Hello! I know it's been a long time, but this story is not dead. Life just got the better of me for a while. But rest assured I will definitely see this story through. And to make it up to you all, if I haven't lost all my readers, I've got one super long chapter for you.

Rachel snuck a glance at Thirteen while she drove down the Turnpike. Thirteen hadn't said a word in the two hours they had been on the road. Rachel tried to think of something to say that might bring her around, but nothing had worked so far. Thirteen had spent the entire drive staring out the window.

It had taken a lot of persistence on Rachel's part to actually get them to this point. Even after finally committing to see her brother, Thirteen had tried to find a way out of it. She had buried herself in work for weeks, volunteering to go on all the team's home checks and even doing House's clinic duty. In the end, Rachel had forged a letter requesting time off, leaving Thirteen with little choice but to go along with it.

For the time being, they were coming up on the hospice where Thirteen's brother was being treated. As Rachel pulled the car to a stop she couldn't believe it; the hospice was a reasonable distance from Princeton, it seemed to have been specifically chosen to give Thirteen easy access to her brother. And still she had never been to see him.

Rachel peered over at Thirteen once more. "Are you ready?"

"I can't do this," Thirteen said in a whisper. She stayed huddled in her seat as she cast a hopeless look to the hospice.

"You can. I know it'll be hard, but you'll get through it." Rachel reached for Thirteen's hand only for her to pull away quickly.

"I can't go in there."

"I thought you wanted to honor your promise to your brother."

Thirteen shook her head, "I can't."

"Remy–"

"I don't care anymore. I can't do what I promised him!"

Rachel sighed as she considered what she was about to say, "If you were in his position what would you want?"

Thirteen finally shot a glance at Rachel as tears stung in her eyes. She was angry that Rachel would use such a ploy, but she knew she was right. As she began to straighten up, another vehicle pulled into the parking space next to them. Thirteen's father quickly emerged from the car as a woman exited the passenger side.

Thirteen took a deep, shaky breath and got out to greet them. "Dad," she said, hugging her father and the woman. "I didn't know you were back in town."

"We wanted to stay on top of your brother's condition. It is so good to see you here." Mr. Hadley pulled Thirteen into another tight hug. After a moment, he turned to Rachel, who was hanging back by her car. "Nice to see you again, Rachel."

"You too, Mr. Hadley."

"Call me John," he said with a soft smile. "This is my wife Diane."

Thirteen watched as Rachel exchanged niceties with her stepmother. When her father suggested they head inside, she began to feel anxious again. She suddenly found herself frozen by the car.

Noticing her apprehension, Rachel gently took Thirteen by the hand, "It'll be okay."

"No it won't," Thirteen insisted. "Nothing will ever be the same after this."

Thirteen went pale and a look came over her that Rachel didn't quite understand. It wasn't like any expression she had ever seen from her. All she could make sense of was the fear that troubled her usually sharp eyes. Without a word she pulled Thirteen into her arms and held her tightly. Thirteen clung to Rachel for a long while before pulling away. Rachel tried to think of something reassuring to tell her, but nothing seemed worth saying. She held Thirteen's hand tightly and hoped it would be enough.

"Come on," she said quietly.

Inside the hospice the atmosphere was warm and homey. It might even have been more comfortable than Princeton-Plainsboro had the couple not spent as much time there as they did in their own homes. They followed Mr. Hadley to the room where Thirteen's brother stayed. The closer they got, the more Rachel was aware of Thirteen squeezing her hand. When they reached the door of his room, Thirteen drew in a tense breath and held it. Rachel returned the squeezing against Thirteen's hand, urging her to stay calm.

Thirteen's brother sat in a wheelchair, arms flailing and head reeling as her father and stepmother tried to hug him. He was no longer intubated, but on supplemental oxygen instead. His voice was strained and came out muffled as he tried to speak through the mask. Thirteen entered the room slowly. When he saw her, a light came to his eyes along with some semblance of a smile.

"Remy," he stuttered.

Thirteen finally released Rachel and knelt down at her brother's side, throwing her arms around him. Her heart broke as he thrashed against her, but she couldn't deny how good it was to see him. After a while she stood and turned back to Rachel. "Rach, meet my brother, Ian."

Rachel flashed Ian the sort kindhearted smile that always made Thirteen feel safe and loved. Thirteen took it in for a moment, tempering her anxiety. She was quickly snapped from her reverie as Ian descended into a particularly violent fit of chorea. His left arm jerked backward, colliding so sharply with Thirteen that she nearly jumped out of her skin. She shrank away from him for a moment before realizing she needed to do something. She grabbed hold of Ian's arm and gently pressed it to his side, trying to get the muscles to relax into a normal posture. To her dismay, the spasms only seemed to get worse.

As she struggled to still her brother's floundering limb, Rachel came to her aid. "May I help?" she asked. Thirteen could only nod as the contracture continued to confound her. She watched as Rachel carefully extended Ian's arm. She held him firmly by the shoulder until much of the rigidity subsided. As the tension calmed, Rachel ran her hands down the length of Ian's arm, massaging his muscles. "If you force a muscle in the direction you want it, it'll usually go the opposite way," she said. When she finally released his arm, it lay still at his side.

"Thank you," Thirteen said.

"No problem."

"I think we should get him to the bed. Will you help me move him?"

"Of course," Rachel nodded certainly.

Thirteen slipped her arms around her brother's back and under his legs while Rachel did the same on the other side. The moment she had her arms around him she could feel how thin he had gotten. Ian had once been twice her size. He'd been active and muscular. Now he was frail and weak, and she was able to hold him in her arms. She and Rachel settled him onto the bed and made sure he was well supported. As she straightened up, Thirteen brushed a few errant tears from her cheeks. A heavy feeling of nausea settled in her stomach and she quickly headed for the door mumbling something about getting copies of Ian's records.

Thirteen rushed down the hall, furiously wiping at her eyes. She made her way to the empty stairwell and crouched down on one of the steps, burying her hands in her hair. Her body began to tremble as her breath hitched in her throat. She desperately tried to pull herself together, but stifling the feelings stirring in her chest only made them come on stronger. After a while Rachel crept into the stairwell. She leaned against the wall and stood quietly.

"You're not going to say anything?" Thirteen asked.

"I would ask if you're okay, but I know you're not."

"I don't even recognize him," Thirteen choked out. "He can't walk, he can barely breathe. He's dying and I'm going to have to be the one–this is too much."

Rachel quickly moved to the stairs and took Thirteen in her arms. She whispered soothing words as Thirteen cried on her shoulder. It took a few minutes for her to calm down and pry herself away from Rachel. "I'm glad you came with me," she mumbled hoarsely. "I needed to see him, and I wouldn't have done it on my own."

"Anyway I can help you, I will," Rachel said. "Why don't I get Ian's records while you spend a bit more time with him?"

"No. I can't go back in there."

"You didn't come all this way to sit in the hall."

"Don't push me," Thirteen said sternly.

"Other than the obvious, what could be so horrible about caring for your brother? Is there something you're not telling me?"

"I am trying to tell you. I can't keep my promise to him. It's not just the proxy agreement. I–you wouldn't understand."

"When have I ever had a problem understanding anything about you?"

"Well, you don't seem to understand that I don't want to talk about this."

"I'm sorry, Remy, but I can't drop this. I can't let you walk out on your family. Even if it's the hardest thing you have ever had to do, isn't it worth it to give your brother some dignity in his last days?"

"There's nothing dignified about death! That's all that's left for him."

"No, it's not."

"It is! And it's all on me. I'm the one who has to deal with it. That is why I cannot be here."

"Then abandon him," Rachel shrugged. "Let him die slow and alone."

"He has my dad and Diane."

"How often do honestly think they'll be able to get down here? Do you really think they're prepared to handle decisions you're struggling with after a decade of medical training?"

Tears began to return to Thirteen's eyes, "What do you want me to do?"

"I want you to be honest with yourself," Rachel said firmly. "Don't keep putting this decision off. If you're going to be Ian's proxy, then stop pushing your responsibility off on your family and do it. You can't keep hiding behind the fact that it scares you."

"But it does scare me!" Thirteen shot. "Living up to this promise scares me more than dying myself."

