CHAPTER 2: UNCERTAINTY
It had been a hard night for James Wilson. He'd tossed and turned in his sleep, the sound of his alarm clock sounding like a relief. Draining his morning cup of coffee, he checked his phone. No more calls from House. He briefly wondered what had prompted his friend to call him in the middle of the night. Most likely, he was just drunk and wanted a lift. Wilson tried to forget about it as he drove to the hospital. He checked his phone immediately after getting into his office. No calls from House. "Gotta give him a call myself", Wilson thought. He called, but House had turned his phone off. Wilson felt a huge pang of guilt hit him heavily. He quickly got out of his office and into the Diagnostics conference room.
All the members of House's team were gathered, Thirteen and Chase looking a bit dishevelled and Taub obviously had spent a sleepless night. Wilson asked them whether they'd received any calls from House as of last night. "Yes, but I didn't answer", Taub replied first, adding, "I figured out he was drunk and wanted a lift home". The rest of the team had a similar story to tell. "He isn't responding to my calls and has his phone turned off", Wilson informed them. "Something must have happened", he emphasized. "You try calling him, I will go to his place", he instructed them.
Just as he was preparing to exit the hospital, Cuddy entered through the main gate. She was looking troubled and her makeup wasn't as perfect as usual. Wilson stopped and asked her, "You okay?". "Not at all. One of my best doctors is missing, I had sleeping problems and my daughter's been watching a filthy cartoon and talking like a pirate", she answered. "You got a call from House last night?", the oncologist asked. "Yes, and didn't answer. I thought he was gonna whine about our breakup. Tried calling him tomorrow, no answer", the Dean of Medicine said. "Ummm, can we go to your office?", he suggested. "You are going to tell me I should go and sleep with House, to fix his problem?", she responded, obviously agitated. Instead of replying, Wilson simply followed her all the way to her office. "You don't have any patients to take care of?", she enquired, in an irritated voice. "Lisa, we must talk... we must talk about House", he insisted.
-"Fine, what are you gonna tell me about him?"
-"I am thinking of the worst, honestly".
-"He told you so? Maybe even he's hiding somewhere, waiting until I go back to him?"
-"I am not saying you should start again a relationship with him. I just..."
-"Just what?"
-"I don't see why you broke up with him".
-"Why you are all asking the same question? You, my mother, my sister... I broke up with House, get over it".
-"Because of a pill?"
-"Because he wasn't there! Because he's an addict! Because he always backslides and never changes!", she lashed out, grabbing her head with both of her hands.
-"No one requested you go back to him, just talk to him. You two should work it out".
-"I called him more than once, he is nowhere to be found".
-"That's why I suspect the worst".
-"House is not a suicidal person".
-"He swallows Vicodin like candy, Lisa! It's not hard to overdose. Do you forget all the stupid and over-the-top things he's done lately? His relapse, his reckless dive into the pool, that- I have trouble even saying the word- that sham marriage. He is unhappy and he's constantly upping the ante, because he can't find the courage to move on".
-"Are you gonna blame me or our breakup for this, as well? Go ahead, and since you are on this, blame me for crucifying Jesus!"
-"No, no, I am not implying anything like that. What I'm suggesting is..."
-"Then what are you doing here? Go to his home, call him, inform the police, do whatever you want".
-"That's what I planned to do all along".
-"When you find him, tell him I want to talk to him. You were right about this, at least".
-"Good. I will call you when I have any news".
With those words, the oncologist left the room. He drove his car all the way to his friend's home. Wilson stood at the apartment door, knocking loudly. "House? House, it's me, open the door!", he yelled. "House, it's not a joke, open that fucking door!". No answer. "House, if you don't open the door, I'm gonna break it down!". Still, no reply. Wilson's forehead was drenched in cold sweat, his heart pounding. He drew a deep breath, preparing to actually do what he'd announced he was going to do. But, before he could try his hand at breaking the door down, another apartment door opened.
"What's going on there? People are trying to get some rest!", a man complained. Wilson recognized him. It was Mr. Hastings, House's neighbour! "Moment, I think I know you. You're the guy visiting House every now and then", added Mr. Hastings. "Yes, Mr. Hastings, it's me, Dr. Wilson. I'm actually looking for Dr. House. He called me yesterday, at night, and today he can't be found", the oncologist clarified. "House isn't here. Yesterday I had a terrible toothache. It still hurts. I took a day off and I'm trying to get some sleep", Hastings replied. "I hope your tooth won't hurt anymore, Mr. Hastings. In case you need a dentist, we have plenty in the hospital. But, if I may ask, how do you know Dr. House isn't there?", Wilson asked politely. "Because I couldn't sleep, I was sitting on my couch, looking at the window. After midnight, I saw House being carried by a man and a woman into a vehicle, not far from here. He seemed to require their help to walk", the neighbor narrated. "Oh, I see. Thanks for explaining, Mr. Hastings. Sorry for interrupting your rest. Have a nice day", Wilson said and got back to his car, driving back to the hospital.
When he got out of the elevator, he caught sight of Foreman. "Did you find him?", the neurologist asked, adding, "We have a new case. The patient has very strange symptoms. Actually, it's a friend of Thirteen's. Her and Chase brought her here last night. House would like this case". "As if he's vanished into thin air, thin air", Wilson replied. "Still not responding to our calls, either", Foreman informed him. "Give me some minutes and the patient's file. We have to continue doing our job, no matter if House is here or not", the oncologist instructed, to which the other doctor nodded and handed him a file. Going back to his office, Wilson dialed the numbers of five hospitals, trying to find out where they'd taken House to. Nothing, damn it! He might have got admitted under an assumed name or in a hospital further away from Princeton. He sighed, wishing he'd answered the call last night. He left the file on his desk and headed again towards Cuddy's office. "We have to talk", he announced. "About what now? Did you find him?", she asked, not allowing any concern to show in her tone. "From what his neighbor said, two unknown people helped him into a vehicle last night. I think he got admitted into a hospital, maybe he overdosed, as I suspected. I phoned five hospitals, nothing. I am much worried. He is my friend, damn it!", he balled his fists and left the office, leaving Cuddy alone and dumbfounded. The Dean of Medicine returned to her paperwork, but had trouble concentrating. Damn House, she thought once more. Even when absent, he still had that weird and uncanny ability to drive her crazy. Why on Earth was everybody blaming her for House's troubles? Even her own mother had said that her standards were impossible to meet when she announced her breakup. Damn House, she thought again, returning to her paperwork with an audible exhalation.