A/N: First of all, I have to apologize for neglecting two reviewers when I was thanking them last chapter: I managed to forget HousePlant and Quill-32. Sorry! And now I have a whole crowd of new reviewers: Merlin71, House Calls, Rchase-and-taylor, Allison Cameron MD, Megan, House-chik, Caitiri, and Darcy – thanks so much for taking the time to review. I'm glad so many of you like it.

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Couldst thou make men to live eternally,
Or, being dead, raise them to life again,
Then this profession were to be esteem'd.

--Christopher Marlowe

"Throw him out."

"Why, Dr. Chase, I'm surprised at you. What happened to Christian charity? At least consider poor Cuddy. She'll have an aneurysm if she loses another hundred million."

"He isn't sick. Give him some placeboes and discharge him."

"Chase, be serious," Foreman said, shaking his head. He looked at Cameron for support, but she was studying House, as she had since she'd returned. "We already know there's nothing wrong with him, but if we can just—"

"There is something wrong with him," Chase cut in. "It just isn't something a hospital can fix."

House frowned, his sharp blue eyes not leaving Chase, who stood tensely in the middle fo the conference room. "I don't want him here any more than you do. But we need a reason to kick him out that won't make us sound crazy when we try to explain it to the board."

"Since when do you care what the board thinks? Cuddy will--"

"Even if we talk Cuddy into kicking him out, the board will probably just fire her and we'll still be stuck with him. So give me a reason." His words were hard, but his look was not unsympathetic.

Chase hesitated so long that House was about to speak again. "He's… manipulative."

"So am I. Are you going to throw me out, too?"

Chase shook his head sharply. "Not like that, he… 'There is also another evil, which I have seen under the sun, and that frequent among men: A man to whom God hath given riches, and substance, and honor.'"

"Chase," Cameron began, but he merely continued. She looked at House again, and whatever she read in his face only made her more uneasy.

"'If a man live many years, and attain to a great age, and his soul make no use of the goods of his substance, of this man I pronounce, that the untimely born is better than he. For he came in vain, and goeth to darkness.'"

"You want me to quote Ecclesiastes to the board?" It was a typical House remark, but the edge was all but gone from his voice.

Foreman was looking doubtfully at his colleague. "You could say the same thing about any rich man. What makes this one so different?"

"He's evil." Chase looked almost defeated, and did not meet anyone's eyes.

There was an awkward silence. Then House spoke.

"I think you're right."

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Cameron had bolted when House left the room after his blunt statement, and was now hurrying to catch up to him as he stalked down the hallway. "What are you going to do?"

"If Cuddy asks, I'll tell her you knew nothing about it."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

Cameron only caught the hesitation before he replied because she was listening for it. "What, then? You want to protect me from the big bad misunderstood billionaire?"

"I think Chase is right, too."

"Now that's a sentence you don't hear every day. Especially the 'too' part." He slowed down, and Cameron took advantage of this to put her hand on his arm. Though he slowed further, he still wouldn't quite look at her.

"I saw how he looked when he came out of that room. He wouldn't tell me what happened, but he was only in there for five seconds. Nothing normal could have affected him like that so quickly."

"Don't be too sure. This is Chase we're talking about."

But he didn't turn away as he normally would have. "Don't go in there by yourself."

"I'm not letting you anywhere near him." The false banter was gone, and Cameron knew he was deadly serious.

She immediately changed tactics. "Then take Foreman with you. An orderly, a nurse, somebody. Take a whole crowd with you!"

He stopped walking at last, and his eyes met hers. "Since when does an atheist believe in the devil?"

Her heart clenched at the word. "He doesn't have to be the devil to be evil."

"'The belief in a supernatural source of evil is not necessary…'"

"'…men alone are quite capable of every wickedness.'" Cameron finished the quote, looking up at him almost hopefully.

"You're still waiting outside."

"House, please—"

"You still don't remember anything else about what might have happened to you?"

She saw concern, and, yes, uncertainty in his eyes, and that was somehow more frightening than anything Oswin could do. "No. It feels like a dream now. All I remember is feeling sorry for him."

