I will neither give a deadly drug to anybody who asked for it, nor will I make a suggestion to this effect.
- Hippocratic Oath
*****
A different morning than usual, the fellows were attempting to find a case that House would be interested in treating. "Sixty-eight year old male, non-smoker..." 13 started to suggest.
House, clearly uninterested, stopped her, "Sixty-eight's a good run. That'll leave something in the lockbox for the rest of us. Next!"
"Twenty month old baby, persistent rash, fever..." Amber tried.
"Too much crying."
"Female college student with..." Hotch began.
"Too much drama."
Foreman sighed, "You don't care about the crying or the drama because you won't see the patient. And you'd treat Methuselah if his snot had an interesting color. It means you've already decided which case you wanna take next."
"Tell me about Speed Racer," he said.
Brennan flipped through his file, reading off, "Female, seizure with visual and auditory processing deficiency. I did a consult and..."
House cut him off, "What kind of race car?"
"Dragster," Brennan replied.
That seemed to increase House's interest. "Continue."
"You're gonna take a case based on the car she drives?" Cole asked incredulously.
House smiled, "Nothing says 'thanks for saving my life' like a test drive in a car that accelerates faster than a space shuttle."
"You can't save her life because she's not dying," Foreman reminded, "Her lab shows signs of dehydration, means the problem is just likely heatstroke."
"Kinda hard to get heat-struck in four and a half seconds," House argued.
"Not when you're wearing a three layer fireproof suit," Rossi pointed out.
There was a cautious creaking as the door at the back of the room was pushed open to admit a man wearing a black suit. "Excuse me," he said, his voice deep and gravelly. Everyone turned to look at the intruder. "Dr. House?" he asked as he neared the front of the room. Everyone turned to look at House, apprehension thick on the air.
House shrugged, "No, lazy ass called in sick again. We can give him a message."
The man pulled out a picture of House, looked at it for a second before looking back up at House, triumphant. "May we talk in private?"
House considered for a moment, the fellows wondering what kind of trouble he could possibly be in this time, not that any of them seemed surprised. As House stood to follow the man out of the room he said, "So, either it's heatstroke, in which case we take the afternoon off or it's one of the diagnoses that you guys are gonna have for me in two minutes."
As House left the room, Foreman prepared to take over the diagnostic session while the fellows seemed more interested in the suit-clad stranger. "Cop?" Taub wondered aloud.
"He's not packing," JJ pointed out.
"Your dad's wither a cop or a security guard," Amber assumed.
"Or she carries a weapon," Kutner added. JJ only smiled mysteriously.
"How about we concentrate on our possibly dying patient," Foreman snapped.
After a few minutes of theorizing, House reentered the room, the man in the suit not far behind. "Okay, what do you got?"
"Hereditary brain disorder, transient ischemia, or paraneoplastic syndrome," Brennan listed, "None of those go away with IV fluids, it's heatstroke."
"Or Cushing's or calcium deficiency," House said.
"Who's your friend?" Kutner couldn't resist asking.
House, of course, couldn't resist a joke, "We use the term 'life partner'." The man didn't seem to take kindly to that. House pulled on his coat, preparing to leave, and instructed the fellows, "Get a fresh history, neurological exam, and and MRI of her head."
They all exchanged a look as House followed the stranger out of the room. The team's consensus was that, whoever he was, he certainly looked official. Hotch and Reid surreptitiously slipped out the back of the room after House, eventually cornering them in the stairwell. They caught the tailend of a conversation, House saying, "Little advice, I mean, obviously the Village People played out the whole cop thing. But come on, CIA? Do you seriously expect anyone to believe that?"
"Dr. House?" Reid called, playing his role as a diversion while Hotch spoke to the stranger. He began a spiel of questions related to the patient, arguing that she might have some outrageous illness not among those they had previously postulated.
Hotch turned to the stranger and pulled out his badge, "SSA Aaron Hotchner, FBI."
