My deepest apologies to those who have read the story so far and find it failing in their expectations. I took a break and looked back at the story itself and, with the help of a few people's opinions, I decided on an outline for the story to follow and everything will pick up. I am not sure how many chapters are left. I'm getting a little frustrated with this story, but that only makes me want to work harder on it. So, I am sorry for my lack of quality lately and I hope everyone continues until the end. Thank you very much.


Breaking Point

The medical team sat at the table in House's office, no one talking. Foreman had his arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair, looking at the ceiling. Chase rubbed his chin with his thumb, dark circles under his eyes; he had not slept in days. Cameron was bent over the table, her face hidden in her hands, hair falling over her shoulders to rest on the tabletop. They were waiting for Wilson to come back.

The patient's condition was getting worse and there was nothing else to do. The three doctors had no permission to even start the patient on painkiller, much less any medication to stop the man from dying. The past week had been hell; House had broken the rules and worked on the case behind Cuddy's back, convinced he was right on what Mr. Deleyney had. Unfortunately for all of them, House had been wrong, for once in his life he had been wrong, and the patient was dying. Mr. Deleyney had a stroke because of the medication and had numerous blood clots throughout his body, any one of them ready to break free and reach his heart, lungs, or brain.

Cuddy, once she had found out about the accident, had burst into House's office, demanding to know where the man was, livid with fury. The three doctors had been confused, all of them wondering what had happened. When it was explained that House had been in the hospital before his regular shift and had slipped the patient the drugs that had harmed Mr. Deleyney so badly, they were shocked. Not at House's behavior, but at the fact House had been wrong. Cuddy had ordered Wilson to come with her and it didn't look good for the head of the case; his patient was dying and it wasn't his fault.

They couldn't find House.

"I told him only what he wanted to know," shouted Wilson, walking into the office, Cuddy on his heels, brandishing the file at her. "I knew it was Graves Disease, but he wouldn't listen. The tests all pointed to-"

"Who told you that you had permission to talk with House about the case? As it is, I took him off the case for recklessness!"

"I thought you took him off the case to get him away from Cameron!"

Wilson and Cuddy, in the middle of their screaming match, noticed the movement from the table as Foreman stood, and they stopped yelling.

"All of you, leave," Wilson ordered, unusually serious and intense. "Right now!"

"No, stay," snapped Cuddy as Chase rose from his chair to stand beside Foreman. "I think they have a right to know why they are all being sued!"

"We're being sued?" asked Chase, surprised, as Foreman dropped his jaw.

"Well, duh, if a rich, racist patient dies, his family is naturally going to sue every doctor who walked into the room."

House appeared in the doorway. Wilson and Cuddy, standing in the middle of the room, both of them holding files belonging to the case, set their jaw and narrowed their eyes.

"House, how dare you! I told you about the case because I trusted you!" shouted Wilson, frantic. "How could you have done that, giving the patient drugs without even consulting me?"

"You?" shouted Cuddy, "He should have reported to me! I made a mistake when I put you in charge of this case! House might be an evil bastard, but at least he told one of his zombies what he was planning and they would come running to me!"

Foreman and Chase jumped into the fray, Chase's voice deadly quiet as he spoke to Cuddy.

"We are not zombies," he said, "We are doctors and right now, we can't even do our job. Every second we are here, arguing like high school students, we can't treat Mr. Deleyney for his illness, and every second he is not getting what he needs to survive, he slips closer and closer to death!"

"Oh, bravo, Chase," snapped House, snapping his fingers. "I'm amazed how long that took for a mind like his!"

"I've had enough of that, House!" Chase warned, taking a step toward his boss.

"Had enough of what? What are you going to do, hit me?"

Chase, with one more step, punched House in the face. There was a crack as House went reeling backward into the wall, his nose streaming blood. He slid down the wall as Wilson and Foreman grabbed Chase by his elbows, holding him back. That was not needed because Chase, his hand covered in House's blood, stood still, holding his breath. What did he just do?