"I know. I swear to God, I know. This is an impossible situation for you, but you can't let it paralyze you."

Thirteen sat quietly for a few minutes. She took a deep breath and finally stood, "You get his records and I'll go sit with him a while longer."

Rachel nodded and headed off while Thirteen slunk back to Ian's room. When she walked through the door, her father and stepmother were standing by Ian's bedside. She hesitated for a moment before she walked to the free side of the bed and stood uncertainly. She sat on the bed carefully and took her brother's hand. As it bucked and cogwheeled against hers, she only held it tighter, refusing to let go.

Thirteen paced up and down the floor of her bedroom, flipping through a thick document intently. She grabbed another document from the bed and began to pore over it with the same fervor. Rachel watched her carefully with concern.

"Remy, come to bed."

"Not now," Thirteen said absently. "I want to finish these."

"You've been going over those files all night. You probably have them memorized by now."

"Just let me review these," Thirteen huffed.

"Come to bed and I will help you review them." Thirteen groaned as Rachel got up and took the files from her. She crawled into bed, where she promptly sunk down into the pillows. Rachel curled up next to her and held her close. "What are you looking for?" she asked.

"What am I supposed to do for him?"

"You make decisions for him, make sure he's treated according to his wishes. Just help him."

"That's just it," Thirteen said. "There's nothing I can do to help him. There are no treatments he could benefit from. We're just waiting for him to…"

"Die," Rachel said quietly. "I can't imagine how hard this is for you. But your brother trusted that you would know what to do when the time came."

"It's not even as if I can be his doctor."

"Not officially, but you work for one of the best doctors in the country. You have knowledge and experience they don't. They'd be idiots not to listen to you."

Thirteen sighed and leaned against Rachel heavily, "I think I need to take a hiatus from work."

"Sounds good. I'll put in for time off, too."

"No," Thirteen said. "You have a whole department to run."

"Someone can cover for me. I want to be with you."

"I can't have you drop everything for me," Thirteen insisted. "I need something to stay normal."

Rachel nodded, "How's half time? I want to be sure I can still be there for you. I don't want work to get in the way."

"Okay, sounds good," Thirteen said. She curled closer to Rachel, "Thank you for being here."

"Where else would I be?" Rachel said softly. "I'm always here for you, Remy."

"I know," Thirteen said.

"I don't know what to say when you're like this. What can I say to make you feel better?"

"You can tell me you love me."

"I do, I love you."

"And that you'll be with me through all of this."

"Every step of the way."

Thirteen sighed, "And that someday I'll be able to have the slightest glimmer of happiness and hold onto it for a while."

Rachel slid down to Thirteen's level and kissed her, "I'll make sure of it."

The next morning Thirteen was following the usual lead and draft routine as House carried on a differential through the hallways. Her mind wasn't there. She wasn't anywhere close to being focused on the case. All she could think about was filing for time off and getting back to her brother. There was the nagging question of how to accomplish her goals without House or the team prying into her personal life, but for now she couldn't be bothered with the details. As the rest of the team split off into separate directions, Thirteen followed House to his office.

"Not satisfied with just one assignment?" he asked, easing into his chair. "Fine, test the patient's blood and then MRI his head."

Thirteen nodded vaguely, "I need to take some time off."

"You just took time off."

"I need more."

"How much more?" House asked. He was eyeing Thirteen in a way she knew meant he had already begun analyzing her.

"I don't know exactly. Until further notice."

"What for?" House asked, already knowing better that to expect a straight answer.

"It's personal."

"Right. Get me a letter," House said. Thirteen nodded and began to make her way out as House called after her, "Make sure the signature's in your own handwriting this time. Your girlfriend does a damn good forgery, though. Might want to keep an eye on your checkbook."

Thirteen set off to complete the tests for her patient. She was in and out of the patient's room almost as quickly as House would have been. Before long she sat in the lab waiting for the results of the blood test. As her mind wandered, she pulled out her phone and brought up her father's number. She considered calling him for a moment, then pushed the phone aside. Her mind started racing again. All the intrusive thoughts she had been avoiding were catching up with her. She shook her head, hoping to clear it and refocus herself. Just as she returned to the work before her, the results she'd been waiting for began to print. With the beeping of the machine came unexpected memories. As she looked over the printout, it wasn't the patient's test results she held in her hand, but the results confirming her own Huntington's diagnosis. She stared at the paper in disbelief. Her chest started to tighten and she began to feel lightheaded. She shook her head again and tucked the memory safely away.

She took out her phone and pulled up her father's number again. Almost immediately, she decided against calling him and held her head in her hands. After a few deep, slow breaths the sickening feeling in her stomach started to recede. But as a voice called out to her, it returned in an instant. Thirteen straightened up and checked her phone. She bit her lip hard as she mentally kicked herself. Somehow she had hit send and her father was on the line.

"Hello?" he answered.

"Dad, it's me," Thirteen said in a small voice.

"How are you sweetheart?"

"I'm okay. I just wanted to see how Ian was doing today."

"No change since yesterday, Remy. Are you feeling alright? You sound a little shaken up."

"I'm fine, Dad. I should be there in a few days. I'm going to take some time off work so I can be with him."

"That's great, Rem. Just don't get so wrapped up in all of this that you forget to take care of yourself."

"Yeah. I've got to go, Dad." Thirteen hung up quickly and got back to work so she could have a chance of getting home at a reasonable hour.

As she sat at her desk that night Thirteen could only stare at a blank document on her laptop. She had been trying to write her letter to House for over an hour. The letter had been started, revised, and erased so many times she could barely remember what she was trying to say. She could already feel herself getting lost in this. All she could think of was her brother. It was starting to consume her.

Rachel walked over to her and placed a bowl on the desk, "You should eat something." She kissed the top of Thirteen's head and pulled up a chair. "Can I help with anything?"

"I can't write this," Thirteen mumbled as she dug into her food dutifully.

"Just keep it short and sweet. You need time off and you don't know when you'll be back."

"No, I mean, if I write this, it all becomes real. I'm on my way to a hospice to watch my brother die."

"Gimme," Rachel said, taking the laptop and typing quickly. "Dear prying assholes, until further notice I will be taking time off from work. The reason for my leave of absence is none of your business. Simply know that when I am ready to return, I will let you know. Sincerely, Remy 'Thirteen' Hadley."

Thirteen laughed loudly and nestled her head against Rachel's neck. "I think House would be amused, but there's a fine line between making him laugh and pissing him off."

"Leave it to me," Rachel said, kissing Thirteen's forehead. "You just finish your dinner and get some rest. I'll come up with something a little more professional sounding and in the morning all you'll have to do is approve it and sign."

Thirteen nodded, "What about you? Did you talk to Cuddy?"

"I did. I'll get her my letter tomorrow, work things out with my staff, and all will be good."

"What did you tell her? Did she say anything about you changing your schedule?"

"I doubt she'll connect our absences if that's what you're worried about."

"It's not about us, I just don't want anyone asking questions about me."

"They're going to ask questions. You know they're going to ask questions. I give it two days before House is in my office interrogating me."

"Well, I don't want them coming up with any answers."

"Don't worry. The team won't have a clue and Cuddy isn't as intrusive as House. I just told her I had some family stuff to work out."

"I still feel like I need an alibi," Thirteen said. Rachel could only scoff in response. "I'm serious. You don't know them like I do. They won't let this rest."

Rachel peered over at Thirteen's empty bowl, "Go to bed, Remy. Everything else can wait until morning."

Thirteen gave Rachel a peck on the lips and trudged off to bed. As she slipped between the sheets, she shut her eyes tightly and tried to quiet her mind. There were so many worries and questions buzzing around her that it became deafening. It wasn't until Rachel came to bed more than an hour later that she was able to find any peace. As Rachel wrapped a supportive arm around her, Thirteen let out a shaky breath and allowed herself relax.

Thirteen lay in bed the next morning trying to silence her thoughts. She had woken an hour earlier than normal, but now she was getting closer and closer to being late. She stared at the ceiling, trying in vain to pull herself together enough to face the day ahead of her. She could hear Rachel clicking around the apartment as she prepared to leave. The clicking drew closer as Rachel stopped in to check on her.

