Scrolling through her recent calls, Remy found the number she didn't expect to use again so soon. Listening to the rings, she hoped he'd still be in his office at six in the evening. "Hello?"
"Ch-Robert. This is Remy Hadley."
"Oh hello, Remy," he said. "How's it going? Any idea when you're going to get rid of House?"
"Actually...we're not. For some reason, he decided this morning he wants to do his in-patient treatment here."
"Oh!" The surprise was evident in his voice. "I guess we should have seen that coming."
"How do you mean?" she asked.
"Well, you know how he always has to keep the upper hand. Lying in a hospital bed, unable to even shower without help, would be pretty demeaning for him."
"So he'd rather go through that surrounded by a bunch of strangers?"
"In his mind, that's better than the colleagues he's spent the last twenty years alienating. Besides, not everyone at Faulkner is a stranger."
"I think I would fit into the category of people he's tried to alienate," she pointed out. "He certainly likes to keep the upper hand on me."
"Don't be so sure," Chase said quietly. "When you left the hospital, how much notice did you give him?"
"Two days. I know it's supposed to be two weeks, but he said it was okay."
"And for those two days, he didn't try any harder than usual to make you miserable?"
She thought back. "Not that I remember..."
He chuckled. "You'd remember. Do you know why he let you go so easily?"
"Because he didn't like me very much?"
"No. Because he understood. He saw that Foreman and everything at Princeton-Plainsboro was suffocating you, and he wanted to help you get away. Have you ever known House to keep a secret just because someone asked him to?"
"Once..." she whispered.
"Right. He didn't tell the team, especially Foreman, that you were leaving." Remy remembered the note she left him that morning. Thanks for not broadcasting news of my resignation. "You know, after you left, Kutner came to me with a concern about House. He though he was taking too much Vicodin, more than usual. It took me a while, but I realized it was because you were gone. He doesn't do change well. It's not surprising that his leg pain got worse after a team member left, but it is surprising that he let you go like that. I know the twisted logic doesn't make much sense...but he did it for you."
"Wow," she said quietly. "I guess at the time, I thought he was letting me leave because...he knew I wouldn't be able to work much longer."
"That's not how he does things." Chase was silent, and she knew she'd shocked him with the blunt reference to her disease. Finally, he said, "Did Foreman tell you about the time he almost died after he caught something from a patient?"
"Yeah, how he tried to get Cameron sick too, then she made some impossible decision just as House solved the case."
"She chose to operate on his brain. The outcome was not as bad as it could have been, but he had some left-right reversal and short-term memory issues for a while. As much as House played up the irony of a brain-damaged neurologist, he never seriously considered firing him. Turns out House has a soft spot for people who might seem disadvantaged. If Princeton-Plainsboro had been the best place for you, he would have kept you on as long as you were physically able to be there."
"I don't know what he would have done, but since he's been here he's been as angry and closed-off as ever. Worse, even."
"He's hurting, Remy. Whatever happened between him and Wilson, now the months of living with even less mobility and more pain..."
She sighed. "I know." They sat in contemplative silence for a moment, then she said, "Anyway, I just wanted to tell you not to expect him there anytime soon."
"Yeah, thanks for letting me know. And if you need anything, please, call me."
"Thanks. It might help to have somebody who knows him to bounce ideas off."
"Or just vent," Chase laughed. "Bye, Remy."
She shut the phone and leaned back on the playground swing she'd chosen as her hide-out for nice days. Moore Park, a block from Faulkner, was rarely crowded, especially as the seasons shifted toward winter. She attracted a few strange looks sitting on a children's swing in hospital scrubs, but it wasn't worth taking the time to change out of them.
Kicking off the ground and swinging back and forth lightly, she thought about what Chase said. She'd never admitted it before, even to herself, but she'd really thought House let her go so easily because he knew her disease was likely to start affecting her work soon. Surely it wasn't because he'd actually considered how she felt. While she was at PPTH, he seemed to enjoy nothing more than causing problems between her and Eric - so why would he suddenly start helping her keep a secret from him to prevent an argument? Now that Chase pointed it out, though, it made sense that he understood. After all, she understood how he felt; why he hated pity and attention. It even made sense to her that he didn't want to go back to Princeton-Plainsboro injured and helpless. His ever-important distance would be hard to maintain when he needed help with the simplest of tasks. Would he be lonely here, though? Not any more than he would be at PPTH. The thought made her inexplicably sad. His isolation was by his own choice, wasn't it? Maybe he just doesn't know how not to be lonely. She scoffed at herself. Of course, all House wants is friends. This is crazy. But she rose from the swing and slipped her phone in the pocket of her scrubs. Not quite sure yet what she was going to do, she headed toward the hospital.
