"Puppet Master"
Chapter Five -"Playing the Part"
By : Purpleu
House stepped outside the hospital and moved toward the benches to his left. He fiddled with his cell phone as he sat down, pressing the speed dial button for Lydia, "B.B.B." Wilson was right; he needed to hear her voice. Putting the phone up to his ear, he listened as the rings went by: one, two, three…He was about to hang up and try again when finally the call was answered.
"Hello," said a sultry female voice, "Joe's Massage Parlor; leave your body in our hands." House hesitated for a split second then broke into a wide grin as he started chuckling.
"Anytime, if they're your hands. By the way, do you take requests?" There was a gasp at the other end.
"And what would your girlfriend have to say about this?" House got a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.
"She won't care. She's become a real career woman, going on one interview after another. She's completely abandoned me."
"What? I have…I mean she has not…I…" House laughed as the voice on the phone returned to Lydia's normal speaking voice. "Gregory House, you are incorrigible!"
"So I've been told; more than once in the past two days." He went silent for a moment as he became serious. "Thanks, I needed to laugh," House said quietly looking down at the ground.
"How are things going?" House let out a disgusted sigh.
"The kid has so many things going on, I feel like I need a really large sieve with really small holes to get any clarity on the situation. And I don't even want to discuss the father."
"The malpractice lawyer?"
"Yeah. I'm the big fish and he's using his son as the minnow for bait. It turns out he's playing games with a lot of people and a few of those games may even be illegal, never mind immoral and unethical." House looked to his right and saw Wilson approach from the hospital entrance, walking briskly. "Hold on a sec." House stood up and moved toward Wilson.
"Thirteen says they heard a heart murmur, grading it at 4.5 to 5. Level and sounds stay the same on change in position," Wilson reported. "Chest x-ray is clear." House rolled his eyes.
"It's a good thing that heart murmurs are common in kids or I'd start looking for the hidden camera and Allen Funt," he said shaking his head and taking a deep breath. "Tell them to do a 12-lead ECG so we have a base line and an echocardiogram with Doppler. Daddy Dearest is going to make the deductible on his insurance whether he likes it or not." Wilson looked at House with raised eyebrows and turned to go back in the building.
"Oh, I had the team order some food and charged it to your department." House was about to say something, but thought about it and changed his mind.
"Might as well while I still have a department whose money I can spend." Wilson nodded in agreement as he dialed Thirteen and went back inside. House realized he had kept Lydia hanging on as he spoke to Wilson. "Hey, sorry about that." Silence. "Lydia? Lydia, are you there?"
"I'm right here," a voice behind him said. House quickly turned around, but didn't see anyone behind him. He took a few steps forward toward the walkway and just to his left, past a large evergreen that was part of the landscaping, was Lydia. He felt his whole body relax as she came to him and wrapped her arms around him.
"What the hell are you doing here? Can't you see I'm busy with work?" House said, pretending to sound annoyed while at the same time retuning her embrace.
"Well in that case, I'll leave. I know when I'm not wanted," Lydia said as she went to break away from him. House grabbed her hand and pulled her back.
"You're not going anywhere," he said as he kissed her. She looked up at him and smiled. He returned the smile, but only very weakly.
"Are you OK?" she asked as she reached up to stroke his cheek. "You look worried." House nodded.
"I'd rather be forced to sit locked in a room, listening to a bunch of tone-deaf kids sing the theme song from 'Barney' a thousand times in a row than deal with this." House walked back to the benches and sat down. As Lydia sat down next to him, he asked, "So you didn't answer my question: What are you doing here?"
"I had dropped Annie off at her therapy appointment and was headed over to the stores to pick up a few things. I was literally three blocks away on Clearfield Avenue when your call came in. I pulled over because I forgot to take my phone out of my purse before I started driving. When I heard your voice, heard how upset you sounded, I just wanted to come and check on you, see if there was anything I could do," Lydia said. House put his arm around her and leaned against the seat back with his legs stretched out in front of him.