"Are you going in late today?" she asked as she took a seat on the bed.

"A little. It's just hard to get started today."

Thirteen sat up and ran her hands through her hair. Rachel placed a warm hand on her neck and hugged her, "Are you going to be okay? You could stay home. I can give your letter to House."

"I'll be fine."

"Here it is by the way," Rachel said, handing her the printed letter.

Thirteen quickly skimmed it, "Thank you."

"Look, I know you're worried about the team asking too many questions, so I did some research for you. There's a drug trial starting in Rome. It seems like the perfect alibi."

Thirteen nodded, "Sounds like I need to book a flight to Rome. God, the list keeps getting longer."

"List?"

"I need to pack, set up a meeting with the doctors at the hospice, suspend my phone services, find a place to stay."

"I get the phones, House and Foreman would call you nonstop, but why can't you stay here?"

"It's too far. If something happens two hours is too long a drive."

"Good point," Rachel considered. "Why don't you suspend just your home number and change your cell number? I'll find you a place to stay, then tonight you can pack and call the doctors."

"Okay," Thirteen said quietly.

"Do whatever you need to do. Just don't forget that there are people here to help you," Rachel said with a kiss. "I'll see you at work."

Rachel left with a hesitant look and Thirteen listened as the clicking of her heels faded from the apartment. She took another few moments to collect herself and finally began to start her day.

Thirteen went through most of the day like a sleepwalker. She felt half asleep, but somehow she was still getting work done. By the time evening rolled around she felt completely lost. As the work died down and her colleagues disappeared, she cut out early, drove home quickly, and took a long shower. After she changed into some comfortable clothes she pulled out her suitcase and began packing.

As she went through her clothes, laying them out and packing them away, Thirteen began to feel anxious. When she was done she set her suitcase by the desk where she had left her purse. Shoved in its side was her letter to House. As she remembered the letter and the important information it contained, her anxiety turned to dread. A tight feeling settled in her chest. It squeezed and compressed her lungs until she couldn't breathe. She rushed to her bedroom to retrieve her inhaler. Two puffs later, she still couldn't take a full breath. She wrapped her arms around her ribs and fell to the bed. She squeezed her eyes shut as her body began to shake and tears streamed from her eyes. Her heart was pounding so hard that she could hear it.

Suddenly, Rachel was at the bedside. Her hands were wrapped around either side of Thirteen's face and shaking her gently, urging her to respond. "Remy, look at me!"

After a few moments Thirteen was able to open her eyes. She put her hand over Rachel's as she continued to struggle with deep breaths. As she began to feel less and less like she was attached to her own body, Thirteen slid into Rachel's lap and shut her eyes. She lay there for what seemed like hours.

When she came back to herself, a loud ringing surrounded her. It took a moment for her to realize that it was a pager and not her own ears. She could finally breathe, though the muscles in her chest and ribs were sore. Rachel's arms were wrapped around her tightly. Thirteen took a deep breath and sat up slowly. "How long was I like that?" she asked hoarsely.

"About ten minutes," Rachel said. She still held Thirteen tightly, running small circles on her back. "Are you okay?"

Thirteen nodded, "I don't know what happened."

"You had a panic attack."

"Great," Thirteen groaned. The shrill noise she awoke to still had not stopped. "Who's fucking pager is that?"

"Yours, but both of our phones have been ringing nonstop," Rachel sighed. "There was an accident. I'm sorry, but I have to go."

"Apparently so do I." Thirteen crawled from Rachel's grasp and slipped on her shoes.

"I think you should stay here."

"You said there was an accident. They'll need all available doctors."

"They'll need all alert doctors. You were all but passed out in my lap a minute ago."

"Rachel, I need to go!" Thirteen yelled. "Right now this is still my life."

"Fine," Rachel conceded. "I'll drive."

The two of them rushed to the car and Rachel drove to the hospital as fast as possible. Thirteen finally took a moment to check her phone and pager.

"If it makes you feel any better we have a case."

"Of course you do. Why would House take a break during a disaster?" Rachel sneered. She glanced at Thirteen and took in the displeasure on her face. "Sorry, not your fault. At least you'll be away from the ER. Things will be a little calmer for you."

When they reached the hospital it was swarming with ambulances. Rachel parked with a precarious quickness and they headed in. Before parting ways she grabbed Thirteen's hand and pulled her aside.

"If anything happens, if you start to panic again, page me." Thirteen nodded halfheartedly and began to walk off, but Rachel wouldn't release her. "I'm serious, Remy. Page me."

"I will. I promise."

Rachel reluctantly let go and ran to the ER. Thirteen rushed to the diagnostics department, already preparing herself for the team's demands for her whereabouts.

Thirteen stood in the team office alone. Her teammates were strewn about the hospital, tending to one crisis or another. For now, she simply stood quietly, taking in the office one last time. She reached into her jacket pocket and retrieved her letter. Just holding it made her feel uneasy. As she crossed over into House's office the feeling quickly turned into the same sickening terror from earlier in the evening. She took a breath and held it for a moment, trying to keep herself steady. Hesitantly, she laid the letter on House's desk and turned to leave. Before she could reach the door, however, Taub walked in.

"What's that?" he asked.

Thirteen hesitated, "I'm asking for some time off."

"What's wrong?"

All Thirteen could do was shoot Taub a complicated look. He had been asking questions all night and she was in no shape for a discussion. She was already beginning to feel tears welling in her eyes.

Taub sighed reluctantly, "Are you okay?"

"Obviously not," Thirteen said flatly. She headed for the door and rushed to the elevator as quickly as she could. She punched the button repeatedly, desperate for it to reach her faster. When the doors finally opened before her, Thirteen sucked in a tense breath and flung herself inside just as the panic overcame her again.

She sank to the floor in her little corner of the elevator. Her mind raced, her heart thudded in her chest, and her breathing became labored, turning fast and shallow as her body heaved with every sob. She felt painfully overwhelmed by the responsibilities that faced her–not just to her brother, but to her family, to Rachel–she wished it would all go away.

Thirteen stayed crouched in the corner for what felt like forever. After a while she found her feet, but the tears continued to fall and she stayed pressed against the elevator. She clung to her corner uncertainly until a hand appeared, reaching out to her with the promise of pulling her from the darkness.

A heavy storm troubled Princeton. Lightning flashed and thunder boomed hard enough to shake the houses. Thirteen lay in bed listening to the rain spatter against the roof. She couldn't get back to sleep. She watched Rachel as she slept soundly. For a long while Thirteen thought about her and their relationship before much darker thoughts crept into her mind. By this time tomorrow she would be looking after her brother. She would be watching him as he struggled to eat and breathe, unable to control his own body. She would spend each day being his caretaker and a source of support for her family while she pretended that she wasn't doomed to the same fate. She couldn't shake the sense of foreboding that came over her. It threatened to overwhelm her until she remembered Rachel. The gentle flutter of Rachel's breath against her neck roused Thirteen from her thoughts. She curled closer to her lover and allowed the distant thud of her heartbeat to lull her back to sleep.

The cool light of morning flooded Thirteen's bedroom. It seeped in through the window and the skylights above her bed. The brightness pulled her back into the moment. All the months she had spent chasing Rachel, all the big moments in their relationship, and especially all the events of the night before were still ringing in her mind, but for the time being, she was safe and comfortable in her own bed. As the sunlight surrounded her, Thirteen pulled a pillow over her head and burrowed further into the covers. She groaned as the bed began to shake with Rachel's efforts to wake her. "Get up, Remy," she said, tugging at the pillow over Thirteen's head. "It's late, you've slept in long enough." Rachel stopped trying to remove the pillow for a moment as she attempted to decipher an incomprehensible mumble from Thirteen. "What was that?"

Thirteen lifted the pillow from her face and rolled her eyes as Rachel took the brief moment as an opportunity to snatch it away. "I said I'm staying in bed today."

"No, you're not. You're going to get out of bed, wash up, and come have breakfast with me."

"No. Call Cuddy for me and make something up. You're a better liar, anyway."

"You're not getting a free pass today. I let you sleep as long as I could, we're already late."