The stranger eyed him suspiciously, seeing as he was wearing a lab coat, but eventually pulled his own badge from a pocket, "Agent Smith, CIA."
"What is your interest with Dr. House?" Hotch quizzed.
"One of our employees just returned from an assignment sick, we believe that he may be the victim of an assassination attempt. We need Dr. House's expertise to diagnose what he is afflicted with," Agent Smith explained.
"We've been charged with protecting Dr. House from a possible attempt on his life..." Hotch started to warn.
"Don't worry, he'll be at CIA Headquarters, under constant supervision. No one will know he's there, no one will be able to get near him," Smith reassured.
Hotch, moderately placated, ordered, "Anything happens, we need to know, you contact Penelope Garcia at Quantico."
Smith gave a terse nod and continued towards the roof. "Dr. House, we need to hurry."
House brushed past Reid and limped behind Agent Smith. "Yeah, we need to hurry." Clearly, he was still skeptical that they were actually headed to the CIA.
******
"The CIA needs his help in diagnosing a possible assassination attempt," Hotch informed the others while they worked in the lab.
Rossi gave a pithy laugh, "What are the chances it happens while we're on the case?"
"So, what happens if someone attacks him while he's consulting?" Morgan asked, "Shouldn't one of us be going with him?"
"You don't think the CIA is capable of protecting him?" Hotch asked.
"He's going to a hospital not an armory..." Morgan reminded.
Just then, Foreman walked past the lab and Emily stood. "Excuse me, I need to speak with Er – I mean, Dr. Foreman."
Morgan glared as, through the glass wall, he watched Emily approach Foreman who smiled warmly and placed a hand on her upper arm. JJ followed his gaze and turning back, quietly asked, "Does that have something to do with your sudden bad mood yesterday?"
"She kissed him..." he said distantly.
"Yeah, right," JJ scoffed, "Emily Prentiss jeopardize a case by getting personally involved with a superior?" She shook her head, "Doesn't sound like something she'd do..."
"Fine," Morgan snapped, "Don't believe me, but I'm telling the truth." He looked up again, just in time to see Foreman take Emily's hand in his. He dropped it again just as quickly as Amber turned the corner, heading straight for him. "Hey Reid, don't look now, but here comes Amber..." Morgan jibed. His demeanor brightened slightly as Reid looked about anxiously, giving a small yelp of alarm, while JJ scowled.
******
At the front of the lecture theatre, Foreman scrawled on the whiteboard a list of the patient's symptoms. "Fever and delirium rule out Miller-Fisher," he narrated, negating their earlier theory, "MS fits better."
"Progression's too fast," Cole argued, "More likely meningitis."
"Areflexia doesn't fit as well with..." Foreman started to say.
"Does with amyloidosis," 13 interrupted.
"That's even slower than MS," Taub said, "It's lupus."
"I'm with the little man on this one," Amber agreed with Taub, "It's attacking the body and the brain, classic autoimmune."
"Lupus this aggressive wouldn't spare her kidneys," Foreman said, "It's primarily neurological. Let's start on her..."
Once again he was cut off, this time by Brennan, "Why no plaques on her MRI?"
"MRI was inconclusive," Reid pointed out.
Brennan ignored him, speaking to Foreman, "So, now you're sure that it's MS, just like you were sure it was Miller-Fisher an hour after you were sure it was heatstroke?"
"The symptoms fit, start her on interferon," Foreman ordered.
That didn't seem to fit well with most of the fellows. "We're not gonna score any points with House if we solve this just by running your errands," Kutner said.
"I get that you want to be right," Foreman sighed.
"You don't?" Cole asked skeptically.
"I'm just trying to save a patient, not score points with my boss."
"Would it hurt the patient if you let us run some tests?" Emily asked gently, giving Foreman a pleading look, knowing that the impending feud could easily be prevented.
Foreman looked up at her and softened. "You've got three hours."
******
Foreman paced at the front of the room, glaring at Amber and Taub, an overwhelming silence filling the room. Kutner was the first to dare break it, "Paralysis," he cited the latest symptom, "It's a new symptom? Big white space on the board where it would fit? Nice, multicolored markers?" he prompted, making exaggerated writing motions in the air.
