House sat in his office, waiting for one of his team to return. He was surprised to see Chase enter the office and sit down.
"Missed me that much?" House asked.
"The girls are in the NICU," Chase explained. "The family felt more comfortable with them in a setting more geared to younger patients and so Cuddy assigned them to me." Chase paused. "Tanita's not getting sick."
"It's only been a few hours," House responded.
"No, it's been a few days. Joyanna was showing symptoms when they arrived, we just didn't know it then. She was already crying excessively and having difficulty speaking."
"She's 22 months old," House retorted. "Not exactly the age for witty repartee."
"House. She couldn't even say Mama. That's pretty basic, and something she's been doing for nearly a year. Her mother says the crying is definitely different. If anything, Tanita is usually the fussy one," Chase sighed heavily. He'd wanted to get away from House, but he was beginning to question whether he was sufficiently prepared for the emotional toll dying babies took on a man.
"How long have they been here?" House asked.
"Since Wednesday," Chase answered. House stood, grabbing his cane off the arm of his chair, and limped toward the lab, where he found Cameron, Jasper and Foreman hunched over various microscopes and machines.
"Stop what you're doing," House ordered.
"House, we haven't even finished half the tests," Cameron replied. "We're only through the obvious stuff, but considering where they're from it could be any one of literally dozens of things."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, but the other one isn't sick," House said.
"It's only been a few hours," Foreman reasoned. "Even the most virulent infection could take hours to present symptoms in a new patient."
"Except Chase here has discovered that the first one's been sick for days," House said.
"And there's no way that only one of a set of conjoined twins to be exposed to any infectious disease," Jasper interrupted.
"Unless they're unhooking their livers at night to party," House offered. "Even if only one of them was exposed, their faces are inches apart. They'd be breathing it on each other literally with every breath."
"And since they're sharing blood vessels, they're also sharing a blood supply. Even if one of them had a compromised immune system, they'd be sharing the antibodies to fight off the infection through their common blood vessels," Cameron noted.
"There's no way this is infectious," House said. "So stop wasting your time with all these tests and get her into an MRI." House turned and limped out of the lab without waiting for a response.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Wilson entered his office to find a gift wrapped box in the center of his desk. Coming in to his office to find things moved or taken wasn't unusual for Wilson. House had long ago discovered a way into virtually every locked space in the hospital. But finding something left for him, besides a mess, was definitely new.
Certain it had to be from House, unless he'd taught Cameron how to break into his office, Wilson looked at the present with trepidation. They hadn't spoken since House had tried to strangle him and Wilson had punched him out, and a gift made Wilson nervous. Dropping his briefcase on the floor and hanging his jacket, he eyed the gift from a distance. Quietly approaching the desk, he gingerly lifted the box to his ear to check for ticking. Convinced it wouldn't explode; Wilson removed the wrapping and found two boxes.
He opened the first box. Inside was a framed ultrasound photo. Wilson was stunned. It was an image he knew well. He and Cuddy had spent hours staring at it since her appointment the previous week. Lifting the frame from the box, Wilson noticed an envelope underneath. He opened it and withdrew a plain white card.
Jimmy,
Since you won't be winning the steak knives.
House
P.S. Oh, and here's a picture of the parasite too.
Confused, Wilson shifted his gaze to the second box. Chuckling in disbelief, he opened it to find a brand new set of steak knives.
As Wilson settled the photo of his offspring on his desk, there was a knock at the door. He called a 'come in', expecting one his staff. His jaw nearly dropped when House entered.
"Hey," House said.
"Did you just knock on my door?" Wilson asked, stunned. "And then wait for me to say come in?"
"Well, I wanted to make sure you and Cuddy weren't in here in a compromising position," House explained, a devilish look about him. "I would certainly hate to have knowledge of that happening here in the hospital."
"How did you…Never mind, I don't want to know," Wilson said, shaking his head and blushing lightly.
"So, you got your present," House stated, looking at the frame on Wilson's desk.
"Yes, thank you. I'm a little disturbed that you were able to get a copy of the ultrasound photo. I probably don't want to know about that either, huh?" Wilson asked.
"Probably not," House agreed. He looked around the office a bit, uncomfortable. He knew he should apologize, but making those words come out of his mouth when he really meant them was just so hard. "Look, Jimmy," he began, scratching his thumb across his forehead.
"You don't have to say it. You might have gone about it in a nicer way, but what you said certainly wasn't without foundation. You bought me a gift; you obviously spent a great deal of time sneaking around and breaking the law and every ethical guideline the hospital has to get a copy of the ultrasound. The gesture says everything that needs to be said. You've redeemed yourself," Wilson smiled at him. House nodded, glad that things would be okay and relieved he needn't make a speech about it.
"Good, because I kind of need a favor," House said sheepishly.
"Of course you do," Wilson said, sighing, laughing and shaking his head at once. It was a typical reaction to House. House dropped a file on Wilson's desk, which Wilson hadn't noticed previously. Expecting a consult, Wilson was taken aback by what he read.
"House, what the hell is this?" Wilson asked.
"I would have thought that was obvious by the words and stuff," House said, sitting on Wilson's couch.
"This is a letter to rescind a DNR," Wilson sputtered.
"I am aware of that," House said.
"When did you sign a DNR? How could you not tell me, I'm your proxy for God's sake?" Wilson demanded.
"I signed it after the shooting. I didn't tell you because I knew you'd only try to talk me out of it. Now I want it rescinded, so you don't have to talk me out of it, it's safe to tell you now. And read the rest, there's more stuff in there I need you to sign," House said.
