Notes: Sorry, guys, for the late update. On 26th, one of my heroes died, Kobe Bryant, it was pretty devastating. I just watched Kobe games, during my free time last week. Don't worry, guys I am back! this story has two chapters to go.
The medicine is vague in this chapter because i am not a doctor.
GH/JW
House and Wilson stayed in Laguna for a couple of weeks after the super typhoon. House loved working in the Philippines; he loved the people; people loved him as well. Perhaps because in the nonjudgmental world, he was just a doctor, not an autistic doctor.
One time the kids were playing basketball, House during his downtime, he walked towards the kids; and played some pick-up game despite the hypotonia. Another time, House was doing a minor procedure with a teenager and began talking to the kid about the NBA. Unlike lots of people on the spectrum, House was well versed in the sport; growing up, he used that to fit in at school.
Today, they were doing a medical mission in Infanta Quezon, the nearest province from Laguna. When House noticed Wilson grew paler. They had decided on a six-month contract with DWB. Wilson was examining a patient, a man in his thirties. "Dr. Wilson, a word, please," House said; Wilson held out his hand. "Stat."
"Why?" Wilson asked. House saw his partner's questioning expression.
House dragged Wilson outside the tent. "Are you serious? You're sick, James." House shouted, drawing looks from the crowd gathered around the basketball court where the medical mission was taking place.
"No, I am not," Wilson said. House's blue eyes shot daggers into Wilson, with such ferocity that Wilson started to cave in. "All right, I am not feeling okay."
House touched his forehead. "Since when are you running a fever?" He yelled. House knew; that Wilson would be lying. "Don't lie to me, James."
Wilson didn't know what to say; he looked at Greg and at the crowd gathered around. "Last night, I took a pill before going to bed."
"Are you kidding me, are you freaking kidding me?" House yelled, not caring about the people that we're watching them.
"Greg, Why are you angry?"
"Why?" House was on a rampage. "Why do you think? You idiotic perp, you might have contracted dengue or some other disease." House saw Wilson's understanding broke in his partner's face.
"Okay, What do you want me to do?" Wilson said, putting his arms around House's shoulders.
"Just slow down and take care of yourself," House said, kissing him on the lips. People hummed and whistled.
"Greg, people."
GH/JW
A day and a half later, Wilson's condition started to worsen. As they were at home (at a hotel room) on their day off. Wilson got up and got to the bathroom. House heard him vomiting, he got up as well. "Jimmy? you okay?" House asked, looking at Wilson severely. Wilson straightens, he looked over at him. He didn't answer. "Let me take you to the tent."
Wilson wanted to protest; however, a look from House stopped him. Instead, he stood up and got to his feet, but he swayed and fell down. House's doctorly instincts kick in. He walked calmly to Wilson, dragged him to his feet.
They walked outside in the blistering heat, with the cane on his right hand and Wilson on his left. They were slow. House checked in on Wilson every couple of moments.
The walked took a couple of minutes; As soon as they were inside the tent, Patrick Jensen saw them. "Thirty-nine-year-old male, fever and chills vomited twice in the hotel room." Jensen guided the two men inside a booth.
"Greg, you have an idea what this is?" Jensen asked after he checked Wilson out for a while.
"I got no idea what this is," House said, looking at him. "Maybe it is dengue or something else."
Jensen knew not to anger him. "Okay." The older man led House to a makeshift lab. "Okay, We need you now."
"I need to be with James," House said.
Jensen knew to distract him, because if he didn't, House would interfere with Wilson's care. "I have a patient for you." House furrowed his brow as if he wanted to protest, but he shot his mouth.
House followed Jensen to a curtained off area. A kid was on the gurney; the boy was unconscious, intracranial pressure., his brilliant mind supplied. "I am not a surgeon, I need to go to see James."
"Greg?" Jensen said, looking at House. "No, I know you're not a surgeon, but James doesn't need you interfering with his care."
House was indignant. However, he knew Jensen was right. He "Okay, text me if James woke up." Jensen left him to see the boy. "Hi, my name is Dr. Greg House." He said in Tagalog.
"Dr. House?" The mother asked. "Can you help him."
"I'll do everything I can, mom." He promised, the lilting Tagalog words resonated in the small room. This place was making me soft. House thought.