"Unless you can dig a hole big enough to swallow up D for B, I don't think so." Lydia looked confused.
"D for B?" House closed his eyes.
"Dick for Brains." Lydia laughed and shook her head.
"He can't be stupid. From what you said, he has a reputation for being a very smart lawyer."
"Smart in a bad way. I know I've bent a few rules in my life…"
"A few?" questioned Lydia. "That's an understatement." House shot her a look.
"Whose side are you on?"
"Yours. I'm just being honest."
"Which is more than Hunter ever is," commented House. He glanced at his watch and pulled his cell phone out. "C'mon; we'll go for a walk and I'll fill you on things. Let me just tell Wilson to call me when the food is ready." He pushed the entry on his speed dial labeled "Dancing Queen."
"I'm glad you're going to eat something. I'm sure the eggs I made this morning aren't going to hold you through the day."
"Wilson decided to order something for me. It doesn't mean I'm going to eat it."
"The food isn't ready yet, if that's why you're calling," said Wilson, anticipating House's question as he answered his phone.
"Nah, couldn't care less about the food. Just wanted to let you know, I'm going to be taking a stroll around the hospital grounds; give me a call whenever the ptomaine palace finishes making up their latest version of poison."
"You're taking a walk by yourself? Are sure you don't want company?" Wilson asked.
"That's the beauty of it; I won't be alone. As I was standing out front, this gorgeous, hot babe pulls up in a fire engine red Lamborghini and says she'd like to get to know me and my big cane better. We're off in search of a dark corner where were can get better acquainted." All Lydia could do was bury her face in her hands and repeatedly whisper "I don't believe you said that!" There was silence from the other end of the line. Finally, Wilson spoke.
"Fine. I'll call you when the food is done. And say hi to Lydia for me." House laughed as he hung up.
"Wilson says 'hi'," House told Lydia as he slipped the phone in his pocket. "Make yourself useful. Help me stand up," he said sitting forward and extending his left arm. Lydia stood up, turned around to face him and folded her arms across her chest. She glared down at House as he sat there with his arm upstretched, a look of anticipation on his face.
"Not until you ask nicely." House dropped his arm into his lap.
"Bitte helfen Sie mir aufzustehen."
Lydia smiled as she leaned over House until their foreheads touched.
"You know far more German than you let on." House tilted his head to the side.
"I don't think I could match you word for word in a conversation, but I know enough to get by." He looked into Lydia's eyes and wished he could make this case go away. The pressure he was putting on himself to come through this relatively unscathed, didn't just come from Hunter being able to take away his livelihood; it had to do with how it would affect his relationship with Lydia. Taking into consideration how his actions were going to impact another person's life, on a personal rather than professional level, was something House hadn't dealt with in a long time.
"Greg? I said I love you." House blinked once or twice to bring him back to the present.
"I love you, too." He put his arm around Lydia's shoulders and guided her to sit on his left knee. He pulled her in and hugged her tightly, hoping it would further sooth his nerves.
"You know, I don't often say I hate people," Lydia began, "But you haven't even told me much about this man and I hate him for what he's doing to you." She pulled back slightly so she could make eye contact with House. "Let's take that walk so you can tell me the story of the little boy and the Dummkopf." Lydia stood, and extended her left hand. "Since you said 'please'." House smiled slightly. He reached up for her hand and allowed her to pull a little; he would have liked to have had her pull more, as his leg was still killing him, but he didn't want to bring her down on top of him. Not now, anyway.
"Danke. Let's go this way," House said leading her on the walkway past his parking spot. He took her hand, gave it a squeeze and began the story of his history with Malcolm Hunter, from their written confrontations, to Hunter's comment to Cuddy a few months ago, to manipulating things so that his wife wanted House to examine their son. Then he started on the medical aspects of what he was dealing with, how there were so many symptoms, none of which stood out as leading to a comprehensive diagnosis; how some of them were there from birth, some came out just before the accident and some after. And then there was the aspect of watching the child in action. Refusing to make eye contact, wanting to hug, yet physical contact could take place only on his terms. No verbal communication except for screeching when he appeared to be unhappy and strange, repetitive laughter with a clownish smile the rest of the time. Lydia shook her head in amazement when House finished describing things.
