This is the final chapter for this fic - Enjoy and yes, I do intend to write more.
The drive into the hospital was completed in silence. House did not seem inclined to talk and Wilson was prepared to give his lover all the time he needed to become comfortable with what had happened this morning. After he parked the car, House levered himself out then waited.
"Coming?" he said in a deceptively casual tone once Wilson had gotten out.
"Why not?" Wilson replied. "Your coffee's better."
A smile flashed across House's face and the two doctors made their way up to House's office. Chase was waiting for them, looking both tired and slightly impatient.
"Andrew's girlfriend, Emma Davis, arrived about ten minutes ago," he said when they came out into the conference room. "She's feeling nauseous and was vomiting this morning before she came in and she says her feet and hands are tingling."
House froze in the action of picking up the coffee pot and turned slightly to stare at Chase.
"Did it just start this morning?" he demanded.
"She's been feeling nauseous for the last couple of days but passed it off as being caused by worrying about Andrew and not eating much," Chase replied. "But when her hands and feet started tingling this morning she realised that's how Andrew had reacted and she came straight in."
House put the coffee pot down and limped out of the conference room, Chase and Wilson behind him. He set a surprisingly fast pace as he headed for Andrew Watson's room. They arrived to find Cameron checking on Andrew and Foreman examining the young woman he had seen the previous day. She looked frightened and a little overwhelmed. House pulled the door open and limped in.
"Do you live with him?" House asked the young woman without preamble.
"Uh…yes, sort of," Emma replied hesitantly. "We lived together for about a year then we broke up eight months ago. We ran into each other about six weeks ago and got talking. We decided to try it again and I moved back in about a week ago."
"So it's in his home," House said under his breath then he looked down at Emma again. "What does he own that's a powder? A white powder. Something that's new. Something that he started using in the last few weeks."
Emma blinked and thought hard. "I…don't know. Oh! He…he had some new powder that one of his friends at the pool had recommended. Andrew always complains about his feet. He spends so much time around water that he has terrible problems with his feet. Tinea is the least of it."
"Have you used it?" House asked intently.
"I…yes," Emma said, her eyes widening. "It's…very high quality powder." She paled. "Is…is that what poisoned Andrew?"
"We'll need the powder," House said flatly.
"I…brought some in a couple of days ago," Emma said tearfully. "So that Andrew could keep treating his feet."
"Where is it?" House demanded.
Emma scurried over to the cabinet beside the bed. She opened the top drawer and pulled out a small bottle filled with a fine white powder. Cameron took the powder from Emma and hurried out of the room without needing any prompting.
"No wonder his symptoms worsened even with treatment," House said acidly. "He was still being exposed to it."
"Am I going to end up like Andrew?" Emma asked timorously.
"No because we're going to start treating you right away," House replied. He looked over at Chase. "Get the young lady a bed and start her on Prussian blue."
Chase nodded and gently took Emma's arm. "Come on. We can get you settled in next door."
Emma followed him almost dazedly.
"Do we continue giving Andrew the activated charcoal?" Foreman asked.
House nodded. "We'd better," he said sourly. "He's going to need all the help he can get. The continued exposure means he's at greater risk of permanent neurological damage."
"I read that forced diuresis with potassium loading can be used as an alternative treatment," Foreman said as House turned to leave.
"He's too far advanced for that to be of any use," House replied. "The excess of potassium would only exacerbate the neurological symptoms. He doesn't need that. Continue with what we've been doing. This was always going be a long term treatment."
Foreman nodded and House limped out into the corridor, Wilson joining him.
"How long term will the treatment be?" Wilson asked as they walked back to House's office.
House shrugged. "Can't tell. It'll depend on how long it takes his body to clear the thallium. And with the exposure he's had, he's probably going to have some long term ongoing neurological problems."
Wilson grimaced and held the door open for House, gaining himself a mildly irritated look. He rolled his eyes in response then headed out into the conference room for coffee. He brought a cup back for House then sat down on the other side of the desk.
"We should start getting some results back regarding the presence or otherwise of Nocardia," Wilson offered.
"It's probably in the dust," House said as he reached for his coffee cup. "But I'd like to know the original source."
"A patient or their family might have brought it in ages ago," Wilson said with frustration. "It might not even be from anyone from Oncology. The bacteria may have been in the rooms before we were shifted down here."
Wilson sighed and got to his feet. "I better go and find out what happening."
