My sincere thanks to those who offered their comments on chapters one and two. Jello is on the way to all, except for Gaze and AtreidesHeir, who get chocolate and a boiled egg, respectively. Thanks.

CHAPTER THREE

The fifth floor of Princeton Plainsboro hospital was pretty empty, with the exception of the occasional nurse, on their way to check on a patient or deliver a sample to the lab. House would have thought that there would be more doctors on the floor, the oncology ward being one of the busier parts of the hospital and cancer being such a serious illness. But it was, after all, six thirty something in the morning, and many doctors didn't come in until nine. Or they were all shut away in their offices, pretending to be too busy studying x-rays and lab results because actually having to see cancer patients and attend to them was just plain depressing. Or at least, that's what House chose to believe.

Arriving at a plain door with the words "Dr. James Wilson, M.D., Oncology", he tried the doorknob, before violently pounding on the door with his cane. "Wilson, you better be in there. Wilson? Open up!" A passing nurse slowed down to stare worriedly at him. House gave her what he believed to be a charming smile and explained "He's my boyfriend, we're having a fight." The nurse nodded in understanding, although House could tell she didn't. But she moved on, leaving him to his barrage on Wilson's office door.

"Jimmy, your wife left you! Your cancer kids got the miracle cure, all of them! Cuddy's having a baby, right now! C'mon, open up!" He kept banging with a force that might have eventually broken his cane. But there was still silence, and House could only accept the fact that Wilson was not in yet. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he punched in the number and waited for the man to pick up. When he did, his voice was hoarse and faint, indicating to House that he had only just woken up.

"Mmm…Wilson here."

"Wilson, you need to get here now."

His voice came back more alert, concerned. "What's wrong? Are you okay? Where are you at?"

"I'm at the hospital you moron."

Wilson became immediately anxious. "Is there an emergency? Is it one of my patients?"

"Do you really think that if something happened to one of your patients I would be calling you? Don't you think one of the nurses would page you?"

There was a slight pause on the other side, and House could almost hear Wilson's mind trying to wake up. He let himself feel guilty for waking up his friend so early for less than a second, then got back to his reason for calling.

"Look, just get over here, as soon as you can."

"I'd be happier if I knew why." He sounded skeptical. It wouldn't have been the first time that House had rudely inconvenienced him for his own needs.

"Yeah, and I'd be happier if hookers worked for free. Just get your ass over here. It's important." He hung up then, knowing that Wilson would show up in the next half hour or so.

In the meantime, House wandered back to his own office. It was locked and dark, and upon opening it, he could swear that there was still a big black cloud hanging in it leftover from his and Cameron's argument the day before. Once again, he didn't bother with the lights, but walked into the adjoining conference room and began the process of making coffee. He was feeling surprisingly chipper for someone who had been up all the previous night. His ride into work had energized him mentally. Once again, he had set his mind on automatic and let his body do the driving, while he reflected on simple things, like the coolness of the morning air against his body, and the mist that was rising, and the way the rising sun was reflected in the puddles leftover from the rain. He had still been slightly inebriated, which explained a lot, seeing as how House usually did not take notice of nature, beauty and the like.

The coffee stopped percolating, and he poured himself a cup, eagerly anticipating the slight rush the caffeine would give him. His leg throbbed slightly, reminding him to take his meds, which he did, washing his vicodin down with a bit of coffee. His head began to clear immediately, and he set about the task at hand, the task of discovering what he'd done wrong with Eddie.

House didn't feel like being in his own office, so he broke out his files and charts and books on the conference room table, spreading them before him as thought they were maps that would eventually lead him to some treasure, or rather the answer to Eddie's case. He was still feeling angry with Cameron, although he didn't know why. He had, in fact, anticipated being over it yesterday. But now, just thinking about it irritated him, the way she had tried so hard to prove him wrong and try to change him. It wasn't her business at all how he reacted to something like a patient death, and whether he chose to completely forget about it, or go into mourning over it, was his choice. House didn't intend to do either of those things. He did, however, intend to re-examine every step of Eddie's treatments in order to discover what he had done wrong.