"Unbelievable. That poor child! And his mother; the helplessness and frustration she must feel, never mind exhaustion," Lydia said.
"Yeah. At least she has some help in that she's got his lead accountant, who also happens to be a board member, on her side. It seems they've had something going on between them for a couple of years now. He definitely has a thing for her; I didn't get a chance to gauge her reaction." House stopped walking. He pulled out his cell phone to see if he missed any messages from the team. There were none. "The kid's problem has got to be neurological in nature. I want to see the results of the EEG, see where the wiring's gone wrong. Clarify the areas of deficiency or over-activity and it might lead us to the source of the problem."
"And all of these problems would fit under a single diagnosis?" Lydia asked. House shook his head.
"Not one that I can think of at the moment. There's got to be something hiding. That's why I want to see the EEG," he said as he took out his phone again. "What the hell is taking so long?" He started to push the button for speed dial to Foreman's phone; since neurology was Foreman's specialty, House hoped he had enough sense to oversee the EEG.
"Greg, do you smell smoke?" House looked annoyed at his cell phone.
"Damn, the call failed." He saw that Lydia had a strange look on her face. "What did you say?"
"Do you smell smoke?" she repeated. House took in a deep breath.
"Yeah and I hear an alarm and see people coming out of the building. Let's go back around to the main entrance." The two walked quickly to the front entrance. A large crowd was gathered and among them, House spotted Wilson and his team in the middle of the driveway.
"What the hell happened?" House asked. "The pyromaniac we threw out of the clinic came back?"
"No, I think he's still in jail," said Wilson. "It seems two of the cooks in the cafeteria decided to have a domestic dispute on the job and were too busy screaming obscenities at each other to watch what they were doing. There's no actual fire, but the oil in the fryers started to smoke like crazy."
"Did you contact the fire department and let them know they don't need to come?" asked Foreman. Wilson nodded.
"Yeah, but standard procedure is to send at least two trucks over. The head of maintenance is waiting for them. He'll handle most of it and we can talk to them at the end."
"Where's our patient?" asked House.
"Back in his room, knocked out," Chase said. "We were about to take him for the EEG when the alarm went off. Didn't have to move him since he's in a separate wing with fire doors."
"The ventilation system seems to be pulling most of the smoke away. And here comes the fire department now," Wilson noted. The group moved onto the far sidewalk opposite the building to let the trucks through. Foreman saw that the head of maintenance had stepped forward, so he and Wilson were free for the moment.
"So you didn't do the EEG yet?" House asked. Foreman shook his head. "We need to check this kid's circuit board."
"You're thinking a neurological issue?" asked Taub. House made a face.
"No, I'm thinking chicken pox. I want the EEG to add to my collection of portraits of my patient's brainwaves."
"What particular neuro disorder?" Foreman asked. "Epilepsy? Autism?"
"Could be both," said Thirteen. "Autistic children frequently suffer from epileptic seizures."
"Except autistic children don't hug and seek out physical contact." House turned to his left to see Lydia standing there; he had gotten so engrossed in things, he had forgotten she was there.
"That's very true," he said smiling at her contribution to the conversation.
"Aren't you going to introduce us?" Lydia asked. House dropped his head down for a moment. It couldn't be avoided; they were all standing right there. But this was a biggie for House: allowing his work and personal life to intermingle. Then again, he never really had much of a personal life to speak of, so maybe it won't be too bad.
"OK, girlfriend meet team, team meet girlfriend." House nodded his head, satisfied that the task was complete; the others held a different opinion.
"We have names you know," said Lydia.
"Yeah and I know them. No more needs to be said." Lydia looked at the team.
