Disclaimer: I don't own House and I don't own Scars.

"Where's House?" Kutner asked the obvious question as the clock in the DDx room approached 11 AM. This was beyond late for work - even for House. They had a dying patient and his attending was sleeping in?

"Not here," Taub replied with annoyance. Sometimes, Kutner just talked for the sake of talking. Honestly, whatever House was doing was probably the right thing to do. Even when the older diagnostician should be wrong, he ended up right. It was better to just accept that fact and let the chaos and craziness play out on its own.

"This isn't right. Why should House be able to sleep in and pop pills and enjoy his own, twisted version of bliss when we have a dying child? A dying child, who even with dialysis, is going to be done for in less than 48 hours and we can't even put him on a transplant list because we don't know what's wrong with him? I can believe a lot of the things House does, but this I can't. How do you just leave a child?" Kutner ranted angrily, before getting up and stalking out of the room. "I'm going to talk to Cameron. We have to be missing something."

[Line Break]

"Will you tell me anything?" Wilson asked House, who was sitting on his couch at the moment, dressed for work but just refusing to go in.

"Actually, no," House responded, and took another drink of his coffee. At this point, he was more pissed that he couldn't figure out what was wrong with his patient. Self-mutilation, kidney failure, sore joints, refusal to eat, terrified of his Dad, but maybe abuse wasn't the answer... What was missing?

Wilson was more frustrated with the fact that his best friend wasn't telling him anything about his childhood. The oncologist took a deep breath and told himself, "House will tell you things, bits and pieces at a time, if you give him a chance. Just let him open up. Just don't get upset and angry. You can't lose your cool around him." Then he spoke aloud, "Just know I'm here if you want to tell me anything," and he excused himself to the restroom.

Once Wilson was into the bathroom and had shut the door, he pulled out his cell phone and was greeted with the sight of seven new text messages, thirteen missed calls, and eight voicemails. He groaned and called Cuddy. Not two rings later, she picked up the phone. "Wilson! Where on earth are you?" she screeched into his ear.

"I'm at House's apartment with him. We had a bit of a breakdown last night and he needs the morning to process. I'm sorry, I should've called you earlier. I did have my secretary reschedule my appointments for later this afternoon," Wilson explained to his boss.

"What kind of a breakdown? His leg? How bad is he hurting?" Cuddy's voice immediately softened. She couldn't help it; she cared about the most broken man she'd ever met.

"No, Cuddy, not his leg today," the brown-eyed oncologist sighed before continuing, "He came into my office last night and I got him all riled up - you know, I wanted to know things about his childhood - and he ended up screaming some very vague confessions at me, then telling me he was disgusting for not stopping the abuse himself as a little kid, and apologizing for gracing me with his horrendous presence. Now, I'm at his apartment and he refuses to really look at me... again, I think he just wants to understand what happened," Wilson finally finished. Cuddy gave them both the next couple of hours off and told Wilson if both of their asses weren't into PPTH by 1:30, there would be a problem. Wilson agreed and hung up the phone, exiting the bathroom.

House had sunk farther back into Wilson's couch, not really listening to what he said and vaguely acknowledging that there was one less person in the room with him. When he heard the door opening from the restroom, House thought to himself, "Just tell him one thing. One really, really small thing. Not much. You can tell him one thing, anything. Get this off your mind and then focus on the patient. His clock is ticking." Then, Wilson walked out of the bathroom and peered over the couch at House, who appeared to be in deep thought. Really, the younger doctor did feel bad for his friend. Now, knowing how cold House's father had seemed, he could only imagine the degree of abuse inflicted upon a young Gregory House. He shuddered at the thought and asked, "House?"

[Line Break]

"Hey, Cam, how are you feeling today?" Kutner greeted the young child with feigned happiness. He knew he would die soon if they couldn't figure out what was wrong. The Indian doctor's fake smile dropped some as he saw Cameron grab his lips and pinch them, then bite at his fingers. He gently reached for the boy's fingers and pulled them away from his mouth, then held his hand in his, knowing this could very well be some of Cameron's last physical human contact. "Why do you hurt yourself, Cameron?" Kutner asked gently.

"It feels like the right thing to do. Like, it hurts, but I can't help it," he boy answered with a downcast look. Kutner gave the child a look of pity and asked him if there was anything else, anything he wasn't telling the doctors. Cameron shook his head again and looked up through his now-shaggy hair. The little boy had lost far too much weight since being admitted to the hospital - he'd been eating less and less the sicker he got. Ribs poked through the pediatric-printed gown and sharp elbows jutted out from too-long sleeves that draped over Cameron's arms. He started to shake, ever so slightly, and big crocodile tears slid down his face. "Am I going to die? I'm going to die, aren't I? And where's my Dad?" he mumbled to Kutner.

