Next morning Blythe and Georgia were having breakfast together, when House came by (unusually early for him!).
"Should I just tell the nurses to put you two in the same room together?" he asked the ladies.
"Goodness, no," Georgia said. "How could we go on with our flirtation if your mother was there all the time?"
"That is my point," House pointed out. "She is here all the time."
"I'm just making most of the time I have to get to know Georgia," Blythe reassured him. "Your father will be here today, and after that there will be the surgery so I don't know how often I can drop by again."
"There is another reason, too, why you ought to make the best of your chances," House said, then turning to Georgia. "You are responding well to the penicillin, so your son can take you home tomorrow."
"Oh dear, and I was so enjoying my stay," Georgia mourned. "But I suppose you will need this bed for those who are really sick. Wonderful stuff that penicillin, I have to say. First it cleared my syphilis, now my pneumonia... What else can it do?!"
"Quite a number of things, none of which I want you to try!" House admonished. "Next time you feel poorly you come to me, understand? No listening to these young good for nothing quacks again."
"I promise. I'd rather see you anyway." Georgia agreed. As House left the ladies to enjoy their breakfast Georgia noted: "He really is a nice young man, that son of yours."
"He has certainly always got on very well with the ..." Blythe was momentarily at loss for words.
"Old people?" Georgia helped her out. "Isn't that what you wanted to say? I don't mind, I'm 85 so I certainly count as an old person."
"Ok, then, he has always got on well with old people, though I don't really know why."
"Because we are shunned, set aside, pushed into the margin. He finds us interesting because nobody else wants to listen to us. We in the sidelines of life have a different perspective to things and he likes that. At least that is what I think, but I've only known him for couple of years."
"But you could still be right," Blythe agreed. "He has always been drawn to people who others ignore."
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Having left his mother and Georgia in Georgia's room, House went into the diagnostics department. He arrived there soon after Foreman. House checked his mother's file again – in silence – reading the latest test results.
"My mother complained of some double vision and blurriness last night. You should talk to her about that," House informed the younger man.
"She didn't have that before, did she?" Foreman asked.
"When I first asked her she said no, but last night she was no longer quite so sure. Talk to her." With that House left Foreman, going into his own office and closing the door behind him.
Chase and Cameron arrived soon after and Foreman updated them on the situation. They discussed the case in subdued tones, fully aware of House sitting in his office. Cameron suggested that they ask his input, but the guys vetoed that. If House wanted to take part, all he had to do was open the door and either come in or call them into his office. Foreman was not going to initiate anything with this new House they were forced to deal with.
"He said that Mrs. House had double vision last night," Foreman told the other two.
"That could put MG on the table," Chase mused. "Isn't there an ocular version of it that presents itself with drooping eyelids, double vision and blurring?"
"That is what I thought, too," Foreman agreed. "Myasthenia Gravis patients often have thymomas and rheumatic arthritis is also associated with it. We should test for AchR in her blood and if the results are positive, we should do a thymectomy instead of just removing the tumour."
"But MG usually affects women in their 20's!" Cameron exclaimed.
"Usually, but not invariably," Foreman agreed. "Besides, I'm just saying we ought to test for it. Lambert-Eaton and MS are still possibilities as well."
"Though whichever it is, we are detecting it early," Chase said. "And that is good news for the treatment and long term prognosis."
"That at least ought to make House happier," Cameron was happy to note.
"Has anyone seen him take his pills lately?" Foreman suddenly asked.
"Not me," Chase wondered.
"No, I don't think I have," Cameron realised, too. "Do you think he has decided to stop taking them again?"
"No way," Chase said. "If he hasn't taken them, we would know by now. The last time he detoxed is not easy to forget and the symptoms were more than obvious. He must be still taking them; he just isn't doing it as openly. Though I cannot understand why. He has never been ashamed of his habit, quite the contrary."
"Maybe it's because of his Mother," Foreman mused. "I sure wouldn't want my mother think I'm an addict."
"I don't think that is it," Cameron said suddenly. "I think it is more a case of him not wanting his mother to know how much he is taking. He does not want his parents to know how painful his leg still is."
