke as soon as the elevator doors shut. Thirteen looked over to see him giving a challenging look to Taub and Foreman.

"I'll take that bet," Taub retorted, smirking. "Not even she's going to be able to get House to accept a crap diagnosis."

"You want in on this?" Chase asked Foreman.

"No. I'm not going to bet on House's health."

"Suit yourself," Chase replied with a shrug.

"We've left Sarah in a difficult position," Thirteen said, guilt surging through her.

"Go back if you want," Taub told her. "It won't take 4 of us to walk one little dog."

"Sarah can handle House," Chase said, putting a hand on her shoulder. "She'll be fine." Thirteen sighed and nodded, even as a voice in her head chided her for being a coward.

Greg left shortly before 8 for his first test. Sarah spent a few minutes tidying their room, consolidating their laundry into one bag and counting how many sets of clean clothing they had left. Maggie lay at the end of one of the beds, watching. Sarah stuffed the last of the laundry into the bag and looked over at the dog.

"What do we do now, Mags? I don't want to read my book – I'm saving that to share with Greg." Maggie responded by lifting her head and cocking it to one side as she listened. Sarah laughed at the sight. "You're right. We should go see Bob and Meryl."

When they reached the gerontology ward, Bob and Meryl were in the lounge. Bob had a group of men gathered around a table. He was shuffling cards but he stopped when he saw Sarah. She heard one of the men laughing at him for his "little girlfriend" and smiled. He got to his feet, frowning a little as he studied her face. Something about the way he looked at her reminded her of Greg and she could feel her smile widening.

"Your fella needs a shave," he said at last, leaning in to kiss Sarah on the cheek before reaching out a gnarled hand to rub Maggie's head.

"It's fine," Sarah answered, feeling herself blush.

"Uh-huh."

"Let it go, Bob."

"It's your face," the old man replied with a shrug.

"Yes, it is," Sarah said firmly. A smiled flashed across Bob's face for a moment and then he grunted and nodded.

"C'mon. If we don't get Queen Maggie over to Meryl soon, one of 'em is gonna burst." Sarah laughed and let him steer her toward the older woman.

Maggie's tail was wagging furiously and she was straining to reach Meryl, who was staring fixedly at the little dog. Meryl's face lit up in a smile when Sarah place Maggie in her lap. She put her arms around the dog, pulling her into a hug. Once she was released, Maggie settled into the woman's lap with a sigh. Sarah took a seat on the couch beside Bob.

It only took a few minutes for several older women to gather around them. They'd all seen Sarah and Greg kissing the day before, and Sarah felt herself blushing as they began to pepper her with question after question.

"Yes, he's a doctor… No, I'm not a nurse… Yes, he is a little older than me… No, we're not getting married… Yes, he's a good kisser…"

"Enough!" Bob growled, cutting off the questions. "Don't you have soap operas to watch or somethin'?"

"This is better than any tv show," giggled one woman.

"He has such dreamy eyes," breathed another.

"Stop it," Bob commanded.

"Are you jealous, Bob?" teased one of the women. A fit of giggles seized the group and Sarah bit back a smile.

"Don't you start," Bob warned her and that was enough. She burst into laughter and the other women followed suit. Maggie started to bark, not wanting to be left out of making noise, and a stern looking nurse strode over to them.

The nurse wanted Sarah to remove Maggie, which set off a chorus of protests from the older women. Bob sat stoically through the complaining until Meryl's lower lip began to tremble. Then he sprang to his feet, steering the nurse away from the group. Sarah watched him speaking quietly to her. Within a minute the woman was giggling. Sarah smiled, wondering just what he was saying to produce such a reaction. At last the nurse left, smiling and blushing, and Bob returned, dropping back into his seat on the couch with a grunt.

"If you all start cackling she's gonna get wise," he hissed, glaring around at the group. Sarah bit back a smile when one of the women winked at her. She braced herself for the questioning to resume, but to her delight the women started teasing Bob instead. After the fifth comment about "his nurse," Bob got to his feet with a growl.