Not sure how to answer, Kutner licked his lips and scratched the back of his head. His young patient just looked up at him expectantly, but as if he already knew the answers to his questions. "We're gonna get you better, okay Cam? If I trust anyone to figure out what's wrong with you, it's my boss. Okay?"

"Okay, I guess," Cameron answered and pierced his lip with his teeth, then turned over and shut his eyes with tears still squeezing their way out. Moments later, Thirteen entered the room and saw Kutner hanging over the bedside of the fitfully sleeping patient. "How is he today?" she asked.

"Not trusting when I say House can figure out what's wrong, but still fighting pretty hard," he responded dryly.

"Why are you so attached to this little boy? Kids die all the time, and sure, it's sad, but it's a fact and we can't mourn the loss of every one of them," the female doctor tried to reason without sounding cold. She wanted the child to be okay, but if he wasn't, life would go on.

"He's a nice kid," the other doctor answered plainly, then added after some thinking, "I think House is right about him being abused, I just don't think it's connected."

"What makes you think that?" Thirteen asked, concerned although she had had her suspicions. Social services had kept Cameron's angry father away from his son without giving the child the knowledge as to why that was the case, he just thought his dad had been at meetings and working, leaving him alone with his doctors. Obviously, he had expected him to still be gone while he was in the hospital.

"Just a weird feeling. I just feel like I need to protect him because no one else is, and House doesn't to seem to care all that much."

"We'll figure it out. Today. Soon. He's not going to die, Kutner, he's not ready yet," Thirteen asserted.

[Line Break]

"Wilson," House spoke confidently. He turned quickly to look at his best friend, who was looking at him intently. "If I tell you something, do you promise not to ask any questions?" House had his begging, please-just-help-me look in his bright blue eyes.

The oncologist thought for a moment. If House left something open-ended, he'd want to ask what else there was he wasn't being told but would run the risk of House never opening up again. This was his one shot to not screw it up. "Okay," he agreed.

House turned back towards the black TV and took a minute to compose himself. "Nothing's going to happen just because you tell Wilson. The world is not going to suck anymore today than it did yesterday. One thing, just pick anything to tell him," he mentally instructed himself. Knowing he owed it to himself and Wilson to do this, the diagnostician sighed and looked ahead as Wilson wandered around and sat on a chair silently. House gathered his thoughts and decided on one thing to talk about. "All throughout my childhood, and adolescence, until I finally moved out after my senior year of high school, I'd get these ice baths for just about every offense," House trailed off to organize his thoughts while Wilson looked down. He couldn't imagine having his own father give him an ice bath, and he didn't even know the specifics of House's father's idea of a punishment. "They were miserable, if I could pick one word to describe them."

"I don't know how you want me to talk about this, Wilson."

Not sure if he should answer or not, Wilson responded quietly with, "Just do your best. I couldn't even fathom-"

House's head snapped up when Wilson responded. "Are you kidding me?" he raised his voice.

"What?" Wilson answered, trying to stay calm in order to avoid upsetting House.

"For the past week, it's been, 'House, talk to someone about this! House, I'm going to tell Cuddy so we can get you help! It will help to talk!' and now you're having a hard time responding to me because it's sounds bad? Now you're giving me room to go about this how I want? You have no idea what happened between me and that god forsaken man for eighteen years. You never will know. The only reason you're responding in this way is because you want to make it look like you understand what the hell I went through!"

"House-"

"No, don't. Don't try to make it sound like you feel bad about pushing me to tell you all about my Daddy issues. You don't feel guilty at all. You just wanted to see me miserable-" House took a gasp of air and sucked himself back into a flashback of his father- "you're not doing this for me, it's all for you!"

"House, I'm telling you-"

"You're just another one of those sadistic bastards that says that what you're doing hurts you more than me, but you're just saying that because you like hearing about how terrible of a childhood I had." House had dropped his voice at this point. He stood up and grabbed his cane, then began pacing back and forth like a caged lion.

"I'm not asking you to talk because I want to hear how you suffered. I just think it's good to talk about things sometimes, House," Wilson answered gently but irritatedly.

"Hard to talk when you act like you're going to puke whenever I bring it up," House answered bitterly.

"I'm sorry, it's just hard to swallow hearing that your best friend was abused as a child!" Wilson stood up and raised his voice.

Hearing this, House looked Wilson hard in the eye and turned to leave the apartment, grabbing his keys and jacket on the way out.

