A/N: Sorry for the delay, guys, I am busy with schoolwork.

Duterte Is the current president of the PH, and he was let say mildly, had a personality. I think he could pull this stunt.

Typhoid fever could kill; but not this quickly. creative license was taken.

GH/JW

They were at the resort; it was nine in the morning, and they were swimming. House was sitting in the edge of the pool; while Wilson was inside. There was no guest except them. The resort was on outside of Liliw.

There was no cell signal, so they were using radio and satellite phones. It had been a week since the super typhoon; the adrenaline of the past few days was wavering. People were settling into a world where there was no help.

They had decided to stay in Liliw for the foreseeable future. They had called Cuddy and told her that they would be taking a sabbatical leave. She wasn't happy about it; instead, she was resigned.

Since the call Cuddy, they had been staying in a small resort. It was old, but there is a pool, and it was dirt cheap. House wanted to get a tricycle, Wilson said no House sulked for two days. They would probably be renting a small cottage later.

The two-way radio sounded in House's hand. "House, over!"

The man on the radio was Patrick Jensen from Doctors without Borders, who knew House from Katrina and wasn't put off by his rudeness and arrogant behavior. "Dammit! There is an outbreak of cholera, or that was what the Ministry of Health was saying. Can you come over; and take a look at them; over."

House glanced towards Wilson, who had seen him talk on his walkie-talkie. "Greg, Who is that?" House was standing up from where he was seated.

House stopped on his tracks, "Pat Jensen, We have a case?" He told Wilson, while he went to their room.

"Greg, what case?"

House explained about the cholera outbreak, and that Jensen didn't believe it was, "we have a case, come on, Jimmy, could be interesting."

They took a trike to the national high school; It was being used as a shelter for people whose homes were destroyed. They had been there two days ago; House played chess with some of the kids, winning some and losing more. House liked kids, less judgment; In fact, in Princeton, House would visit his pediatric patients more than his adult ones.

It was a bit damp outside; the landslide hadn't been cleared yet. Of

course, there had another storm.

The had arrived at the national high school an hour later, because of the traffic. House extracted his body first, taking in the situation; when you're poor, you don't get anything. Wilson followed him in the school.

As soon as they went inside, Patrick, a white man with grey hair and blue eyes, in his fifties approached them. "Hi, Greg," He shook House's hand.

"My partner, Dr. James Wilson, an oncologist, and a surgeon," House said, as an introduction;. Patrick shook Wilson's hand.

"Pat, What happened here?" House said, moving towards the entrance of the school.

Four hundred people are staying here, and a kid had defecated three times yesterday. After maybe three hours later, ten other people had voided five times." Patrick said while they walk from the entrance.

"This will be a long-ass day," House muttered, looking at the school; guitar bag on his left hand; cane on his right.

As soon as they came inside, House and Wilson saw the devastation. These are the people; who have nowhere to go. They were people on the floor with mats and cots.

Jensen led inside a white tent; the tent was characteristic of all DWB tent. "Jensen?" House asked. "Where is the kid?"

"He is in the iso room," Jensen said, guiding them to the isolation room.

House examined the boy, what he saw dismayed him. The boy Derick was three, he was feverish. "Dr. Jensen, do we have a monitor?" House asked.

"It's broken, tomorrow will have a new one being delivered from Manila."

"Okay."

"What meds is he on?" House asked, observing the boy.

Jensen shrugged. "The usual, IV Furazolidone."

House was dubious, "How long was he on it? Did you test the water?"

Jensen looked at House with dismay. "No, on both fronts." He shook his head. "The president had a hold on medications, even from us."

"What?"

Jensen snorted. "Have you watch any news lately?" When they both shook his head. "The palace is sticking to its story." Jensen handed him a newspaper.

House and Wilson read the headline. 'Despite experts pointing out, Duterte wanted to ignore them.' They were both shocked. "Idiot," House said. "I can contact Edward Voglar for you. my dad had connections in the arm forces, we could get medications here." House went to the little boy.

