A/N: Finally, something I can cross off of my "story ideas that need to be started/finished" list. One down, ten more to go.
This one's dedicated to Asteria, because her suggestion of House having a quote-off with a patient was the inspiration for the chapter. The muse made it take a strange (i.e., not humorous) turn at the end, however, so I'm not sure how much you'll enjoy it.
Feedback: Is love. A big thank you goes out to everyone who's reviewed this story and the prequel. I hope to hear from all of you again soon!
Wilson was never in his office when House needed him the most. His search for the oncologist took him through the cafeteria and by the nurse's station before finally finding him in a patient's room, starting what looked to be a new round of chemotherapy. He spared a quick glance at the patient—bald, female, late teens—before turning back to Wilson. "You weren't in your office," he said accusingly.
His friend just rolled his eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry, I forgot that I'm supposed to be at your beck and call. Never mind the fact that I have patients,"—he gestured toward the girl in the bed, who was looking at them with equal parts confusion and amusement—"something you couldn't really understand—"
"Hey! Diagnostics has patients. Maybe not as many as you, but they're patients nonetheless. In fact, that's why I'm here—we need you to rule out cancer."
Wilson just looked at him. "And the fact that I'm with a patient apparently means nothing to you?"
House scoffed. "Is she dying?"
A voice came from behind them. "Quite possibly."
"Claudia!" Wilson admonished. "I thought we said you weren't going to talk like that. There are still plenty of options available."
The girl—Claudia, apparently—shrugged. "I promised I wouldn't just give up. It's still entirely possible that I could die. I'm not going to get my hopes up, either."
House nodded, a small grin on his face. "A realist. I like it." He turned back to the oncologist. "Let me amend my statement—is she dying right now? Cause I have a guy who's going down hill faster than a moss-collecting stone rolling down a slippery slope." He paused. "And I think I just really mixed up my metaphors."
Claudia giggled and Wilson sighed, a small smile just starting to quirk up the corners of his lips. "One problem: I'm starting Claudia on a new type of treatment, and I need to stay here to monitor her for any adverse reactions."
House quickly waved away his concerns. "So I stay with her. Problem solved." Off Wilson's disbelieving look, he exclaimed, "What? I may not like it, but I do know how to monitor a patient. I didn't become head of Diagnostics on my good looks alone, you know."
Wilson looked over at the teen. "Would you be okay with that, Claudia?"
She nodded. "Go—I'll be fine. Besides," she said, turning her gaze to House, "I'm intrigued."
Finally convinced, Wilson left, instructing House to page him immediately if anything happened. The moment he was no longer in sight House sprawled out in the chair beside Claudia's bed, reaching for the remote for the TV tucked away in the corner. "Time for General Hospital."
Claudia stared at him. "You watch soap operas?"
"Hey," he said, pointing the remote at her, "don't diss the guy who's supposed to save your life if you stop breathing."
The teen looked at him as if she wasn't sure whether to be scared or laugh. Success. He started to turn toward the TV, but before he could press any buttons he noticed the stuffed teddy bear sitting innocuously on the bedside table. It wasn't the colorful, tacky picture of Buddha displayed on its shirt that caught his attention—it was the quote that accompanied it. "Dear Buddha, please send me a pony, and a plastic rocket, and…"
He picked it up to study it more closely. "Nice bear."
Her eyes lit up at the statement. "You're a Browncoat?"
"Of course. All the smart people are."
Seemingly ecstatic at finding another Firefly fan, Claudia chattered on. "Oh my God, my friends and I love that show. We all have the DVDs and watch them all the time. I think I have the episodes memorized."
House looked at her from the corner of his eye. "Really." He thought for a moment, then spoke again. "Dear Diary—today I was pompous and my sister was crazy."
Claudia laughed. "I love that entire speech of Jayne's. It's from Safe."
"Everyone loves that one. Next up—My food is problematic."
She replied without hesitation. "River, in The Message."
"Okay. Those were easy. No messing around this time. How about this one—Won't deal with me direct. Taken an irrational dislike."
