Thanks to krazefgirl for her note to me on Alzheimer's. I know I bit off a rather big bite when I decided to make Marcus a sufferer. Storywise it's dramatic and all that, but it's a difficult illness to describe. It's a horrible, horrible disease and it takes its victims very differently depending on which parts of the brain is affected; eventually, of course, it destroys the brains completely. I'm no doctor, so my explanations are simplified according to the best of my understanding – which, naturally, can be faulty. For better information visit the web-sites of either The Alzheimer's Foundation of America or Alzheimer's Society (UK). And if you are already only too familiar with this disease through knowing or caring for someone who has it: May God bless you and give you strength.
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House limped into the diagnostics room to find Chase and Cameron there with Aiko.
"So did you scare Gilmar away or did you decide to just send her home before she changed her mind?" House asked them on his way to greet Aiko.
"We sent her home," Chase answered. "We figured it would be in our best interest to make sure she came back tomorrow. That way you'll have fresh meat for your grinder and we'll get a moment of peace from your tormenting."
"You know, normally that would have sent you to the clinic to do my hours," House admonished him. "But today I need something from you, so I'll overlook your insolence. Are you and Cameron doing anything special tonight?"
"We haven't done anything together for some time," Chase pointed out. "And I'm not doing anything even separately tonight. Cameron?"
"No, I have no plans," Cameron revealed. "Why?"
"John Henry Giles gave me tickets, or actually they turned out to be VIP passes, to the club he's playing in tonight," House told them. "I'm going to try and persuade Cuddy to come with me but that won't be an easy task. I think I'll need at least three doctors in the house for the night before I'll have even a chance to get her to agree."
"Can she go with you?" Cameron wondered. "I mean, she gave birth only ten days ago and isn't she breastfeeding?"
"She has recovered well, but obviously we will come home the moment she wants to," House decided not to snap at her – Foreman had probably done enough of that already. "And while it's true that the Trips get most of their nourishment from Yummy Mummy, they get it in a bottle. There are three of them you know."
"That should work," Chase nodded. "I'm certainly free to come, and with Wilson and Dr Higa you'll have your doctors even if Cameron cannot make it. And I think you might want to ask Foreman, too. He'll probably appreciate having something else to think about than his brother."
"I can't do that if Cameron is coming," House alleged.
"Why not?!" Cameron asked indignantly.
"Cause he is already hiding from you and your caring," House simpered.
"I just told him that if he needs someone to talk to I'm here," Cameron explained a little huffily.
"We all know that you are here for all of us," House pointed out. "You're almost as bad as Wilson for needing to be needed. Sometimes, you know, you just need to leave people alone. But having said that, tonight I need you to be there for the kiddies. Can you?"
"Yes, I have no plans other than cleaning and I'm certainly willing to postpone that," Cameron promised. "And if you invite Foreman to join us, you can tell him that I promised to devote myself to the kiddies alone, so he won't be bothered by my caring."
"Excellent," House exclaimed as he slowly limped into his office with Aiko crawling (with great determination) by his side. "Get to the house by seven."
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Before entering his brother's room Eric stopped for a deep breath. It had been years and he really didn't know what to expect on the other side of the door. But he could feel House's eyes on his back and he refused to act like a coward, so he opened the door and stepped inside.
"So the Chosen One decided to come and see me after all," Marcus remarked from the bed. His tone was surprisingly mild for the words – though Eric didn't realise it.
"I wish you'd stop calling me that," Eric sighed with exasperation, yet feeling almost at home with the sound of his brother's voice meeting him. Somehow the bad parts of the past didn't matter now, this was Marcus, and this might be one of the last times this really was Marcus. "It wasn't that good a joke to start with and it got old real fast even when it was new."
"And what makes you think it was a joke?" Marcus frowned at his brother. "You were chosen from a whole bunch of pupils to have a future. I'm not saying that it wasn't a good thing for you, nor that you didn't make good of the opportunity offered to you, but you were not the only one who deserved a chance, you were just the only one who was offered one."
"What do you mean?" Eric wondered. "They kept telling us all that we need to study to make something of ourselves. Heck, that was the theme of every gathering at school that there was!"
"Yeah, but how many of us were actually singled out?" Marcus reminded him. "How many were lectured individually? How many were given a chance to retake exams? How many were given extra tuition? How many of us did the teachers bother to believe in?"
"You make it sound like I was the teachers pet or something!" Eric stared. "Yeah, they forced me to work, but I wasn't the only one!"
"Actually, you pretty much were," Marcus shook his head at his brother. "I can't believe that you still haven't got it! I can understand that as a teenager you didn't look much beyond appearances. None of us really did. Thinking about others and their motivations are not things teens do much. But you're not a teen now. You've been out of there for years. Surely you have realized things about our school by now!"
"Honestly, Marcus, I have no idea what you're talking about," Eric was quite puzzled. "I always thought you were angry at me for leaving; first for leaving the gang, then not hanging out with you and finally leaving the whole neighbourhood."
"For a smart guy, brother, you have always been singularly unaware of what is going on around you," Marcus smiled patronisingly, almost resembling House for a second there. "I never hated or even resented you; it was all aimed at the teachers and their hypocrisy. Yeah, I know, it was a crappy school, with no money, low salaries for the teachers and they didn't even have all the material they needed for teaching! But they could still have done more! They chose you because you are really smart. They saw that you could be a doctor or a lawyer or something like that and possibly even famous at it. They wanted someone who would make a mark in this world. Someone who would, at some point, give a speech somewhere in public and thank his old school and teachers for giving him a chance to become something. You were chosen to be the sop for their consciences. You were the one they could say at least we saved him. You gave them absolution so that they don't need to think of all the kids they failed. Yes, they chose a few others, too, over the years. But they also ignored many they could have helped. And I'm not talking about myself. I don't know what would have helped with me since getting caught for the first time didn't do it."