House looked up at Oswin's door, now just a few yards away, and frowned. "Looks like I'm expected. I guess I'd better hurry."

Her eyes flickered over to the door. Oswin's helpers were just leaving the room, looking at House with vague curiosity. Or perhaps amusement.

Then House limped away. She followed him to the door, sending a chilly glare at the assistants as they passed each other.

They reached the door, and House looked at her very seriously. "Wait here, or you're fired."

Cameron bit her lip and nodded. She was relieved that he'd been his usual self. If he'd told her kindly, she probably would have burst into tears.

Then he was stepping into the room, and shutting the door behind him. The sound of it was like distant thunder.

She turned and planted herself next to the door, shooting wary glances at the assistants and their bland faces. There was no question of her physically stopping them from entering, but if something did happen, she would at least get inside first.

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"Ah, Dr. House. I'm glad you could spare me some time."

"Not at all. I've always wanted to have a chat with the Amazing Kreskin."

Oswin shook his head. "You don't really think I'm some kind of sideshow hypnotist, Dr. House. You'd like to believe that it's something like that, but you know it isn't true."

Even using his title, there was something sickeningly familiar about the way Oswin addressed him. "Actually, I heard you were evil and that got me curious. Are you more evil than, say, Hitler? Because then I can brag about having shaken your hand."

Now the man smiled. "You are clever, Dr. House. I understand wanting to defuse the situation with your delightfully dry and acerbic humor, but we really should get to business. I'd like to tell you a story. Sit down. Rest your leg."

House would sooner have had another infarction than show weakness in front of this man. "Go on," he said, bracing himself.

Oswin shrugged eloquently. "You do like to make things difficult for yourself. Still, it isn't a particularly long story. I can be quite brief."

When he began the story, House's first thought was that the comparison to Hitler had been more apt than he'd realized. The words were simple, the way they were spoken was nothing remarkable, but he was immediately caught up in them. He had just time to wonder if hours or days would have passed before he made it back outside before the words carried him away.

Once upon a time, there was a young man who wanted what most young men want out of life – money, success, power, and, of course, sex. Not having been born to money or power, he had to make his own way in the world. He had a little more wit and imagination than most, but this is not generally enough to make one's way, and he was no exception.

One day, he approached a man of wealth and power and asked him for the plain truth of his success. The man looked the boy up and down, then nodded once.

And he told the boy the plain truth.

The boy followed the wealthy man's advice to the letter, and because of this, found himself in possession of a rare and valuable commodity: the three wishes of fairy tale infamy.

Since he was a boy of some wit and imagination, he vowed to do even more with these wishes than his mentor had done. To wish for money, fame, and power was all well and good, but that would not give him the means to keep those things.

So he wished, first, for an uncanny sense of business; the instinct to know when to move and when to wait. This let him build his own fortune.

Secondly, he wished that anyone who heard his words would have to listen, and believe. This brought him fame, or at least as much of that as he wished.

And thirdly, he wished for the gift of seeing into others' hearts, of knowing their deepest wishes and desires. And this gave him true power.

To have these three things for the next sixty years of his life, all he had to give in exchange was one small part of himself, something he had never seen and would never miss.

What do you think of the boy's bargain? Would you have made the exchange as readily as he did, Dr. House?

House physically staggered as the sound of his name penetrated whatever web the man had woven. His leg throbbed viciously as he righted himself. How long had he been standing there? He scrambled for something to say. It was only more weakness to be at a loss for words.

"I'd love to know what it was you were on. That must have been some strong stuff."

"You know all about drug addiction, don't you? You were unwilling to trade your leg for your life. What would you give now to have your leg back, whole and healthy, just as it was?"

"Trick question," House snapped. Bile rose in his throat at the thought of this man knowing about his leg, his pain, everything he hid from the world.

"Not at all. You can have that. Youth, strength, wholeness. Fame, wealth, power."

"Good things come in threes, huh?" The snark was all but automatic, but in his mind, he was still reeling.

"Then how about respect, adoration, love? Are you as indifferent to those things as you pretend?"

"I thought you already knew all that." The response was again automatic, and House soon regretted it.

