Disclaimer: I did not own them at the beginning of the story, the characters from Hosue are STILL not mine. But Lettie is mine, all mine, seriously.
A/N: I will be out of town until after the New Year, plenty of time to read, re-read and review. Please do. After the next new show airs, i will see where to take the story from there. : )
Two hours ago House had mumbled into the phone "Look I swear it isn't going to get you arrested, just take down this address and meet me there when you've done what I asked you to do." "Ok," he heard on the other end of the phone and slammed it down as Lettie's voice was continuing "but you know I don't trust you." House unlocked the door so that he wouldn't have to get back up, and crumpled onto the couch. If he could just wait until she showed up, he would be alright. He knew he would be. She was bringing relief.
Those thoughts had been circling through his head with increasing desperation for the past two hours, and just as he was giving up, there was a knock on his door. "Who is it?" He moaned, and heard the voice outside say "Your dancing telegram." Lettie obviously had no idea how much pain he had been in on the phone, which was good because he would need the shock when she came in to help his cause. "Come in" he moaned again and made sure to look his most pathetic. However, under the circumstances, that was not too difficult a task.
"Wait, is this your apartme- where are you?" She was just inside the door and not moving any farther. House lifted his cane over the back of the couch and mumbled something unintelligible. "What's the matter?" Lettie walked around the side of the couch and saw him lying there. "Dr. House oh my God, what's the matter?! Why did you call me, why didn't you call someone from the hospital?" She was visibly panicked, at least that part had worked, but she didn't seem to be incoherent, so he wasn't going to be able to soften his act. He would have to struggle through the convincing her part. So he pulled himself up with a groan of pain and wiped his mouth on his arm.
"They kicked me off my case, they took my pills, Tritter is succeeding in ruining my life like he tried to ruin yours." House grabbed his leg and winced, and struggled on. "I'm not addicted to the medicine, I'm not addicted to the pain; I'm addicted to practicing medicine. They won't let me do it if I don't take Tritter's deal. I won't take it cause I won't admit I'm an addict when I'm not. Help me. I thought you would understand." He considered throwing in a bit about the Ketamine, how he didn't need the pills when there was no pain, just to prove his point. He opened an eye and looked at her.
"I didn't know it was anything like that when you first called, you know?" He wondered why that was a question but before he could struggle to ask she continued, "I thought you wanted a booty call, or thought I went in for that type of thing. Then when you told me to go get my prescription refilled and come meet you somewhere, I kinda pieced it together." He moaned, wanting her to say the words he was imagining, not what he knew was coming next. But she didn't say anything at all. She just moved to the couch where he was sitting and plopped herself down next to him. She stayed silent, like she was thinking of something, and House wanted to respect her thoughts but more than her, he wanted to help himself.
"So are you going to give me the Vicodin or should I kick you out?" She just sat there, picking at an imaginary piece of lint on her coat, and then she took it off. "I didn't go to the pharmacy. I called the hospital. I asked for someone on your team. They let me talk to Dr. Cameron. I told her what you said and she said not to do it. I told her I wanted to, she told me she wanted me to, but that I shouldn't, because I should stay out of it." He rolled his eyes; trust Cameron to care about a stranger more than she cared even about herself, or him. Lettie kept talking, "But she did say to come talk to you. I think she might have wanted to come back herself. I wish she had, she knows you, I don't." House moaned and said to her "What does it matter? Give me pills!"
"It does matter, and I don't want to be responsible. So I didn't get my prescription refilled. But I did bring you the one pill I had left. I figured I would leave at least one pill up to you." House stared at her, and almost wanted to shake her to get it, but he knew she just had to walk out, and he was in too much pain to chase her. So he had to be careful. "Do I have to count backwards from 100 and stand on one leg to get it? I assure you, I only have one leg to stand on. Lettie, give me the Vicodin." She reached into her bag, and was obviously stalling while she pretended to search for the pill. She had more to say and was going to use this time to say it. "You should take Tritter's deal. It would show them that not only are you not an addict, but that you are also man enough to beat them at their own game." She found the pill but was not handing it over yet. "Because if the leg still hurts beyond anything they can do for you in rehab, they will be forced to confront their mistake. It might be painful for you, but you will win. Isn't winning all you ever want? I know that winning is all I ever want. We're a lot alike. It's why I came. Not because I care about you, but because I would want someone to do whatever I asked them to do. Just like you. But, I do care about you."
Was this going to turn into a Cameron thing? "I obviously care about you too Lettie, as in I do not hate your guts and didn't let you get arrested. But that care is balanced on a fine point that is one pill of Vicodin, right now, its too fine to bet on. Hand it over." She did, and he swallowed it lightning fast so she couldn't take it back. He was like a desperate toddler. And as soon as the pill was past the point of no return, he calmed down. He turned to Lettie to tell her to get out, but she was already putting her things back in her bag. Not going to turn into a Cameron thing, she didn't want thanks and love and respect.
"Go to rehab House, when you get out look me up. But not otherwise, I can't have anyone thinking I lied to them. Unlike you I don't do anything special, I can be replaced. But they wouldn't want to replace you; they really are trying to help. I know they seem like selfish bastards, but prove them wrong." She reached out a hand and with the sleeve of her coat wiped the sweat from his forehead. "I've done all I'll do, I never thought I would end up mixed up with an addicted Doctor I saw for five minutes in a clinic. Maybe if you clean yourself up, I'll show you what all that ballet does for my personal life… maybe." She walked out the door, her last dramatic exit for a while.
Dr. House got himself together a little; one Vicodin wasn't going to help much. He needed to get over to the hospital to lean on Wilson, or someone else, and use their guilt to get one more fix. He was fairly certain Lettie was throwing him a line about the "personal life" thing, but all the same, it gave him something to think about on the other side of a rehab stint. A flexible little ballerina could really make his life more interesting. But now he had to go press Wilson for some pills.