Catherine woke up at 2:45. She had 45 minutes until Lindsey came home from school. She brewed herself some coffee and wondered what she was going to do. It had been a week and Grissom still hadn't come out of his coma. The doctors didn't seem to know what was wrong with him and none of the consults that she'd heard about had seemed to find out anything new either. She got to hear a lot more than she would have had it been anyone else in the lab. Since his mother was deaf and he didn't have any other family nor a significant other, he had designated her his medical proxy so that if something like this ever happened—though he probably expected it to result from an attack by a suspect—there would be someone who could make decisions regarding his healthcare.

Catherine was in her bedroom deciding what to wear tonight when her cel rang. She picked it up and looked at the Caller ID, her mind subconsciously registering that she'd done the same action a week ago when Grissom collapsed. This time, the display said simply 'Heather.' Catherine opened the phone and put it to her ear. "Hello?"

"Catherine I have some potential news that might get Grissom healthy again."

"Let's hear it."

"A friend of mine who lives out in Princeton, New Jersey suggested consulting a doctor out there."

"No offense to your friend, but what value would this doctor have? None of the doctors here can come up with what's wrong with him."

"The doctors here aren't Dr. House."

"Wait a second. Dr. House? The famous diagnostician?"

"That's the one. My friend had another friend who complained of grinding of the teeth and ended up in a coma after having a couple of strokes. Dr. House realized that it was a jaw infection under the plate the patient had to repair it after it was broken. The problem is that making such a decision, not to mention the trip out there, would be a decision for Grissom's medical proxy. I don't know who that is."

"You're talking to her."

"Why you?"

"We've been friends ever since I was 22, nearly twenty years."

"Wow, I didn't know you'd known each other that long."

"And, even with all that, you still found out about his hearing loss before I did."

"I noticed the telltale signs. He wouldn't let me walk behind him or walk far away and continue to talk to him. It was an easy determination to make."

Catherine laughed, "Of course."

"The only other obstacle I can see is taking Grissom out to Princeton."

"Why would we do that? Why wouldn't we bring Dr. House here to Vegas?"

"Have you heard about Dr. House's reported bedside manner? He's like a pissed-off wolverine with the sensibilities of a brick wall. The fact that we'll be going through the trouble of bringing Grissom to him to get his expert opinion might stroke his ego enough that he'd be willing to take the case."

"Did you just say 'we,' Heather?"

"Yes, I'll be going with whoever is nominated to take Grissom to Princeton. The problem I was talking about is that he's comatose. No airline is going to agree to put him on a flight out."

"I think I can do something about that, Heather. I'll call you as soon as I know what's going on." Catherine heard the front door slam and heard her daughter yell out that she was home. "Heather, I've got to go, my daughter just came home from school."

"Of course. I'll talk to you later." With that, Heather hung up the phone. Catherine did likewise, both women sporting a relieved smile that Grissom might actually be getting some help.