Next day, before noon, Soo was sitting with her father. Her mother and brother were present as well. They were waiting for House to come and start the process of waking Mr. Park out of his chemically induced coma. Soo was afraid. She knew that she had done her best, and she was sure her father would accept the surgery they had done, but there was still no telling how the treatment had actually worked. Yes, the tests looked good, yes the MRI showed that the muscle had already started to produce new cells to replace the dead ones and that physically they seemed to have saved the leg. But it would take a lot of therapy before they would know if the infarction had left Mr. Park with permanent weakness in his leg; and they were still completely in the dark about the pain. Soo had watched Dr. House closely these last days she had been in his company and she most definitely did not want her father living with the sort of pain she saw House deal with every day – even with the spinal injection of morphine she knew he had had. It almost broke her heart to watch; and if it was her father who was going through that pain, it really would break her heart – and it would destroy her mother.

House limped in with the rest of his ducklings. They checked the readings, the final tests and images and then House nodded to Foreman to start the waking up process.

"He should wake up in about half an hour," House told Soo and her family. "He will still be in pain as there are still dead cells in the muscle that need to clear out, but we can manage that pain with normal morphine drip. I would estimate that by tomorrow the process has finished and we can start assessing the damage that the infarction has caused. Of course we cannot know how much of the damage is permanent until Mr. Park has been through the rehab, but we should be able to make some educated guesses in a few days."

"But what about the muscle you cut out?" Soo's brother asked.

"We didn't cut that much," House explained, knowing full well that Kwan and his mother had been slightly misinformed about the surgery that had taken place. "We decided to take out only the most damaged part of the muscle which was less than ten percent of it. In my estimation that should not hinder his full recovery, provided the rest of the treatment has gone as we hope. Of course, the nerve damage is still the big question and that may alone be enough to cripple him regardless of the recovery of the muscles."

"But he will live?" Mrs. Park wanted to be assured.

"Barring any unexpected complications," House warned. "Yes, he will live."

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

Couple of hours later House stopped at Cuddy's office on his way to the clinic. Soo was not with him this time; she was busy with Foreman and Cameron.

"How is Mr. Park?" Cuddy asked slightly apprehensively.

"He came out of the coma without complications, his pain is manageable and tests look good so far," House told her. "It seems we were able to save his leg; provided that he doesn't end up suffering from chronic pain."

"In other words you were right and I was wrong," Cuddy sighed regretfully. "Had I followed your wishes instead of being so gung-ho about making sure you live regardless of the quality of life you would have, you would not be a cripple today."

"No point in beating yourself about that anymore, nothing you can do about it now" House shrugged a little uncomfortable with this vulnerable Cuddy. He then added with extra arrogance: "And I don't really blame you for not being as brilliant a doctor as I am."

Cuddy gasped. Was it even possible for anyone to be that full of himself? "House," she shook her head trying to find words. "There are days that even I wish I had let you die."

"Oh, don't you go all warm and fuzzy on me now," House admonished her coyly. Cuddy could not help she laughed.

"Am I forgiven?" She had to ask anyway.

"I never blamed you," House told her. "You are the doctor you are. I knew you didn't like my choice. You acted according to your nature."

"But Stacy?" Cuddy prompted. "Do you still blame her?"

"If she didn't live up to my expectations, is the fault hers or mine?" House seemed to be unwilling to give a straight answer.

"So you do blame her," Cuddy sighed.

"No, not anymore," House revealed. "I did for a long time, but not anymore. Sure it isn't always comfortable to have her around; there are scars – some of them physical." House indicated his leg. "But she, too, acted according to her nature. It is not her fault I put her on a pedestal that didn't quite fit her. Love is blind, after all."

"And now you are no longer blind, so you forgive her?" Cuddy suggested.

"Yeah," House replied shortly.

"But these days you also make damn sure you will never be blind again?" Cuddy questioned.

House snapped his back into attention and widened his eyes: "You are not working up towards a confession of undying love and devotion, Cuddy my girl?"

Cuddy sighed with resignation; apparently House was done with personal confessions for the day. "Though admittedly I'm not as brilliant as you think you are, I'm still not an idiot. Go do your clinic hours."

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

When House got back into his office after his clinic duty Stacy was waiting for him there.

"Do I sense a repetition of the conversation I already had with Cuddy?" House asked cautiously. "Because if that is the case, go and get the recap from her."

"I already did," Stacy confessed. "I just needed to see you to make sure that you meant what you said."

"I did," House confirmed. "I may be angry at being a cripple, but I don't blame you or Cuddy for it anymore. That's just the way things went."

"I understand that you and Soo managed to save her father's leg," Stacy said.

"Yeah, it seems that way, though it's not yet absolutely certain." House agreed.

"So she did a better job with the medical proxy thing than I did," Stacy sighed.

"She had more information to base her decisions on," House pointed out. "Besides this time I was the doctor, not the patient. Much easier to follow the case and make recommendations that way. Did Cuddy tell you that we did cut some of the muscle, too, only not that much."

"No, she didn't go into details," Stacy told him. "So even you saw some surgery was necessary? But your priority was to save as much of the leg as possible, when we just concentrated on saving your life."

