CHAPTER 8: EXPLANATIONS
"OK, so far we have been wrong, but by better examining all the symptoms I think we can...", Wilson was prevented from completing his sentence when House wheeled through the Diagnostics conference room, his wife behind him. "I think I've seen this already", Taub snorted. "You notice more details when you see something for the second time", House responded. He seemed about to add something to this remark, but Wilson interjected, "So, you finally show up after two days, bringing your... wife to work again. What's up with all those antics, House?", obviously in much distress and agitation. "Team, we'll get to diagnosing later", the diagnostician addressed his fellows, pretending to ignore Wilson. He wheeled his Segway out of the room. "House, what's the meaning of this?", the oncologist asked. "See you in your office", House replied, making the oncologist sigh and run behind him.
"Let me do the talking, at least for now", House instructed Dominika, to which she nodded her agreement. "Seriously now, House, what's the meaning of this?", Wilson's voice could be heard as he strode into his office and sat at his chair. "What have you been up to those last days?", he added. "The usual stuff, like screwing up with an experimental muscle growth compound, developing tumors on my leg, calling you in vain in the middle of the night, getting my wife to take me to a hospital and deciding to move on", the diagnostician answered, adding, "Gotta give you the full version later". "What?", was all Wilson could say. "You mean you really did...", his voice faltered. "Yes, I did everything I said. The call you all received in the dead of the night from me, it was a call of help. I needed someone to excise the tumors", House replied. "That's really... For God's sake, House", the oncologist managed to say. "At a loss for words? I get you, though. You can't find an adjective to describe what I did, trying to fix my problems with untested rat medicine and screwing up performing surgery on myself", his friend quipped. "I... I really don't know... I thought...", Wilson mumbled incoherently. "I mean... Everybody thought...", he kept going, struggling to form a single sentence. "You all thought I was drunk or was in the mood for pranks. All, except... My wife", House remarked, taking Dominika's hand in his. "But you had said...", the oncologist was again interrupted, "It began as a lie, but turned out differently than I was expecting", House confessed, and Dominika blurted out, "We're a true couple now". Wilson stood dumbfounded, having trouble to possess what he'd just heard. "Cat got your tongue?", House quipped. "But, in the call, you said you were being taken care of by...", the other man again tried to say. "The redhead was Masters. My former fellow, you surely remember", House clarified. "Masters?", Wilson enquired, "Where does she pop in?". "Long story made short, when Dominika answered my call and came to my apartment, I pleaded not to be taken here. She took me to a hospital in Atlantic City, where Masters had been hired after resigning her post in my team", the diagnostician clarified. "And I was thinking you were with...", Wilson blurted out, to be again cut short by House, "With hookers? Sorry to disappoint you, but you got tricked". After saying that, House's demeanor became more serious and he said, in a tone that showed he wasn't jesting at all, "There's also something important you have to know", casting a glance at Dominika. "We're moving at Oregon", she said. "Because I've accepted an offer to lead a Diagnostics department there. Better salary, no clinic duty, a secure spot at the parking lot, access to a pain specialist and, the real crux of the matter, a real chance at moving on", House clarified. "Wow", was all Wilson could say, his head spinning. The list of privileges House mentioned concerning his new job made him reflect at how inadequately they'd responded to the needs stemming from his disability. He tried to rise from his chair, but his legs weren't able to support him. He sank back into the chair, breathing deeply. "You okay?", his friend asked him. "Yes, yes, it's just...", his voice trailed off momentarily, but this time, he completed the sentence, "It's just that it's too much in too short a timespan".
He fell silent for a moment, then enquired, "That means you... You're quitting?". "As I said to Dominika, I've decided to move on, for real this time. Yeah, I quit this job. What I'm not quitting at all is our friendship", House said in all honesty, looking straight at Wilson. "He actually worried much over your reaction to those news, Dr. Wilson", Dominika added. The oncologist sighed and, looking at his friend, said, "House, can we talk in private?". "You disapprove of my marriage and my wife so much?", the diagnostician replied. "I was under the impression that...", the words had trouble leaving his mouth. "You thought I married her to get back at Cuddy. Weren't that wrong back then, I still hadn't moved on. Now, the facts have changed. Kinda like a diagnosis. New symptoms, new conclusions", was House's reply, before he gestured for Dominika to speak. "We decided to be together for real and last night we actually...", she muttered, her eyes sporting a mischievous look. "Look, I'm not in the mood to hear about your escapades. I had to practically take over your department during your absence and now that you're back you not only don't occupy yourself with your patient, but instead...", Wilson exclaimed, in obvious agitation. "Nothing of what I said is a prank, Wilson. And, to answer the question you'd like to ask, but can't bring yourself to, Dominika isn't a hooker. She's a qualified aesthetician and pastry chef. And, what's really important, she's my wife, for real now, and all the rest is irrelevant", his friend explained, in a manner Wilson hadn't associated with him before. "And because the lil' pretty thing I have for a wife says my friends are her friends, too, she's invited you for dinner tonight", House offered, to which Dominika added, "It would be our pleasure to have you as guest". "I don't know what to say", Wilson grunted. "Just say yes", his friend suggested, adding, "She's good at cooking. And in many other things. Besides, it's not polite to turn down requests from hot girls", stroking his wife's cheek. "Wow", the oncologist blurted out again, "that's totally unexpected, given your stance on marriage". "Marriage sucks, till you find the right person. You're the living proof", House jested at his friend's expense, yet the biting comment actually made Wilson laugh. "Well, House, I'm still speechless. But, if this is what you wanna do, then... Good luck", he responded. "Thank you", both spouses said in unison.
Before anyone could say anything more, however, there was a knock on the door and Foreman entered. "House", he said, "Cuddy wants you to go to her office now". "See who's entering, the new head of the Diagnostics department", House quipped. "What did you say?", Foreman enquired. "Will explain later. Or, better to spill the beans now. This case is my last here. From September, I have a new job in Oregon. I'm moving there with my wife", the diagnostician clarified, his arm wrapped around Dominika's shoulders. "Isn't she...", the neurologist tried to say, but his superior interjected, "Now we're a real couple. And when I say real, I mean real". "Don't know what I should say, but...", Foreman replied, to be cut off again, "You should say a congratulations, but that's not the point. You wanted to say Cuddy demands I go to her office. Message received", House responded. He turned to Dominika and requested, "Go wait for me in Pediatrics. Good place to go when you wanna avoid someone. And, they have nice video games". "You don't want me with you?", she asked, cocking an eyebrow at his direction. "Let's say it's a conversation I must have with her alone. I'll try not to delay much", he responded. He headed towards the Dean of Medicine's office, bracing himself for the endgame.