He had been so engrossed in his studying that almost forty five minutes passed without him noticing. Through the blinds, he heard his office door open, and assumed it was Wilson.

"What the hell took you so long?" he shouted, looking at his watch.

Chase walked in, looking slightly bemused, in addition to slightly amused. "Well, the shower water took a little longer than usual to warm up this morning, but I'm actually a little early today by my watch…" he tried to answer, but House glared at him and he shut up.

"Funny." He turned his attention back to the charts. "I don't guess you brought Wilson with you, did you?" he asked sarcastically.

Chase arched one perfectly shaped blonde eyebrow and responded, still slightly confused. "Uh, no. Why?"

"That's for me to know. It grownup business, so you stay out of it." House went on, not even looking at Chase, who shrugged and walked over to the counter to pour his own coffee. He wandered over to the table, standing silently behind House and looking over his shoulder at the charts on the table.

"Eddie's file? What are you looking for in there?"

House whirled around, annoyed. "I'm pretty sure I told you this was grownup business, didn't I?"

Chase's expression turned to one of slight surprise. "You need Wilson here for this? We ruled out all forms of cancer, and the"

"No, I'm not thinking cancer; I just want a doctor whose at least halfway smart to look over these." House pointed out rudely to Chase. "Now you just run along and go play with your needles and knives, and leave me alone to wait for daddy to show up. Don't worry, no matter what happens we'll always love you. None of this is your fault."

Chase studied him for a moment, wondering what had brought on this rare, unclassifiable mood. House didn't seem angry or any longer irritated, just eager for Wilson to show up for some reason or another. "What, did you take a few too many vicodin this morning? What could you possibly need Wilson for on this case? Why are you even still wasting time on it? Just wait for the autopsy results. That ought to tell us what went on."

House chose to ignore all of this, and after only a minute or so more, Chase just shrugged again and walked out. In the hallway, Wilson was just getting off the elevator. He looked a little disheveled and pissed off. Chase nodded to him. "Good morning. I wouldn't go in there if I were you."

"Why's that?"

"I think he wants to talk about Eddie. Waste of time if you ask me. Not that you wouldn't be helpful." he added. "It's just pointless to try and figure that mess out. We made so many mistakes with diagnosing him and guessing at treatments that it just seems wasteful. I say just wait on the autopsy."

Wishing more than ever that he hadn't picked up the phone forty five minutes ago, he gave Chase a slight smile and nodded. It was one of the very few opinions he had ever witnessed Chase having, so even if his presence wasn't really necessary to House, it hadn't been a complete waste of his time. "Thanks. But I have a feeling that this isn't completely about Eddie." At Chase's puzzled look, he added, "Ask Cameron."

"Oh." Wilson left him there at the elevator and walked down the hall. He doubted Chase would ask Cameron. Wilson had often observed him trying hard as possible not to get too involved with House and his hospital drama.

Seeing that the lights were off in the office, he walked in the conference room door instead to be greeted by an angry House. He stood immediately when Wilson walked in, going around to the other side of the table to glare directly at him. "What the hell took you so long? I talked to you almost an hour ago. You live fifteen minutes away."

Wilson didn't grace this rudeness with an answer. "Yes, good morning to you, too. My drive in was pleasant, not much traffic. But I guess that's because it's way too early for work. House, it's," glancing at the clock, "it's seven thirty. You know that I never get here before eight thirty. This had better be important." He walked over to get coffee, then turned to face House again. He was puzzled at the man's appearance; he had the usual circles under his eyes, but this morning they were accompanied by a tinge of red in his eyes, a gaunt look to his face, and more stubble than normal. But there was a kind of light burning behind his eyes, and Wilson knew that he was very anxious about something. "What's going on?" He asked, letting his annoyance at House be overcome by curiosity.

House walked back to the table, picking up one of Eddie's chest x-rays. "This." He shoved the film in Wilson's face, waiting for Wilson to see what he did. Skeptical, Wilson took the x-ray from House and held it up to the light, searching for whatever invisible incongruity that the other man was seeing. "Who is this?"

"Eddie."