"Look, stop torturing yourself with this," House decided to end the subject. "So I now have proof that the treatment I chose works, I have the satisfaction of having been right. But you did what you thought was best given the circumstances and the doctor in charge."

"Oh, so it's Lisa's fault, now? Because she wasn't good enough a doctor for you?" Stacy was indignant.

"She is a good doctor," House said turning to go and get some coffee for himself; Stacy followed him to the other room. "Just not in my league; not her fault."

"Sometimes your arrogance is just breathtaking," Stacy fumed, though she was smiling. House turned to say something to her but before he did, Wilson stormed into the conference room startling all the ducklings and Stacy, too.

"House, you bastard!" Wilson yelled and hit House. This time House did not expect it so he fell on the floor, full length. Foreman and Chase jumped Wilson pulling him back from their boss, while the ladies, - Soo, Cameron and Stacy – went to check on House. House, however, waved them away and lifted himself up to lean on his elbow. He decided that for the time being it was safer for him to stay down, until he found out what was bugging Wilson – though he did have his suspicions. There weren't that many things that would produce this reaction from Wilson.

"This is getting into a habit with you, Jimmy," House remarked from the floor. "A very bad one, I might add."

"How, dare you," Wilson fumed. "Let go of me Chase, Foreman." After some hesitation they did let go of Wilson, but backed only a step or so, just in case. "You dare to say anything about my bad habits! You... You have no decency, no honour, no ethics..."

"I have a feeling I have had this conversation with someone already," House mused from the ground. "How many times do I have to say it: I am not hustling any medical students, Soo least of all!"

"What is going on?!" Stacy asked exasperated. "Why would Wilson think you are involved with Soo?"

"I know he is not involved with Soo," Wilson snarled.

"Then what is your problem?" Foreman asked.

"My problem is the woman he is involved with," Wilson snapped.

"I'm not involved with any woman right now," House denied. "And even if I was, I really cannot see how that would be your business."

"Not even when it is a patient?" Wilson pointed out.

"You are involved with your patient?" Stacy looked disgusted.

"No, I am not, nor have I ever been involved with any of my patients," House stated deciding it was time to get up. Cameron refused to help – she too seemed disgusted with him – but Soo came to the rescue helping him up and giving him his cane. House limped to the coffee machine. He didn't pour any coffee for himself yet, just leaned against the counter.

"Really," Wilson asked. "Does this refresh your memory?" He took a button out of his pocket and showed it to House. "Or this?" Wilson also produced a letter that was addressed to House in feminine handwriting. The letter was closed.

"No, can't say that they do," House denied. "Why do you think they would?"

"Because they are from your apartment," Wilson explained. "I went there to get those DVDs I had loaned to you, while there I stepped on the button. I was not sure where I had seen it before, but I was sure it was no good news to find it in your bedroom. On my way out, just in case, I checked your mailbox and found that letter. I recognised the handwriting and when I saw it I also remembered where I had seen the button before. You disgusting son of a bitch!"

House was silent for a moment. He considered denying everything – after all, he really did not recognise the button or the handwriting, but Wilson did, and the items really could not belong to anyone else but Andie's mother. House sighed, better just face the music.

"That still doesn't change the fact that she has never been a patient of mine," House repeated.

"Her daughter was, same difference," Wilson insisted.

"No, her daughter was your patient, not mine," House pointed out. "True, I did consult in the case, but that was over a year ago."

"Andie? Andie's Mother?" The penny dropped for Cameron. "You ... She was in your apartment that night? That's... How could you!"

"Would someone explain this to me?" Stacy demanded.

"A few days ago a patient of mine died," Wilson enunciated carefully. "An eleven year old girl. The same night, House here, took advantage of the girl's grief-stricken mother and hustled her into his bed. I happened to visit him next morning and found out that he was hiding someone in his bedroom, but it never occurred to me that he could go so low."

"Hey, I'm a man," House shrugged. "What did you expect me to do when a gorgeous red-head appeared at my doorstep in the middle of the night? Send her packing?"

"Yes," Stacy asserted. "That is exactly what you should have done. Call a cab and send her home! Any decent man would have done that."

"Now that is where your thinking is all wrong," House explained. "The words decent and man don't really go together. Not in real world. Besides I did call her a cab, I just did it the next morning."

"You are disgusting," Wilson turned to go. "I cannot imagine what she must be thinking and feeling right now."

"Maybe she is saying some of it in that letter," Stacy wondered.

"It's private," House insisted. "Give it here."

"No, I think I want to see what kind of damage you have done," Wilson refused. He took the letter and opened it. House wasn't fast enough in trying to snatch it from him. There was no letter, just a 20 dollar bill and a small card that said: Thank you.

"Damn," House broke the silence that had ensued. "I was sure I was better than that."

"Thank you?" Chase read the card aloud. "She doesn't sound too upset, though the tip is measly."

"Shut up," Wilson told him. "You are just like House!"

He stormed out.

"Does this mean the Christmas plans are off?" House called after him.

"Hanukkah!" Wilson shouted back. "And you can go to Hell!"