"I'm not writing it because we can't know if it's a real symptom," Foreman said angrily. Indicating Amber and Taub, he continued, "When these two went rogue and pumped her full of steroids..."
Taub cut him off, "Steroids don't cause paralysis."
"She was also on interferon. Giving her both probably fried her immune system," Foreman pointed out, "Who knows what infection you could cause..."
"Yes, they've ignored you, they screwed up," 13 interjected, "And it's fun watching you spank them, but can we get back to the medicine?"
"The last thing any of you give a damn about is the medicine!" Foreman shouted. Most of the fellows at least had the sense to look apologetic. Emily felt the guilt over her mistake once again well up inside and when Foreman looked out at the fellows, he noticed the tears sparkling in her eyes. He sat down and took a deep, calming breath before saying, "Look, I'm not saying you're bad doctors or bad people, but House is. He created a nasty little cut-throat world, planted you in it, and is watching you play. And none of it works for anyone except him."
"And whoever wins," Amber cut in. Foreman glared at her.
Everyone seemed to regain their senses. "It's progressing very quickly," Hotch noted, remembering an early case the team had worked on, "We should assume botulism."
"I'll go to her place, check out her fridge and pantry," Kutner seemed to agree with his idea.
From a segregated corner, Brennan suddenly stood and announced, "It's not botulism, it's polio." The room went dead silent as the other fellows tried to decide if he was being serious or not.
"Brilliant," Taub said sarcastically, "We should search her home for FDR's remains or a time machine."
"She could have contracted it from anyone who's been to Africa or..." Brennan started to justify.
"She's been vaccinated," JJ pointed out.
"Vaccines wear off."
"There hasn't been a single American case in over twenty years," 13 said skeptically.
"I've seen this disease," Brennan continued to argue, "I know what it looks like."
"That's why you're finding it," Foreman said, "Because you're looking for it. Polio, it's – it's crazy."
"House wouldn't think so..."
"So go find House and tell him your theory," Foreman snapped, "Take a personal day. Seriously, get out of here."
"You don't have the power to fire me!" Brennan implored.
"But I do have the power to kick your ass off my case." He addressed the others, "We're starting the botulism treatment, look for confirmation."
******
"I can't believe that they would directly disobey my order and treat her for lupus," Foreman vented, "Or that Cameron would tell them to do that."
"Maybe you should ask for Dr. Cameron's version of that story. I'd bet anything that something's been distorted in the telling of that story... Because Amber would never lie..." Emily said sarcastically.
He smiled, but quickly got annoyed again. "And polio? That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. This isn't 1910..."
Emily reached out to take his hand, running her thumb softly across the back of his hand. "Who was it that told me that sometimes you just have to let some things go?"
He sighed, "You're right. C'est la vie..." He smiled and gently leaned down to capture her lips with his.
******
"She's getting worse," the patient's father told Foreman.
Foreman nodded, "Fever's risen slightly." There was a knock on the glass wall, causing Foreman and Hotch, who was assisting him, to look up. Brennan stood on the other side, gesturing for them to come outside. They both ignored him.
The father spoke up again, slightly unsure, "But it's definitely botulism, right?" He started to get angry, "Because if you're wrong again and you're treating her for something she doesn't even have..."
"The antitoxin hasn't had time to work yet," Hotch comforted, understanding the father's pain, "I know it's hard, but try to be patient."
Brennan knocked again, obviously having something urgent to say. "Excuse us," Foreman said to the father.
Once they were outside, Brennan seemed to lose some of his bravado. "I know you're pissed I interrupted, but you're gonna be even more pissed in a second..."
He handed over a sheet of paper which Foreman studied incredulously. "You tested her without telling me?" he asked angrily. Foreman handed the sheet of paper to Hotch who blindly attempted to understand.
