Floating

Chapter 4

"I'm going to let you get some rest." Cuddy's eyes were still full of emotion. So it had worked. Well, probably it had worked. Taking 20 pain-free steps was hardly a conclusive clinical trial. He was probably still feeling the effects of the ketamine; maybe even residual effects of the morphine he had been on for the gunshot injuries.

House nodded slightly, not speaking. He did not meet her eyes as he got himself back into bed. No quips about tucking him in or a bedtime story. His expression told her much more than any banter could accomplish. She didn't quite want to leave, but knew she needed to. He needed some private time, and some sleep. She felt suddenly guilty for waking him up in the middle of the night. "G'night, House." Another tight nod. She might have taken it for a curt dismissal, but she knew better.

House was alone. Restless, he pondered the wisdom of trying another walk, this time unaided. His hand went instinctively to his right thigh. It was strange, feeling the terrible scar, its topography, without the usual accompanying pain. He massaged it reflexively. House heard the door open. He covered himself, closing his eyes. If the nurse thought he was asleep, maybe she'd leave him alone without performing yet another neurological check.

"Greg, we came as soon as we heard. We were in New Zealand." House's eyes flew open at the familiar voice.

"We know it's late, dear, but we just now arrived." He looked from one to the other. His mother, now standing at the rights side of his bed; his father's craggy face in the background, as he stood still near the door.

"So you got shot. Best thing that could've happened to you. Probably change your whole life. Make you appreciate what you have a little more. Toughen you up a little."

"John, please. Stop harassing him." Her light laugh making her voice almost musical. "Are you alright, Greg?

"They gave me something. Something that might help with my leg." The words were directed to his mother alone. "It's experimental, but…"

"Oh Greg, dear. That's wonderful!" She was weeping. Sitting on the bed, she stroked his forehead. He closed his eyes, leaning into her touch.

"Yeah, I know all about it. The Ketamine. Veterinary tranquilizers. Also known as Special K. Leave it to you to find a drug like that to help your leg."

"It has therapeutic uses…"

"Yeah. Fine. So? Show us. Show us how you can walk now."

"I really can't without…"

"Bullshit. Sit the Hell up. Swing your legs over the side and walk. We flew halfway around the world to see this."

"I thought you came because I was shot. How could you know…? Something was not making sense to him. He attributed it to fatigue and the mild disorientation he'd been feeling since waking from the treatment.

"I'm really not supposed to get up without assistance yet. My boss was just here. We walked a few steps." He sounded more defensive than he meant. "Tomorrow we can…"

"You always were a wuss."

"John! Your father didn't mean it, Greg. We'll come back tomorrow."

"No. Fine. You want a show? Maybe we should get a tent and some Billy Bob preacher to MC." Adrenaline surged through House's veins. He swung his legs around and stood in a quick motion. Without thinking, he took three large strides. "See! Gregory House is healed."

The lights came on suddenly in the room. "Oh my God. Dr. House! Are you OK?" The nurse called out into the hall. "I need some help in here." House was on the floor halfway across the room.

House reoriented himself from his vantage on the floor, making no attempt to move with three hospital staff surrounding him. He frantically peered around the room. "My parents. Where...? They were…" but his parents were clearly nowhere within the confines of House's hospital room.

"He must've torn his stitches." Blood covered the front of House's hospital gown. "We need to get…" were the last words he heard before losing consciousness.

House blinked hard as the room came back into focus. He was back in bed, soft restraints again limiting his movement.

He became aware of hushed voices in another part of the room. "Mom? Dad? You still here?" The room was brighter and the last thing House wanted was for his parents to see him restrained in his hospital bed.

"It's not your fault, Cuddy." Wilson's voice.

"I should have reattached the restraints."

"He'll be fine. Leave it to House to fall out of bed."

"Excuse me! Patient here in the room. Would you mind not whispering so loud? Or, better yet, stop talking about me entirely unless you do it loud enough for me to have fun too."

"Welcome back. Again." Wilson flicked a pen light into House's eyes. "We don't know if you hit your head when you fell."

"No, I don't think so. Did you send mom and dad off to the cafeteria for some coffee? How long have I been out?"