"It's a good thing Greg spoke about all of you. I think I can figure this out…you're Dr. Chase," she said pointing, "You're Dr. Taub, you're Dr. Foreman and you are Thirteen. Shouldn't that be Dr. Thirteen?" Thirteen laughed.
"Actually it's Dr. Hadley, but you can call me Thirteen. And you got everyone else right." Lydia smiled.
"Good. I'm Lydia Strohman," she said extending her hand to Thirteen who stood closest to her. Thirteen shook the offered hand as did Chase, Taub and Foreman with appropriate greetings exchanged.
"Going back to something Lydia mentioned a minute ago," said Chase, "She's right about the hugging and the laughing and the big smile all not being part of autism. It's the opposite in fact."
"The classification is autism spectrum of disorders," said Taub. "Most people when they hear autism think of a general set of behaviors, but there are subtle differences between the various disorders."
"Right," Foreman said. "After we do the EEG we can see where the abnormalities are and try to classify which disorder it could be."
"Which is what you said a little while ago," Lydia said to House. She saw the confusion on Foreman's face. "When Greg and I were walking around the building, he said the EEG was important and the results could classify the problem." She could see that Foreman looked a little disappointed that he wasn't getting the credit for the idea. "I guess great minds think alike," she offered. Foreman smiled.
"Wait a minute are you comparing my mind to his?" asked House.
"Well, he seems very…"
"My mind," House said pointing to his head, "As compared to his?" Lydia threw her hands up.
"I'm trying to be nice." House frowned.
"Why?" Lydia shook her head.
"And all of you willingly subject yourselves to this?" she asked gesturing toward House.
"Yes, and you do, too," said Thirteen. Lydia nodded her head in agreement.
"Yeah, but her fringe benefits are way better," House said looking at Lydia.
"Greg…" Lydia warned.
"Don't want to hear it. Don't want to know," the team said simultaneously. House gave in to a little smile; he was actually enjoying watching Lydia meeting the team. He noted how well they hit it off with her; but then there was no reason not to. He hated to break things up, seeing how happy Lydia was, but he was eager to get the EEG done and figure out where the results would take them.
"Hey, I think they've given the all clear; we can go back in," Wilson said. Good, let him play spoilsport, House thought. Everyone walked across the driveway back to the plaza in front of the hospital. "We should talk to the fire captain and Mario to see if maintenance has it cleaned up," Wilson said to Foreman.
"And here comes the food services head…what's his name again?" asked Foreman.
"It's not Bobby Flay or Wolfgang Puck, that's for sure," noted House.
"It's probably not even Chef-Boyar-Dee knowing hospital food," commented Lydia.
"We'll be right back," said Foreman smiling as he and Wilson walked away.
"You know Tyler's probably going to want to eat when we wake him up for the test," said Taub. "I think the cereal the mother gave him before was the last time he ate."
"Maybe I can call up to the nurses' station and have one of them ask the mom if he eats soup or yogurt or something else soft," offered Thirteen.
"He has to eat something more than baby food," said Chase. "His height and weight were in the seventy-fifth percentile. He doesn't appear to be malnourished and his preliminary blood work has come back clean. No deficiencies or spikes anywhere."
"How old is the child?" asked Lydia.
"Six. The mother said he was born with overall low muscle tone, but most notably in the mouth," House said.
"She said it delayed his speech, but that he communicated on a higher level back before the accident," said Thirteen.
"Yes, but Davidson said that his communication abilities were starting to falter a few weeks before the accident," Chase said as Wilson and Foreman rejoined the group.
"The boy was premature," said Lydia. It was statement not a question.
"Yes," Taub said taken back, "How…"
"Does he have flat feet?" she asked. House turned to her.
"Where are you going with this?" Lydia began to walk back and forth as she talked.
"When my father was stationed at the embassy in Greece, there were a lot of children there and once a month, they held a small party for them. The older kids would help look after the younger ones. I was one of the older ones." She continued walking and pointed her index finger out to emphasize what she was saying. "There was a little boy, he was about five or six, and I remember he couldn't hold things properly, not a pencil or a crayon. He couldn't pinch his fingers together to close the top on a zipper-top plastic bag and when he walked, you heard him coming, because he smacked his feet down on the ground, like this." She demonstrated the boy's walk.
