FAMILY COMPLICATIONS
INTRODUCTION: Set one year after the events of my story "Pain and Relief". House has settled down in Oregon, having moved on, until a new medical riddle forces him to deal with old demons. Chase also has a major role to play. Post-canon, AU.
CHAPTER 1: A PAGE TURNED
It was a nice spring evening, gradually yielding to night. The sun was setting and a gentle breeze was blowing. The setting looked as if it was coming out of a painting.
Gregory House was mounting his motorcycle, heading for his home. He had done his job for the day, having tackled another very difficult medical riddle.
Truth be told, the diagnostician was genuinely pleased with the latest turn of events. The Dean of Medicine in the hospital he now worked, Dr. Cooper, had kept all his promises. No clinic duty, proper place in the parking lot, weekly appointment with the best pain specialist in the state. Having no boring clinic hours resulted in him being able to take more cases and handle two patients simultaneously. And the same exemption applied to all the members of his team.
His new team was not exactly new, which also satisfied him. He knew from the beginning that Martha Masters would be working under him, but he didn't expect that Chase would also quit his job at Princeton-Plainsboro to work with him in Oregon. The third team member was Dr. Cheng, the female pediatrician Taub had briefly hired, back then when Thirteen's place needed to be filled.
He missed the other team members that he was acquainted with. But, most of all, he missed Wilson. They spoke on the phone virtually every day and had exchanged some visits, but it wasn't the same. More than once had House implored his friend to contact Dr. Cooper and ask for a position in the Oncology department. And, frankly, an oncologist of Wilson's calibre would be much welcome there. Yet, his friend had kept saying no to the request.
The wind whipped on his face as he drove all the way to his place. His dwelling now was bigger than the apartment he was occupying in 221B Baker Street, back in Princeton. And it wasn't an apartment, but a detached house. That had been Dominika's idea and he had finally agreed to it, after some objections. "Bigger house means more space", she had quipped, and he had chuckled to that remark, but had nonetheless proceeded according to her wish.
He parked his motorcycle and limped his way to the door. After a brief search in his pockets, he produced his keys and unlocked it.
In the usual fashion, he dropped his backpack and was about to call his wife's name and announce his presence, but then he heard her voice from the other end of the house. Apparently, she was talking to someone on the phone, given that she was saying something in her native language.
Mere moments later, she'd hanged up. "I'm home", the diagnostician announced, dropping his backpack. "Oh, I'm sorry I didn't notice you", Dominika's voice was heard slightly surprised.
Mere moments later, she was helping him get out of his shoes and into the slippers he now used to wear at home. "How was your day?", she asked him, as they took a seat on the couch.
"Not bad", he replied, adding, "That moron I was treating couldn't provide a proper medical history, though".
"And your other appointment?", she kept enquiring. "The one with Dr. Richardson", she clarified. House sighed for a moment and proceeded to explain how the meeting had proceeded.
"You know his theory that my pill problem isn't a true addiction, but pseudo-addiction, 'cause nobody took my pain as seriously as they should. Overall, he's satisfied with the progress we've made the last months and he's now proposing a new treatment", he stated.
"New treatment? Like meds?", she asked.
"The crux of the matter, it's still experimental. It can either do its job or ruin our progress. He's confident it's gonna be a huge success, though", he responded.
"But you're not?", Dominika enquired again.
"Medically speaking, it's very likely the compound will do its job. And if it does...", his voice faltered momentarily, but then he resumed speaking, "then the pain level will drop to more than half and I'm gonna have no trouble quitting Vicodin. Currently, the level is at 6. If the compound succeeds, taking it will reduce the pain to 2.5. Limp won't vanish, though", he finished his sentence.
"If you don't doubt it's gonna work, why are you frowning?", she asked softly, her smooth fingertips tracing the outline of his face. "It's just... All those years, I've been looking for a way to ease the pain. And, now, the guy says it's much likely that the pain will recede to manageable levels. Doesn't it sound too good to be true?", he responded in all honesty.
"It's good, but why couldn't it be true? I'm not doctor, but, since you said it's very likely to work...", her voice trailed off. "And what if I need the pain to properly do my job?", he expressed the thought tormenting his mind.
"We've already talked about it before. Your brilliant mind works perfectly well on its own. Without pain, you're gonna be even better", she said reassuringly, placing her hand in his.