"Couple of hours."

"That would make it around…what? Eight a.m.? It is Tuesday. I am in Princeton Plainsboro Hospital recovering from… That good enough? Or did they flee?"

"What are you talking about? Flee? Who? The little green men who pushed you out of bed? House, c'mon be serious."

"No. My parents. You know, John House? Grumpy looking gray-haired dude, military bearing, ne'er a good word for anyone. That guy? Blythe. Not as grumpy, nor as gray. Nor as military for that matter. Female. My mother!"

Wilson and Cuddy looked at each other, bewildered, but with the edges of concern creeping over both of them.

"What?"

They turned their backs on him. More whispers. "C'mon guys. Seriously. Where did they go? They were here. I did something stupid, like trying to walk to impress daddy, neglecting to take into account neither my blood pressure nor the weakness in my right quad. That's how I fell. So? Did they see enough? And, Cuddy, by the way, I never told you to hunt them down on their vacation and bring them back halfway across the globe."

"House, what are you talking about. I wouldn't know how to contact your parents if I wanted to. As far as them being here…"

"OK, so it was Wilson. You'd know. You'd probably hack into my laptop to find his cell phone number." Wilson shook his head.

"The unit nurse reported hearing noise. 'shouting,' says here in her notes. She came in here to find out if you were OK and saw you on the floor bleeding. Halfway across the room. What? Were you trying to make it to the bathroom without assistance. Even you would know better than that."

"No. My. Parents. Were standing right here. Where you are. I took his bait. It was stupid. He demanded I show him how well I could walk now. It was a personal challenge. I should never have let him get to me—again. But I did. It was stupid." He was trying to gesture with his hands, unable to because of the restraints. "Now can you please untie me?"

Cuddy motioned Wilson from the room. He shrugged his shoulders and left, sighing. Cuddy approached House, sitting on the edge of his bed. Her voice was low.

"What happened after I left you last night? What do you recall. Take your time, but tell me in detail, so we can figure out…"

"You left. I was restless. Couldn't fall back asleep. I guess I was considering the implications of my little stroll last night. If the Ketamine worked, I guess it's going to have a pretty sizable impact. Lots to think about. I think I drifted off a little, but then my parents came into the room."

"In the middle of the night?"

"Said something about being in New Zealand. Just landing. Sounded weird, but that's just them. You know my dad. Or you should from your last encounter with him. Loves to push buttons. He pushed, I, feeling the rush of whatever I was feeling the rush of, accommodated. I took three giant steps and fell on my ass. Nurse came in. Don't know where my parents got off to…"

"House." She caught his eye, holding his gaze. "Listen to me. You know that Ketamine can cause hallucinations…"

"No. They were here. As real as.." She cocked an eyebrow.

"You know how real an hallucination can be. It can even, in a weird way, make perfect sense. Your parents aren't here. I believe that you believed they were here with you. You tried walking…for the reasons you said…and you fell."

House closed his eyes, absorbing the information. He recalled the hallucinations after just after he'd been shot. Moriarty. Balancing between living and dying.

"How do I know that you're real? How do I know that my parents being here wasn't real and that you're not an hallucination? How can I…?" House felt panic rising. Reason. Use your reason. If it doesn't make sense, it's not real. Push the hallucination. Just like with Moriarty. Just like…

"It doesn't make sense for my parents to have been here. Like you said, how would they even know…unless Wilson…And even he wouldn't do that to me. Right? Doesn't make sense. Can't be real. Right?" He was looking for affirmation.

"House. As long as you're having hallucinations and the vivid dreaming, I can't untie your restraints. I can't risk having you fall again and maybe really hurt yourself. OK?"

She waited for the comeback, not really expecting it. Not now, with House questioning his own sanity."

"OK." She noticed his hand was shaking. He noticed her noticing, quickly pulling the light blanket up to cover it.

"Give it time, OK? You didn't do too much damage with your stitches. Maybe later today we can try taking another walk. But no solo efforts. Get a little rest." She took his hand, squeezing it. He squeezed back, smiling sadly.

"Thanks, Cuddy."