Thirteen shot a puzzled look in the direction of the clock, at nearly nine it was far later than she had thought. "I'm still staying in bed," she said as she curled into a ball and shut her eyes tightly.

Rachel sighed, "If you're going to turn this into a game of who can be more stubborn, can you just skip to the part where you fold and get up? You know I'll win." Seeing a small smile from Thirteen, Rachel continued her badgering. "I'll win because I'm more stubborn, more persistent and, if I choose to be, far more annoying. Plus, I have this." Rachel grabbed a mug of coffee from the nightstand and waved it under Thirteen's nose.

As the aroma of fresh coffee reached her, Thirteen sighed and sat up. "You'll win because you always win."

"And don't you forget it," Rachel said, pulling the mug away as Thirteen reached for it. "Not until you've showered and dressed."

Thirteen groaned loudly and rolled out of bed. She hopped in the shower, letting the hot water work away at some of her stress. When the water began to run cold, she finally got out and toweled off. She dressed quickly and met Rachel in the kitchen.

Rachel sat her down at the table and served breakfast, "Did you tell the team what's going on?"

"Not really, but my letter to House is just laying on his desk, so I doubt they'll wait for him to tell them. I just told the guys I was at physical therapy and didn't have my phone."

"No one caught on to your lie?"

"There wasn't time. Besides, I only half-lied, I was with you."

"But I usually see you on Thursdays."

"Taub was the only one who actually asked. Three times, actually."

"Really? What'd you tell him?"

"He found me leaving the letter for House and I told him I was requesting time off for–well I couldn't actually say it, but he knows something's up."

"Did he say anything else?"

"No, but it probably won't be long before the others start prying into my personal life."

"They're not prying, they care about you. Not to mention the fact that you're not a very convincing liar."

"I am a great liar. I just can't lie to you," Thirteen said, scooting closer to Rachel.

"No, see you just have this adorable, charming face that makes you terribly ingratiating. People believe you because they want to, not because you convince them to."

"So, I got away with lying about my brother because you wanted to believe me?"

Rachel shook her head, "That's completely different. And by the way, it's a little too soon to be slipping that into casual conversation. Knowing that someone is lying is all about suspicion. If I can't tell that something is amiss, I can't possibly be suspicious. I can't find the truth if nothing is said. But, I'm onto you now, so no more leaving shit out."

Thirteen laughed softly, "Got it."

"So," Rachel hesitated. "Is it too soon to bring up tonight?"

"We've got to talk about it sometime."

"I got you a hotel and paid it up for a while. My credit card is on file, so you're set for as long as you need it. We're both packed and ready, so we can leave right after work."

"Rach, I'm really not up for work today," Thirteen muttered.

"I know, baby, but I don't want to leave you alone and I can't beg off."

"Yesterday when I actually wanted to work, you wanted me to stay home. Now I want to stay home and you want me go to work."

"Yesterday morning you hadn't had two panic attacks in the span of four hours. I have never seen you like that. I just want to be able to keep an eye on you, to know that you're safe."

Thirteen nodded, "What if I start to freak out at work?"

"If you need a break, or you want to talk or hide out stop by my office."

"You're always looking out for me," Thirteen said taking Rachel's hand.

"And I always will." Rachel leaned over and kissed her, "Are you ready to head out?"

"As ready as I'm going to be," Thirteen shrugged.

"Take a breath, Remy," Rachel said. "You'll be okay."

When Thirteen arrived at work everything seemed the same. She peered into the clinic for a moment. She had half expected everyone to seem somber and downcast, but it was as busy and lively as ever. After the accident and the night she'd had, it didn't seem right that people could carry on with business as usual.

She stood and watched for a moment longer. She probably should have been looking for a case, but she was so late that there wouldn't be much time. As she spotted Taub she quickly darted around the corner. She headed to the office to settle in before the team began to wonder where she was.

The team office was thankfully empty when Thirteen walked in. She tucked her things away, slipped on her lab coat, and checked House's office. He too was nowhere in sight. She grabbed a mug and poured herself another cup of coffee. If the past few weeks were any indication, she would soon have to give up decaf for something with a stronger jolt. Just as she settled at the table, Taub walked in.

"You're here," he said as he awkwardly hung about by the door.

"So are you," Thirteen said coolly.

"I just thought after last night–you seemed a little…" Taub fumbled for words.

"I'm fine, Taub," Thirteen replied shortly. She busied herself with her coffee and hoped he'd take the hint to move on.

Taub sat next to Thirteen at the end of the table, "I just want to make sure you're okay."

"You said that last night."

"You can talk to me. We're friends, I–"

"You said that, too."

"I just meant that I'm here and you can trust me. Anything you say stays between us."

Thirteen sighed and finally looked up from her mug. "Look Taub, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but it's not necessary. Everything's fine. I'm just taking time off, it's not the end of the world."

"Look–" Just as Taub started Foreman and Chase walked in. Foreman took a seat at the head of the table while Chase sat across from Thirteen. Foreman seemed unusually distracted, but Chase wasted no time in getting down to business.

"Any interesting cases?" he ventured.

Thirteen watched as Taub thankfully took the cue and turned his attention away from her, "Here's one, twenty-five-year-old man with numbness and tingling in his legs and speech disorder. Three–"

"Anybody see House?" Foreman interrupted.

"It's ten a.m.," Taub started. "I'd be worried if he was here. This twenty-five-year-old –"

"He was in pretty bad shape yesterday," Foreman cut in again. "After his patient died."

"House has lost patients before," Chase added. "We all have. He's a big boy."

"You didn't see him," Foreman insisted.

"Best thing we can do for him now is find him a new puzzle to solve," Thirteen said.

"Thus bringing us back to my twenty-five-year-old–"

Chase cut him off as quickly as he started and focused on Thirteen, "Yet you're the only person here without a potential case in front of you."

Thirteen narrowed her eyes and tried to skirt the question, "I haven't found the right one yet."

"Oh," Chase said glibly. "I thought maybe it was because you were asking for a leave of absence and wouldn't have time to see a case through."

Thirteen shot a sharp look at Taub who promptly defended himself. "I didn't say anything."

"He didn't," Chase confirmed. "I saw an envelope on House's desk with your name on it, so naturally I steamed it open."

"What's wrong with you," Taub asked. "You steam an envelope to keep it secret."

"Which is why I just ripped it," Foreman said. "Are you going to tell us where you're going?"

Thirteen studied Foreman cautiously for a moment, then scoffed, "Sure sounds like a no." She waited rather anxiously for the guys to get back to business. Much to her dissatisfaction no one really seemed to be focused on work. They meandered about with dead-end cases, occasionally throwing a concerned look in her direction. They seemed more than content to be without a case. Thirteen quickly excused herself. As was becoming a pattern, Taub followed shortly after her.

"Hold on a second," he called, catching up to her as she rushed down the hallway.

Thirteen stopped and spun around quickly. "What?" she asked crossly. "You wanted a case, I'm going to find us a case. Which is completely pointless since not one of you seems to actually want to work today."

"I'm sorry about the ambush back there. We're just worried about you."

"I told you, there's no need."

"Forgive me if that doesn't put my mind at ease. You don't have to wall yourself off. I don't want to pry, but I'm here if you want to talk."

"Stop saying that," Thirteen demanded. "I don't."

"Fine," Taub conceded. A discomfited look came over his face as he leaned towards Thirteen and wrapped his arms around her.

Thirteen stiffened a bit, but didn't push away. She indulged Taub for a bit and half-heartedly returned the gesture until the hug began to go on too long for her liking. "Taub?" she began.

"Yeah?"

"This is really awkward."

"Yeah," Taub nodded and quickly released her. "Sorry about that."

Thirteen nodded in return and quickly stepped back. "I'm just going to go." She shook her head and laughed under her breath. She began to head for the elevator, but remembering her incident the night before, Thirteen opted for the stairs. She tried to take her time in getting to her destination, but everything in her felt pressed to hurry. She turned a corner sharply and made her way into the locker room. When she reached her locker she emptied the few personal items she'd left into a box. She stared into it for a moment. Everything suddenly seemed disposable and inconsequential. Her life was being reduced to little more than boxes and bags. She sat the lot back in her locker and from her pocket she pulled the confirmation receipt for a flight. She tucked it into the side of the box and closed the locker harshly. She leaned against it heavily, her head pressed to the cold metal. Everything she had ever wanted in life was within her grasp and she had to walk away from it. It felt as if the rug were being pulled out from under her and it pissed her off to no end. Thirteen gave the locker a sharp kick and left.

