How can I be expected keep up like this?

Doctors are supposed to avert all evil, heal the sick and wounded, and never show an ounce of shaken confidence. An accomplished physician should have the natural ability to bounce from crisis to crisis much like a superhero with daring resolve.

Why am I not allowed to curl up in the corner and cry? I'm so very tired. Tired of fighting; tired of life.

It's all in a days work. Terror and fear should roll off the crisis specialist like water on a duck's back. Nerves of steel must dominate when being constantly pelted with one life-threatening emergency after another.

I need time to reflect and recover from heartache. No one should have to see a beloved colleague go down like that.

A doctor must perform such heroics on little sleep since illness never rests. Life always depends on a physician's instinct for quick action, as there is still a world that must be saved.

Who's going to save us?

Cameron intensely pondered the unsettling argument going on in her head while she and Foreman silently waited in an unfamiliar conference room for Chase to arrive. It was likely the reaction of a tired mind, but nonetheless she couldn't turn off her thinking.

"You ever been in this room before?" asked Foreman, feeling a little uncomfortable with the new surroundings.

"No," replied Cameron. "It will do for now."

They both continued to stare quietly at the different set of walls and windows, wondering if they would notice anything unique about them. They didn't.

------------------

Chase wandered aimlessly through the hall somewhat certain that he knew where the conference room was. He was too tired to picture its exact location so he hoped by chance he would find it by walking around. Cuddy had arranged this new location since their room was still taped off. He was glad they were somewhere else since he wasn't ready to go back. The bloodstains in the carpet would aggravate the still fresh memories of the shooting.

He felt his eyes burning as he tried to read the office numbers. As soon as he was done with Cameron and Foreman he was going home. He had to be back very early to relieve Cuddy and his brain couldn't function anymore.

Eventually Chase found the room in the manner as predicted; by chance. As he entered, his body language provided full indication of how completely drained he was from the events of the past day. He sat down very slowly and planted his head down onto the table. "Please don't tell me anything that would make my brain explode," he said talking into the solid surface that supported him.

"How's House?" asked an anxious Cameron

"There are complications," replied Chase as he lifted his weary head up and covered his worn eyes with his hand. "He is having pain issues, which is causing some restlessness. Wilson is with him now, and Cuddy will be in later."

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Cameron said with pleading eyes.

"No, Cuddy needs you both to handle our patients."

"Come on, I could really help. I'm willing to do it in my off hours." Cameron was rather close to begging.

"You will have to take it up with Cuddy. I have no say in House's care." Chase knew it was best to divert the discussion to the task at hand. They needed to get through this. "How's Harpo?"

"I thought you didn't want any news that would make your head explode," replied Foreman.

"That bad, huh?" Chase replied.

"Blood and urine tests for infections were negative, his tongue is swollen worse and now he has some intercranial pressure. Can't do an LP."

Chase was afraid that complications would arise. He had really hoped that this one time House only took the case for pure amusement. "I have a little time. What say we try a differential diagnosis?"

Everyone agreed, as they needed to fall back into familiar patterns. They started firing off one idea after another so fast it was hard to tell who was suggesting and who was refuting. Bleeding disorder. Which one? Granulomatosis. We already gave him prednisone and his lungs are fine. Hemolytic Anemia? His spleen is fine. Worm infections? Those usually show up in the intestine, but it is possible. Lupus? This would be the strangest case of Lupus we've ever seen. Toxicosis From Pesticides? Most of those symptoms show damage to internal organs. We don't see any of that.

All of a sudden, they all stopped at once and shared disappointed looks. In the time that they fired off symptoms, none of them could process an alternate suggestion or dictate related conditions off the top of their heads. Their mentor wasn't there to corral their notions or tell them how misguided they were. The most crucial piece of their process was missing.

"It just doesn't work, does it?" observed Cameron.

"Look, its okay to be rattled about this." Foreman said. "Personally, I'm still freaked out. We just need a little more time to regroup."

"So what do we do next?" Cameron asked.

"I vote for a lymph node biopsy of the jaw," said Foreman.

Cameron and Chase took a moment to ponder the suggestion. They didn't have the frame of mind to rapidly process other suggestions.

"One of us needs to be responsible for making the final decisions for this patient," said Chase. "I might be listed as the primary attending, but I can't give him the attention he needs. Foreman, I like your idea. The case is yours."

Foreman nodded in agreement. "I'll go talk to our patient about the procedure."

Cameron was stunned by Chase's quick decision. What gave him the right? She waited until Foreman was out of sight to voice her objections.

"Why Foreman?" asked Cameron.

"He had an idea and he has proven himself running cases before."

"That makes him a better choice?"

Chase stopped for a second, knowing that he better choose his words carefully. He was so not in the mood for this now. "I need someone I can rely on. I might not be his or your supervisor, but if anything goes wrong with the case it will be my fault."

"So you don't trust me?" Cameron asked now using a dejected tone.

"I backed myself into that one," Chase said under his breath. "Of course I trust you. It's not that. Everything is out of control right now and I need someone who has been through this before. I'm not going to have time to help or supervise."

"I want the next case," Cameron declared adamantly.

"Are you sure you want that?" asked a skeptical Chase. "There is no one to fall back on so you would be responsible for the consequences. I can't promise anything though. I would have to take it up with Cuddy."

"Did Cuddy approve Foreman taking a case?"

"No, but I know she wouldn't disapprove. She knows Foreman is reliable."

"She doesn't think the same of me though," Cameron whined. "Of course not. She didn't when Foreman was chosen to supervise House."

