Chp One

The day started out bad from the beginning. His alarm clock had refused to go off, causing him to wake up two hours later than when he was supposed to already be at the hospital. After much cursing and a quick, hot shower, Dr. Gregory House realized he had forgotten to set the alarm on the clock in the first place. He just simply glared at the inanimate object as he finished dressing and then limped out of his bedroom.

Coffee had already been made, and the fragments of the person long gone now suddenly made House lonely. He poured himself a cup of the French vanilla tasting liquid, fixed it the way he liked it, and stood there sulking as he stared at the dirty dish and mug in the sink. Once the coffee was gone, he rinsed out his mug and let it join his lover's. He took a quick glance at his watch as he limped out of the kitchen. It read twenty after eleven, and after calculating the numerous hours of sleep House had managed to get, the doctor still felt tired. It was stress, he was sure it was, and no matter how much his lover begged and pleaded, he WAS NOT going to talk to Cuddy about having less hours. Things were already slow at the hospital now; House would go crazy if he was forced to sit at home, alone, surrounded by everything he would become bored with.

Driving in his car, it suddenly hit House that no one had called him to find out why he wasn't at the hospital yet. That meant that either something really good was happening at the hospital, or no one has noticed yet he wasn't there. Whichever it was, House didn't care; maybe he could prolong this and go to the movies, or sit in a coffee shop and drink lattés while diagnosing every person who walked in thinking nothing was wrong while their bodies were slowly dying. He could ever bring Wilson along, but that would require going to the hospital first and he could get caught. Not only would Cuddy be mad at him, but also Volger would be down his throat again and he was feeling a little sore in the area and didn't want to risk infection.

The sudden ringing of his cell phone cut into his thoughtful plans and made the doctor frown. He pulled to a quick stop at the red light and answered his phone.

"House."

"Hey. Where are you?"

"Ooh, I love this game. What are you wearing? Am I making you hot?"

"House…" House could hear Wilson's annoyance even over the phone and could just picture him rubbing the back of his neck.

"I can tell you're in a great mood." The sarcasm could be heard loud and clear. "What's wrong? Is someone DYING at the hospital? Ooh, I know. Someone's SICK! Wow, who would have thought that?"

"Cuddy is furious because you're not here when you should have been two hours ago."

"Why? It's not going to kill her. Although…"

"She's extremely backed up at the clinic and really needs you there. I called you three times this morning and Cameron paged you twice. What happened?" He got his answer, but now House wondered why the three calls and two pages didn't wake him up.

House pressed down on the gas pedal once the light turned green. "I dunno why. I guess I was really induced in my sleep."

"Fatigue?"

House didn't answer, he just sighed. He didn't need Wilson diagnosing him over the phone.

"How much sleep have you been getting lately?"

"You should know."

"I sleep at night, House. If you wake up and go play the piano or read medical journals, I don't know unless you tell me."

"Twenty hours. Except for last night, obviously, since I got the joy of sleeping in this morning."

"Twenty! House, I told you that you're under too much stress. You need to talk to Cuddy about less hours so you can have more sleep and possibly live longer than what your future holds for you right now."

Dr. House pulled into his normal parking spot in the PPTH parking lot. He put his car in park, turned it off, and slouched in his seat.

"I don't need less hours."

"Yes, you do. You're overworked House, and you know it."

"Jimmy," House sighed. "I don't want to do this over the phone."

"Fine, fine. When are you coming in?"

"As fast as I can walk from the parking lot into the front doors."

Wilson chuckled and ignored the looks he was getting from the nurses, who seemed to be multiplying around where he stood once they learned he was talking to House.

"Right. I'll see you in a half hour."

"Nice." He said it the way he always said it when Cuddy made running jokes to him.

"Come straight to the clinic."

"But – "

"No game boy. Your staff is already in the clinic, so there's no need to hide in your office."

"Mm-hm." House hung up the phone before Wilson could order him to do anything else. He didn't mind half of the time, as long as the other half didn't have anything to do with work.

Wilson, now hearing a dead dial tone on his side of the conversation, sighed and yet smiled gently to himself. He handed to phone back to the nurse, who gave him a knowingly look as she set it back down in its base. The oncologist just acted like nothing happen, or nothing was going on, and walked away. He headed for the waiting room in the clinic, and once there he regretted going. The waiting room was over packed; he suddenly wished he had a magic wand so he could make them all disappear. It was he, Chase, Cameron, and one other doctor currently the only ones available for clinic duty. Volger needed something to be done and Cuddy was doing it. She dragged Foreman to help her, only because House himself wasn't there yet. She was mad, extremely angry, but she would deal with that when the party pooper himself showed up.

A nurse walked up to Wilson, handed him a blue file, and quickly walked away before he could ask any questions. The oncologist sighed, called out the name on the file, and headed for exam room two, bearing the hectic hours that were going to follow.