Author's Note - Hopefully this is going at the right speed for you; if it feels like it's dragging on (or going too fast!) just review and let me know...enjoy!

House sat in the wheelchair waiting for his CT scan; he had protested while in the conference room but Cuddy had insisted, after watching him struggle to even stand without retching, that he 'sit the hell down'. She felt bad enough not checking him over when he finally came to the previous night; now there was the prospect of possible bleeding in his brain…well lets just say she was pleased he was in the hospital and not at home, at least his infuriating actions had lead him to be stuck there.

He and Foreman had been waiting for ten minutes in the hallway already, Foreman could see by House's posture that he was tired, nauseous and in more pain than usual; he had his eyes squeezed shut, held his head in his hands and was resting his elbows on the armrests of the chair.

Foreman was pretty sure that the head in hands part was purely so nobody would recognise him and try to talk to him – 'smart move, save Cuddy having to calm the nurses down at the end of the day after House has ripped them apart with sarcasm' he thought to himself.

"Get Wilson here." House said, breaking the silence that had been delicately maintained so far by the Neurologist. When Foreman didn't reply House spoke again "don't want some greasy intern staring at the contents of my head – got private stuff in there..."

"Sure, I'll page him." Foreman said lightly; knowing full well that House wanted his best friend there for support but was never going to admit that to him…or himself.

"Find out if the blood work is back for Andrew too." House added.

"Yes master." Foreman muttered under his breath as he walked over to the nurse's station to make the relevant calls; he was glad House didn't see the shocked face he had put on when he realised that House actually called a patient by his name – maybe there was some really serious brain damage to be found!

Meanwhile in Andrew's hospital room…

Andrew sat in his hospital bed, monitors beeping, I.V steadily dripping and O2 being pumped up through his nose. He was pretty lonely and wished that he had a room that he shared with someone – anyone would do. He had enjoyed talking to Dr Chase and Dr Cameron; it felt like days, not hours, had gone by since the time they'd left.

He didn't want to watch the T.V; it was something he had managed to get by without for the past 4 years and he was sure there was nothing on there that he wanted to see.

He'd watched some crap yesterday and laughed about it with Dr House who'd told him to take the set with him when he was discharged and that the hospital administrator wouldn't notice but Andrew was pretty sure that amounted to theft even though House tried to convince him otherwise.

He wondered if Dr House was angry with him for not telling him that his dad was violent maybe that's why he hadn't been back to see him; he really hadn't thought that his dad would have hit a cripple, let alone a cripple who was trying to help his son.

He thought back to home and briefly wondered where his dad was now; 'probably going through my room trying to find my stash of money' Andrew thought to himself, 'never going to happen again, after the last time when you took my bank card and the money mom had left me before she died' he thought angrily as he purposefully pulled the pulse ox monitor off of his finger causing two nurses to run in looking alarmed.

"Sorry, must have slipped off – got time for a chat while you're here?" He asked, putting on his best cheeky grin; the nurses couldn't resist his charm and agreed to stay for a while.

Meanwhile at a small house about 6 miles away from PPTH…

Neil Howard was scrambling through his son's bedroom searching for cash; he had managed to completely demolish nearly everything in the room, books, his son's acoustic guitar, even his shoebox full of letter from his brother. He knew that Andrew's older brother had been sending him money on a regular basis and he knew that is wasn't small change either. He needed that money.

He was drunk, angry and scared. 'Why did that idiot doctor make me hit him – why didn't he just shut his damn mouth?' he thought as he tore at the hundreds of books on the bookshelf and threw them on the floor after checking each for any notes that may have been slipped in between the pages. "Where the hell is the money you little rat?" he shouted to the picture of Matthew that Andrew had on his window sill.

Howard hadn't always been like this; it took getting thrown out of the marines, having his wife die of an inoperable brain tumour and finding out she had left her entire life savings to her eldest son for him to break. The day she had found out he had been having an affair while she was ill was the day she went out and changed her policy so that when her eldest son, Matthew, was old enough he would have access to her entire life savings and Neil wouldn't get one penny.

She hadn't mentioned this to Neil while she was alive so naturally he went mad when he found out what she'd done and he threw Matthew out at the age of 16 but got stuck with his younger brother, Andrew, who was aged 10 at the time of his mom's death.

It was from that day Andrew vowed to move out as soon as he was able to; Matthew had been sending him money to make the trip as soon as he reached breaking point with their dad but no sooner. Matthew knew that Andrew was better off with his dad at least until he left school, he couldn't look after his younger brother and be in the army at the same time; however, he was unaware that Andrew had been suffering in his dads care for the past year as he became more and more aggressive and desperate.

Neil Howard was desperate today; he'd beaten up a doctor last night and he was certain that the police would be after him, he had to leave town, and his son, tonight.

But he needed that damn money to do it; he'd have to go back to the hospital to get it…

Back at PPTH…

Wilson had been a little surprised to get the page from Foreman requesting his assistance with a patient in Radiology; he didn't have any patients who would be there, unless House did…'House, shit.'

He sprinted down to Radiology and almost tripped over his friend who was waiting just inside the door of the CT room, still seated uncomfortably in his wheelchair with his head planted almost on his lap.

"What happened – you ok?" Wilson said breathlessly as he managed to stop himself from falling by placing his hands on the wall opposite him.

"Did you run here?" House said questioningly, not even attempting to look up at Wilson's flushed appearance which would have answered his question straight away.

"I thought-it was-an emergency!" Wilson panted, whilst still managing to sound annoyed.

"Do you regularly get calls from Radiology when there's an emergency…are they short staffed or something?" House asked, trying to hide the fact that he was pretty impressed that Wilson had come running to see if he was ok – it was a nice moral boost.

Wilson shot Foreman an accusing glance, "I thought you needed help." Foreman just shrugged and rolled his eyes; pleased that, for once, the ever observant House was unable to see his non verbal communication methods – it was a nice change he thought.

Wilson helped get House settled ready for the scan; he was certain it wasn't normal for someone to turn so green when they were laid on their back, his musings were rewarded when House threw up all down his front.

"Could have given me a little heads up there."

"Hard to talk when the room flips like that – besides you're an Oncologist, you should be used to it by now."

"Good point – doesn't mean I like it though."

"News flash – I'm not too keen on throwing up every five minutes either." House groaned as he squeezed his eyes shut again.

Wilson retired into the small booth to observe the scans with Foreman as they started the procedure...