"You were always so angry," Eric pondered. "Always lashing out and acting before thinking."
"So were you," Marcus reminded him. "We were a lot alike. Still are; though you are now a hot-shot neurologist and have learned better control. Good for you. At least there is someone who made it. ... So, I met your boss. He seems ok. Probably a real bastard, but ok. How did he react to finding out that you have a brother in jail?"
"With glee," Eric summarised. "He knew about you already, as he knew about my juvenile record too."
"I thought that was sealed?" Marcus wondered.
"When House wants something, he usually gets it," Eric informed his brother. "He had a hunch and he followed it until he got what he wanted. It's a good quality when he is solving a medical problem, but when it's aimed at you and something you'd rather keep a secret, it sucks."
"I bet he has reminded you of your past every day ever since you started to work for him," Marcus smiled almost gleefully.
"Yes! About that and about coming from the slums and about being black," Eric ground out from between his teeth. "He takes great delight in abusing me."
Marcus laughed out loud: "Oh, man! You must hate it here." He stopped and sighed. "But still you stay. And I have a sneaking suspicion that you actually like the man, despite his abuse."
"He is a brilliant doctor," Eric admitted. "And somehow he grows on you. Like fungus, I think. And now he has kids and he's letting us – me and the rest of his team – help with taking care of them, and ... I don't know. Suddenly, I have a second family."
"I see," Marcus frowned a little. "Are you forgetting the one you already have? I don't mean me. I got you in trouble the first time, for you to keep your distance now is understandable. But I mean Mom and Dad."
"No, I'm not forgetting," Eric said – not meeting his brother's eyes. "But I have a very demanding job and I don't know what point is there to go home when Mother doesn't even know me anymore. I phone often, but even when I tell her who I am, half way through the call she forgets again. I do send Dad as much money as I can, so at least he doesn't need to worry about that too much."
"You really should visit," Marcus said. "Even if Mom doesn't know you, it would help Dad. I know he says he is fine, but he just says that. It's not really true."
"Everybody lies," Eric repeated. At Marcus' questioning look he explained. "That's what House always says. That's why he never trusts patients or their family. They always lie or leave out something they decide the doctor doesn't need to know."
"And does he lie to the patient?" Marcus wanted to know.
"Often," Eric divulged. "Though once he has the diagnosis, he does tell the truth. And rather bluntly, too."
"Yeah, I know," Marcus reminded Eric. "I sort of have first hand experience of that. He painted a pretty grim picture for me, about my illness. I can then trust that it was true?"
"Unfortunately," Eric granted. "It really is not possible to exaggerate the effects of Alzheimer's."
"He said there won't be any personality changes," Marcus mused. "That I cannot expect to become docile like mother."
"That is highly unlikely," Eric agreed. "And I haven't seen anything in the old injuries either, to suggest that they would cause anything like that. Besides, you have already had episodes of inexplicable rage, so it's more than likely that those will continue. Docility is not going to come to you for a long time yet. Of course, the course this illness takes is different with everyone though the broad lines are same for all. But it destroys the brain, bit by bit, and eventually even the parts that control breathing and the heart. Most people, especially when it's the more common variation starting after the age 65, never get to that part but die of other causes mostly pneumonia, stroke or heart attack. The average time an Alzheimer's patient lives is five to seven years, but anything from one year to 20 is possible."
"And what about meds? I know there is no cure, but does anything slow it down?" Marcus asked.
"There are some drugs that work for some people, but so far there is nothing that works for everyone," Eric didn't see any point in giving false hope. "There is research done on it, and obviously I follow it all pretty keenly, but so far nothing will even stop it let alone cure it. There are couple of drugs that slow it down if taken during the early stages and we are going to try those on you, but since your Alzheimer's probably started this early because of the drugs and head injuries, we have no way of knowing if those drugs work. We will try though and hope for the best."
"Doesn't really seem worth it," Marcus sighed. "I'm not exactly contributing to the good of the society now and with this... well I'm never gonna now, am I?"
"Probably not," Eric had to admit. "But that does not mean you shouldn't get proper care. When you have your parole hearing, they will take your medical condition into consideration. Depending on how far it has advanced by then, there may be time to change something."
"Didn't you just say something about my inexplicable rages?" Marcus pointed out ruefully. "How are those going to fit in with these changes you think might happen?" Eric didn't say anything. "I didn't think so. Look, House said that he will send a lawyer to me to help write some papers that state how I want to be looked after once I'm that far gone. Will you come, too, and help me write them? I need to be sure that neither Dad nor you get saddled with me, if this thing takes me the way Dr House predicted."
"If you really want me to, yes, I'll be there," Eric promised.
"You know, that boss of yours does know things," Marcus suddenly smiled.
"Like what now?" Eric wondered.
"Regardless of the past, or even the present or future, we are brothers," Marcus extended his free hand to Eric who took it – first time for he couldn't even remember in how many years. "That really is the only thing that matters. The only thing that's real in all this."
"Yeah, he just might have got that right," Eric nodded.