"Yeah. And I know, I'm really, really sorry. But... on the other hand, it's positive..." Hotch looked up surprised, Foreman snatched the paper back. "She has polio. Now what, boss?"
******
Foreman sat before the fellows, his head bowed. "I'm sorry," he apologized, "I was stubborn and arrogant."
"Self-recriminations won't help her," Brennan said, a hint of triumph on his voice.
"Nothing's gonna help her," Rossi said, "She's got polio."
"There's no cure, but there are treatments," Amber said.
"She's dying," Foreman sighed, resigned. Emily felt sorry for him, knowing that he would blame himself.
"Yeah, every death's a tragedy," Taub snapped, "Funny how you weren't so depressed when she was just dying because me and Amber screwed up."
"And I'm also self-centered," Foreman said, "Thanks for clarifying."
Kutner couldn't resist adding his two cents, "Don't forget self-pitying."
Emily stood up for him, "Who isn't? He was only doing what he thought was best for the patient and we can hardly say as much, so we're in no place to hand down judgment. Instead of making him feel bad, which he clearly already does, why don't we try coming up with an alternative diagnosis." Foreman smiled his gratitude for her words while Morgan glared daggers at Foreman.
"Vitamin C, extremely high doses," Brennan said suddenly.
"What?"
"It was experimental treatment protocol in the fifties," he elaborated.
"And they haven't finished yet?" Kutner asked jokingly.
"They lost funding," Brennan admitted.
"That's because there's no logical reason vitamin C would cure polio," Foreman scoffed.
"Well, someone thought there was..."
"Someone thought black people made excellent farm implements," Foreman countered.
"I'm not talking about hurting anyone, I just wanna force-feed her some orange juice."
"You wanna throw in some bacon and eggs as well?" he snapped.
Brennan narrowed his eyes, "If there's anything you learn today, it's gotta be that you can be wrong..." Foreman sighed and nodded relentingly.
******
"Polio being cured by vitamin C, really?" Rossi muttered, gesturing with his fork while he ate, "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."
"You know, it's not actually that outrageous. There's a lot of medical evidence to back him up," Reid said.
"Don't tell me you actually believe him?" Rossi asked.
Not directly answering the question, he instead rattled off a list of facts, "In 1949, Dr. Frederick Klenner described his successful treatment of polio using ascorbic acid. He used extremely high doses, up to 300 000 milligrams per day and it is actually much safer than any other conventional treatment since it literally has no side effects. He not only proved it effective against polio, but also with a multitude of other conditions, including chicken pox, measles, mumps, hepatitis, rocky mountain spotted fever, arthritis, and some cancers. He believes that the reason it works is due to the fact that the human enzymes that are responsible for manufacturing vitamin C are massively inefficient and inadequate to meet our requirements, essentially saying that humans have a life-long deficiency of vitamin C and many conditions result from that. It's like being anemic because of an iron deficiency, we need a supplement to maintain good health. In fact, several other physicians agree with him and have dubbed the deficiency 'hypoascorbemia'."
Amber had come up behind them while he spoke, startling them both when she suddenly commented, "That's really interesting, I wasn't aware of any of that. Why don't I join you and you can tell me more about the research."
Rossi stood up as he swallowed his last bite, "Here, why don't you take my seat, I have clinic hours to do." Reid attempted to covertly gesture to Rossi not to leave him alone with her, but he either didn't understand his signals or ignored them.
Amber smiled as she sat down, "So, Dr. Reid, what's your opinion about the use of vitamin C as a treatment?"
******
"What do you see in him anyway?" Morgan finally burst out as he helped Emily change the patient's IV and check her vitals.
"I don't know what you're talking about," she replied frostily.
"Yes, you do," he retorted, "Dr. Self-righteous..."
"Dr. Foreman is an excellent doctor and I was merely consulting him about the patient, something that doctors do," she hissed, "And don't you think it's rather tacky to be having this conversation while we're treating the patient?"
He huffed, but said nothing more until they left the room. When the door slid shut, he picked right up, "I saw you kissing," he accused.