"I'm playin' cards," he muttered, stalking off to the table. He'd only gone a few steps when the men started up with a chorus of taunts. Bob stopped, shooting a mock-glare at Sarah, and headed for the table under the window that he'd shared with Greg the day before. Sarah got up and moved to the table, retrieving Bob's double-deck of cards before joining him.

"You," he informed her as she sat down, "are nothin' but trouble. Why don't you go make some for your own fella and let me be?"

"Shut up and deal," Sarah replied, tossing the cards onto the table in front of him. With a grunt, he lifted them and slipped off the rubber-band.

An hour later, Bob was complaining loudly that she either needed to pay up or strip down. When Meryl's head dipped for the third time, Sarah got to her feet.

"I think I'd better go," she said. "Meryl's getting tired."

"Right. Like I haven't heard that excuse before." He grinned and stood as well. Once again she was reminded of Greg. He walked her over to Meryl's chair, reaching down to lift Maggie. "Your fella owes me a rematch. The two of you should stop by this evening, if you manage to come up for air."

"I'll see what we can do," she answered, fighting back laughter.

In the elevator she started to reach for the sixth floor button but stopped. On impulse, she pressed the one for the fourth floor instead. She would stop by Diagnostics and see how the tests were going.

When she reached the conference room, she could see that the fellows were gathered around the table with Greg. Maggie began to squirm in her arms and Sarah set her down just inside the door. Remy had been speaking but she let her voice trail off. Sarah looked around the room, taking in the unhappy faces of the team and the scowl that didn't fade from Greg's face even as he reached out to rub Maggie's head. The tension in the room was palpable.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt," Sarah said, feeling butterflies start up in her stomach. "I was just taking Maggie out and thought I'd stop by."

Foreman got to his feet. "It's ok. I think we need a break anyway."

"We can take Maggie out," Chase put in. "A walk will do us all good." He looked to his colleagues and they got to their feet. Foreman collected the leash from her while Remy retrieved Maggie. Greg stared at the team as they left before aiming his glare at her.

"How's it going?" she asked quietly.

"This is stupid." He got to his feet, stalking past her into his office. Sarah went after him, feeling her heart start to pound. She stopped just inside the door, watching as he paced. After a moment he began to speak.

"They've got a crap theory."

"Why is it crap?" she asked hesitantly.

He stopped pacing long enough to scowl at her. "There's no definitive test."

"So, they can't prove it."

"Duh." Sarah flinched at scorn in his voice and he looked away. She blinked back tears and took several deep breaths. When she felt steadier, she spoke again.

"So, if they can't prove the diagnosis, what are they testing for today?" Greg looked up at her, seeming surprised that she was still there.

"They're trying to eliminate other theories," he said tersely.

"Is there any reason not to go through with these tests?"

"No," he admitted.

"If the tests do eliminate the other theories, then what?"

"They want to start treatment for the crap diagnosis."

Sarah hesitated. "Is that…dangerous?"

"No."

"Would it make things worse?"

Greg shook his head. "No. It'd just be a waste of time."

"If it didn't work." She took a deep breath, hoping what she was about to say wouldn't make him angrier. "But what if they're right?"

"It's a crap diagnosis." He looked away from her gaze to study his feet. She took another deep breath. In for a penny… she thought.

"Just because there's no definitive test, there's no illness?"

"Hmph. I didn't say that." He didn't lift his head and Sarah sighed. Ok. Here's the pound.

"I can only imagine how much pain you're in, and I'm sure that my imagination is a pale imitation of what you're actually feeling," she said and Greg lifted his head to stare at her. She forced herself to hold his gaze. "I could stand here and tell you that you should do this, but I'm not the one who has to live with the pain. Only you can decide if it's worth trying." She waited, her heart thumping. Greg looked away from her. After a moment his expression changed and she turned to see his team returning to the conference room. She sighed and turned to look at him.

"Minions are back. I'm going to get both Maggie and me out of your way. I'll be up in the room," she said, sounding far calmer than she felt. She turned on her heel and left. Chase looked up as she entered, a question on his face. She shook her head at him, reaching to take Maggie from him. Movement in the hall caught her eye and she looked up to see Greg going past, moving rapidly.