Ah, here is Chapter 2 for you all

Chapter 2

Wilson sat at his desk and stared down at the file in his hands. The test results for Mark Carter, his sixteen-year-old lymphoma patient, had come back and they were definitely on the odd side. He closed the file and stood, heading for the door to the balcony. He walked along the balcony and peered into House's office, frowning when he saw that House was lying on the ground behind his desk, headphones on and eyes closed. He pushed the door open and walked in, moving to stand next to House's head. He waited patiently until House's eyes flickered open then he sat down, tossing the file on House's desk.

House pulled the headphones off. "Problems?"

"Interesting problems," Wilson replied. "But it looks like you have problems of your own."

"I think they're wrong," House said as he pushed himself to his feet and collapsed in his chair. He tossed the iPod and headphones onto the desk and picked up the file.

"Well, that's nothing unusual," Wilson observed as House read.

House frowned. "Your lymphoma patient has pneumonia and a kidney infection. What are these headaches he's having like?"

"Pretty severe," Wilson replied.

"He's obviously got a systemic infection of some kind," House said thoughtfully.

"Well, yes, that's obvious," Wilson replied. "But what kind? It's nothing standard or the tests would have picked it up."

House closed the file and tossed it onto his desk. He tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling for a moment. "Do you have the chest x-ray?"

"It's in my office," Wilson replied. He ducked out through the balcony door then returned with the x-ray. House grabbed it out of his hand and limped out into the conference room to view the film. He turned on the light source and peered at the image.

"Infiltrates and nodules," he muttered. "But the sputum test was inconclusive?"

"Not as such," Wilson replied. "They just couldn't identify the bacteria involved. The lab's working on it."

"Could be a fungus instead," House said.

"But he has a kidney infection as well," Wilson objected. "That would make a fungal infection as the source of the pneumonia unlikely."

"Unless he's got two infections," House replied.

"Can we start with the simple options first?" Wilson said firmly. "If that doesn't work out, we'll go for the bizarre later."

"Let's get a CT of his chest," House said abruptly, pulling the x-ray off the light source. "And get a CT with contrast of his head."

"You have an idea," Wilson said.

"I have a suspicion," House corrected. "But I want to see the CT scans first."

"You never have been good at sharing," Wilson said with amusement as he took the x-ray. "They must have hated you in kindergarten."

"I like the looks of wonder and the exclamations about my brilliance that come when I apparently pull a diagnosis out of thin air. If Sherlock Holmes could do it, why can't I?" House replied with equal amusement. "And they loved me in kindergarten."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "I'll get those scans done." He headed for the door then paused. "Oh, I'll be late tonight. I have a meeting with my lawyer."

House hesitated in the act of going back to his office. "Julie being painful?"

"Well, she's not overly happy with either of us right now but she's not making things difficult with the divorce," Wilson replied. "Turns out she was having an affair so she's got no grounds to complain about us." He paused. "I think she just doesn't like the idea that her husband left her for another man."

"That's got to be a blow to the feminine ego," House said smugly.

"Just don't wear that expression on your face if you happen to end up anywhere near her," Wilson said with a shake of his head. "Waving red rags in front of bulls is not a good idea."

A smile flashed briefly across House's face and he continued on towards his office. "I think I'm safe waving this red rag, Julie would be classified as a cow after all."

Wilson covered his face briefly with one hand. "I'm not touching that statement," he muttered then beat a hasty retreat before House could contribute something more cutting.

House watched him go, amusement gleaming in his eyes, then he headed back into his office. He was sure his ducklings were wrong, he just couldn't figure exactly why he thought that. Each of them had come up with a plausible explanation and each could be right. There was just something about the list of symptoms that didn't sit right. He sighed as he grabbed his iPod and lowered himself back down to the floor. He was honest enough in the silence of his own mind to acknowledge the fact that he was overly tired and that this wasn't helping his thought processes. He wasn't unacquainted with insomnia but he'd never had it so regularly before and not even the comforting presence of Wilson in his bed was enough to enable him to sleep right through the night. And Wilson had only woken on about half of his sleepless nights so he wasn't exactly aware of the true extent of the problem.

He drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly as Mick Jagger wailed about St Petersburg and Anastasia. He let the music float to the back of his mind and become the white noise that would drown out, at least temporarily, the never-ending throb of pain from his leg. He couldn't do much about the fatigue caused by his insomnia but knowing it was there would probably be enough to let him think around it. He was then free to concentrate on the case or, as it had suddenly become with Wilson's patient, cases.

He was still lying there when his team returned, armed with test results and looking decidedly unhappy. The three young doctors saw him lying behind his desk and exchanged glances. Cameron rolled her eyes and headed for the office, knocking twice on the door before opening it. She walked around House's desk and crouched down beside him, tapping him on the shoulder.

House opened his eyes and gave Cameron an irritated look. He pulled one of the earpieces out of his ear. "What?"

"We've got the test results back," she said.

House grunted and waved her away before pulling the other earpiece out. He turned the iPod off and tossed up onto his desk before slowly and painfully climbing to his feet. Once he was upright, he glared at Cameron even though she had only made an abortive move to help him and had stopped even that quickly enough. His eyes narrowed as he took in her expression and he glanced out into the conference room, a smirk breaking out on his face. He limped out into the conference room and faced his team as Cameron sat down.

"Well?" he said smugly.

The three doctors exchanged glances again.

"The electromyography exam and the nerve conduction study showed no myelin loss and his cerebrospinal fluid showed normal protein levels," Foreman said flatly.

"His CBC was normal and there was no sign of arsenic in his system," Chase reported. "He had low levels of both lead and mercury but way below dangerous levels."

"And his porphyrin levels were normal as well," Cameron finished.

"So it's not Guillain-Barre," House said, drawing a firm line through the words on the whiteboard. "And it's not heavy metal toxicity or porphyria." He paused. "What a shame. A vampire would at least have been interesting. So, it could still be thiamine deficiency. We won't know if the thiamine supplements are working for a few more days."

House fixed his gaze on Foreman and Chase and smirked. "So…you two got blown out of the water. Cameron's winning so far. What can you come up with now, assuming it's not beri-beri?"

The two men were silent for a moment then Chase frowned. "It…could be poliomyelitis. The early symptoms are flu-like which would explain the nausea and vomiting and it does affect the central nervous system."

"Polio doesn't cause hallucinations though," Foreman objected. "Or vision problems. It causes muscle weakness."

"True but do you have a better idea?" House said as he wrote poliomyelitis on the whiteboard.

Foreman grimaced and sighed. "Actually I liked Chase's idea," he admittedly reluctantly. "Heavy metal toxicity."

"Really?" Chase said with surprise.

Foreman scowled. "Heavy metal toxicity fits the symptoms better than any other explanation. Either that or an alkaloid."

"See? Chase can come up with a good idea from time to time," House said with mock-brightness, drawing an irritated look from Chase. "If it's not lead, mercury or arsenic, what else could it be?"

"Colchicine," Foreman said bluntly. "Thallium. Selenium. Any of those could produce the symptoms Andrew Watson is exhibiting."

"Well, some of them anyway," House said, considering the idea with a frown. "Hmm, you're starting to make sense…and so is Chase. Maybe I'm coming down with something."

He got glares from both Foreman and Chase this time. He ignored them as he limped back and forth in front of the whiteboard.

"Viral cultures for the poliomyelitis," he said. "And blood and urine tests for colchicine, selenium and thallium. Also find out if he's been taking hydralazine. Hydralazine toxicity could cause these symptoms as well."

The three doctors pushed back their chairs and headed out of the conference room. House didn't watch them go; he'd turned back to the white board and was contemplating the new avenues they were now investigating. He tapped the pen against the board then finally circled one of the options.

"Thallium toxicity?" Wilson said from the doorway, startling House.

"I'm going to get you a bell," House grumbled.

"That'd start some interesting rumours," Wilson replied. "Thallium toxicity?"