"Be very careful about what you say. I wouldn't use that tone and defensive attitude when talking to Cuddy. She will rip you to shreds." Chase advised. "Look, you are tired and stressed. We all are. Go home and get some sleep and we can discuss this tomorrow when we are fresh."

Cameron was too upset to accept his shallow advice and stormed out of the office with a deep scowl on her face. Chase thought sleep was an excellent suggestion himself and he was going to take it. He quickly left their temporary locale and headed straight for home.

-------------------------

Foreman looked at the time. He had easily lost track. How could he not, there were so many distractions today. He quickly opened his cell phone and selected the number to dial.

"I'm so sorry. I guess doing anything on time is a hazard of the profession...

My boss? He's having some problems, but still hanging in there. Anyway, I was assigned a case today. I'm running a few hours behind, but I'll still be available...

So you can stay tonight? You don't know how happy that makes me. Just let yourself in if I'm not home yet. I'll really try to make sure that I'm there first...

Have a safe drive from Cherry Hill. I have something special but low key planned for this evening. I can't wait to see you."

He closed his cell phone with a joyful smile and sparkle in his eyes. He felt really lucky that she could make it on such short notice. He really needed something to take his mind off things.

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He who learns must suffer. And even in our sleep pain that cannot forget falls by drop upon the heart, and in our own despair, against our will, comes wisdom to us by the awful grace of God.

Aeschylus said that in the times before Christ, long before you devoted your entire life to the avoidance of pain. It has always existed and we should embrace the learning opportunities it brings. But alas, pain is a human quality. When shutting off humanity, you tried to shut off the pain as well.

Despite what you might believe I know that your pain does not define you. You really don't wish for it or want it. Avoiding the pain means avoiding the reality, and that seems to suit you just fine. How long though before all the isolation consumes you? It likely already has. That brilliant mind rests inside an eggshell of a human being and your life is now just one giant science experiment. Even though you know logically there is no quick fix, no button, no trigger, your life now depends on the hope that there is. Why do you think you are above the lessons of time?

As long as I have known you, you have always seen yourself above everything almost as if you were a God. Seeing the humanity in others meant that you would have to see the humanity in yourself. That couldn't happen though, because then you would have to admit you were flawed. You believed you were flawless in every way until the infarction. Your brilliance, your gifts, your insight were tarnished by the very real human condition of a bum leg. Even the slightest hint that you were actually a mere mortal was more than you could bear.

There are days where I actually think you wish for death. You have been dead before and were nonchalant about the mere idea of a life after death experience. Deep in your heart though, you knew it was real. You brushed away the thought like everything else because otherwise you couldn't ignore how real it was. And how comforting. You don't want comfort though, you want truth. There is no bigger truth than all living creatures die. Death is the final word but I'm certain you'd rather that word come from you. Death is the most desperate cure for pain.

Wilson was suddenly jolted out of his deep reflection by the loud beeping. "Not again," he said as he observed the monitor. Tachycardia. This time though, it was due to House thrashing about with his wires and tubes trying desperately to get out of bed. "Don't do this," Wilson said as he rushed over to restrain him.

"I cannot be harmed!" House shouted. "Go ahead, take another shot. I will never go down!" Wilson knew to hold back his arms, but the right one broke loose and that gave House enough momentum to shove forward. However, he still had quite a bit of muscle rigidity so the weakness and off balance force propelled him straight to the floor. There he struggled like a fish out of water. Wilson pushed the emergency call button and the crash team arrived.

"Tachycardia. He could be going into cardiac arrest."

"Get him some oxygen, fast!" the nurse shouted. They tried to hook up the mask while House was still on the floor, but he fiercely resisted. Then, all of a sudden, the will to fight was gone. His eyes rolled back and then closed.

The monitor started beeping wildly indicating they were now facing a more serious problem. "He's down!"

Wilson stood back and let the crash team do their part. This has happened before and he knew House would get through this. He was obviously still too weak to physically handle the violent outbursts and frequent tachycardia caused by the ketamine.

Wilson was quickly proven right. It only took one shock and House was back in normal sinus rhythm. Luckily whatever happened, it wasn't too bad. Still, it was rather alarming to watch.

Cuddy arrived just as they were lifting House back into the bed. "Another outburst?" asked a distressed Cuddy.

Wilson looked at her with his sullen face and nodded. "This time he had a sense of invulnerability."

"He still has typical side effects. We need to give him more time." Cuddy said softly so only Wilson would hear.

"Yes, but how long can we keep this up before drawing suspicion?" Wilson whispered as he guided Cuddy to a remote part of the room. "You and I have departments to run. We can't keep devoting 8 hours of our day to watching him. Chase doesn't have the time either since you have him doing House's job. You know as well as I do no matter how much work House avoided he still had his fair share. This can go on for a day, or it could go on for a few weeks."

Cuddy looked at him frustrated because there were no other options. "Let's give it another day," she pleaded. "If there is no improvement, we'll bring in some other people we can trust. We cannot let this get out, no matter what. If the wrong people get word about his issues they will use it against him."

Wilson stared at Cuddy with his trademark look that combined protest with panic wrapped with emotional restraint. "People we can trust. I only count two, Cameron and Foreman."

"Yes," said Cuddy. "I'll be back to relieve you in a few hours. If we are still in this mess same time tomorrow, I'll call a meeting."

Cuddy clomped away in her stiletto heels, leaving Wilson to contemplate the fate of his fallen friend yet again. "Hear that, you get to spend the evening with a hot chick. That sounds better than my plans," he told House as he sat back down beside him.

A/N: Be a little patient with me for the first few chapters. They set a somber mood as they reflect the adjustment period for everyone. I have some great ideas that will change the pace of the story later. Thanks for reading!