Wilson was overwhelmed. He had three terminal cases all going at once, and one was a three-year-old girl with ALL that wasn't caught in time. She had gone through the biopsies and chemo and she was probably going to die anyway. Wilson put his head in his hands, frustrated that he couldn't do anything but make her comfortable.

"I can hear you caring. What's wrong?" House asked from the doorway.

"Nothing," Wilson answered, propping his head up on his hands.

House raised his eyebrows, sitting on the couch.

Wilson sighed. "Three-year-old girl with ALL."

"Can't help her?"

"Nope."

"Bummer."

"What do you want?" Wilson asked.

"Can't I enjoy the company of my friend?"

Wilson glared. "House, not now. What do you want?"

"Hiding from my team. They picked up a boring case and won't let it go," House told him, rubbing his leg harder than usual. Wilson picked up on it, as always.

"Leg worse today?" Wilson asked, trying to be casual.

"I'm fine," House answered, taking his hand off his leg and setting it on his cane, holding it tightly.

"That's not what I asked."

"Yes. I feel terrible. Worst I've ever felt in my life. Is that what you want to hear?" House asked, irked.

"No, of course not. I was just trying to help."

"Well don't." House stood and limped out of the office. The obvious truth was that his leg was worse, but he wasn't going to let it get the best of him by talking about it. He walked past the research lab. He hadn't forgotten about the drug. In fact, it was all he had thought about all night. He couldn't sleep, so he had read up on some previous trials that had tried to regrow muscle. Lots of failures, but some minor successes. House was never one to look on the bright side, but he needed this. He didn't admit it to anyone, but his leg had been getting worse the past few months. He'd been taking an hour on average to get out of bed because of the weakness and cramps, and he had adjusted his schedule based on that. Essentially, he carved out an hour each morning to be in pain, and that wasn't a way to live.

"Dr. Riggin! How are you this fine morning?" House greeted the researcher, not able to keep a note of sarcasm out of his voice.

Dr. Riggin was obviously suspicious. Why would House come in to talk to him twice in one day? Had the oncologist ditched him? "Good morning, Dr. House. I'm OK, how are you?"

"Fine. Say, you look like you could use a break. How about you go get yourself a cup of coffee? I can watch these mice for you; finish the injections?"

"That's very nice of you, Dr. House. I actually have to administer the injections because of the trial's stipulations, but if you would observe the mice for about ten minutes after their injections, that would be great, thanks."

House nodded. "I do have one question, just out of curiosity. How many injections have been effective at regrowing the muscle?"

"Well, it's been about ten on average. It does depend on the volume of muscle, though."

House nodded and watched the doctor finish up. He supposed Dr. Riggin assumed he was interested, because he talked to House about the trial the whole time he was injecting the mice.

"You have to inject in the epicenter of the muscle loss...also, they run on their wheels for about ten minutes after they get injected to stimulate growth, and about twenty minutes when they aren't getting injected. For humans, this would probably translate into physical therapy. I inject them every other day. Hopefully this will be a big breakthrough in the field of muscle development!"

House nodded along, only gleaning the important details. He must have winced a little when a particularly squeaky mouse got injected, because Dr. Riggin assured him it wasn't very painful. He wasn't so sure, especially on his damaged muscle that was sometimes aggravated by a strong wind.

"Have a good coffee!" House said cheerfully, and ushered Riggin out, closing the door behind him. Then, he took off his backpack and stuffed several doses of the sealed drug into his bag, and left. Riggin would never know. He was a socialite; always conversing around the water cooler. On his way back to his office, he also snagged a resistance band from PT when the physical therapist wasn't looking. She was too busy with a kid and his new leg. Chump.

House found himself smiling to himself on his way back to the office. His leg would get stronger, and he may even be able to ditch the cane. He almost drooled at the thought.

MEDICAL GLOSSARY:

ALL: Acute lymphoblastic leukemia. One of the most fatal types of leukemia. Occurs mostly in children and originates in a different type of cell than AML (acute myelocytic leukemia).