Wilson shuffled through the papers and found what House was referring to. He was surprised again, and happy for his friend and hurt all at the same time. How could a man who routinely rejected any and all emotion evoke so much emotion in another person? It was something of a mystery.
"So, is that a no comment?" House asked.
"Are you sure about this?" Wilson asked, his voice catching a bit in his throat.
"As sure as I can be," House replied. Wilson nodded and reached for a pen. He signed the documents and put them back in the file. He handed them to House, who stood up and limped to the door.
"House," Wilson called. House turned. "Good for you."
Jasper and Chase approached House in the hall on his way out of Wilson's office. House was distracted, but not too much to notice the subtle shift in body language between the two of them. Rather than the acres of space Chase usually kept between them, they were walking together normally, no different than Chase would walk with anyone else.
"Dr. House we're having a problem," Jasper told him.
"Well, I'm sure you two kids can work it out. Have you tried couples therapy?" House asked. Jasper remained unruffled, but House noticed Chase look away uncomfortably. Interesting.
"A problem with our patients," Jasper said, exasperated. "We can't get the MRI."
"No way Cuddy puts off an MRI on these two," House said. "Go see her; she'll take care of it."
"House," Chase interjected. "They won't fit."
"What do you mean, they won't fit? They're little," House said.
"We can't get just Joyanna's head in the MRI. We can't do the test on the both of them, its messing up the images." Chase said, annoyed.
"What about the portable MRI?" House asked.
"What about it?" Jasper returned.
"It's smaller and it's more open. Try that, you might be able to get her in there," House suggested. Chase and Jasper turned and walked off down the hall. House watched for a minute as Chase leaned in and spoke quietly to Jasper. House smirked and walked into his office. He slid the papers into his desk and sat down, waiting for the results. He pulled out his Gameboy and worked on getting Lightning McQueen past Chic.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
House wandered to the patients room and stood outside the glass, watching. The twins were sleeping. Their parents, as exhausted as House had even seen anyone look, stood over the crib watching them intently. House took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Secretly, very secretly, he hated baby cases. For some reason, watching an infant dying prompted even more introspection than normal. He knew that Wilson would tell him it was good he was still able to care about another person, but House wasn't sure that had anything to do with it. Foreman interrupted his thoughts, signaling to House from down the hall. House shoved himself off the wall and limped toward the neurologist.
"What took so long?" House asked. "Did you forget what all the buttons did?"
"It took us forty five minutes just to get her in the machine. We had to sedate them; they couldn't keep still enough. Then we had to strap them to a backboard and tip them sideways. It took Chase, Cameron, Jasper and two nurses to hold them still enough to finish the scan," Foreman explained. The two entered House's office, where Foreman put up the MRI images. As House and Foreman studied the MRI, Chase, Cameron and Jasper filed in behind them, closely followed by Cuddy and Wilson. House turned to Foreman and noticed the crowd forming behind him.
"Did I forget my birthday again?" House asked. "Sweet of you to throw a party, but it's a little inappropriate, these girls are very sick." Cuddy rolled her eyes in exasperation, and House noticed she too looked very tired. Cameron and Wilson also both gave him an annoyed look.
"It looks vascular," Foreman said. "It's not a tumor, it's a clot. The pressure is causing her symptoms."
"That's great," Cuddy said. "Clots are easy. We'll just remove it."
"Not so easy, the clot is huge and it looks like there's some weakening of the vessel surrounding it. Removing it could kill her," Foreman replied.
"Not removing it could kill both of them," Cameron said. "We have to remove the clot. If we wait too long this family could lose both their girls."
"What we have to do," House said, "is present the family with our findings and let them decide what they want to do."
"Since when do you care what the family wants!" Cameron exploded. "You know that if Joyanna's clot ruptures and she dies, they'll never be able to separate them in enough time. Tanita's blood will still be trying to pump through her sister's body and they'll both die. Joyanna won't survive the separation surgery with that clot. There is no option; we have to remove the clot." Cameron was nearly screaming at House, and the others looked on in confusion. Certainly, Cameron was always concerned about the patients, but she normally only shouted when House suggested something insane. What House had suggested was perfectly reasonable.
"Cameron, this isn't our call. The parents need to understand the risks. If we try to remove the clot and Joyanna doesn't make, we'll be killing both of them."
"So you're saying we shouldn't even try? We should just tell the parents that no matter what, one of their girls is going to die, probably both of them?" Cameron was definitely shouting now, and House suspected this had less to do with Joyanna and Tanita themselves and more to do with Cameron not wanting to watch another baby die.
"Cameron, you're being irrational. We'll present all the options to the parents and let them decide what to do." House said, his voice low and calm.
"There has to be another way!" Cameron screamed at him.
"Just because you can't have a baby doesn't mean it's your mission in life to save every sick baby that comes into this hospital!" House shouted back. Wilson cringed. House watched all the emotion drain from Cameron's face; he looked as her eyes, which just seconds before had been filled with tears, dried. It was like watching your neighbor's house while they got ready for bed. Cameron systematically shut everything down. She was disconnecting, from him and everyone else. Most of the group shuffled their feet and stared at either the floor or the ceiling in embarrassment. They weren't sure what was going on, but it seemed a little more personal than they were meant to hear. Wilson looked physically pained. Cameron turned and walked into the conference room. They all watched her pick up her bag and jacket and walk out the door.