"He was flat-footed," said House.
"So is Tyler. When I was examining him, I took off his shoes and saw he had an orthotic inside," said Taub. "And sure enough, when I looked at his feet…flat."
"And I'm going to guess he has flat hands, too," Lydia said looking at the team. They all looked startled, even House. "Look at the palms of your hands," she directed. "See the curve? Now flatten your hand out and you still have a slight curve. The little boy at the embassy didn't. I'm willing to say that your patient doesn't either."
"What did the kid at the embassy have?" asked Chase. Lydia looked pained.
"I'm trying to remember. I asked his mother about him, because he was one of the children in my group, but she didn't want to talk about it much."
"Great. You've gotten us on the highway, now we just don't know what exit to get off at," said House in frustration.
"Hey, we know more now than we did five minutes ago," said Wilson coming to Lydia's defense. House shot him a look.
"Tactile issues. The boy I knew had issues with what to eat and where to sit and what toys he would play with," Lydia said ignoring the exchange between House and Wilson. "He would drink apple juice, but wouldn't eat an apple. Foods that you and I would let cool before we'd eat them, he'd just shove in his mouth. He never wanted to sit on a cushioned chair and he rarely wanted to sleep in his bed. His mother would find him sleeping on the floor."
"Mrs. Hunter said her son only sleeps in short bursts. If she's lucky, maybe two hours at a time, but never through the night. And she often finds him sleeping on the floor." Taub said. House paced back and forth, his brow furrowed in thought. He was clearly aggravated at the situation. There was an answer right in front of them and no one was grabbing on to it. House suddenly stopped walking and turned quickly to Taub.
"Was he a C-section or vaginal delivery?" Taub looked startled.
"C-section; although they tried to deliver vaginally, but the baby's heart rate was too high." House turned to Lydia
"You don't know how the embassy kid popped out, do you?" Lydia shook her head.
"No, but I think mom didn't make it to the hospital on time for the birth. She said something about him being born in a taxi." House froze and his eyes opened wide. He walked the few steps that were between him and Lydia grabbed her and kissed her.
"I really love you right now," he said.
"I...love you, too," she said hesitantly glancing over at the team. The team and Wilson were staring at them in shock. He turned back to the group.
"Ataxia Cerebral Palsy. There are three types of Cerebral Palsy: Spastic, Athetoid and Ataxia. There's also a school of thought that says a child can have a combination of two of them," explained House.
"It would account for the low muscle tone in most of the body, yet over tonality in his feet and hands. The lack of communication and inability to eat proper foods, the jerky, stiff walk; it all makes sense," Thirteen said.
"Unfortunately it doesn't cover the laughing, the big smile, no eye contact, the screeching. There's still a lot left to account for," noted Foreman.
"Party pooper," said House.
"But it still gives us a base to start with. Since you can establish that there's something wrong neurologically since birth wouldn't it make sense that any other problems would be neurological, too?" asked Wilson.
"It gives us a firmer base to start with, but nothing can be eliminated yet. Once we do the EEG, we should know what we're hunting and what kind of rifle to use," said House.
"I still can't believe that Hunter made sure none of this got into his son's file from St. James," said Chase.
"He obviously knew that if the CP diagnosis came out in court, his case would lose some credence," Wilson said. "But there has to be a chart or a file somewhere where all of this is noted."
"Probably the first doctors the mom took the kid to. We don't have their names, do we?" asked Chase.
"You know, Tyler was seeing a speech therapist and a physical therapist and they told Mrs. Hunter that Tyler's symptoms were nothing to worry about," noted Thirteen. "Could Hunter have coerced them into keeping quiet, too?"