"It's the best fit for the symptoms," House said as he limped towards his office, Wilson coming up beside him. "We'll know in a couple of days. If it is thallium poisoning, he'll start losing his hair in the next few days."

"It's not going to kill him in the meantime?" Wilson asked.

House paused beside his desk then headed out onto the balcony. "Probably not."

House leaned on the balustrade and looked outwards, hanging his cane next to him. Wilson came up beside him on his right and leaned with his back to the view. He frowned as he got a good look at House's face in the daylight.

"Dammit!" he breathed. "When was the last time you got a decent night's sleep?"

House scowled and opened his mouth to give a scathing answer.

"Don't!" Wilson replied firmly before House could say anything. "Don't fob me off. Don't lie to me. Don't treat me like an idiot. You wanted this change in our relationship as much as I did but you don't get to have it all your own way. Now answer the question."

House looked away, his shoulders showing his tension clear as day. Wilson crossed his arms over his chest and waited impatiently.

Finally House grimaced. "Two weeks," he said stiffly.

"When you were in hospital? You last slept properly when you were in here as a patient two weeks ago?" Wilson asked, exasperation and worry tinting his voice.

House gave a short nod and scowled. "That's what I said. It wasn't that difficult to understand, was it? I thought I was speaking English."

Wilson sighed and ran a hand down his face, ignoring the irritated answer he'd gotten. "I knew you were having trouble sleeping but I thought I'd woken up each time. Why didn't you say anything?"

"So you could what precisely?" House snapped. "You know I don't like taking sleeping pills."

"Well, there are other ways of getting back to sleep," Wilson said a tiny smile flickering around his lips. "But I was thinking more about solving the problem that's keeping you awake in the first place."

House scowled and his shoulders tensed again. He didn't want to talk about this; he didn't even really want to think about it. He couldn't quite work out why Armitage breaking into his apartment had set him so much on edge. Whether it was just simply the violation of his space and his privacy or whether it had more to do with what had actually happened after he and Wilson had got home. Or perhaps even both.

But it seemed that he wasn't going to be allowed the option of ignoring it. Wilson wanted to talk about it and House had a sneaking suspicion that the only way he could avoid this conversation would be to say something devastatingly cruel and while that would certainly mean that the conversation would be put aside, it would probably also mean that he would sleeping on his own for a while. This was why he usually avoided personal relationships; as Wilson had said, he couldn't have things all his own way. For this to work he did actually have to give something back and that was a situation that definitely had him outside his comfort zone. The only reason this relationship had a snowball's chance in hell of lasting was because it was Wilson and Wilson was the one person who actually knew when to back off and when to push. Something he'd learned through experience.

"I don't know what the problem is," House admitted reluctantly.

"Except that it's got something to do with Armitage breaking in," Wilson stated.

He felt a certain amount of relief that House was actually talking about this. There were no guarantees with Greg House when it came to talking about personal problems; hell, it had taken a week of pain, detoxing and broken bones in his hand to get him to actually admit he was addicted to the Vicodin.

"Yes. No…maybe," House said, staring out at the view.

"Armitage is in prison and he's not going to be released any time soon, if ever. He's certainly not going to be released on bail before his court date," Wilson said logically. "The locks have been changed and we can look at installing a security system." He paused and considered what he wanted to say next; it was somewhat akin to sticking one's head into the lion's mouth but he thought he might as well throw the suggestion out there. "Have you thought about speaking to someone about this?"

"I am speaking to someone," House said acidly. "I'm speaking to you."

"Well, true," Wilson said. "But I was thinking more about someone better qualified to deal with this."

House snorted, feeling the conversation edge slightly back into the more comfortable region of their usual bantering way of talking. "Who's better qualified to deal with me? You or some two-bit shrink with dubious qualifications from some college famous for producing dunce-like quacks?"

Wilson rolled his eyes and gave an exasperated sigh. There was a certain amount of truth in that question. Any counsellor that House went to see would inevitably veer away from the current insomnia and want to try and solve all of House's not inconsiderable troubles. The problem with that was House didn't really want his problems solved and Wilson wasn't sure that they even could be completely solved, particularly after all this time.

