CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: Truth, and Consequences

When Cuddy enters the living room, House appears to be dozing. She sets the EKG monitor down and approaches the couch quietly. "House?" she says gently, careful not to startle him. When he doesn't respond, she tries it a little louder. Then Wilson comes in, carrying the box of pharmacy supplies she'd left by the door. He removes one of the potassium-spiked bags of fluid from the box, and at Cuddy's nod, exchanges the normal saline for the new bag. "Have you been having any trouble waking him?" Cuddy asks.

"No; as a matter of fact, I'd have to say he's been sleeping pretty lightly." Wilson calls his name; no response. He puts his hand on House's shoulder and tries again. This time, House's eyes open wide and he sits up quickly.

"Wha—" House looks from Wilson to Cuddy; when they see the expression in his eyes, they realize immediately that they need to orient him quickly if they don't want a repeat of this morning's incident.

"It's okay," Cuddy smiles. "You're at home, House, on your couch. Your potassium's low, but we're already fixing that; you'll feel much better in just a few hours." She sits on the edge of the couch next to him, blocking any effort he might make to rise.

Wilson is already at the end of the couch, ready to place his hands securely on House's shoulders, if necessary. "We need to get you set up for an EKG, okay?" When House turns to look up at him, Wilson says quietly, almost like a secret, "It's all right," and then he smiles. And House visibly relaxes.

Cuddy smiles too. The bond between these two men never fails to amaze her, how each can calm—or anger—the other, with just a few words. "Okay now?" she asks. "You know what's going on?"

House nods. "It's a 'lyte imbalance; you're correcting it. And you need to get an EKG to check for arrhythmias. I'm fine; you can both stop looking at me like you might have to get out the tranquilizer gun." He sounds irritable, and quite rational.

Wilson and Cuddy smile at each other. Cuddy stands and starts to prepare the leads for the EKG. She asks Wilson, "Would you mind getting the cardiorespiratory monitor out of the trunk?" She moves away from House and signals for Wilson to join her. "Also get the red box. Code supplies; didn't wanna take any chances," she says in an undertone. When Wilson leaves, she moves back to House to begin applying the leads to his chest.

When Wilson returns from the car, he sees Cuddy glaring at House in mock anger; House looks like a not-very-sorry ten year old, caught with his hand in the… uh… cookie jar. Wilson laughs; the familiar scene is the most hopeful thing that's happened around here since their return from the hospital. He notes that Cuddy has turned the EKG machine away from House so that he won't be able to see the display. Wilson knows immediately that that is just not gonna fly.

"Dr. Cuddy," he says humorously, "May I respectfully point out that House was the one to diagnose his own impending code following his surgery?" As he speaks, he's turning the display screen so that House can view it from his position on the couch. He's rewarded by a grateful look from the patient.

"Yeah, I was gonna remind her of that," House says, "But I got distracted by a couple of things." House trains his eyes lasciviously on Cuddy's chest. For a moment, everything feels normal again for all three of them.

Wilson hates to break the spell of normalcy, but someone has to take charge here. "We ready to get started?" He sees the same look in House's eyes that he'd seen when they'd done the MRI on the right leg, and he knows that House has grasped the potential seriousness of his current situation. And this time, Wilson doesn't know how to make it better. At House's terse nod, he starts the machine, and three pairs of professional eyes are trained intently on the screen.

Wilson sees what's happening first, and decides Cuddy had the right idea when she'd hidden the display. He steps in front of the table, blocking House's view. "Look, this is not gonna be accurate if you don't relax, House. Your heart rate's climbing; just lie back like a good boy and let's get this over with. I promise, I'll give you the readout soon as it's done. Just close your eyes and relax for a few minutes."

To Wilson's surprise, House does as directed, without argument. Wilson and Cuddy exchange worried glances, then return their attention to the monitor. And now, their worry has a focus.

Cuddy puts a warning finger to her lips, indicating House's still-closed eyes with a tilt of her head. She's hoping he'll fall asleep so that she and Wilson can discuss the results of the EKG before they have to show it to House. It's clear that House is going to need continuous monitoring until the T wave abnormalities resolve. If that were the only problem, it might not be so bad, but she's also seeing a prominent U wave, and this combination makes Cuddy want to transport the man to ICU right now. She calms herself by remembering that these arrhythmias are being treated. And she reminds herself that a commitment's been made to House. Unless his life is acutely in danger, she'll do everything in her power to honor it. She owes him that.

Cuddy gets her wish; House is either sleeping or not wanting to deal with what his EKG might show—his eyes remain closed as Wilson, with something approaching panic in his own eyes, tears the strip off the machine and motions her into the kitchen.

Wilson is pale as he looks once more at the strip. Then he reaches for the phone and says to Cuddy, "We need an ambulance and a bed in the unit." He's surprised when Cuddy takes the phone from him, and hangs it up.

"We're not going to do it that way," she tells him firmly. "We're treating the problem; he isn't in immediate danger."

"The danger might not be immediate, but it's undeniable! He's at risk for torsades de pointes; a potentially fatal ventricular tachycardia isn't intended to be treated in the home setting!" Wilson argues; he's clearly angry—and scared. "And it's probable that we'd be in the hospital for only a few hours; correcting the potassium deficit will resolve the problem, and we could be back home by late evening."

"That's my point," she says. "We're going to risk his trust again, just because he needs to be watched closely for eight or ten hours? No." Her expression is resolute. "You've just been demoted, Wilson. For the next ten hours, you're the best friend—and that's all you are. I'm the physician."

Wilson sinks into a chair. "I don't think this is the best idea…."

"We've got all the code drugs," Cuddy reminds him. "And the monitors. You don't think he's just as safe under my supervision as he would be in the unit?"

"Of course I do. And his trust is just as important to me. But…."

"All you have to do is be his friend. That's all you're allowed to be. Keep him calm, show him you're confident. Leave the doctoring to me." Cuddy tries to convey to Wilson the same confidence she hopes he'll be able to impart to House over the next several hours.

Finally, Wilson nods. "Guess this is what you meant when you said no backing out when it gets too tough, huh?" He gives her a wan smile.

"Just do your job, and let me do mine. We'll get through this." She gives his arm a squeeze. "Let's go talk to my patient."