A/N: Sorry such a short update. Rough weekend, and much of my writing energy during it wound up unexpectedly going in a different direction. All the major balls are in the air now for this story, so enjoy the ride. Thanks for reading and reviewing.

(H/C)

House wrote the name across the top of the whiteboard: Kutner. No nickname or snark for this patient. Kutner. He had wanted a case but not this one. Forcing the tension back down and focusing, he turned to face the conference table. Three untried quantities here, then the two knowns, Taub, who looked shaken himself behind his usual calm front, and Foreman.

Kutner had just been admitted. He was still unconscious with a high fever, and so far, that was all they knew. House had ordered cultures of everything, and as soon as those had been drawn, he had started Kutner on heavy-duty antibiotics immediately. Supportive care of antipyretics and a cooling blanket had been initiated. IV fluids, too; it didn't take waiting for the lab results to diagnose that Kutner was badly dehydrated. A chest x-ray was also pending. With all of that testing in process, the combined new and old team had been ordered to the conference room for their first real differential.

"How long?" House demanded. "Has anybody here talked to him within the last week?"

Taub and then Foreman shook their heads. House cursed himself mentally for trying to follow Cuddy's suggestion, respect his fellow's week of vacation, and leave him alone. Should have sent him a few needling texts or something at least. Kutner probably wouldn't have minded.

"Hopefully the antibiotics will kick in quickly," Hollingwood offered. "There are several simple and treatable explanations for a fever."

"We don't run this department on hopefully," House snapped. "We're already starting out behind, and we haven't got any more time to waste, so we're assuming it's atypical while the basic labs are done. If we're wrong, so much the better. Kutner told me he was going to a Star Trek convention last week for a few days and spending the rest of the week just around home. Does anybody know where there was one?"

Foreman shook his head silently. "He told me the same thing," Taub said. "I didn't ask him where, though."

"There might have been one in New York," Ramirez said thoughtfully. "I don't follow it that closely, but I have a friend who does, and I think she mentioned one this month."

"Then call your friend and ask and stop wasting time talking about it," House suggested frostily. Ramirez pulled out her cell phone and dialed quickly.

Templeton was trying to start his own differential. "You could pick up anything at a conference. All the people, all the backgrounds. You're thinking community acquired?"

"I'm thinking everything at this stage. We haven't got time to take turns on the causes."

Cuddy opened the conference room door. "I just heard from the ER," she said. "How is he?"

"Not good, and that is all we know yet," House said shortly. He appreciated the show of moral support, as well as her own concern, but he didn't have time to take out to talk to her.

She looked at him steadily for a moment, and to his relief, she understood his tone. She probably even read the worry he was trying to conceal, but he didn't mind her seeing it as much as he did the team. "You'll find the answer," she said with rock-solid confidence. "Keep me updated when you can." She closed the door.

Ramirez put away her cell phone. "Big convention in NYC last week, Wednesday through Saturday. Shatner was coming."

"Kutner definitely wouldn't have missed that," Taub stated.

House was looking at Ramirez' phone, his attention caught. "Did anybody see Kutner's cell phone?"

"It was charging on a table," Templeton replied.

"And you just left it there?" House could have kicked himself - if he weren't a cripple and unable to do that - for not seeing it himself. He had been fully occupied with his fellow, with the physical status during the eternal wait for the ambulance. But he still should have noticed, should have thought of the phone.

"I didn't think . . ." Templeton started.

"Exactly," House cut him off. "Learn to if you want to get anywhere. That's probably one of the best clues we've got for timetable." He looked back at the whiteboard again, bare so far except for the name, Kutner, in black. He suddenly wished he had used blue or green or some other color, something more alive.

Facing the team again, he handed out assignments briskly. "Foreman and Templeton. You two go back to that apartment and search it as thoroughly as you can. Anything that might be relevant even on a stretch, find it. Hollingwood, go with them and get the cell phone. Then look at his calls. Let me know ASAP the time of the last outgoing call or text and of the first missed one. Then talk to anybody he has in the last week. When did he see them, how was he feeling, how are they feeling? And get the numbers for his parents and contact them to let them know what's going on. Find out the last time they talked to him, too. Taub, Ramirez, with me." He took a few limping steps, only to be halted by Templeton's voice.

"Why is she the one who gets to stay with you and the patient?"

House's glare would have frozen Hawaii. "Because I said so. Any more questions to waste time with?"

Templeton came to his feet so quickly he almost tripped over the chair leg. "No," he mumbled as he beat everybody else to the door. The group left the room, heading for their assorted tasks.