She flew up the stairs again, already thinking of places to avoid the team for a while. This time, however, her rushing got the better of her. By the third flight of stairs she was breathing raggedly. By the fourth she was wheezing. As she left the stairwell and detoured to Rachel's office, it was all she could do to stay upright and avoid making a spectacle of herself. She barged into the office just as the room started to spin. Rachel looked on for only a second before rushing to her aid. She guided Thirteen to a chair and folded her arms above her head. She pulled her stethoscope from her desk and quickly gauged Thirteen's breath sounds. Rachel ran out for a few moments, returning with two vials and syringes. By now Thirteen was beginning to look pale and faintly blue.

Rachel slapped her cheek lightly, "Remy, stay with me. I'm going to give you a shot of Epi and some prednisone." Rachel prepared the syringes and administered the medications. She watched tensely for a few minutes as Thirteen's breaths slowly eased into normal range. "Another panic attack?" she asked when she thought Thirteen was ready to speak.

"No," Thirteen said hoarsely as she shook her head. "I didn't feel panicked. I was angry and tense and stressed. I don't know, maybe it was."

"We should do something about that."

"Later. I should get back to work," Thirteen said, rising shakily to her feet.

Without much effort Rachel pushed her back into the chair. "You should sit down before you wind up passed out in the hallway." Rachel handed her a cool bottle of water. "Relax and sip this slowly. I'll be right back."

When Rachel returned she had her arms full with prescription bags and a small, square device. Thirteen huffed and scoffed as soon as she saw it. "No nebulizer, Rachel. I don't have time for this."

"You can spare ten minutes. What's your hurry? You didn't even want to come to work."

"But you made me come anyway," Thirteen said snidely. "Now that I'm here I need to keep my mind busy."

Rachel pushed a newspaper over to Thirteen, "So do the crossword during your treatment. You need more prednisone, you're not going until you're done." Thirteen sighed and opened the machine. She pulled the mask over her nose and mouth and waited while Rachel set up the medication. When she turned it on, the machine hissed and hummed to life. As Thirteen breathed deeply, taking in the medication, Rachel gave her a thorough check-up. She focused great attention on Thirteen's lungs again, scrutinizing every sound. "This is no good, Rem. Most people have a panic attack and just feel like they can't breathe. You have one and you physically cannot draw breath." Thirteen simply nodded. Rachel unpacked the prescriptions and set them out for her. "I want to try you on Advair, see if that will control your asthma better. I got you a new rescue inhaler, too. But, neither of those will work if we can't manage these attacks, so…" Rachel pulled a bottle of pills from one of the bags. "Ativan, half milligram tabs."

Thirteen rolled her eyes and uttered muffled curses through the mask, "I don't need–"

"Yes, you do. This can only get worse. Soon you'll be under even more stress. You need to get a handle on this now. And you have no reason not to give this a shot."

"Rachel…"

"Try it today and see how you feel. We can take it from there." Rachel smiled softly as Thirteen finally nodded. She moved in closer and took hold of Thirteen's hands, "Don't shut me out, okay? Not now."

Thirteen nodded again. As the nebulizer gave a final sputter she untangled herself and stood surely from the chair. She wrapped her arms around Rachel, letting herself lean a bit. "You're such a hard-ass," she said, getting a good laugh from Rachel. "But I'm always glad I have you." With a kiss she pulled back and took the pills from the desk. "What do you recommend, Doctor Galvin?"

"Just one for now. You can take up to four, but try to space it out, these can really throw you for a loop. Why don't you just stay here until you're feeling better?"

Thirteen nodded as she swallowed one of the pills. She let Rachel pull her over to the couch against the wall where she curled silently into her lap and shut her eyes. She sighed contentedly as Rachel rubbed her back. "Everything is going to be okay, Remy," she said soothingly. Thirteen felt herself being lulled into a near-dozing state. The drugs began to work on her as her breathing deepened and her limbs relaxed. She stayed that way for nearly twenty minutes until a sharp knock fell on Rachel's door. Thirteen came around slowly and pulled herself upright.

"Just a moment," Rachel called out. "That's my next patient."

Thirteen nodded, "I should get going."

"No, you can stay. We have to go down to the physio lab anyway."

"It's okay," Thirteen said. She was already on her feet again. "I'm feeling much better. We both need to get back to work."

"Okay. Oh! Hold on a second," Rachel said. She went to her desk and pulled a tin from one of the drawers. It was half full of mints as she emptied the Ativan into it and handed it to Thirteen along with her other prescriptions. "To keep the team out of your business. All they'll know is that you have fresh breath."

Thirteen smiled and tucked everything into the pockets of her lab coat. "Thank you, Rachel."

"You're sure you'll be alright?"

"I'll be fine. You need to get to your patient."

"I need to be sure you're back on your feet. He can wait another minute," Rachel said. She pulled Thirteen into a quick hug and kissed her tenderly. "If you start to feel stressed again call me and we'll go home."

"Okay," Thirteen said quietly. "I'll be fine, though."

Rachel nodded and released her. She walked Thirteen to the door, watching her carefully. "Take care of yourself."

"I will," Thirteen said with a small smile. "Don't worry so much." Rachel threw her an unconvinced look as she headed off.

Thirteen slunk through the hallways, searching for a quiet place to keep to herself. She headed for the doctor's lounge. As she had hoped, it was empty. She sat down on the couch and took a deep breath. She held her head in her hands and took in the silence. She tried to shut out all the thoughts swirling around her mind. It was easier than usual. Perhaps Rachel was on to something. For a long while, Thirteen focused on the calm around her. She sat uncharacteristically still for another few minutes until restlessness got the better of her. She hopped up from the couch and paced around for a moment before the pool table caught her eye.

It had been a long time since she'd been able to enjoy games. At one time she had been quite good at billiards, she'd even been a bit of a shark a time or two. Thirteen sidled up to the table. She ran her fingers over the cool, veneered sides. She racked the balls and took one of the cues from the caddy on the wall. She lined up her shot and struck the cue ball firmly. It gave a solid crack and hit its intended mark, leaving Thirteen with a satisfied smile. She took another shot, this time playing the diamonds and sinking two balls. She sunk shot after shot until the table was empty. She racked the balls again and began a new game. Just as she lined up her third shot, Foreman walked in.

"Why are you going to Rome?" he asked bluntly. Thirteen only stared at him. "I found the flight information in your locker."

Thirteen sauntered casually around the pool table, "I love how everyone thinks it's so quaint and childlike for me to expect a modicum of privacy around here." It wasn't that she was surprised he'd gone snooping and found her decoy, but part of her had hoped he would have enough respect not to.

"Your flight's tomorrow. What's so urgent in Rome?"

"I hear they want to tear down the Colosseum to build a karaoke bar," Thirteen answered flippantly as she continued her game.

"The Buena Esperanza medical center in Rome is doing a Huntington's trial," Foreman pressed.

"Seriously, I live to sing."

"I know that they've been doing fetal neural transplantation. I also know that their subjects have increased risk of intercranial hemorrhage," Foreman said. Thirteen ignored him as best she could and kept her focus on the table. "This isn't the time to join that trial. This research is in its infancy. So is your condition."

As hard as she was trying and despite the fact that she was on tranquilizers, Foreman was getting to Thirteen. She could feel her calm begin to waver and her heart pick up pace. She clenched her jaw and stood squarely in front of Foreman. "You read my note, you go through my locker, and then you decide you want to round it off by lecturing me on my life choices?"

"I'm worried about you."