Again, no hesitation. "Badger, in Shindig. And that was supposed to be hard?"
House frowned, sensing the challenge in her voice. He was never one to back off, not ever for bald little cancer patients. This girl was going down.
By the time Wilson got back, House was 0 for 6.
Three weeks into their little tête-à-tête she was finishing the quotes for him. He found her in one of the hospital's courtyards, enjoying the unseasonably warm weather. "My God, you're like a trained ape! Without—"
Claudia didn't miss a beat. "—without the training. No, apes are noble creatures; you're some sort of man-ape-thing that went horribly wrong."
Spinning on his heel, House stiffly limped back into the building, grumbling all the way.
"Better luck next time!" Claudia called out, grinning.
Two weeks later he was playing dirty. He spied her resting on a bench on the second floor balcony, people-watching from the secluded position, and went in for the kill. "Brothers and sisters don't get married…"
"Well, they do on some planets," Claudia finished, "but those planets are really bad." She laughed. "What, House, did you think I didn't watch the outtakes?"
She laughed even harder when he swore and turned around, brushing by Foreman in his haste. He glanced at the teen. "Get him again?"
When she nodded, he smirked and gave her a high-five.
Another week, and House was desperate. He found her in her room, looking a little paler than normal but sitting up and reading a book. "The 'Hero of Canton' song. Sing it."
Claudia looked up from her book, a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth. "Too bad I don't have my guitar with me—then I could play it for you too."
He froze, staring at her with wide eyes. "You can play the song?"
She shrugged. "I play the guitar, and one day I was messing around online and found a site where someone had transcribed the chords. Didn't take much after that."
House stood there in silent contemplation. He didn't have any of his instruments at work, but if he could slip away…"I'll be right back," he said, and disappeared into the hall.
A few hours later Wilson was drawn to Claudia's room by music and a cacophony of voices. He poked his head in.
House was sitting by Claudia's bed, guitars in both of their hands, with Chase, Foreman, and Cameron sprawled in various chairs. They were all laughing and singing—something about a man named Jayne? He just smiled and left them to their song.
Claudia wasn't reading when House strolled into her room the next week. She was just laying in bed, listless and tired, the dark shadows under her eyes accentuating how thin she'd gotten. He sat down heavily next to her and was quiet for a few moments.
"We're not gonna die. We can't die, Bendis. You know why?"
The teen gave him a watery smile. "Because we are so. Very. Pretty. We are just too pretty for God—" Her voice broke. "For God to let us die." A pause. "Thank you."
"No problem." He pulled out his portable DVD player, and they spent the rest of the afternoon watching their favorite movie, ignoring the real world.
An empty bed greeted House the next morning. A woman was standing next to it, staring blankly into the small cardboard box she was holding. "When?"
Startled, the woman glanced up at him. "Last night, around midnight." She took a shaky breath and wiped her eyes, then walked over to him, still cradling the box. "I'm Claudia's mom. You must be Doctor House. She was always talking about you. The cancer made her miss college and spend a year and a half bouncing in and out of hospitals, but for the past two months she'd been happier than I'd seen her in a long time. And that was because of you."
He looked at his feet, uncomfortable. "I didn't do anything…"
She shook her head violently, eyes shining. "Yes. Yes, you did, and I'll never be able to repay you for that." She started rummaging through the box she held. "Before I forget—there was something Claudia wanted you to have…" She finally found the object and held it out to him.
It was the bear with Buddha on its shirt.
House sat in his darkened office, staring at the bear in his hands. The thing was tacky and gaudy—like the doctor teddy bear figurine of Wilson's that he'd mocked a while back, then thrown in the trash.
He wondered how long it had taken before Wilson had fished it out.
There was a noise at the door, and he looked up to see the doctor in question. "Don't say a word," he muttered, voice gruffer than usual.
Wilson shook his head. "I wasn't going to, House."
He sat there a moment longer, eyeing the cheap stuffed animal, before carefully setting it down on his desk, right beside his giant red ball.
The bear never left his office again.