AN: This fiction has a minor crossover to the show House. If you haven't seen the show please don't fret, its not apart of the story for more then two chapters. And please note that time travel changes MANY things. Even a cat can slightly alter someone's occupation if it goes through time. Remember "The Butterfly Effect"? Thx again to Ashura for betaing, even though she doesn't understand the logistics of time travel.
Chapter 3
In all Honesty
"Her fever was 105 degrees; at that temperature one may experience convolutions, chills or even hallucinations. Her fever probably explains what you saw Dr. Grissom." The elderly doctor brushed back his salt and pepper hair and tried to ignore the stray hairs which flew off his head. After reaching fifty, Dr. Pendale started losing his hair. If one looked closely one may discover how thin his hair was receding. He tried to keep his hair loss under wraps, however the effects of time were irreversible.
"She was talking incoherently, are you sure it's not from a head trauma? Or from an interaction of medication? Or…" Grissom was frantic, Sara was unconscious and he was not satisfied that her behavior was simply brought on by a fever.
"Listen, the doctor who has been treating her is flying down to Vegas. His plane has probably already landed; he has her charts and medical records. He's the one that has been treating her condition on the insistence of her father." Dr. Pendale exclaimed as he poured himself a cup of coffee, trying to wake up his senses. Since yesterday night he had been on call and up for more then twenty-four hours. His eyes were slightly puffy and he was well overdue for a nap.
"What? What condition?" Grissom's heart felt as if it were about to explode as it pumped under the stress which was being thrown at him every minute.
"She didn't tell you…Then I think you should wait for her doctor. He knows more about her history then I do. Excuse me." Dr. Pendale left Grissom in order for him to compose himself, he clearly seemed to be floored by the information he had just acquired. Grissom wasn't alone for more then a minute before he heard yelling coming from the nurse's station.
"What is going on here? I told you not to put her on anything without my approval! Even something as simple as that Acetaminophen you're giving her could trigger more problems!" Dr. Gregory House was not a man of patience nor was he a doctor that would leave his own hospital to tend to an "out of state" medical emergency. However, Sara had grown on him and he had agreed to her foster father's plea for help. He had been treating her for nearly two years and had not made a significant amount of progress. Her illness was one that was not uncommon or a rarity, it was simply incurable.
People who worked in House's hospital did not know of his other degrees in medicine; he secretly held one in Oncology. (Only Cuddy knew of this secret in particular.) He chose to study Oncology all because of an estranged cat that knocked over someone's research paper, which explained the evolving techniques in curing cancer. Only if necessary would House treat cancer patients—only if he was the patient's last resort. Out of the twenty cancer patients he had dealt with in his career, eighteen had survived.
For Sara's illness he had tried various treatments, some worked for a while, while others had no effect on her recovery. House knew she would get worse and all he could do was wait for that inevitable call that would lead him to Vegas, to treat the one disease he could not cure within a couple of days. He tried to hide his sympathy for her; he hated to sympathize with his patients. Most of the time House didn't meet his patients unless he had to, he liked to make decisions without any personal attachment. His treatments were known as unorthodox however, most of the time he was able to cure those who were debilitated. This was not the case.
"Damn it! Damn it!" House swore under his breath as he frantically searched his pockets, unable to find the item which was precious to him most. It appeared he left behind his most valuable means of survival back at his residence; he could only hope he would find some replacements in the mean time.
"Nurse! Where do you guys keep your vicodin?" House asked as seriously as he possibly could, knowing very well that he looked like an addict.
"Are you joking?" The nurse asked in a mocking tone.
"No as a matter of fact I am not 'joking'. I am here on a case of the highest importance and I cannot work without my vicodin. You see Mrs…Jenkins, if I don't get my pills I get VERY cranky and I'm not a pleasure to work with. They let me do my job, and they take away my pain. So unless you want me to be a 'pain', direct me to your medicine storage." As House's eyes narrowed further, the nurse pointed down the hall, unable to say anything after the speech she had just endured. She appeared to be in a trance for several more seconds before snapping out of it and returning to her duties.
Grissom tried to catch up to the disgruntled doctor, however the cane appeared to make House move faster as he continued to focus on his new mission at hand. He needed those pills, the pain in his leg began to throb uncontrollably as he continued to move faster down the long corridors of the hospital. The smiling nurses who greeted House from every angle agitated him further as he tried to block their pearly whites from his mind. Sometimes he thought it would be much easier to carry out the rest of his life invisible, at least then he wouldn't have to deal with people.