"Oh, well that makes it alright then," Thirteen said dismissively. She tossed the cue on the table, grabbed her lab coat, and walked out. As she rushed down the hallway, she pulled the mint tin from her pocket. She quickly slipped another Ativan into her mouth and swallowed hard. She paced uncertainly for a second before heading for the stairs. She ascended slowly this time, almost cautiously. When she reached her destination she heaved open a heavy door and was met with a cool breeze. The sun shone brightly on the hospital roof. Thirteen walked to the edge and leaned heavily. She closed her eyes and took deep, steady breaths. She felt the sunshine on her face and listened to the hum of the town around her. She opened her eyes and gazed out at the landscape. She could see for miles. Trees and beautiful old buildings stretched on forever. Thirteen pulled out her phone and dialed Rachel, "Could you meet me on the roof?" When she had confirmation she tucked the phone away and went back to her view.

After a few minutes the roof door creaked noisily and Thirteen turned to see Rachel walking towards her. She rushed to meet her and greeted her with a tight hug. Rachel let out a huff of air as Thirteen collided with her in her haste. She wrapped her arms around Thirteen tightly and rubbed her back. They stood that way for a long while.

When Thirteen finally pulled back Rachel smiled at her and gently tucked a bit of stray hair behind Thirteen's ear. "If you've called me up here to jump, may I suggest parachutes first?"

Thirteen laughed and quickly hugged her again. "I just needed to see you. I was starting to feel…I was losing myself again."

"But you didn't?"

"No, not completely. I took another Ativan and came up here, took some deep breaths."

"That's good. That's really good. Do you have any idea what made you start to feel stressed again?"

Thirteen nodded, "Foreman."

Rachel balled her fists and gritted her teeth, "I swear to God –"

"Don't fly off the handle. It's fine. He just found the flight information I planted. I knew he would."

"That still doesn't give him the right–"

"I know. And believe me I'm pissed that he went snooping through my things, but what got to me was the fact that he got to me," Thirteen sighed. "I am about to spend the next however-many months caring for my brother during what will probably be his last days. If I can't handle Foreman's usual assery, how am I supposed to handle that?"

"I don't know," Rachel said honestly. "I have know idea how you're going to get through this, I really don't. I just know that you will."

"You don't know that."

"I do. I know you. And I know that you are strong, probably better than you do. Watching your brother waste away will break your heart, but I trust that it is open and resilient enough to recover."

"You give me too much credit," Thirteen scoffed.

"You don't give yourself enough. I'll be there to help, but you can do this."

Thirteen gave a small laugh and ran her hands through her hair anxiously. "How is it that you come up here, tell me I'm about to go through hell, and I actually feel better?"

Rachel shrugged, "Talent, I guess."

Thirteen gave Rachel another vigorous hug. As she began to pull away a shrill beeping sent both of them rifling through their pockets.

"It's me. The savages are getting restless," Thirteen said. Rachel chuckled softly. "You laugh now, but wait until I leave and they focus their attention on you. You'll see what they're like."

"I have no doubt, that's why I laugh." Rachel kissed Thirteen quickly before she ran off. "I'm just a phone call away if you need me."

Thirteen nodded with a smile and headed back to the office. When she arrived the guys looked worried and frustrated.

"Where were you?" Foreman asked.

Thirteen rolled her eyes and ignored him. "What's wrong?" she asked Chase.

"Our last neurosurgeon is out sick. If we don't have one on the premises we have to shut down the ER."

"What the hell happened to our other neurosurgeons? We had three."

"Now we don't," Taub said. "House wants us to find a replacement."

"Why? Since when does he care about anything that happens outside this office?" The guys all wore the same puzzled look. Thirteen shrugged, "Fine, lets get on it."

The rest of the team nodded in agreement. As usual, Foreman took charge. "Chase, you stall DPH. Taub, get Richardson back here. Thirteen, try and track down a replacement."

The team went their separate ways. The guys vacated the office leaving Thirteen alone. She grabbed her laptop and began tracking down doctors. Her head was feeling a bit fuzzy with all the medications that were running through her system. Still, the deep, relaxed breathing the tranquilizers induced allowed her to stay calm and focused.

Thirteen began to pore through the listings in front of her. She switched quickly back and forth between her laptop and her phone. Every doctor she contacted was another dead end. It was soon apparent that there were simply no doctors available. It wasn't long before the rest of the team returned, their efforts proving unsuccessful as well.

Thirteen rose from the table as her teammates filed in.

"Did you find anyone?" Foreman asked.

"I have called every neurosurgeon within a forty-five mile radius. Nothing."

"I think House is just testing us," Chase suggested.

"He's always testing us," Taub said.

"Test or not, it's a problem." Foreman insisted.

"It's not our problem," Chase scoffed. "Why the hell is it House's problem?"

"Where the hell is Cuddy?" Foreman asked. "We either report this and half the hospital gets shut down, or we cover it up and run the risk that the entire hospital gets shut down."

"Or we get Richardson," Thirteen suggested, heading off determinedly.

"He's sick," Foreman quipped.

"And we're doctors," she said, turning back to him with a shrug. "We get people better."

Thirteen marched down the hallway and headed for the parking garage, only stopping briefly at the pharmacy. Chase soon followed behind her. She had wondered which of them would accompany her. For now, Chase was the lesser evil. As they reached the garage, it suddenly dawned on Thirteen that not only did she not have her car, but she was in no condition to drive. She glanced at Chase cautiously. "I'm getting a migraine, do you mind driving?"

"Not at all," Chase said. "Maybe this time we won't end up in the back of a squad car."

Thirteen scoffed, "You run one red light and you never live it down?" She rolled her eyes as Chase flashed his schoolboy smile and ducked into the car.

When they arrived at Richardson's house Thirteen hopped out of the passenger seat hastily. She barely gave Chase a chance to bring the car to a stop. Chase put the car in park and ran after her. "You could have at least waited until I turned off the car! What's your hurry?"

Thirteen spun around quickly to face him. "In case you've forgotten we're kind of on a time crunch. We need to get Richardson back to the hospital now."

"You really need to calm down," Chase said.

"Believe me, I'm calm. But that doesn't mean I'm patient."

She turned away from Chase and rung the doorbell. They waited a long while, but no one answered. Thirteen rang the bell a few more times before she took to banging on it. Chase had long since given up on trying to reign in her impatience. She continued banging until the door finally opened. They gazed at the man in front of them. His face held a heavy pallor and his skin was slicked with a fine coating of sweat. He looked at them dully.

"Dr. Richardson?" Thirteen began slowly. "I'm Dr. Hadley and this is Dr. Chase, the hospital sent us. I'm sorry, but we really need to get you back before DPH shuts us down."

Richardson shook his head and held a finger to his mouth as he gagged a bit. "I can't stop vomiting. I'm not going –" Before Richardson could finish his sentence, a lurch of his stomach sent him staggering to the bathroom. Violent heaving and the flushing of a toilet was all that could be heard for several minutes. Thirteen and Chase lingered outside the bathroom awkwardly. Thirteen paced uncomfortably, trying to focus on anything other than the sound of vomiting.

After a few minutes more there was quiet. When Richardson had been silent for a bit too long, Thirteen and Chase inched their way into the bathroom to check on him. Richardson was clutching the toilet with all his remaining strength. His head lay on top of the seat cover and his quick, shallow breaths were the only sound in the room. Thirteen hated that she was going to have to force him to leave, but she couldn't see any other way. "Dr. Richardson?" she called softly. When Richardson gave her no acknowledgement, she felt her patience running short again. She leaned against the doorframe crossly. "Look, you're the only neurosurgeon we've got. You have to suck it up and go back to the hospital." Her words came out far more sternly than she had intended, but she didn't care.

"We're not asking you to operate, just to be there," Chase added as he threw Thirteen a disapproving look.

"Unless you can transport this toilet with me, I'm not leaving the room," Richardson said.

"I'll get a bucket," Chase replied.

"You're missing the point," Richardson continued. "I ate bad sushi, I'm sick. Go away."

"We can give you promethazine for the nausea," Chase pushed.

"Already took it. And trimethobenzamide."

"Maybe this isn't food poisoning," Thirteen considered.

"Whatever it is, it must've damaged the lining of his stomach. Until that heals nothing's going to work," Chase said.

"So we need to treat both that and the nausea."

"And whatever's wrong with him."

Thirteen thought for a moment, "We give him ondansetron and prostaglandins."

"And whatever's wrong with him," Chase insisted. "Neither of those two treat any possible underlying condition."

"Who cares?" Thirteen shrugged. "He's not our patient, the hospital is."