"Dr. House, do something, please."
He shooed the woman out, assessing Koby. "Dammit. I need a nurse in one." House said, seconds later, a nurse in scrabs entered.
House looked at Koby. "Hi, My name is Dr. Gregory House, Koby." Does this hurt? He pressed his thumb on the child's head. Koby didn't react. "Dammit, nurse. We need to vacate the inter-cranial pressure." The nurse blink at him, "STAT," House said, glaring at her. "Get Jensen." House needed to get a hold of himself; he was getting irritated.
Five minutes later, Jensen entered the curtain area. "Greg? What's wrong?"
"I am not a surgeon," House admitted, it was a hard admission for him to make.
Jensen sighed. "Greg, I can take him. If you want, but if you can assist."
He thought about it for a while, and he shook his head. "Just send Cecile." They arranged the bed for the draining procedure. They were ten doctors and fifteen nurses, while Wilson was out, they were nine. They were completely understaffed.
"Okay," Jensen said.
Cecile came in the curtain area. "Dr. House? How can I help you?" She said sarcastically.
House answered, though not understanding the sarcasm. "You can help with Koby here."
"Ah… Okay, then. Dr. House, care to tell me what happened?"
House looked at her, but he agreed. "Okay, I got a hunch about his mother."
"About what?" Cecile asked.
"Koby was being abused," House said. "The mother knew about that; she was obviously hiding, or she was hiding someone."
"Oh…" Cecile suddenly asked. "Do I call need to DSWD?"
"Social work?" House asked, looking at her.
"Yes." Cecile looked at him. She helped House with the boys head; House got the drill from its case.
"Should I call social work first?" House asked the nurse.
The nurse looked at him in bewilderment, she blinked at him. She knew he has autism, Wilson told her, but she never put that against him. "Dr. House, do the surgery first."
"Okay," House said, getting the drill from underneath, soaking the barrel on antiseptic alcohol. He put the drill on top Koby's head and start draining.
GH/JW
After the intracranial pressure drained from Koby's head and his patient was in recovery bay. House visited Wilson in the ward; his partner was awake looking at him. "Greg?"
"Yes, I am here." He sat by Wilson's side.
"What's wrong with me?" Wilson asked in his fevered state. "Greg?"
House sighed and held Wilson's hand in his. "I don't know, I have a working hypothesis, though. Don't worry, Jimmy."
Wilson looked at him. "Why? What happened to the Greg I love." He said.
House frowned. "What does that mean, James."
"You aren't yourself. You should have…" Wilson said accusingly.
House cut him off and was now angry. He knew that this was the fever talking, but he can't help it. "I saw a kid being abused, God. Not saw... You know what I mean. Jensen distracted me from you." House glanced down at the catheter bag. "Nurse?" House shouted.
Wilson was alarmed. "What is it?"
"Shit, this isn't good," House said, looking at Wilson. "Bloody urine, Jensen!" House shouted. A couple of moments later, Jensen entered the curtain area. "This is dengue. " House said, looking at his colleague.
The days that follow were tiring for House. He didn't go back to the motel room. He sat at Wilson's bedside during the day; while working at night. He was annoyed at the world, at one point he almost called his father he wants to go home. However, he didn't do it; he was scared the general would be disappointed in him.
The second day, House had prayed. He was an atheist and he prayed; this was the love of his life. Maybe if there was a god, he would hear mere mortals. He just wanted to cover all of his bases.
On the fourth day, Wilson's stats improved, House hoped that this was the end of the worst. His kidneys were working, and according to the monitor and Jensen.
On the fifth day, Wilson was talking to him. "Greg?" He said. "I miss you, babe."
House breathed a sigh of relief. "God, James, I was so friggin' worried for you," House said, kissing Wilson on his lips.
Wilson looked at him puzzled.
House said, "Jimmy," and he cried and cried and cried. The dam burst out. "I thought you are going to die."
"Greg? Come here, babe." Wilson hugged House tightly.
"I thought you were going to die." He cried into Wilson's shoulder. "I had considered calling the General to go home."
Wilson frowned, He knew that House wanted to be seen as strong. "God, I love you so much." And that admission had cost him a lot.
End of Chapter 9