House gave him a salute with his cup and watched him go. He was still feeling a little off-balance about what had happened this morning. He hadn't even known he was going to say that but Wilson's affectionate little lecture had stunned him slightly. Hell, Wilson actually acknowledging the mess that was his right thigh by kissing it had stunned him. He stared down at the denim-encased thigh and scowled slightly. He hated the way it looked now, particularly when he remembered how it had once looked before the infarction. In truth, Wilson showed more acceptance for his leg than he did.
He leaned back in his chair and sipped at his coffee. He didn't regret what he'd said this morning, that he was sure of. He hadn't planned on saying it, hadn't expected to say it but he was…happy to have it out there. Because it was true. Because he did love James Wilson. He snorted lightly; Cameron seemed to think that if he could love someone then his life would become all sweetness and light and his happiness would be assured. Well, now he did love someone again and life didn't seem all that much different. Perhaps a bit better than it was a few weeks ago, certainly less lonely, less filled with bitterness. But little birds weren't singing, he didn't feel the urge to smile at everyone and he certainly had no great desire to be helpful and kind to all and sundry. Which just proved that Cameron needed to change her view of life and love to something a bit more realistic and until she did she was going to face a lot of disappointment in her life.
He put the cup down on his desk and grabbed his cane. One of the greatest annoyances that resulted from the infarction was that he'd always thought better on his feet, something that was now a much more painful affair. But he still did it when he needed to do some serious thinking, usually roaming the corridors of the hospital, and that was what was needed now.
He was paged to Wilson's office about an hour later and found his lover staring down at the file on his desk with irritation and frustration.
"Got the results then?" he said as he limped in and dropped into a chair.
Wilson flipped the file towards him. "They found it in the dust in practically every room," he said in something close to a growl. "The entire ward is going to have to be closed so it can be decontaminated. All of the patients moved into temporary rooms on other floors. All of the offices cleared. Everything."
"Have you told Cuddy?" House asked as he read the file.
"Yes," Wilson said, some of his frustration draining away and a small smile flitting across his face. "I could almost swear I saw a vein throbbing in her forehead."
"Hey, if her head's going to explode, I want to be there," House said with amusement.
Wilson snorted. "I wouldn't push her right now, by the way. I doubt she'd find any of your usual shenanigans amusing at this point. And I'm sure you wouldn't like any more clinic hours."
House rolled his eyes. "I'll be good, mother." He closed the file and tossed it on Wilson's desk. "How's your first Nocardiosis patient?"
"He's showing some signs of recovery," Wilson said with a sense of relief. "But it's still too early to tell for sure. It is looking like we won't have to drain the cerebral abscesses though. And there weren't any further abscesses anywhere else."
"Good," House replied.
"Mmm," Wilson muttered. "I'd still like to know where the Nocardia came from."
"So do I but we may never know," House said idly. "But it does raise some questions about the cleaning standards of the maintenance staff."
"Cuddy said something along those lines," Wilson replied. "She said something about speaking with them."
"Nothing like closing the stable door once the horse has bolted," House said dryly.
"Do we have any other option?" Wilson said with a shrug. He eyed House with a hint of concern. "Are you alright?"
House frowned. "Of course. Why?" Wilson raised an eyebrow and House rolled his eyes. "I'm fine. I don't regret saying it if that's what you were asking."
"I'm glad," Wilson replied with a brief, brilliant smile. "I was a little surprised."
House shrugged, getting a little uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. Wilson saw this and smiled wryly. He got up and walked around, leaning against his desk so that his left leg was resting against his lover's.
"So was Cameron right?" he asked with a hint of mischief. "Are you happy?"
House snorted. "Am I ever happy?"
"You were pretty pleased last night," Wilson said idly.
That drew a laugh from House and he brushed Wilson's leg with his hand. "Yeah, I guess I'm happy. But if you tell anyone, especially Cameron, I'm denying it."
"You just don't want to tell her she's right," Wilson countered.
House sobered. "She's not right. My life hasn't dramatically changed just because I admitted I love you. It's still mostly crap, my leg's still screwed up, it still hurts. It's just…better that's all."
"Well, you take what you can get," Wilson said with understanding.
House looked contemplative for a moment then he smiled. "I've got you, the 'Vette, my job. Life's about as good as it's going to get for the moment."
I know this ending wasn't as clean as the last one but it seemed the best time to end it for the House/Wilson side of the story. The medical side doesn't have a nice clean ending. Both problems, the Nocardiosis and the thallium poisoning, have a long treatment and recovery time and detailing that would take longer than I wanted - both recoveries take weeks, if not months and I think I left it in a reasonably positive way. I have no doubts I'm going to write another sequel as soon as I find something else interesting so I can do some follow-up when I do that. Hope you enjoyed it.