"That would work better if you actually told me when you were having a problem," Wilson said flatly.

"You know about this one," House replied with a dismissive shrug.

"Only after I dragged it out of you," Wilson countered. "You didn't exactly volunteer the information."

"But I still told you," House said.

Wilson sighed again. That was true enough and House had even told him without most of his usual evasions and misdirections. He doubted anyone else would have managed that much though it was possible Cuddy could have dragged the information out, kicking and screaming if necessary. He and Lisa Cuddy had the most success in dealing with House, though in two completely different ways.

"Yes, you did," Wilson admitted with reluctance.

It was House's turn to sigh and he shifted around so that his left hip was propped against the balustrade and he was facing Wilson.

"If I knew why I couldn't sleep, I'd tell you," he said honestly.

Wilson stared at him for a long moment then nodded. "Will you wake me up the next time you can't sleep?"

House snorted. "Why?" he asked scornfully. "So that we can both be tired and cranky the next day?"

"You're always cranky," Wilson shot back.

"Exactly. So if St Wilson starts acting cranky, people will start talking," House said with amusement.

Wilson rolled his eyes. "They're already doing that. Your ducklings are not the most discreet people on this earth." He paused and pretended to consider the matter. "Mind you, people have always talked about us; it's just that before they were wrong."

House snorted and one side of his mouth curled upwards. "Well then, we probably shouldn't add to it, should we?"

"I would rather you woke me up," Wilson insisted.

"Why?" House leered at his lover in a swift change of mood.

Wilson blushed and a grin slowly took up residence on his face. "Well, as I said before there are other ways of getting back to sleep."

A large amount of the tension flowed out of House's shoulders and the leer turned into something a touch more heated and affectionate.

"Hmm, maybe that would work," he said.

He reached out and grabbed Wilson's tie, pulling the younger man into a heated kiss. Wilson made a sound of protest then wrapped an arm around House, his other hand going out to the balustrade to steady them both. House let go of the tie and pulled Wilson tight against him, trusting the other man wouldn't let them fall.

The sound of someone clearing their throat had them pulling away from each other and House wavered momentarily until Wilson caught and steadied him. House grabbed his cane and gave Wilson an appreciative look before turning around to glare at whoever had interrupted them.

Lisa Cuddy was standing in the doorway of House's office with an expression of exasperation on her face that was warring with her obvious amusement.

"You two do realise there are some things that shouldn't be done on a balcony in front of offices with glass walls," she said as severely as she could manage. "I'm surprised you don't have more of an audience. People are always looking for a distraction in a hospital."

Wilson blushed and ducked his head, running a nervous hand through his hair. House just smirked.

"Did we distract you enough?" he said smugly.

Cuddy aimed for amused condescension and managed to achieve it. "Dr House, what you do with or to Dr Wilson is your own affair. Personally I would prefer it if you kept your groping of each other to times and places that are more appropriate and perhaps more private and less work-related but that's not why I'm here. Right now you need to be down in the clinic."

"But I'm working," House said with mock-concern. "Two cases even. Very tricky, don't know what's making them sick."

"Yes, I can see you're working very hard," Cuddy said dryly, her gaze flicking between him and Wilson. "The clinic, Dr House. Now."

House shot a look at Wilson but was interrupted before he could say anything.

"And don't expect Dr Wilson to save you," Cuddy continued inexorably. "I believe he has patients of his own. In fact, I believe he has an appointment very soon."

Wilson glanced at his watch and gave a start. "Damn! Yes, I do."

Wilson turned towards his office then spun around and planted a warm kiss on House's mouth that promised they'd revisit this later then he disappeared into his office. House watched him go with a raised eyebrow then looked over at Cuddy with a smug expression.

Cuddy rolled her eyes. "The clinic, Dr House. There are patients waiting."

"And if they wait long enough they'll all get better on their own," House replied as he limped into his office.

"Perhaps they will but it's your job to help that process along," Cuddy replied as she moved out of the door to let him pass. "Go."

"Yes, ma'am," House said with a sloppy salute as he headed for the door and his afternoon of torture.