"Dr. House?" Grissom shouted, trying to get the doctor's attention. House hesitantly turned around and allowed for Grissom to catch up.
"Ah, here we go…" House muttered tiredly. "So you must be her boyfriend I assume."
"Are you the doctor who has been treating Sara Sidle?" Grissom asked, feeling slightly nauseated at the thought of Sara needing a specialist for her illness; which still remained a mystery.
"No I'm just a nurse…What? Don't look at me that way, nurses can be men too you know." House snapped sarcastically.
"Listen, I don't have time for your games. I need to know what is going on with Sara and I know very well that you're her doctor." Grissom malevolently stated, while trying to calm his nerves before he said things which he may regret. It was bad enough that Sara never told him about her illness, but what infuriated him further was that this self-centered, arrogant doctor was the one she confided in.
"Alright then I'll just answer all of your questions in one shot." House stopped talking in mid-conversation just as the saw the medicine supply room. He stopped walking abruptly and turned to the booth. "Yes, I need a bottle of vicodin, as fast as possible." House disregarded the pharmacist's questions and didn't even bother try to calm himself down. "Listen, enough with the questions! I need that vicodin!"
The pharmacist shot House one more look of concern before heading into the back to collect the pills. Grissom theorized that House was an addict; he knew it was a trademark which came with his reputation. Grissom had heard about House's medical miracles which he perceived as an act of luck rather then practice. Grissom knew very well of House's intelligence and experience yet he hated the way he presented himself. He was appalled by the fact that Sara was being treated by this rude and abusive practitioner. If Sara had confided in him, he may have found someone more professional to cure her ailment.
House's eyes practically bulged from their sockets as the pharmacist handed him the pills.
"Now take these with plenty of water and don't have more then one every eight hours." The pharmacist insisted. House blocked the advice he knew very well out of his head, as he popped two pills in his mouth without anything to wash it down.
"Yah, yah. Want one?" House asked Grissom, knowing very well what his response would be. "Oh right, you wanna know about the girl." House fidgeted with his jacket and placed the pills inside only to hear them fall to the ground where its contents spilled onto the floor. "So that's how you got away!" He yelled at the ground as he began to quickly pick them up and placing them inside the bottle where they belonged.
"Do you mind Dr. House? I believe my patience is wearing more then thin." Grissom stated as he watched in disgust; the doctor stroked the bottle before placing it into another jacket pocket. This time the pills stayed inside.
"Sara has lung cancer. She was fine for a while but her condition has been irritated further due to recently contracting pneumonia. She's most likely going to die, the chemo has destroyed her immune system." House gave Grissom the facts without any emotion or sympathy, but that wasn't what infuriated the supervisor.
"And you're just walking around the hospital, feeding your own addiction instead of helping her?" Grissom yelled, feeling all his blood rush to his head as anger consumed his body.
"Pretty much. I can't do anything for her." House exclaimed with a hint of melancholy which would be barely noticeable to those who did not know him personally.
"What kind of a doctor are you? You don't even care for your patients let alone even try to feel the slightest degree of sympathy!" Grissom already loathed the doctor to the highest degree and he barely knew the man.
"Who are you to judge? What kind of a friend are you to Sara? You probably just found out that she had an illness, judging from your anger and confusion. I bet you're in denial huh? Sucks doesn't it, to know you can't do anything for her… To know that her life rests in my hands?" House tried to suppress his satisfaction as a pang of guilt overwhelmed him. Somehow his emotion remained hidden underneath his sarcastic exterior. "Now that we're even, let me introduce myself. I'm Doctor Gregory House." He held out his hand but was not offered a friendly embrace in return.
"I know who you are…" Grissom confessed as he took off his glasses and placed them inside one of his pant pockets. He wanted to cry, he needed solitude to comprehend the information he was just given. His heart ached more then anyone could fathom and most of all, he just wanted Sara. He wanted to be with her, to help her through this. She wasn't going to die nor was she going to stay ill. He refused to give in.
"Fantastic." House sighed as he began to walk down the hallway.
"Aren't you going to ask who I am?" Grissom questioned as he watched in annoyance as House began to walk away.
"Why does it matter?" House yelled back, as he walked further and further away from Grissom. He raised an eyebrow and didn't bother to chase him. Right now he didn't feel like moving, let alone conversing with a deranged lunatic. He needed to focus on getting Sara better and telling her the truth before it was indeed too late.
