Chapter two, more will follow soon. Please enjoy and review when you have a spare moment!

Chapter Two: Differential Diagnosis, people

Completely lost in thought, House walked into the hospital and automatically stepped into the elevator. On his way there he tried to think about the diseases that could cause the symptoms of this Kreager guy but the pain and the lack of Vicodin had brought him no further than a ruptured tonsil. The elevator stopped, and House couldn't resist a small smile when he saw his ducklings already sitting straight up, tense in their chairs. Even after three years they still think I can make their life less miserable. He opened the glass door to his conference room and came in like he always did - with a bang.

"Well, hello, my little pests." He glanced at the files in the hands of Foreman, Chase and Cameron. "You probably already figured out what the guy has. Shoot." The three doctors stayed anxiously quiet. House penetrated his glare towards three pairs of eyes but got no response. Something was up. He kept his gaze locked on Cameron knowing she would be the first to crack. He opened his mouth to ask her what was going on, when he suddenly deduced the answer from her face. Normally she would look back at him or just simply kept busy with whatever she was doing before he came in, but now her eyes shifted between him and something behind him. When Cameron noticed House was still looking at her, she moved her eyes to the file in her hands again. Curious about what his duckling was looking at, House turned his head 180 degrees. The sight in front of him dazzled him. Not something but someone kept their attention: Wilson was standing in the middle of House's office with his hands on his hips, looking directly at him; he was thoroughly pissed.

House turned back and tried to keep a straight face while he subtly swallowed the lump in his throat.

"Since when is it so strange the Head of Oncology from next door is standing in my office? He's not the one who is dying here, Mr. Vesuvius is." House walked up towards the whiteboard and wrote something down with the marker: haemoptysis (spitting blood).

"He's a smoker. Could be lung carcinoma." Chase was the first to recover, but not with the best opening move.

"He's 26, no way he has lung cancer, or he must have been smoking since he was six years old." House let out a theatrical sigh after Foreman's comment.

"At least someone uses his brain. Cameron?" The aforementioned immunologist looked up and started babbling about her specialty of course: auto-immune. House's thoughts strayed towards the window of his office again. Wilson still stood in the same position as the first time, but his face had become slightly less red. House tried to think of an escape plan but was shocked out of his trance when someone called his name.

"House! Did you hear anything I said?" Cameron had her arms crossed. Beautiful. She's pissy Just what I need. House pushed his mind back to his patient.

"Yeah yeah, auto-immune for the win right? Well, here's the big shocker: it's almost never auto- immune. Told you, you should have become an gynecologist."

"She's right House, it could be Wegener's." House switched his gaze from Cameron to Foreman. His mind starting working in overdrive. Inflammation and infiltrations of the tractus respiratorius. Inflammation could cause high pressure of the lungs with its alveoli which could cause haemoptysis. House snapped out of his diagnostic thoughts and nodded.

"Okay, get a biopsy. Chase said the most stupid diagnosis of the century, so he can't say anything anymore. Foreman, another suggestion?" Chase opened his mouth to protest House's argument but got interrupted by his colleague.

"Could be a regular pneumonia. Probably viral."

"Good, check his blood for viruses. And Chase, you are going to give his home a little visit. Now go. Head of Oncology, remember?" House reinforced his statement with a gesture of his free hand towards the door. His employees stood up and exited like he requested, leaving him alone in the conference room. House quickly glared towards his office only the see his friend still there. With a deep sigh he walked towards the door to his office and towards a probably fierce discussion. Why did I pick the most moral guy of the whole universe to be my friend?

--

Chase had slammed the file closed and stood to do what he was ordered to do by the biggest asshole on the planet. It still amazed him why the man could still live with those manners of his. When he saw the hatred spilling from the eyes of so many patients and their families when House 'visited' them only to scold at them for being so stupid, it seemed a miracle nobody had murdered him till now. Okay, nobody had succeeded at murdering him. Not that he would die anyway; ill weeds grow apace, after all.
While he was muttering to himself about how fucked up his life was, he was held up by the other mystery his head was filled with: Cameron. Did she like him? Did she like House? Is she just a smart woman with a dumb face or a dumb one with a smart face? If he would ever figure Allison Cameron out, he would become gay.

