Chapter 27
I don't know if anyone is still reading this story, but it's nearing the end now. Please let me know if you think I'm on the right track. It's been pretty quiet in the reviews and I'm starting to doubt myself.
I hope you enjoy. This chapter is a little dramatic.
"Where the hell is security?" Cuddy roared, dropping all pretence at being civil. Again, her staff worked on breaking up the large group blocking their path into the room. Some were pulled away while others stood their ground. A small tussle broke out at the back of the group.
Hamilton, sensing that Cuddy would continue to block his photos, moved away from the head of the bed. She risked a quick look at House, he looked slightly green and was breathing heavily, his eyes closed. A brief scan of the monitors reassured her he was agitated but stable. The politician spoke, interrupting her thoughts. "Shall we get down to the reason we're all here?" Again, a rehearsed smile slide into place over his features. "Yesterday, two members of your staff broke into my house, removed some of my possession and accosted me. Do you have an explanation for this?" Cameras again began clicking, recording Cuddy's reactions.
Keeping her face just as composed as Hamilton's she spoke. "As I am sure they told you, your wife is deteriorating, and my staff felt it necessary to conduct environmental testing in your house to try to determine the cause of your wife's illness. It's standard procedure."
"Come now Dr Cuddy, do you really expect anyone here to believe that? Your staff broke into my home while I was not there and removed my possessions without first consulting me. Your doctor… Chase is it..? Was rude and aggressive. He violated my trust; broke into the home I share with my wife. This is not the first time I have had issues with him. I need you to do something about it. I want him fired." Here he turned again to the reporters, who hung on his every word. "My wife means the world to me, and if the staff at this hospital had asked me, I would have taken them straight to my home to conduct their search."
"No, you wouldn't." A voice sounded from behind Cuddy. She whirled around to see House studying the politician. His eyes beginning to display a familiar gleam.
Hamilton hesitated. "I beg your pardon. Are you questioning my integrity?"
"You wouldn't have let my team into your home because you don't love your wife. You've been having an affair." All eyes flew to Hamilton. "You're not wearing your wedding ring."
"Of course I'm not having an affair. I am completely devoted to my wife. And for your information I am not wearing my ring because I've been scrubbing in and out of my wife's room 10 times a day. I couldn't bare it if I lost my ring, so I put it in my pocket." The younger man retorted; his face clouded in outrage.
"Actually, you haven't." Cuddy interrupted. "You go in twice a day, if that. The nurses talk, you know." Hamilton blanched, furious at having been caught in a lie.
Again, House spoke and every eye in the room focused on him. "You've not worn your ring for quite some time. There's only the faintest tan line where your ring should be." House took advantage of the pause and ploughed on in his revelation. "You've clearly been abroad recently, and you went without your ring. The only reason you would do that would be to have an affair."
"I have not, nor will I ever, cheat on my wife." Colour began to rise in the politician's face. "Who the hell do you think you are?" His formerly composed mask began to crack.
"If you've been wearing your ring, where is it?" House demanded, thoughtfully. "Turn out your pockets." He commanded. Cuddy felt a thrill rush through her, he was actually beginning to sound like his old self. Meanwhile, Hamilton hesitated.
"I don't have to justify myself to you. I have nothing to be ashamed of and nothing to hide."
"If you have nothing to hide you should do it. If you don't, you'll have lost the trust of your audience. It's best to get it over with now." All eyes were focused on the politician, expectant. At length he began to comply. Phone, wallet, and keys clanged onto the bed table, but for once House didn't flinch at the sound. That familiar light was now blazing in his eyes. He knew something no one else did. "Carry on!" He uttered. "I don't see your ring yet."
"I I I don't think it's here." He stammered, clearly ruffled by the unexpected attack on his well cultivated reputation. Seeing that his excuse had no effect on the man in the bed, or his audience he huffed, then reached into other pockets, making a show of patting himself down. Then out came a fountain pen, an envelope, torn open at the top, and lastly a scuffed, white inhaler with a clear plastic cover. They joined the meagre array of objects on the tray. He then showed the room there was nothing else by patting his pockets and flapping his suit jacket. "I must have left it at home." He offered.
The strange assemblage of people looked expectantly at House, waiting for further revelations. House, however, didn't respond, his eyes fixed on Hamilton's possessions scattered across the table.
"…Argentina." He said softly to himself. "That's how the source of infection was introduced to the clean room." He muttered, almost too quiet for the straining room to hear. Then slowly raised his eyes to the man standing over him. "Why would you need to buy your inhalers in Argentina?" His voice was steady, the question loaded with implied significance. There was a shocked pause from the crowd assembled in the small room. "That model was recalled in 2001 in the US due to a major clogging issue, since this is obviously not that old you must have got it from further afield. They were also in wide circulation throughout South America until the early 2000s. Now, you can only get them in Mexico, Bolivia and Argentina. Since you can't import even prescription meds from the other two countries, you must have got it in Argentina. Why would you need to do that?"
"I… I was on vacation and ran out of my regular inhaler."
Cuddy didn't really know where House was going with this, but something began to niggle at her, Hamilton was lying. "No one who carries an inhaler on their person would neglect to bring a spare on vacation." She said slowly.
"What is this?" Hamilton rounded on Cuddy again. "Why am I being drilled about my inhaler when your people broke the law. When my wife could be dying?"
"Take a puff." When Hamilton only stared at House, he continued. "Take your meds… If your asthma's bad enough for you to carry your inhaler around all of the time you probably need a puff right about now. Go on, it won't hurt you." House narrowed his eyes at the other man, who looked panicked for a moment.
Again, the politician pulled his mask into place. "I don't need to. Can we bring this back to the reason we're all here? There's something very wrong with the staff at this hospital."