"Yes, I do. I know." Oswin leaned forward. "I know how much pain you're in, all the kinds of pain you're in. I know how you fight against it, how much you fear that it will take away your mind as well as your leg. In your most secret moments you fear that someday, you will be nothing but the pain.

"You can lose that pain. You can gain strength, knowledge, the world if you want it! Think."

Thinking about the possibilities was already all House could do. The images pounded painfully in his mind, echoing the throbbing hurt of his thigh. Whole. No pain. Impossible. Wasn't it?

"Why are you doing this?" His voice was shakier than he liked, but this was what he had to do. He had to attack.

"I want to help you." The words came smoothly, but there was a weakening in his eyes that made House feel stronger.

"No, you don't. You're going down. You're dying. Maybe you just want to take someone with you."

Oswin actually hesitated, and House stood a little taller. "I won't die. You'll save me."

The arrogance still filled his voice, but House, of all people, knew a brave front when he saw one. "If your little fairy tale is true, what makes you think anyone can save you? You're alone now, and all your money, everything you have, means exactly nothing."

But Oswin was rallying, and he replied rapidly. "I'm not alone. We're more alike than you realize. Think what we could do together! Both of us are intelligent, capable men, renowned in our fields. We're both driven, determined—"

House shook his head and looked down at the remnants of his thigh. Your leg. Whole.

No. Not like this. He lifted his head and met Oswin's gaze fearlessly. "I am nothing like you."

As he enunciated each word clearly, he saw the answering realization in Oswin's eyes.

Then rage flooded into those grey eyes, and House flinched in spite of himself. "You're right. You act ruthless, pretend you don't give a damn about anything but yourself, but in the end, you're as weak as everyone else. You're just a hypocrite about it. You've surrounded yourself with idiots. Dr Foreman doesn't have enough imagination even to guess what's really going on, and Dr. Chase is still clinging to blind religious faith, of all things. And Dr. Cameron…."

He paused, his lip curled slyly. He no longer hoped to persuade, only to wound. "If I was in your place, I wouldn't be daydreaming. I would have fucked that pretty little thing a long time ago. She looks delicious."

The tip of House's cane was pushing, hard, against Oswin's shoulder before the last word left his mouth. House didn't remember moving, but at least this time, it wasn't because of any mind games. "You'd better stop talking."

"Or what? You'll kill me? Don't you know what's waiting for me? Go ahead, kill me. Kill me!"

But all the anger had drained out of House. The sight of the sheer, animal terror in Oswin's eyes shook him, and he stumbled backwards.

The door flew open. "House!" Cameron said breathlessly.

"Out. Now." His voice was more a growl than words. Cameron stepped back into the hall immediately, though she kept the door from swinging shut.

House turned to look at his patient. He looked every day of his eighty years now, his body hunched as though waiting forthe blow. of House's cane. He would not lookup as House left, his free arm scooping Cameron away from the door.

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After rounding the corner, House turned and went into an empty patient room, Cameron in his wake. "What happened?" she said breathlessly. She'd been unable to read anything in his face, and this was frightening her more than she cared to think about.

"Where'd his minions go?" was House's only reply.

"I don't know. They looked at each other strangely and left just a couple of minutes after you went inside."

"How long was I in there?"

"Eighteen minutes and twenty-three seconds. House, what happened?"

House almost laughed out of sheer relief. "I always knew you counted the seconds until you could see me again." But he couldn't stand the fear in her eyes and continued immediately. "He tried to play me like he did you and Chase. Unfortunately for him, I don't play so easily."

Yeah, right. He could feel Cameron's eyes on him, and sense how uncertain she was. Her worry annoyed him just as much as it always did when directed at him, but this time it was also exactly what he needed.

"What do we do now?" she finally asked softly.

"Chase was right. A hospital can't fix him."

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A/N: To be continued. To give proper credit for the quotes: Chase does in fact quote Ecclesiastes, chapter six; House and Cameron jointly quote Joseph Conrad; and the opening quotes, chapter titles, and the overall story title are all from Christopher Marlowe's The Tragical History of Dr. Faustus. I didn't want to mention that before, of course…