"You really think so? You seem to place a lot of esteem on my capabilities. But, you remember what I told you about the time I was on methadone. I felt better and I almost killed my patient", he replied, looking downcast. "But you couldn't know...", she started saying in protest, but he stopped her.
"I know what you're gonna say, but...", he shot back, only to be interrupted in mid-sentence. "But nothing! It's not reasonable to think you need pain to be brilliant doctor!", she chided.
He exhaled audibly. "I know you're trying to make me feel better. And I appreciate this, a lot", he said, looking at her straight in the eye.
"I want you to be happy always", she remarked, elaborating, "and thinking that you're gonna be almost free from pain makes me... well, very glad".
"I'd say we have to wait and see", he observed almost dryly, her display of affection making him almost too uncomfortable. Trying to change the topic, he asked, "What about you? How was your day?".
"Good enough. I did some housework, cooking and all", she answered. "You still don't take it easy with housework", he playfully mused. "If anything, I try to be good House-wife", she repeated the pun she was fond of.
"And who was on the phone when I entered?", he maintained the conversation. "My mother", she answered, adding, "She was giving me update on how things are back home".
She then turned to face him and issued her own question, "Why are you still avoiding your own mother? I mean, you've told me about your father and what he did to you, but avoiding your mother even now is sort of...", her voice trailed off.
"Let's just say I have no appetite for family bonding at the time being. My mother doesn't even know where I'm living or that I'm a married man now", he confessed.
"You don't feel comfortable enough with our marriage to tell her?", she enquired. "Don't say that. You coming into my life has been the closest thing to a blessing I've ever experienced. On par with my friendship with Wilson. My mother, though, won't understand", he answered.
"And you're gonna get hurt if she isn't pleased?", she cocked an eyebrow suggestively. "Not that she has any moral high ground. I'm the living proof of it", he quipped.
His biting remark elicited a chuckle from her. "But you still care for her opinion...", she mused.
For a moment, they both remained silent, House sporting a frown. The conversation obviously had taken its toll on him. Wanting to cheer him up, Dominika changed subject. "Want me to set table?", she offered. "Just stay here", he responded, pulling her closer and lightly stroking her hair. He breathed in her scent. She closed her eyes and gently laid her head on his shoulder, savouring that moment of tenderness.
Minute succeeded minute, finding them in that position. Finally, House snapped her out of her thoughts, shifting position and issuing his challenge: "Are you up for another round of the video game we left unfinished yesterday?". "You gotta lose", she replied, with a mischievous glint in her eyes, understanding his need to focus on something else than his troubled childhood and dysfunctional family.
Both of them were deeply engrossed in the game, when his phone rang. "It's Wilson", he stated, recognizing the ringtone and went to answer the phone.
"House?", the oncologist's voice could be heard, amidst some kind of hubbub. "What's going on there, Wilson?", the diagnostician asked. "Nothing important, the nurses demand a raise and Cuddy had Treiber to explain that the hospital can't afford it. I want to tell you something completely different", his friend explained. "What?", House kept asking. "Your mother... She's flying to Oregon. She wants to see you, don't ask me why, I don't know. As I didn't know that you hadn't updated her about your location", the oncologist answered. "You told her where I work? Of course you did, don't try to deny it, your voice will be smelling of fib", the diagnostician remarked. "Don't be like a kid and don't try to avoid your mother. From what I understand, she needs to tell you something really, really important", Wilson kindly advised.
"If she finds me, she gets to tell me. Otherwise, she has to tell you and you're gonna tell me", House quipped and hanged up.
"Everything OK?", Dominika asked. "A while before, we were talking about my mother. Out of the blue, she remembered she has a son and looked for me, 'cause she wants to tell me something. She couldn't find me, of course, so she went to Wilson. Wilson told her where I'm currently working and who knows what else", he informed her.
"This means you're gonna meet her?", she enquired. "This means I'm gonna avoid her", he explained. "Tomorrow, you're coming with me for a short trip. Oregon has some nice things to see, so I'm taking you for a tour", he added.
"I'd love to, but wouldn't it be better for you to talk to your mother?", she said. "Trust me, it's better if we avoid her. Are you joining me for the trip or not?", he insisted. "I'm coming", she gave in.
"Great. Let's finish the game and pack. We're leaving at dawn", he announced, clarifying, "we gotta be away from home for at least some days".
He sighed deeply again and sat back on the couch. As Dominika gazed at his eyes, she knew he was feeling ambivalent about all this, and deeply uncomfortable.