Chapter 32

Fugitive

Foreman and Wilson met the plane and watched as House was unloaded and placed into the ambulance. Wilson drove back to the hospital alone while Foreman rode with House. Foreman was anxious to examine him and grill him about his experience.

"How do you feel?" Foreman asked.

"Sorry, Dude," House said noting the female paramedic nearby, "I didn't go through with it. The doc said my penis was already too big for the implant. But you know, I stayed anyway, it was a plastic surgery farm and all the breast augmentation patients wanted me to test drive them."

Foreman waited with an raised eyebrow, he knew that once House was done with his retorts he would answer the question.

"I'm in less pain than when I left and the leg feels stronger. But I do need to get up and walk to get the circulation going," House admitted.

"You know you're a walking miracle. You're going to be studied for the next several years. I just want to know why…" Foreman's voice trailed off.

"Why what?"

"Why did you let her do it? She risked everything. If she had waited another seven or ten years she could have done it without repercussions."

"I just figured, what is her career compared to me having a few years of painfree walking?" House shook his head and caught his breath, realizing he was going to have to answer this question until he was blue in his face. "It's not like I put a knife up to her throat. Christ, Foreman, she had me sign phony protocol releases. I thought I was part of an experimental protocol."

Foreman shrugged, accepting his explanation. "I wish she hadn't done it, I wanted to work with her."

"I wanted ...ah hell, it doesn't matter anymore what I wanted. It is what it is."

Foreman nodded and began to review the documents that Kenna had sent with House. When they arrived at the hospital the press was waiting outside. Cuddy told the ambulance driver to pull around to the back entrance. They brought him in through emergency and up to the third floor. A PET scan and an MRI were scheduled for the next morning. Cuddy and Wilson went up to visit him that night, walking in while Foreman was still examining him, marveling at the improvement and the color in his leg.

"You know House, she's brilliant. This is incredible work." Foreman said with awe in his voice.

Cuddy told him, "Foreman, Wilson and I watched the tape of your surgery. The artificial nerve and ligaments are incredible. The FDA doesn't have the tape yet. It was subpoenaed, so we're making a copy of it. She has three felony charges on the books right now; if she comes back she's looking at 15 years and the permanent loss of her license to practice. They told us though that they'll make her a deal if she comes back in the next thirty days-6 years prison time and out in four for time served. They'd let her serve it in a minimum security facility and she'd be able to apply for her medical license after eight years."

The monitors went nuts, House's pulse raced; his blood pressure went through the roof. Cuddy looked at Foreman for answers. House gave the monitors an annoying look, but they told the truth. Hearing that she really would get prison and lose her license because of him just made her sacrifice even more real. The truth hurt him, his stomach tightened and he had trouble breathing. She would never come home to be with him.

Foreman ran to the medicine cart, "House, House...you have to calm down. Calm down. I'm going to give you some Ativan."

"No, no drugs...I'll be ok." House looked at the ceiling, saying nothing.

Lisa put her hand on House's arm. "I'm sorry House, I shouldn't have said anything. We're hoping your operation works. So much is at stake. If it works, they may give her a break. I know you didn't know what she was doing, we all know that now."

Over the next few weeks House felt like a freak. The FBI and the Assistant Attorney General came in and spent six hours trying to get him to say something incriminating about Kenna. The only thing he admitted was that he had signed the phony release. The AMA did the same thing, but House refused to give them any further information.

Foreman had House walking every day. On the last day before House was to be sent home, Foreman personally walked House into the neurology department, taking him into his office and sitting him down in the chair. He turned on the computer. Within a few minutes there she was, her perfect face lighting up the screen.

"Hello Mr. Rogers! How's the hood? How are you doing?" Kenna was all smiles.

House turned around and looked at Foreman and frowned, lifting a puzzled eyebrow. Foreman laughed, "Ok, I'm leaving. Just press this when you're done." He stepped out and closed the door.

Turning back to the screen, House said, "I'm doing well. But it's been a three ring circus. They don't know whether to make me a scapegoat for the ethical violations or the trained monkey...showing off my leg." He looked away for a second, trying to figure out what he should say. "I don't have to take Vicodin anymore. It still hurts but it's nothing compared to what it was. The muscle is growing and the artificial nerves are conducting impulses to the brain."

She knew all of this because Foreman was sending all of the data to her. The results were exceeding their expectations. He looked healthier than he had in years. "I'm so sorry about the publicity. I've had a lot of visitors too. Everyone wants me to come and work for them or finance my work down here. So you see, I'll be ok."

"Yeah, but you won't be here."

"Greg, find someone else, I'm not going to take the deal they offered. Why should I?"

"You think it's just that easy? You think that I can just turn what I feel off? "Once again he looked away from the computer screen while he thought. "Everyone assumes that I knew what you were doing, that I knew you were throwing away your career, your home. All your friends blame me."

"I talk to Foreman and Cuddy all the time and they both know that you thought I had FDA approval. I even explained to Wilson. He understands now why I had to walk out on him. He doesn't understand why I treated you without going through the proper channels, but he doesn't blame you. I keep telling him, Foreman and Cuddy that I couldn't let you go any longer with that kind of pain. Wilson wants to come down and see me. Please convince him not to. I don't want him caught up in the broohaha."

House looked at her and shook his head, "Now what? It seems I've substituted one pain for another."

"You move on, you have your life back, please do something with it. Stop being just a bitter misanthrope...I did this so you could enjoy living again. Please don't make my sacrifice worthless by being bitter or angry or depressed."

"Oh for God's sake, don't be so self-sacrificing. Aren't you angry?"

"No, I feel great about what I did. I just want you to feel great too. All of this will mean something if you feel great too. House, this hullabaloo will all die down and you'll be able to live life normally, just give it time."

He didn't want to live life normally; he wanted to live it with her.