"Could be," Chase agreed. "Though, I would not put any money on that interpretation. He doesn't seem like a man who would much care about his parents opinions."
"He cares about his mother," Cameron pointed out the obvious. "For her, I think he would try to hide his pain and his addiction."
They all looked into House's office trying to figure out the man sitting in there silently listening to his music or doing research or whatever. He was a puzzle and they felt they would never understand what he was all about.
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The team was doing the differential on Blythe as House sat in his office trying to keep his mind off the imminent arrival of John House. Not a cheerful prospect that. Especially as he had to try and keep things on an even keel with his father, now that his mother had quite enough on her plate without trying to keep peace between her son and her husband. Wilson's arrival was a pleasant interruption to his thoughts.
"You don't look too cheerful," House said to his friend who was sporting an unusually sombre look on his face.
"Andie is back. She checked in last night," Wilson sighed and sat down opposite to House.
"Andie?" House repeated. "Oh, yes, the little, bald, circus freak. I remember."
"At least you are back to your normal, snarky self," Wilson observed. "She wants to see you."
"Is she hallucinating again?" House asked.
"No. Her cancer is active again, but she is not hallucinating or having any other weird symptoms. She just wants to see you." Wilson stated.
"And that is not a weird symptom?" House asked. "Her wanting to see me?"
"No, it isn't. Just a very odd taste in people," Wilson shot back. "You should be able to relate to that."
"Ok, I can go and see her on my way to the clinic," House agreed. "What is her status?"
"The cancer is back, but I think we can beat it one more time. Maybe for a couple of months."
"She wants that? To go through yet another gruesome round of chemo for just a couple of months?" House asked simply. "She has already lived longer than the year we were hoping to give her with the removal of that tumour and that clot."
"Life is life, even if only a few weeks," Wilson said.
"If you're sure," House doubted. "I cannot imagine what she wants of me, but I'll go see her."
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House walked into Andie's room a little later that day. Andie was still a beautiful young girl, ten now, almost eleven, but she looked worn out. More so than the last time House had sat by her bedside. Her mother was there, but when Andie said she wanted to visit with Dr. House alone, she decided to go and have a bite to eat in the cafeteria. House drew a chair next to Andie's bed and sat down.
"So here I am, all yours, kid," he said.
"Would you please help me," Andie asked in a small voice.
"If I can," House said. "What is it you want?"
"I want this to be over," Andie said. "You are the only one who has ever asked me, what I want. Then I wanted to go on, but now I want this to be over. I don't want more chemo, I don't want this anymore. I'm tired."
"I can understand that, but I'm not your doctor," House explained. "You need to tell this to Dr. Wilson."
"He is not asking me, he is asking my mother," Andie pointed out. "I love my Mum, and I don't want to hurt her, but I will die, there is no avoiding it. But I cannot just blurt it out to her, that I don't want any of this any more. Would you talk to Dr. Wilson, and ask him to prepare my Mum? So that she will be better able to understand it when I tell her that I won't do this anymore."
"I'm not very good at explaining things to people, but I will do my best," House told Andie. "I definitely think you have the right to decide for yourself what you want, and you have been there for your Mother longer than anyone could have expected. You, if anyone, have earned the right to think of yourself now."
"Thank you," Andie said. "I knew you would understand."
"What is there to understand? I saw your mettle the time I treated you for that clot. I believe you are perfectly capable of making your own decision. And I will do my best to make Dr. Wilson see it too." House stood up and made to leave the room. At the door Andie's voice stopped him.
"You wouldn't want to kiss me, would you?" she asked. House turned and saw a glimmer of the old Andie, the one who had told him to go outside into the sunshine, in her eyes.
"No, no matter what you say," was his answer. "I can send Chase here to see you, though, if you want to."
"I don't think I can get him to kiss me again," Andie said mournfully. House looked at her, smiling, and then he limped back to the bedside. He leaned down and gave her a small kiss on the forehead.
"You'll just have to make do with that, then," he said, and left the room.