"This man …he's kept proper medical treatment from his son by his actions. Couldn't that be considered child endangerment? And aren't you, as medical professionals required to report that?" Lydia asked. "I know when I took child abuse prevention classes when I got my teaching certification, that physicians and teachers are required by law to report those things in most states."
"Yes we are," said Foreman, "but we don't have any proof that he knew about the CP or pressured anyone or withheld treatment."
"You don't need absolute proof. All you need is suspicion beyond a reasonable doubt. At least that's what I was taught in the class I took." Wilson looked at Lydia with a smile.
"You want to take Malcolm Hunter down, don't you?" he asked. She let out a sigh.
"Nobody is perfect; everyone makes mistakes. And when a doctor or anyone does something wrong, there should be a price to pay. But what he is doing is wrong. He's made doctors lie and falsify records, he's preventing them from doing their jobs properly by striking fear into them so they can't think straight even when it involves his own son," said Lydia looking around at House, Wilson and the team. "That, to me, is the most reprehensible thing of all. He can't continue to get away with this. No one should be afraid of doing a job they love and do well." Lydia looked down at the ground. "Sorry for going on so, but I just feel very strongly about this."
"That's OK," said Thirteen. "We know where your passion on the subject is coming from." She looked over at House and smiled. Lydia saw her look and smiled too.
"I mean it for all of you. Plus, I have a son who is just a little older than your patient." The team exchanged looks.
"You have a son?" questioned Taub trying not to look at House.
"And a daughter. Ben is seven and Elise is four." The team nodded their heads almost in unison.
"How very… interesting," said Foreman.
"OK, enough. I know you find the thought of me with little people very amusing. The fact is, I have no problem with it."
"R…i…g…h…t…" said Chase. House shook his head and as he did, he saw Jeffrey Davidson, Malcolm Hunter's accountant leaving the building.
"Do we have a number to contact Davidson at?" asked House.
"Yeah, he gave one to me. Just asked me not to put it in the chart," said Chase. House smirked.
"He's learned well from his boss. Didn't he say he's willing to do anything to help the mother?"
"Basically," said Chase.
"Maybe he can get the mother to give us the early medical files. Then we'd have a chance at having proof of what the bloodsucker did or didn't know."
"Good idea…" Wilson began. Suddenly, everyone's beepers started going off. They all looked down at the device.
"The kid is seizing," said Taub.
"But we have him sedated," Thirteen said.
"Discuss it while you get upstairs!" House ordered.
"It was nice to meet you," the team yelled to Lydia as they ran.
"The same to you," she called after them.
"I'm heading up, too," Wilson said. "Bye, Lydia. See you later." He turned and ran toward the building.
"Bye," she said. She turned to House and looked at her watch. "Oh no! I'm late picking up Annie."
"She hasn't sent out a search party, so don't worry." He looked at Lydia. "You were great before. You kept up with everything my team was discussing without batting an eye. As a matter of fact, you took the lead. I'm really proud of you." She looked at him thoughtfully.
"I took a parenting class as part of my course load. And one of the things we discussed is that to our children, to our friends, to our lovers, we always say 'I love you' and we would expect that, given the nature of the relationships. But we so often forget to tell people how proud we are of them and don't realize how much that can mean to them." Lydia moved in closer to House. "And for having the courage to open yourself to me, I am very proud of you." She kissed him very gently. House could feel himself well up, but knew he didn't have time for an emotional display right now.
"You picked one hell of a time to tell me that, because right now I'd like nothing more than to…" House's thought was interrupted by Lydia's cell phone.
"It's Annie sending out a search party," Lydia said as she looked at her phone.
"It's OK. I have to get inside." House gave her a kiss and let out a deep sigh. "Call me when things have settled in with the movers," he said as he started toward the building.
"OK. I love you," Lydia said as she quickly walked to the parking lot.
"I love you, too," House called back. He walked as quickly as he could to the building; his leg was hurting him far less than it had earlier.
Yeah, thought House to himself, I am lucky; my love is smart and beautiful….and she's got a great pair of legs on her, too.