[Line Break]

Thirteen, Taub, and Foreman sat in the DDx room, pondering any other possible causes for Cameron's rapid decline without much success. Kutner was still at the boy's bedside, trying to talk to him about his favorite movies, video games, toys, anything to keep his mind off the fact he probably wouldn't last until the end of the day.

"There's just not enough symptoms to work with here," Foreman complained.

Suddenly, a tall figure with a limp and cane stumbled into the DDx room. "Unless you idiots missed something," House spat at his team.

"Where the hell have you been all morning while we were stuck here with a dying five-year-old?" Taub's voice became sharp as he looked up at his boss.

"Masturbating." The diagnostician had already thrown off his jacket and turned on his heel out the door, down to the kid's room. The door slid open and House started with, "Kutner, out."

"I'm the one who's been here all morning! Don't screw with him, House. His last few hours should be spent happily," Kutner argued.

"I have the answer that you idiots missed. Leave," House barked again, and Kutner promptly left after shooting House a dirty look, then the door slid closed again behind him.

"You been eating much since you got here, kiddo?" House sat down next to his patient's bed, rubbing his thigh. Cameron shook his head overly hard and his neck popped loudly. "Didn't want to, really."

"Hey, don't do that to your neck." House opened up his backpack and pulled out one of the packages of fruit snacks he kept in there and opened it, then set it down on Cameron's tray. "This is important. Eat those for me." Cameron asked why then did as he was told, but struggled every time he had to swallow a bite. House sent an emergency page to his team as soon as the little boy was done.

The team came almost running in, then stopping abruptly when they saw their boss just sitting by a still-breathing patient's bed. "You emergency paged?" Thirteen breathed out.

"Lesch-Nyhan Syndrome," House stopped to pull out another package of fruit snacks to hand to the kid, "watch how he swallows while he eats them." The little boy did just as he did the first time, still having difficulty getting his food down.

"It's hard to swallow. Which is the last symptom of Lesch-Nyhan," Foreman reasoned, "but we didn't figure it out from grainy kidney stones and self-mutilation?"

"Apparently not. You idiots. The kidney stones show up because he overproduces uric acid, damaging the kidneys. He's probably been having this type of stone since he was a baby, Daddy Dearest just didn't pay enough attention. Now, go call up his father and tell him what's going on."

"If you know what's wrong with me, I'm going to be okay, right?" the confused little boy asked innocently. Nobody moved, they all knew the prognosis for Lesch-Nyhan. He'd be lucky to last until age twenty.

"Get his Dad in here. I don't care where he's at or what he's doing." House.

Thirteen left the room to call Cameron's father and he was there an hour later, e-mailing someone as he walked into the room. "Well?" he asked impatiently.

House cut straight to the chase. "Your son has Lesch-Nyhan syndrome. That's what's been making his kidneys fail, be sore all over, and self-mutilate."

"And? He'll be fine, why was I just pulled away from work?"

Cameron's small voice came up from his bed. "He's really busy, he has to work. You guys can just call him later since I'm okay."

"Shut up, Cameron, no adult wants to hear what you have to say," his father spat.

"Stay here with the kid," House instructed his team, and led the father outside. "Lesch-Nyhan is serious, and your son has a full blown case of it," the diagnostician urged. He was telling himself to stop, stop investing himself in this, but he couldn't. He was turning into the skinny, brunette Cameron.

"What about it? Treat him. You have my consent."

"This is serious. It doesn't go away with treatment, all it might do is handle symptoms. It'll be a miracle if he makes it to age twenty. And you don't care?" House was thoroughly disgusted with this shitty excuse of a father. He was worse than his own. He paced farther down the hall, out of the sight of the child's room with the businessman trailing behind.

The other man paused, as if taking in what his son's doctor had just told him. "He'll be fine," he finally said. "I never liked the kid that much anyway. Was always in the way, always asking questions, just a general pain in the ass. Probably his fault his mother left me."

House was almost shaking with anger at this point. He sounded just like his own father. His fault, in the way, never liked you. He knew, he just knew he was abusing his son, even if that didn't cause his symptoms. With everything in him, House reared his arm back and threw a punch at the dad. A few seconds later, and the last thing he remembered was swinging his cane out and tripping backwards.

A/N: Oh my gosh. I'm sorry it took so long. :( I just had to keep re-writing it... but I made it really long, and I hope you guys like it! I just kept changing little details, and I had a devil of a time trying to decide how to make House have his little "epiphany." Ugh. But it's finally done! Super pumped because the next few chapters should hopefully go quick, then the story will be over!

Please let me know what you think! If you liked it, you hated it, leave me a little review!