"Fine, we kissed!" she wheeled on him, "What do you care?"
"I don't care!" he snapped, "I want to make sure it won't interfere with the case."
"It won't!" she said, the words catching in her throat.
"What do you see in him?" he repeated.
"He understands what it's like to have everyone blame you, to mistrust you, to talk behind your back because you made a mistake and someone died. He knows what that's like. And since we're on the subject, he cares, you obviously don't! So if you'll excuse me..." She pushed past him, leaving him standing stunned in her wake.
******
The fellows were half asleep in their seats, despite the coffee cups in their hands, when House walked into the room with a ridiculously bright greeting for the early hour.
"Where have you been for the last two days?" Taub asked.
"Overslept," House shrugged.
"We saved Speed Racer," Brennan announced, obviously pleased with himself.
"She had polio, we cured it with vitamin C," Kutner elaborated.
House was obviously skeptical, "Yeah and I cured depression with tonic water once," he scoffed, "Actually, I think there was some gin in it too."
"Hundred and fifty grams over six hours," Taub said, "It worked."
Foreman entered the room, a sheet of test results in his hands, and announced, "No, it didn't." Everyone turned to look at him. "I told you you can't cure polio. That means either she's not cured or she never had it. Since she's walking out of here..." He handed the paper to House and explained, "I tested her blood from admittance, no polio. That means Brennan screwed up the lab tests."
"Or you screwed up your lab tests," Brennan argued.
Amber accused Foreman, "You must have. She got better."
"So it's relapsing and remitting," Foreman suggested, "Maybe porphyria."
House shook his head. "That's a stretch. If she had porphyria you would have seen purple urine."
"You think it's more likely he cured polio?" Hotch asked skeptically.
"They believe it," House gestured towards the other fellows, "Her symptoms fit perfectly and the alternative is unbelievably convoluted. Some doctor would have to poison her with thallium so it looks like polio, then fake a lab test, then give her vitamin C and stop the poison so she magically gets better." He made a face of fake realization. "Actually..." he turned to Brennan, "It is kinda doable, right?" Everyone turned to look at Brennan with shock, he merely stared back at them, nonplussed. "So, what do you think? Should we test her for thallium before you contact Stockholm?"
"You poisoned her?" 13 asked astonished. While everyone else couldn't seem to believe that a fellow doctor would commit such a crime, the team was unsurprised; compared to some of the crimes they had known doctors to commit, this one hardly even registered, not that they were expecting one to happen while they were undercover as doctors.
"The really shocking thing is that Foreman was right about the heatstroke," House remarked.
"Vitamin C cures polio," Brennan said persistently, "I've seen it!"
"Yeah, in some bush clinic. You needed polio in a place with a proper lab; the only problem is that places with proper labs don't have polio," House said.
Brennan stood and advanced on House, "There is no money in finding cures for diseases that only kill poor people. This will make them do research!" Everyone remained too stunned to respond. "And what do you care if I faked a lab test if it saves a few thousand lives? I did what I had to do, isn't that what you hired us for?" He shot House a pleading look.
House nodded and sighed. "Which is why I'm not gonna fire you." The team turned to look at him incredulously, unable to believe that he would continue to let this man work for him even after admitting to poisoning a patient. Brennan gave a sigh of relief. House continued, "You're gonna quit." He merely stood there, giving House an inscrutable look. "Go on, get out of here." Brennan nodded and left; no one missed the glare that he shot about the room. Ordinarily, the team would have arrested him, but seeing as they couldn't do that without blowing their cover, they had no choice but to let him walk away.
"So, you're just gonna let him go?" Foreman asked skeptically.
"Absolutely. I'm gonna let him get as far away as possible before you call the cops. Guy's a nut job." Turning to the fellows, he asked, "Who the hell did I leave in charge?"
"Foreman," Taub said, not hesitating to throw him under the bus, fully expecting some kind of reprimand from House to follow.
"There was a reason for that. Next time, listen to him." Foreman smiled, the pseudo-praise from House unexpected.