"Chase, wait!" He held his pace and turned around.

"What is it? Want to rub the fact in my face that I have to do the stupid job and you can do your damn biopsy?" Cameron was perplexed with the reaction of the doctor in front of her.

"You're not really offended by the way House treated you, are you? He's always like that, within an hour he will be mad at Foreman and after that he will make a comment about Cuddy's dresses while he makes a joke only Wilson understands, and I will fit into the picture too somehow. You know the drill." Chase had to admit, she was right, but he wasn't in the mood for it at all. He made an attempt to get away when she stopped him by holding his shoulder.

"What's wrong Robert? You're so different lately. You're grumpy, you show up late most of the time, you're not paying attention to what's said to you… you are short of diagnoses when we have a patient." After hearing her out, Chase released himself from Cameron's grip.

"You're not perfect either, you know. Just leave me be. Bye, Allison." He walked hard to avoid the continuous babbling of her. Of course he was different but she didn't need to know. No one did. It was best that they didn't. They didn't need to know that he… Almost running now he reached his car and drove towards his millionth break-in of his career.

--

When House limped into his office, Wilson didn't make a sound. Instead, he watched the crippled man in front of him as he moved to his chair slowly. He noticed the abnormal gait was still present and maybe even worse than Saturday. The sight softened his anger. When House finally dropped himself into the chair, he placed his elbows on the table and made an attempt to begin the conversation without looking into Wilson's eyes.

"So…You want to switch from the L Word to Sex and the City tonight?" Goodbye, softness. Wilson moved towards the other side of the desk in a second so that he now stood next to the chair House was sitting in. He turned him hard so they could face each other. The chair didn't make a nice turn but moved slightly to the right which resulted in a crash of House's right leg onto the table leg. A muffled scream followed.

"Son of a b… Was that necessary?!" House looked up but was surprised at the unrepentant look Wilson gave back. Instead of a sincere apology, Wilson shot back, "I'm so sorry, why don't you take some Vicodin? Let me grab them for you." Wilson reached towards House's jacket pocket but was caught-off halfway by a firm grab.

"Stop it." Wilson pushed the hand away, which was a easy task today because House hadn't much strength at the moment. He moved along searching both pockets but surprisingly found neither bottles nor pills. His eyes grew wide.

"You stopped?!" When House didn't react but turned away, Wilson walked towards the empty chair and let himself drop onto it while letting the news sank in.

"I..I thought you were taking too much. I guess I'm wrong." With that, Wilson stood up and headed towards the door.

"What? That's it? No lecture about responsibilities, friendships, relations, addicts? Not even interested in my feelings?" Wilson didn't turn back but bowed his head while keeping the door handle in his hand.

"You won't tell me anything near the truth. You'll just pump my brain full of acerbic tales so that I can leave unworried, like I don't see through them. From all the talk I have to endure from you, ninety-nine percent is bullshit or at the very least highly exaggerated. That one percent left used to be enough for me. I can't do it anymore." Wilson did turn back now so House could see for himself that he was serious about this.

"You are the only focus, it's always about you. For years I ignored the comments about you being selfish and hard. I can see now those are all right."

"What?! You are only basing that stuff on the fact that I lessened my dosage without telling you? I don't want to bother you with it, is that so selfish?" House just couldn't get the point Wilson was making.

"You know just as well as I do that isn't the reason why you didn't tell me! It's only to avoid discussions that get too personal. Really, it's unbelievable; we talk about you all the time but it never gets personal. You're the only one who can realize that. I always ask about those things, but I never get a straight answer. You probably babble something about 'it's getting too expensive' or 'my grandma ate them' or some other crap. So why bother?" Silence followed. With a sigh, Wilson continued.

"You got one chance, House. Or you're going to tell me the truth or I'm out of here." House opened his mouth to speak. Just say it! His thoughts were so loud he was afraid Wilson would hear them. He had to say it. Now. But it would ruin everything. Say it. Don't say it. Say it! Hmm, think think. Ah!