"Why don't you need to use your inhaler?" House persisted. Again, Hamilton was about to brush him off when he continued. "If your asthma is bad enough you need to carry an inhaler… You must need to use it every day… You're under stress, there's a lot of lights, and the… excitement should have at least caused some wheezing… It looks cold outside." He turned to the sliver of window he could see through the edges of the blinds. A dusting of snow clung to the trees beyond the pane. "Did he wheeze when he came… into the hospital?" He shot at the assemblage of reporters and camera men. They looked at each other in confusion, shocked that they were drawn into this surprising turn of events. Some shook their heads dumbly, while others turned to look at the politician, who blanched.
More commotion sounded in the hallway. Distracted by the sudden noise, heads began to turn to the source of the racket. Chase and Wilson were pushing their way through the crowd, making their way into the room. Wilson fought his way to House's side while Chase hovered by Cuddy, glaring at Hamilton. Foreman and Cameron were engaged in an argument with a trio of reporters trying to block their path. One of the men pushed Foreman, who pushed him back. A scuffled ensued which Cameron futilely tried to break up. Cuddy saw her call to a nurse who picked up the phone again.
"What the hell is going on here? What is all this?" Wilson shot at Cuddy, while checking out House. Cuddy took the opportunity to look over him too, she didn't like what she saw. His colour had paled further, and he was sweating now. His heart rate was elevated, his sats were dropping, his chest heaving with each breath. "He's recovering from brain surgery. He could stroke out or herniate." Wilson shouted. "Get these people out of here." He grabbed an o2 mask from the wall and clamped it over his friend's face. "House, look at me. You have to calm down."
House batted weakly at the mask, when he couldn't fight off Wilson he looked at Chase. "What did… you find at his house?" He questioned, gasping, despite the mask. His voice muffled.
"SSRIs, anti-anxiety meds." Chase called from his spot near the politician. "We also found some pills in an unmarked bottle. They were locked in his desk." As he said the last line, he thrust his chin at Hamilton his face disgusted.
"What did they look like?"
"Small, white and oval. With a line down the middle."
The man in the beds eyes clouded over as he ran through his mental inventory of pills matching the description. The group could see his eyes shuttling from left to right as he quickly discounted meds after meds until he came to his conclusion. "It's nothing. Doxycycline. He recently took… a trip to Argentina, he's still on the anti-malaria meds. Must've ordered them… from the internet. Was there anything else in that drawer?"
"Nothing." He shook his head, puzzled.
"There was something else." House stated, his eyes now fixed on Hamilton who held himself ramrod straight. His eyes darted to the inhaler on the tray. "Other meds?"
"Hang on. Just some inhalers. They were old though."
House looked at Hamilton, he was obviously once again working through the next mystery. "Your wife is in a clean room, isn't she? For the burns?" The crowd looked at him again, bewildered. "You said you have to scrub into her room… She'd have to be covered in burns if she's in a clean room. You wouldn't be able to carry anything in with you… in case you pass on a pathogen which could cause infection... In a person with no skin that could be fatal… But no one would refuse you your inhaler. Cos you need it... Right?" His right hand went to the dressing behind his ear as he spoke. Cuddy saw pain flare in his eyes, but he continued.
"The only way to penetrate the dressings… would be to introduce a moisture based infectant… Maybe using something carried in a modified inhaler, purchased in Argentina?"
"Here he changed tack again, leaving the audience scrambling to catch up. "Your wife's depressed isn't she? The SSRIs in her room… Is she bitter..? Does she drink herself into a rage most nights..? She have cheating clause in her pre-nup..? She's the one with the money, isn't she?" He shot out. His head once again felt like it was splitting in two, spots began to dance in front of his eyes. "You've met someone new, younger, less prone to depression… You both went to Argentina… The only way you could keep her money and your reputation would be if she died. That would have the added bonus of gaining you the sympathy vote."
House began to feel strange. Like his body was floating away. The room shimmered in front of him. But still, he had to finish this. "Whatdidyouuse? Somethingwaterbased. Thenaerosolised." Words began tumbling from his mouth so fast they began to merge together as he forced them out. His brain working so fast he almost couldn't process the information. Sweat clung to his skin, his face felt hot.
"House! You need to calm down." Wilson told him again, his face scared. Cuddy stepped forward as the monitor displayed his BP had taken a large spike and increased heart rate. "House, can you hear me?" He didn't respond, instead he was looking puzzled at his hand, which had begun to shake gently. The room suddenly got bright, the lights dazzling and continuing to get brighter until the whole room was washed out.
She turned to the people assembled in the room. "We are done here. This is a hospital room. I need everyone to leave! Foreman, Cameron get some help in here!" She roared at the staff assembled just beyond her reach. Their way however was barred by the roiling crowd of reporters who were moving further into the room, raising cameras to document the scene, or turning to face the politician as he made a move to grab the inhaler on the table. Chase's came down and stayed his arm, then in a fit of anger he pushed his forearm into the man's throat and forced him into the glass wall. "Get security in here." Cuddy bellowed over the noise of the crowd.
A rattling from the bed behind her alerted her to what she had hoped to avoid. She spun to see House in full seizure, his head thrown back, his body jerking erratically on the bed. Wilson was desperately trying to cushion his head to protect him from further damage whilst rolling him to his side as he began to vomit. Throwing open a drawer she grabbed a syringe and set about injecting the drugs which could end the convulsions.
The group fell deathly silent for a moment as the crowd, who had moments before witnessed a dizzying display of genius, now saw the same man, sick and vulnerable, lose control of his body. Then a single sound played over the rattling on the bed. Click. Followed quickly by another and another. She whirled from her charge to see every camera pointed at the bed.
"Out! Get out, all of you! Before I have each and every one of you charged with preventing staff from treating a patient in an emergency. Go."