12.03pm "House?" House recognised that voice, but did not open his eyes. His body clock said that it was several hours after Dr Little had put him out. "House, we know you're awake."
"We?" House thought. The owner of that voice was Dr Foreman, one of the only doctors House respected. But he preferred to work alone, much like House himself, so him being in a group was sufficient reason for House to open his eyes.
The sight that greeted him wasn't an encouraging one. Foreman was standing at the bottom of House's bed with several of House's other fellows, both past and present. Foreman was holding a chart, looking grim. Cameron was also there, with tears in her eyes, being comforted by Chase, her ex. More worryingly, Thirteen was also crying. A Huntington's sufferer who had lost a mother, euthanised her brother and served jail time, anything making her show even a small amount of emotion was not going to be good.
House thought back to the last time all of his fellows had been together looking at him like this. They had thought he had neurosyphillis. Somehow he got the feeling this was worse news.
Foreman glanced at the others, then cleared his throat and turned to House. "House... the MRI revealed a problem. You've got a epidural haematoma, and it's too late to do anything about. I'm sorry". House immediately felt all of his aches go away, instead replaced by a numbness that was a thousand times worse. How many times had he mocked patients for not being able to take this new, only for him to have to receive it.
"How long?" he asked, once again hating the clich s coming out of his mouth, but still needing to know. Foreman glanced at the clock above House's bed.
"About 6 hours. Roughly until 6 o'clock. Maybe less, not much more." House felt his vision go blurred, but still saw his fellows leave the room. He was grateful for their bedside manners that he had never mastered, and now never would.
"We?" House thought. The owner of that voice was Dr Foreman, one of the only doctors House respected. But he preferred to work alone, much like House himself, so him being in a group was sufficient reason for House to open his eyes.
The sight that greeted him wasn't an encouraging one. Foreman was standing at the bottom of House's bed with several of House's other fellows, both past and present. Foreman was holding a chart, looking grim. Cameron was also there, with tears in her eyes, being comforted by Chase, her ex. More worryingly, Thirteen was also crying. A Huntington's sufferer who had lost a mother, euthanised her brother and served jail time, anything making her show even a small amount of emotion was not going to be good.
House thought back to the last time all of his fellows had been together looking at him like this. They had thought he had neurosyphillis. Somehow he got the feeling this was worse news.
Foreman glanced at the others, then cleared his throat and turned to House. "House... the MRI revealed a problem. You've got a epidural haematoma, and it's too late to do anything about. I'm sorry". House immediately felt all of his aches go away, instead replaced by a numbness that was a thousand times worse. How many times had he mocked patients for not being able to take this new, only for him to have to receive it.
"How long?" he asked, once again hating the clich s coming out of his mouth, but still needing to know. Foreman glanced at the clock above House's bed.
"About 6 hours. Roughly until 6 o'clock. Maybe less, not much more." House felt his vision go blurred, but still saw his fellows leave the room. He was grateful for their bedside manners that he had never mastered, and now never would.