"I didn't stop, I forgot to refill them and to put them in my pocket. You know how I am when I'm watching..you know.. channel 73." House rolled his eyes to underscore his fabrication. Wilson stared at him for a while and let out a couple of big sighs.

"I should have known. How stupid of me to think such noble things of you." Wilson gestured with his hand. "I had this little hope you really stopped but no. Just…" With another sigh he left the room and heading towards his own.

The door slammed shut. "Wilson!" House tried to stand up and walk after his friend, but when he stood up, the curtains closed around him and his world became black. No, not now. But nothing could be stopped. He dropped back onto his chair and left the conscious world again.

--

"House! House!" He jolted awake. He looked around to see where he was. In his office stood Foreman, with one eyebrow curled up.

"Were you asleep?" Instead of answering he searched for the time.

"How long have I been out.. asleep?"

"It's 3 pm." Foreman ignored the strange look House gave him and continued, handing a file over.

"Results were negative. The patient has no viral pneumonia." House browsed through the file.

"So much for the easy way out." When he didn't find anything interested in the file, he stood up.

"Call the others to come back."

"Wait! Where are you going?" Foreman didn't get an answer and had to watch House limping out of the office and out of sight. With a sigh he went searching for the others.

As much as his leg would cooperate, House walked through the whole hospital, pushing open almost every door he could see. Wilson was nowhere to be found. Not in his office, not in the lounge, not at his balcony, not in the ER, not at the parking space. He also didn't pick up his phone. Reluctantly he walked towards the only place he had been hiding through his hunt: Cuddy's office. He pushed open the first door and without knocking stormed into the room.

Even though Cuddy was used to this bursts, she still jumped a little in her too-large-chair when her favorite but also least favorite doctor suddenly stood in front of her.

"Good afternoon, Your Honor. Who'll you put behind bars for 10 years today?" Cuddy realized he was making a joke about her judge-like black blazer and skirt and underneath a white blouse. In the meanwhile, House had managed to sit down and locked his eyes on an object his hand was reaching. Cuddy grabbed the first thing she could find and hit the top of his hand with the stapler.

"Ouch!"

"You are pleading guilty! You will now be convicted to a life sentence of serving me and stop stealing stuff." This earned her a smile from House.

"Okay, I confess. Does that mean I need to follow you in your bed to serve you in all your needs?" Cuddy put on a disgusting face.

"Oh come on, I know you'll like it. Love it even." House eyes sparkled a little, a rare phenomenon Cuddy rarely saw him doing. Lately they even became non-existent. She snapped out of her thoughts.

"What are you doing her, House? You miss the clinic? Hmm, let's see, I can make you happy then because you still have 292 hours left there." An evil grin appeared on her face.

"I lost Wilson."

"So?"

"He's mad at me and I don't want to be sued when he jumps off a bridge with a note in his pocket which says I killed him."

"He will come around. What were you arguing about?" Cuddy tried to hide the curiosity by keeping her straight face.

"Well he said Dr. Bork looks gay, and I didn't like that, so I told him to shut his mouth and stop talking blasphemy and then he didn't want to play with me anymore and he left." With sad, big eyes, a pouted face and his hands folded upon his cane, he looked towards Cuddy. She in turn only smiled and shook her head.

"Buy him a candy bar then or something. If there's nothing else: leave before I lock you up in exam room one." House acted like he believed her and stumbled out of the chair. His leg couldn't handle the weight that was on it again and bended down deep while taking the rest of House with it. Cuddy ran around her desk and kneeled down next to House who was now lying in a strange position.

"Are you okay?" She helped him up and put him down onto the couch in her office.

"I'm fine. Tripped over the carpet or something." He immediately started rubbing his thigh while avoiding eye contact with Cuddy. She placed her hand on top of his busy hand which made him turn around and looking at her.

"Okay." Both knew she didn't believe a crap of the excuse House had just told her but they were both too comfortable in their position that neither wanted to end the moment and start fighting again. They realized their faces were only inches apart but their thoughts were harshly interrupted by the door being pushed open. They turned their heads towards the intruder.

"Our patient coded."