A/N: I posted a new chapter 10 yesterday, and reposted 11 through 14 with some, mostly minor, revisions. The only actual plot difference is that Cuddy has decided to set up a visit by the mobile radiology van in case House winds up needing a PICC line. There is also more clarification in 11 thru 14 now of the medical terms and procedures. If you haven't read the new chapter 10, or the revisions to 11 thru 14, I'd suggest it, but it's not absolutely necessary. Thanks to all for your patience and support; I think we're back in business now! mjf
CHAPTER FIFTEEN: Trouble
When Wilson enters the bedroom, House is just waking up. "Wilson? What're you doing here? Cuddy send you? I must be late for work again, huh? Really late, if she sent you in person."
"That's real funny, House. I'd almost think that you're starting to miss the place already."
"Whaddaya mean? Sorry she sent you all the way over here; next time, call first, save the trip. Now that you're here, though, mind giving me a ride in?"
Wilson plays along; House's creating an elaborate joke is the best sign of recovery he's seen yet. "Sure, ride in is almost a necessity; IV lines and motorcycles probably wouldn't mix real well. But hey, it'll probably get you out of clinic duty; might make the patients a little nervous if the doc looks sicker than they do!"
House sits up, looks at the IV line in his arm, and Wilson sees the puzzlement in his expression. But it only lasts for a second; the confusion is replaced by appreciative amusement as his hand goes to the IV site. "Thought we were even, in the practical joke department, when you killed my cane! Guess I was wrong; this is good." And before Wilson even realizes what's happening, House has roughly yanked out the IV, and is looking, thunderstruck, at the blood escaping from the ragged wound. "What? You really put it in? That's not funny."
Some part of Wilson's brain is telling him that this never was a joke; House is disoriented and badly in need of assistance, but Wilson's body is frozen as he stares in horror at the unfolding scene.
House tries, ineffectively, to staunch the flow of blood with a hand that's shaking. "What the hell?" he says, and looks up at Wilson with such a naked plea in his eyes that Wilson's feet automatically start propelling him to House's side. Medical training tells him he can't allow his panic to show, and his own instinct enables him to keep his voice and expression calm.
"You're sick, buddy; the IV's for real. It's all right; you just woke up, you're a little confused, that's all." As he's speaking, he tears open a package of sterile gauze, takes House's arm slowly, gently, and places the gauze firmly over the wound, applying pressure with his hand.
House looks as if he might try to bolt from the bed; his confusion is rapidly increasing to full-fledged panic, so Wilson unobtrusively wraps his hand around the other arm and tightens his grip gradually. "Listen, okay? I'll explain it. Do you remember what happened Friday afternoon? It's all right if you don't, just trying to figure out where you got lost." He's seen House in all stages of illness, but Wilson has never seen him look this unabashedly frightened.
"I… I… it was something with my leg. You helped me. And Cuddy did, too." House looks to Wilson for confirmation, and Wilson nods encouragingly. "You gave me morphine." Wilson can tell that it's starting to come back to House now, but he maintains his grip as House continues. "But we came home; you're staying with me now. If we're home, why..." House looks around the bed at the equipment, "…all this?"
"You came out of it weaker than we'd thought you would. You've… had a little setback. You're not taking nutrition yet, and we think your electrolytes might be messed up. I drew blood this morning, for the 'lytes. Remember that?" He may be back with the program, but he looks bad, really bad. We need those lab results; we need a treatment plan. Now.
House looks at the bandage on his right arm that Wilson had placed there after this morning's draw. "Yeah… and then I fell asleep. You and Cuddy were gonna try to figure out what to do next. You told me it was gonna be awhile before I could go back to work." House's voice is more confident now, his expression less lost. "And you and Cuddy said… you both said… you'd be with me as long as it takes." There's a quick flash of gratitude in House's eyes as he remembers the end of this morning's conversation, and the not-so-bad feeling he'd had of being cared for.
Wilson feels safe releasing House's arms now. He tapes the pressure bandage over the IV site while he affirms House's recollections. "Yup, that's right. We've gotta get the IV restarted, but I'm gonna get you some orange juice first, and I need you to drink it, even if it doesn't stay down very long. I think your potassium's low; that's why you were confused. You be okay while I get the juice?" Wilson needs to call Cuddy; he'd much prefer to do it out of House's hearing. And if he can get some orange juice into him, for even a few minutes, it can only help with the strongly suspected potassium deficit. But if House doesn't want him to leave the room, it's more important that he stays; it's that simple. He knows that House will say it's fine, so he watches House's eyes.
"Not a problem; patient's oriented again," House says dryly, and his eyes show only rueful humor.
"Back in a minute, then."
As soon as Wilson reaches the kitchen, he places the call to Cuddy. She's only just arrived at the hospital, but when Wilson describes House's episode of disorientation she says, "I'll run the labs now, myself, and get right back to you. How's he doing now?"
"Well, he's calm. Looks about like you'd expect after something like that, a little shaken, I guess. I need to get the IV restarted and do a full assessment; I'll know more then. Gonna go try and get some orange juice into him right now; probably won't stay down, but at least it'll give me the illusion that I'm doing something medically productive for him. And then, I'll just try to keep things on an even keel until I hear from you."
"Hang in there," Cuddy says. "I'll call you as soon as I know anything."
Wilson hangs up the phone and pours the juice. As he heads back into House's room, he finds himself wishing that he hadn't promised not to hospitalize him. But he's made the commitment, and he's going to do everything in his power to keep it. Whatever it takes….