"I can hear you," Richardson said pitifully from the floor.

Thirteen walked over to Richardson. She sighed as she crouched down next to him. "You're pretty miserable aren't you? Would you be willing to take a fairly risky drug if it would make it all go away?"

Richardson slowly lifted his head from the toilet and gave Thirteen a look that almost certainly meant 'yes'. She jumped to her feet and went to retrieve her bag. Chase followed closely on her heels, watching her as she pulled vials, syringes, and a few other supplies from her bag.

"What is going on with you today?" Chase asked as Thirteen donned gloves and began to measure medications into the syringes. "You can't just rush through everything without considering the risks."

"I have considered the risks. If he's already taken the standard treatments, this is our next best option."

"He hasn't considered anything. You're giving a risky treatment to a desperate man."

"What's your point," Thirteen huffed. She started to walk off, but Chase planted himself in front of her.

"You may not have to deal with House tomorrow, but the rest of us will be here when he's pissy about getting chewed out."

"That's not my problem. If House wanted things done a certain way he should have come to work today. I was given a job, and I figured out a way to do it. Now get out of my way."

Thirteen returned to the bathroom and attended to Richardson. She sterilized his skin and wrapped a tourniquet around his arm. Once she found a strong vein, she administered the medications. She began to leave hastily, but something made her take one last look at Richardson. He was still covered in sweat and beginning to look dehydrated. Thirteen looked around the bathroom for the linen closet. She grabbed a washcloth and moistened it with cool water before she gently wiped Richardson's face. She wrapped the washcloth around his neck and returned to the sink. She found a cup by the sink and filled it with water. She crouched down next to Richardson and held the cup while he slowly sipped. When he'd had enough, Thirteen returned to the bedroom.

Chase had sprawled himself across Richardson's bed and was fiddling around with a crystal chess set. Thirteen crawled onto the foot of the bed and made herself comfortable. Once Chase finished setting the pieces, the two of them began a game. They played quietly for a while. Chase chose his moves so cautiously that Thirteen could see them before he ever touched a piece. She was sure her calm, collected mind was an asset as well. With much of her stress removed from the equation, she had been intensely focused for most of the day. Her moves were chosen quickly and boldly, and they continuously left Chase baffled.

"Have you read the list of side effects on those drugs?" Chase asked after a long while. "We could crash his BP."

"I haven't heard a thump, so I assume he's still quietly puking," Thirteen said passively.

"We could be making him worse."

"Bigger picture: we're making the hospital better. We can test for whatever you want to test him for once he's stable enough to get back to the hospital. Now stop being a girl and move," Thirteen said, gesturing to the board. Chase flashed her a sheepish look and finally moved a piece. "So," she continued. "Are you going to ask me about this Huntington's trial? And by ask, I mean give me your opinion."

"No. There is one thing, though," Chase said. "Will you have sex with me?"

Thirteen stared at him a moment, trying to discern how serious he was. "What?" she finally asked.

"Well, this trial means you're leaving right away. I was playing a long game. Deadlines have been moved up."

Thirteen's mouth worked away at words her mind couldn't find. She simply came up empty. She was flustered to say the least. Before Rachel, during her darker days, she might have accepted Chase's offer. Now 'no' didn't seem to be anywhere near a strong enough answer. Thankfully Richardson stumbled out of the bathroom in time to break up the awkward silence that was settling in. Thirteen twisted around to face him. He looked far better than he had before. He was standing, no longer hunched over or stumbling along, even his color was returning.

"Wow, that stuff is good," he said.

"Think you can make it back to the hospital?" Thirteen asked. She and Chase rose from the bed and looked Richardson over a bit.

"Uh-huh," Richardson mumbled, more focused on a nearby lamp. "That lamp is shiny. I mean, the way it shines is….shiny."

Chase looked at Richardson strangely, "I take it this is one of the side effects of the drugs?"

"Who cares, let's go," Thirteen said. She led Richardson over to his closet, her face pulling into an awkward wince as she passed Chase. She helped Richardson quickly change into decent clothes and they were soon on their way back to the hospital.

When they arrived at the hospital, Thirteen became even more focused. She was determined to get Richardson well. All she could think of was getting him back to work so she could leave. She needed to go home. She needed to put the stress of this day behind her. She needed time to clear her mind and collect herself before more challenging stresses were thrust upon her.

Thirteen was focused to the point of tuning everything else out. After hooking Richardson up to a banana bag, she gave him a quick, but thorough exam . She let Taub field the annoying questions Cuddy's assistant threw their way, and nodded vaguely as Taub consoled him with a plausible lie. He waited until Cuddy's assistant rushed from the room before turning to her.

"What is wrong with him?"

"High blood sugar," Richardson mumbled. "You just said so."

"Chase is running labs," Thirteen said. "Right now, the top two contenders are hepatitis and peptic ulcer disease."

"So, is today really your last day?" Taub asked, changing the subject.

Thirteen stared at him stone-faced for a second. "I'm flying out tomorrow." She was surprised by how easily and casually the lies were beginning to roll off her tongue.

"How long a leave are you taking?"

Thirteen shrugged, "Depends."

"On the drug trial. Sounds risky."

"Yadda yadda, you don't think I should do it. Message heard." Thirteen was verging on irritation now. Even with a cover story, she still had to endure the team's pestering. She turned her attention back to Richardson before Taub said something surprising.

"No, I approve. Living fast and dying young is crap. If you have a chance to get better, I say good for you."

Thirteen could only stare at him for a moment. She was grateful for Taub's thoughtfulness, both in that moment and in the many times he'd tried to reach out to her since last night. For a moment she wanted to tell him the truth. For a moment she wanted him to hug her again and tell her everything would be fine. As her emotions came at her in a flurry, she could feel a strong twinge of panic breaking through again. As she went to speak her breath hitched. She cleared her throat and muttered a quick "Thanks" before leaving the room.

Thirteen rushed to the bathroom. She went to the sink and let cool water fill her hands. She splashed her face and ran her hands over the back of her neck. She took a few deep, slow breaths and gave herself a hard look in the mirror. She remembered what Rachel had said about how strong she was. She was trying so hard to get through this day and it only seemed to be getting harder.

Thirteen's hand went to her pocket. She fished out the tin again and looked it over. She wanted nothing more than to manage this on her own, but the stress was wearing her down quickly. Reluctantly, she took out another Ativan and swallowed it.

Sometime later Thirteen sat in the team office again. The team had tried and failed to subvert the DPH inspector and the ER and ICU were in the process of being shut down. Richardson only seemed to be getting worse and they still had no leads on what was ailing him. The evening was wearing on and any patience Thirteen had reserved was gone. She was tired and the drugs were making her hazy. As far as she was concerned, she was done. The only thing left to do was to stay occupied until Rachel was as well.

Chase walked in with his head hung, "Labs show he's negative for everything. I'm guessing at least one of them is wrong."

"Who cares?" Thirteen whinged. "The ER and the ICU are half-empty, the place is crawling with suits. It's over."

"You do know we still have a sick patient here, right?" Chase asked sternly. "He's the guy sitting right behind you taking off his clothes again."

The team turned to check on Richardson. Sure enough, he was unbuttoning his shirt and trying make an exit. Taub rushed over to him as Chase and Thirteen stood ready to block his path.

"Uh, whoa, whoa, whoa–uh, why don't you just sit down and take it easy?" he suggested.

"He should be coming down by now," Chase said, scrutinizing Richardson.

"And yet, I'm not," Richardson said excitedly. Taub pushed Richardson back into his chair.

"What if his behavior isn't a side effect of the ondansetron?" Foreman called to them from the table. "What if it's a symptom?"

"Thank you," Chase said as Foreman joined them. "What causes delirium and nausea?"

"He's been stuck here in the hospital a few days, nobody else is sick, so it can't be environmental," Taub said.

"Not exactly stuck, I snuck out," Richardson interjected. The whole team shot him a hard glare. "Freedom is my birthright."

"Where did you go?" Foreman asked.

"The seafood festival at the convention center."

"We're screwed," Thirteen said. "The seafood festival has stuff from all around the world in combinations nobody's ever thought of. We could be here all year."

