Chapter 18: Telecommuting

On Monday morning, Wilson got up early so that he could make sure that everything was ready for House's first day home alone since his fall. He looked down at the coffee table, where everything was laid out: iPod, Gameboy, PSP, remotes for various pieces of electronic equipment, laptop computer, a stack of journals and a few magazines. He looked around; the fax machine and the dry-erase board were within arms reach. Finally he could delay no longer, and he had to head off to work, leaving House alone on the couch.

House amused himself destroying electronic critters until the phone rang. It was Foreman. After a few minutes of messing with the computer, they finally got the teleconferencing link working. As the fax machine began spitting out the patient file, Cameron was presenting the case. House began writing symptoms on the whiteboard, and when he looked up, he could see Foreman doing the same in the conference room. He watched as Cameron and Chase had a disagreement on a possible diagnosis, finally feeling that things were getting back to some semblance of normalcy.

At 11:30 AM, they were still waiting for the results of all of the tests, and House had been amusing himself with one of his new video games all morning. He had just turned on the television to watch the Young and the Restless when there was a knock at the door, which he ignored, but then he heard the sound of a key in the lock. He hid his irritation when he heard Cameron call out, "House? It's me, Cameron."

"I should have guessed that you'd be the first to volunteer for 'House-sitting' duty."

She smiled at the pun, ignoring the bitterness in his voice. She cleared a space on the coffee table and laid out a Ruben and a spinach salad. "What do you want to drink?" she asked.

"Cranberry juice with ice," he grudgingly replied. He watched as she wandered into his kitchen, trying hard not to look like she was checking out her boss's apartment. He sighed; she was only the first of many people that would invade his private sanctuary. She returned with his drink, and then to his surprise, pulled another spinach salad and a bottle of water out of the bag. She curled up in the chair next to the couch and began eating. He tensed, waiting for the inevitable questions about how he was feeling, but none came. She appeared to be watching the soap opera with the level of concentration usually reserved for brain surgery. When the credits were rolling, she took the takeout containers into the kitchen and got him a refill on the juice. She was picking up her keys when he finally spoke. "Any idea when the labs will be back?"

She shrugged. "Chase has been calling, but they're pretty backed up today. Foreman will fax them over as soon as they arrive."

That afternoon brought inconclusive test results and another troubling symptom. When Wilson arrived home at 7 PM, he found House stretched out on the couch, having a heated discussion with his fellows. He smiled, enjoying watching House in action. Once again he was grateful that Cuddy had come up with a plan to keep House occupied. By the time dinner was ready, they had apparently decided upon a course of treatment. The rest of the evening passed uneventfully.

At 5 AM, they were startled out of a sound sleep when the phone rang. Wilson answered, and then passed the phone over to House. From the side of the conversation he could hear, Wilson guessed that House's patient had taken a turn for the worse, and he made a mental note to talk to the team about limiting the late night and early morning calls, at least for the first few weeks. He sighed as he watched House limp out to the living room to continue the differential via teleconferencing. Wilson stumbled into the shower; might as well head in early and get caught up on his paperwork.

As the week progressed, the patient began to show some signs of improvement and on Thursday, the team took on two new patients: a mother and her two-week-old baby boy. On Friday, House and Cameron were again watching Y & R at lunchtime. Surprisingly, of all of his fellows invading his space, he found he minded her the least. Maybe because she did the most convincing job pretending to watch the soap opera. Or maybe she really was interested in the goings on in Genoa City. On Wednesday, she'd even asked him about the backstory on one of the main characters.

When the show was over, she was about to head to the kitchen when he stopped her with a question. "So, how come you've pulled House-duty three times this week when Chase and Foreman have only been here once each?"

She sat down and frantically tried to come up with an excuse for them, but was stopped by her boss's piercing stare. Finally she was forced to admit, "I think your condition makes them a little nervous."

She was startled to hear the hint of laughter in his voice. "Do they think it's contagious? Where'd they go to med school?"

"Some lame schools where they probably teach you that only women can get pregnant. I can see why they're a little spooked. I can't see either of them putting themselves through all of this," she gestured to the couch where he was confined.

"Tell them they don't have to worry. If they ever have a conversation with someone they know for sure is dead, they should make it very clear that they don't want a baby. That should do it."

"Is that what happened?" she ventured, knowing that personal questions had always been met with anger and sarcasm.

He was staring off into space, remembering. "She said she would give me what I needed." His voice was soft and she had to listen intently to hear his words. "Why this? Months of bedrest and pain, and she probably won't make it."

"But maybe she will," Cameron suggested.

He shrugged noncommittally, and wouldn't meet her eyes.

She picked up the plates and went to put them away. She picked up her keys, but before she reached the door, she turned to look back at the man on the couch. "It's OK to want this." She watched as House stared down at the baseball in his hands, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the ball. She sighed. "You can pretend you aren't hopeful, but if you didn't think there was a chance, you wouldn't be risking your life."

His face was expressionless. "Patients are idiots."

She was almost out the door when she countered, "everyone lies."