Wilson took his eyes away from the x-ray for a moment to give House a look. "You mean your homeless guy? I thought he died yesterday. Why are you still looking at his stuff?"

"Curiosity." House lied.

Wilson looked back at the film, squinting, wondering what he was looking for. "I give up. What am I supposed to be seeing here?"

House gave him an incredulous look and threw his finger to a point on the right lung. "That." Wilson held the x-ray closer to his face, then shook his head. "Nope, I'm not seeing anything."

House gave an exasperated sigh. "Do you not see the nodule on the lobe of the lung?" He kept pointing, and Wilson looked back, closer, then almost laughed in House's face. He took the x-ray from him and rubbed at it for a second with his shirt sleeve. Holding it back up, he gave House a triumphant look. "Congratulations. You've diagnosed an x-ray tech's greasy fingers. Unless it's your fingerprint, which would be significantly more amusing to me."

House said nothing, but looked at the nodule that Wilson had magically caused to disappear. Cursing, he took the film back and tossed it on the table before dropping heavily into one of the seats. "Damn."

Wilson tried to look, sympathetic, joining him at the table, but he couldn't quite manage it. House glared at him. "Definitely not funny Wilson."

"I know. But do you know what else isn't funny? Waking me up an hour early to consult on a patient that's already dead. Emergencies are fine, but this? Don't do it again, or you'll end up like the boy who cried wolf."

House looked at Wilson, half amused and half pissed. "Are you seriously trying to teach me a lesson using a fable? The boy who cried wolf?"

Wilson smiled. "Well, you could definitely benefit from the advice in those stories." A look of mock disgust came over House's face. "Advice? You mean all that moral crap they're supposed to teach about? No thanks. I'll stick to counting on shows like The O.C. to teach me morals."

"I bet that'll be successful." Wilson offered sarcastically, rolling his eyes. They fell into silence, each sipping on their coffee and enjoying the chance for just sitting around before they had to get to the business of being doctors.

Curious, and recalling Cameron's comments about House the previous evening, Wilson asked him, "Why are you still spending time on Eddie's case? The autopsy results should be in in a day or two. Can't you wait?"

"No." House answered tensely, and Wilson could already tell that Cameron had been right about something.

"Okay." He stood and stretched, downing the rest of his coffee and putting the mug in the sink for someone else to wash. It wasn't his place to understand House's impatience. So far, he hadn't displayed any concerning emotions, so Wilson wasn't feeling obliged to talk with him about what Cameron had said at the moment. He opened the door. "If you want any more fingerprint consults, give me a yell. I'll keep my pager on, just in case."

House scowled at him, and probably said something obscene and rude, but Wilson had already let the door shut, and he didn't hear it. House sat alone at the table, back where e had started and completely frustrated. When he had noticed the smudge on the x-ray, he had jumped at it, so eager for it to be a lead that he hadn't noticed. He should have known. None of Eddie's symptoms pointed to anything near cancer, and Foreman had already confirmed that the films were all clear. House sighed and leaned the chair back, closing his eyes for a moment. He wondered if his judgment was off because of his lack of sleep. It wasn't as though he had never stayed up all night before; he did it all the time. Shaking his head and opening his eyes, he returned his attention back to Eddie's file, letting his mind become completely absorbed in it. Nine o'clock rolled around and the clinic opened, sans Dr. House. Whether that was because he was just too busy or he didn't want to be there was unknown.

TBC

So I hope no one noticed the way Wilson "didn't feel obliged to talk with House about what Cameron had pointed out". I seriously doubt that Jimmy felt that way, however, the author didn't "feel obliged to go into it" because she was getting lazy and tired, and rather than just finish this tomorrow, she really, really wanted to update her story. That conversation could have taken a whole half hour to write, and that's just too damn long. What the hell is Wilson going to say anyway? Who knows. Anyway, thanks for reading. Once again, suggestions are always welcome, and the jello is on me again. Oh, and I gotta give props to Al Green for his Love and Happiness…it makes sitting up 'til 3:30am in the stairwell all worth while. I'm gonna dance my way back down to my floor now. Thanks again. R & R.

-A. D.