Chase bent down to Richardson's level, "You had shrimp?"

"Uh-huh."

"And crab?"

"Uh-huh."

"Lobster?"

"Uh-huh."

"And?"

"I ate whatever looked good," Richardson said flatly.

An idea suddenly struck Thirteen, snapping her from her haze. "Did you eat any roe? Little, tiny eggs?"

"Nummy," Richardson said childishly.

"Toad eggs will cause nausea and they can get you high," she said, thinking through her thesis. "If I'm right, the antidote is fast-acting. If we can get him to keep his clothes on long enough, he can pass as a functioning neurosurgeon."

As Thirteen left she spied Richardson pulling at his shirt once again. She left the guys to deal with it and rushed off to track down the antidote they needed. On her way to Richardson's treatment room, her phone buzzed. A quick glance revealed a text from Rachel reading, Ready when you are. Thirteen tucked her phone away and hurried off. She prayed that she was right about Richardson's condition. She couldn't spend another hour in the hospital.

When she arrived at Richardson's room, Foreman was prepping him. Thirteen glared at him cautiously. After their earlier encounter just being in the same room with him made her feel on edge. She kept her head down and began to prepare the medication. Foreman drew the curtain for privacy and stood by the bed as Thirteen started the infusion.

"What if it doesn't work? What if I stay this way forever?" Richardson asked.

"The antidote works quickly," Thirteen said dismissively. "If we're right, you should be back to your old self in no time."

"My old self was boring," Richardson mumbled, beginning to undress again. "Can't we keep the new self?"

"Just lay down and stop unbuttoning," Thirteen said sternly. She pulled his hands from his shirt as if he were a child and returned to her work.

"I'm sorry that I read your note," Foreman said. "And looked in your locker."

Thirteen shot him an annoyed look before shrugging it off. "You get used to that kind of thing around here."

"Do you have anyone going with you to Rome?"

"Is that your passive-aggressive way of asking me if I'm seeing somebody else?"

"I hope you are," Foreman said frankly. "I mean, I hope you have someone with you. If I'm scared about this, I can't imagine how you must feel. You shouldn't be alone. If you want, I could fly over for a few days. Friends."

Thirteen stared at him unbelievingly for a moment. It had been a long time since she'd seen Foreman be so considerate. For a moment, she could remember what had drawn her to him in the first place. She was more than a little overwhelmed. She hadn't a clue how to respond to him. She was so wary of giving something away, of breaking down, of letting on to the truth. She collected her thoughts and spoke carefully. "I appreciate that, but I think I'll be okay. I guess we took the long way around to being friends, huh?" She extended her hand to Foreman and clasped his tightly. She smiled warmly and genuinely before Richardson piled his hand atop theirs.

"I guess we all did," he said quietly.

Thirteen's smiled dropped as she rolled her eyes at Richardson. She let go of Foreman's hand and quickly returned to work. This case couldn't be resolved quickly enough.

In little over an hour Richardson was on the mend. Thirteen and Foreman rehydrated him and gave him a thorough reexamination. His symptoms had almost completely abated. Thirteen rushed him off to the ER before it was too late. Once there she found Chase waiting anxiously. As soon as he spotted them he waved them over and guided them to the DPH inspector. The inspector was mumbling something she didn't hear to Cuddy's assistant.

"Don't worry about it," Chase interrupted. "I believe you wanted to talk to Dr. Richardson, our neurosurgeon."

Richardson extended his hand to the inspector and spoke coherently for the first time in hours. "I'm sorry that we met under such trying circumstances. I hope you'll restore our rating as a level one trauma center and reopen the ER and ICU immediately."

"An accidental case of poisoning," Thirteen interjected. "Dr. Richardson has been treated and is ready to resume work."

"Hmm," the inspector considered. He looked at them all skeptically, he had already be lied to once. He looked at Richardson sharply, "Touch your nose with your index finger and tell me how you'd treat a cerebral contusion."

Richardson stammered a bit, but pulled himself together. "I would watch for edema and transtentorial herniation."

"Good enough," the inspector said. "Turn it around."

With the matter finally settled everyone set off for their own destinations. Thirteen set her sights on the exit while Chase chastised Cuddy's assistant. "Next time avoid responsibility," she heard him whisper before he turned to her. "Cake?" he asked. "Taub thought we should have a little party to see you off properly. He gets sentimental about these things."

With Chase showing no signs of leaving her be, she slowed to a more casual pace. "I never should have flashed him," she joked.

"Speaking of which," Chase started. "Earlier today I asked you about having sex. You gave me a look that almost certainly could only mean 'no'. However, on the other hand, I'd be remiss if I didn't follow up and confirm." Thirteen looked at him incredulously and tried not to laugh. "See, it's the same look," Chase said. He stepped in front of Thirteen and planted himself in her path. "So, if it didn't mean 'no' the first time then –"

Thirteen was having a hard time holding back a laugh at how ridiculous and awkward the situation was. "No," she finally said. She shook her head firmly. "No, no, no. No."

"No pressure," Chase replied.

"Does that method ever work?"

A bashful look came over Chase, "At least once."

Thirteen finally let out a small laugh. She was thankful to have her mood lightened, however briefly. She went to Chase and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. Once she embraced him it hit her how much things were about to change. It would be a long time before she had another light, silly moment. She shut her eyes tightly. In that moment she wanted to tell him everything. She wanted to hold on to him forever, to beg him to keep her safe from the terrifying changes taking place.

"I'm, um, getting mixed signals," Chase muttered after a while.

Thirteen released him quickly and patted him on the shoulder. "See you at the cake." She rushed off before he could see that she was crying.

Thirteen didn't bother to stop and pull herself together. She rushed to the team office, nearly running, and grabbed her things. She set out towards the parking garage. Her breathing was off kilter and she was wiping at her cheeks frantically, not caring anymore who saw. She reached for the tin in her pocket once more. This made four. She had reached her limit already. She slipped another Ativan into her mouth. This time, instead of swallowing, she let it dissolve under her tongue. By the time she reached Rachel's car it had melted away completely. Rachel was ready and waiting in the car. Thirteen slipped into the passenger's seat and turned to her desperately. "Get me out of here."

Thirteen and Rachel sat parked outside Thirteen's building. Neither of them had spoken since leaving the hospital. Thirteen hadn't made any attempt to leave the car and Rachel stayed by her side patiently. The silence was wearing on. The car was thick with words unsaid.

Rachel gave Thirteen a bit more time before she ventured a single tentative sentence, "How was the rest of your day?"

Thirteen stayed quiet for a while longer before she finally spoke. "It was fine. I diagnosed our neurosurgeon with poisoning due to toad eggs. We saved the hospital's level one status."

"Wow," Rachel said, genuinely impressed. "I have my very own magic elf working behind the scenes." Thirteen let out a soft, quiet laugh. "How was everything else? How are you feeling?"

"Kind of…numb. I maxed myself out on Ativan."

"I'm sorry. I know you don't like being drugged, but if they're helping–"

"They are. I don't think it was the drugs, not entirely. I just keep thinking about how different everything will be soon and it makes me feel empty," Thirteen said blankly. "And it's been a strange day. I had a lot of heart-to-hearts with the guys. Especially Taub."

"Oh? What'd he say?" Rachel asked. She watched Thirteen closely. She looked so fragile, as if she could crack at any moment. Rachel was afraid of what would happen once she stopped talking.

"He confronted me in the hallway. He told me he didn't want to pry, but if I needed anything, I knew where to find him."

"That was nice of him."

"He also promised not to tell House. Then he gave me a hug."

"That was awkward of him. Are you sure he wasn't just trying to cop a feel?"

"He didn't grope me, Rachel, he just gave me a hug," Thirteen chided, smacking Rachel's arm lightly.

"I'm just saying, ever since you flashed him he's been ogling you."

Thirteen laughed for a moment before sobering up. Her laughter sucked backwards into a gasp, quickly turning to heaving sobs. Tears fell down her face in thick streams as she found her way into Rachel's lap. Rachel wrapped herself around Thirteen as her body began to tremble. It wasn't long before Rachel herself began to well up. She held Thirteen as closely and as tightly as she could. The air grew heavy with their cries as salty rivers ran from them both.