"Call security," Cuddy snapped, "Get Chase out of here." Foreman nodded as he held Chase's arm as Wilson picked up the phone and paged the guards, who arrived within a minute. The two guards took Chase out of the room and, seeing what he had done to House, zip-tied his hands together in front of him. There was no fight left in Chase, however, and it wasn't needed; he went quietly with the guards, head held low.

"You," Cuddy yelled at Wilson, "What does Mr. Deleyney have?"

"Graves Disease," snapped Wilson, grabbing his file from the desk. "He has a case of hyperthyroidism and has blood clots because of it. There is an excess of thyroxine-"

"Don't rattle off whatever you wrote in the file! Just start the patient on radioactive iodine."

Wilson, casting a glance of hatred at both House and Cuddy, stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him. Foreman was kneeling by House, who was trying to stop the bleeding from his nose with his shirt. House was shaking his head no, mumbling something about Wilson being incorrect. They couldn't hear what he was saying, though, for the shirt covered his mouth and was already dripping with blood. House's nose could have been broken, that was the severity of the punch, but House was trying to stand up, finding it difficult to stand without his cane and his sleeve over his nose. Cuddy walked up to him and Foreman stood, getting out of the way, retreating back to the table, leaving the two doctors alone on the other side of the room. Cuddy's gaze was fire and when she spoke, it was so soft everyone in the room had to strain to make out what she had said. She towered over House, who was still on the floor against the wall, abandoning the idea of trying to stand.

"If the patient dies, your license will be revoked to practice medicine. Even if the patient doesn't die, you are fired from this hospital and I will let every hospital you apply to know what you did. Because of your arrogance, you are killing a man whose family could cost me the hospital. I don't know how Stacy is going to save your ass from ending up in the poor house, but that is only if I decide to let her give you legal advice if the family sues. If they sue, I want you to tell Chase, Wilson, Foreman, and Cameron why they owe money, more than any one of them can afford, for the negligence of Mr. Deleyney's illness."

House tried to speak, but Cuddy's voice grew louder so there was no doubt to what it was she said.

"I don't care what you thought he had. I don't care what you think we should do. If Wilson says he has Graves Disease, then Mr. Deleyney has Graves Disease. If there is extra thyroxine in his blood, nothing you say will change that fact. I hope you enjoy your last day in the hospital, House. Now go and clean up before you bleed all over the floor."

Cuddy threw the other two doctors a glance of anger before leaving. She stopped in the door and looked at Cameron, who had never moved during this entire ordeal. Her hair still fell over the table and her face was hidden, her wrists stark white under the lights of the room. Stark white, both of them, and Cuddy frowned. A bruise wouldn't go away within a matter of a week, not the sort of bruise Cameron had showed to her in the office just a few days ago. But, there was no bruise, not a trace of one.

"Cameron," Cuddy said, voice strained. "Why is there no bruise?"

Cameron didn't look up and her shoulders started to shake with silent sobs. Cuddy, disgusted with Cameron almost as much as she had been with House, snarled and walked out the door, leaving blood, anger, and tears in her wake.


This will all start to make sense soon. I can't tell you what is going on yet in this author note because that would ruin the next few chapters, but there are lies and betrayals going around that is going to cost everyone something dear to them. These situations might not seem real; why would doctors stand around and fight, verbally and physically, when there are patients who are dying? But, it doesn't have to seem real, does it? I could see this happening because it's so extreme, and I am taking the characters and heightening everything they stand for and what they do in this story.

Thank you for reading and I hope to hear from you. Please, no flames. I never thought I would have to worry about getting reviews that say this is awful, but I am starting to think that not many people will like me when this story is over. This is a dramatic story and I enjoy working on it, but it makes me very upset to hear someone say something awful that isn't a critique. I don't mind if you have something to say that is constructive and slightly coarse, but just don't flat out say you hate it and offer nothing else. (I say this humbly). Thank you again for reading and I will update later.