*******************
"What?" he nearly growled, and she could hear a slight curiosity in his voice. Nurses never knocked, and there was no one he expected to visit.
She pushed open his door. "How's your leg feeling?"
"Sunshine and rainbows." He rolled his eyes, but there was no anger in his face, so she came closer and pulled a lap table over his bed. "What are you doing?"
Setting down the box in her hand, she said, "Chess?" She held her breath, knowing there was a good chance he'd bite her head off.
A suspicious glare. "Is this going to end in you interrogating me again?"
"No," she promised. "Just thought you'd be bored, and my previous boss taught me that any excuse to avoid working should be exploited to its full potential."
He cracked an actual smile, just for a second, and began setting up the pieces. "Sounds like a wise man." Board arranged, he nodded at her to make the first move.
They played in focused silence for a few minutes, then she asked, "Have you been to the PT clinic yet?"
He froze, hand on a rook. "I thought this was an interrogation-free game."
"Sorry, didn't realize friendly conversation counted."
He ignored the second statement. "I went down after lunch, just for my initial evaluation." In order to avoid over-questioning him, she waited for him to speak again. "All they came up with is that I'm one messed up son of a bitch."
"Who's your doctor?"
"Randall. Please tell me he's not a total crock."
"No, he's good." And he might almost have the patience to deal with you. He was acting shockingly civil at the moment, so she left the though unspoken. The room grew comfortably quiet again, and Remy tried to concentrate on the game. She hadn't actually played chess in who-knows-how-long, and before long, she caught a dangerous spark in House's eye. Great. Sure enough, three moves later he slid a bishop into position and looked up, triumphant. "Checkmate."
She pretended to study the board, but if he said she was beaten, she believed him. "You win," she said, and he reached out and tipped over her king. "But I want a rematch tomorrow."
His laugh was almost real, and the sound was a relief to her. "I could have beaten you ten minutes ago, but I wanted to make you feel like you had a chance."
"Right," she scoffed, knowing it was probably true. After rearranging the pieces in the box, she slid it onto a shelf next to his bed.
"So, really," he said. "Why are you only an attending doctor in the ER here?" She paused, not sure why he was asking. "You could have easily gotten a department head position here or at another hospital. You know, a fellowship with the great Gregory House looks good on a resume, along with Cuddy's and my recommendations."
She shrugged. "Maybe power and prestige isn't everybody's dream."
"Yeah, some people love working shift schedules and hanging out in a chaotic mess of broken bones, M.V.A.s, and heart attacks."
Why is he pushing this question? Meeting his eyes, she realized he already knew the reason she hadn't tried for a higher position. Of course, that son of a bitch. How can someone with so little regard for human emotions understand them so easily? She sighed and ran a hand through her hair. "Fine, House. You win. I didn't want to become a department head because...those jobs are better filled by someone who can do them for more than a few years."
She didn't want to see the satisfaction on his face at her admission, but there was none when he nodded slightly. "But you're still fine. It's been three years."
"I'm in a new clinical trial...but we both know it's just a matter of time. One year, five years, ten years. No matter how good I feel now, the medical facts don't change. My body is still breaking down slowly." The heavy sadness in his eyes startled her, and she realized she was describing both their situations. They were both dying - her by genetics, him by addiction. His gaze met hers, and she knew he was thinking the same. The difference is, he could do something about it.
She jumped when a nurse entered and began preparing his bed to be moved. "I'm going to take you down for your last CT scan, Greg."
It struck Remy as odd to hear the nurse call him by his first name. Not even Wilson and Cuddy did that. "CT scan?" She didn't remember any significant head trauma.
"After the bus crash, they have to make sure..." House explained, not quite meeting her eyes. He seemed still shaken by her description of her future, or his. She stood to follow, but he scowled. "I think radiology can handle a CT." Seeing her settle back into the chair, he said, "Go home, Thirteen. I know your shift's over by now, you're done avoiding work."
She knew when not to push it, and she noticed he'd kicked her out in an uncharacteristically nice manner. "All right. See you tomorrow, House." She was halfway out of the room before he grunted a quiet goodbye.