Wilson observed at House; he was glancing back at the boy, observing. The boy was awake; House was playing pick-a-boo with his. The boy was laughing and giggling. Wilson was delighted that his Greg was happy.

Wilson loved his partner like this; nobody knew House like this. If they only knew. However, he knew why House was acting obnoxious, it's better they think you're an asshole than to be pitied.

House looked at Wilson. He knew not to touch; while they were in public. At the moment. House glanced towards him, and their eyes met, it was a promise of things to come. He smiled.

"Is your stomach hurting, Derick?" House asked speaking in Tagalog so that the patient can understand. The boy nodded. House palpated the boy's abdomen. "Jensen?" House shouted. "You realized this isn't cholera?" House said, triumph in his voice.

"Yes, Greg, I know."

"Dr. Jensen, there were another four people." A nurse popped in.

Patrick put his right hand on his face, "Dammit." He said, looking at House, "God, this is worse, we have no meds for Typhoid, Greg."

House looked at Jensen from examining a woman. "I can call my father and bypass the government." He needed to play nice with his marine general father, who he knew, was very disappointed in him for marrying a man, "Also I could call Edward Vogler."

"Thank you, Greg."

House removed his gloves, and pick up Patrick's satellite phone on the table. He dialed his father's number. John. "Gregory?" He said, his voice a mixture of relief and that familiar sadness House had heard ever since, he told them he and Wilson were dating.

"Yes, Listen, Dad, I really need a favor."

"Could you first tell me; how are you two doing?" John House asked worriedly. "Your mother and Oma were worried, Greg."

"We're fine, Dad." He could hear his father's sigh of relief. "Now, the favor."

"What is it, Rory?"

House frowned with the utterance of his childhood nickname. "I would like you to call whoever is that was handling the US operations here; tell them to bring meds in Liliw Laguna for Typhoid."

"Why?"

"Duterte is denying DWB meds and all; he wanted a blanket statement about Cholera being the culprit. We need meds for Typhoid, Dad, people are dying." House said, and he was begging. "I am paying for it, for meds and shipping."His latest textbook, The Science of Diagnostic Deduction was doing really well, the money would just go to taxes anyway.

"Okay, I'll make some calls." His father sounded resign. "Stay safe, son; my regards to Jimmy."

"Is that John?" Wilson said with a grin.

"Oh shut it, Jimmy," House said, resuming his checking of the woman. "Yes, I called my father!"

"What?" Wilson asked jokingly.

"You heard me, James. I don't need to say it over." House said bitterly.

"Alright," He doesn't understand sarcasm; Wilson thought, "Sorry, House." He was an idiot. "Just joking."

House nodded, resuming with his duties. House looked to the kid, Derick was having trouble breathing. He went to the kid. Derick's lips were blue, cyanosis, his medical mind supplied. "Need help here!" He bellowed, pressing his lips into the child's mouth, trying to breathe for him.

Jensen came over after fifteen minutes of House pressing his lips, trying to breathe for the boy. "Dr. House, time of death."

House looked at Jensen angrily but compiled. He looked at the kid and to his watch. "5:43 PM. He said solemnly; run outside. "Dammit," he knew to expect the worse, as a doctor, he knew to expect this. However, it was still hard; point being, he hated losing a child patient.

He left the tent with his guitar on hand; he sat on his ground and started playing, a Beatles song, Mother Nature Son. The melody was simple and beautiful; it was written while The Beatles were at their India phase. House lost himself for two minutes.

When he opened his eyes, Wilson and a two dozen people were watching him. The people were all clapping and cheering. He rolled his eyes. "Any request, Guys?" House said. "English only."

Wilson was the first one to request, "Bryan Adams, Everything I Do, I Do it For You."

House rolled his eyes, "Sappy choice, Dr. Wilson." However, he sang the song wonderfully. House doesn't like singing in front of a crowd, it was like baring his soul. In the group with these people, it was more than okay.

Wilson's requested song ended, then there was another song by Queen; Crazy Little thing called Love.

All and all he sang twenty songs in three hours. After his in-impromptu concert, he left the shelter that day with a sense of contentment.

End of Chapter 8