A/N: Sorry for the delay. Updating was preempted by several things, the latest in line being a broken tooth and an extended dental appointment yesterday. Here's an update, and possibly more will come Wednesday night, because I'm expecting music on Wednesday, like music tonight, to be cancelled due to the snow. No promises, but I think it's a good bet. I'm more than ready for spring.

Speaking of which, it's May in my fic universe, even though House and company aren't enjoying it much at the moment. But you can at least imagine it being spring while reading.

Things will be cliffhangery with the case for quite a few chapters. :) No quick solutions here. Enjoy.

(H/C)

Ramirez watched House's stride as he got off the elevator and started for the ICU. He was totally different now. The limp was still there - in fact, it was even a little more pronounced, because he was pushing it more than his leg wanted to reach at each step. But the bigger change was in the drilling focus of his eyes and the set of his shoulders. She wasn't usually prone to metaphors from fantasy, as reality had smacked her in the face too sharply and too often for her to enjoy it for the past several years. Still, she couldn't help being reminded of a few scenes from books of her childhood of the knight putting on his armor, heading out to battle in the sort of deluded, unrealistic stories where the ultimate fate of the dragon was never in doubt.

Of course, she wasn't about to call House a knight. She'd already seen enough of him to predict his reaction. But it was odd and even a little annoying that that image was the first to pop into her mind, as uncharacteristic for her as it was applied to him. Childhood was over, dead and buried, and she didn't usually have to remind it of that.

She shook the thought off impatiently and got down mentally to the medicine. This was it, finally on a true case instead of playing Operation. Here was her chance to see House in action and to prove to him that she was the best candidate for that fellowship. Certainly, she deserved it over the other two. Templeton was a devious snake, not unintelligent but preferring maneuvering to hard work, and as for Hollingwood, Ramirez had no idea how she'd even survived medical school. Now she probably read fantasy.

Not Ramirez. She studied, and even non medical reading for brief recreational breaks was still done with the only worthwhile goal, that of improving herself.

She followed House into the ICU.

(H/C)

The eternal journey from Diagnostics finally ended, and House stopped by the bed, looking at his youngest fellow, though Kutner would be moving up in seniority once House hired one - or two, if applicable - of the egglings. Kutner looked even younger now sick than he actually was, and House pushed down the fear and, even deeper, the hidden affection. Focus, damn it.

He turned to Taub. "See if the first labs are back yet."

Taub departed, and House turned to Ramirez. The burning intensity in him rocked her for a moment, even though she'd thought she'd prepared herself to face it. "You're the outsider," he said quickly, almost harshly. "It's . . . possible that you might see things we don't. So whatever you're thinking, speak up." He turned away before she even had a chance to frame a reply.

House looked at the vital signs again - temp quite high, BP on the low side, pulse and breathing both a little fast. Kutner's eyes were still closed. House bent to inspect the urine bag. Nothing. "He's been on IVs for an hour now."

Ramirez looked at her watch in silent confirmation. "If he'd been lying there for a day or two without drinking anything, he's probably got an AKI, even if he isn't in true failure yet."

House smacked his non cane hand against the bed railing. "Damn it, Kutner, you are not this stupid. Why the hell didn't you realize you were sick and call for help?" And why hadn't House popped in to check on his vacation? He'd done it before with others. "Where's Taub with those labs?"

Taub re-entered the ICU room with a more than usually solemn face, bearing the initial paperwork, and House snatched it from him. He looked at it so quickly that Ramirez thought he couldn't possibly have read all the results, but then he shoved it at her. "Right on the edge of kidney failure. If he doesn't start making good urine in the next hour, we'll have to get access inserted and get Dialysis on board for a session or two to jump start him."

Taub looked at his colleague. "I actually thought of calling him this weekend," he said. Some stupid bad joke he'd heard in a crowd that he thought Kutner would appreciate, but then he had thought he could just tell him Monday.

"But you didn't," House snapped. "Enough on what we didn't do. What matters is what we need to do. Beyond supportive care, waiting for cultures, and searching the apartment, what could be done here?" He turned back to Kutner and whipped the sheet off, starting a full head-to-toe inspection. "We could have missed a small cut or sting or puncture or something if it was tiny enough. Move!"

Taub and Ramirez moved over quickly, taking their own portions of anatomy, and the room was silent briefly. "No wounds I can find," Taub concluded.

Puncture. Ramirez straightened up. "We could do an LP. Rule out meningitis. That would fit symptoms, and the kidney injury could be just because he's had it a few days and was just in bed and not drinking fluids."

House looked at her, then nodded. "Yes." He started to roll Kutner to his side, and Taub moved over a little too quickly to help. House glared at him. "Go get a kit."

Taub disappeared again, and House looked at Kutner. Having gotten his fellow up into lateral decubitus, he covered most of his body with the sheet again while waiting. "Did your Star Trek friend happen to mention anybody getting sick who was at that convention? Is she sick, assuming she went?"

"She sounded fine, and yes, she went. Didn't mention anyone else. I didn't ask that specifically, but I'm sure they've all been talking about the convention, wrapping it up. Forums and such." Ramirez never wasted time on forums herself, and a trace of it showed in her tone.

House studied her. "Usually a waste of time, yes, but they can be useful once in a while." His blue eyes hardened into a stare, the intensity flaring out even more. "But only useful if you ask the right questions. What if several people were sick, but they all only thought they had a bug or something, like Kutner must have, and didn't fit it into the bigger picture. They'd be talking about meeting Captain Kirk, not about having a virus today. Call your friend back and ask her to post a question on a few big Star Trek forums. Ask if anybody else came back from that convention with a bug. No patient details, of course, and leave the symptoms wide open. Let's see what falls out."

"Good idea," Ramirez said, impressed.

House rolled his eyes. "I know it's a good idea, which is why I said to do it." She quickly pulled out her cell phone and dialed.

By the time she hung up, Taub had returned with an LP kit. "She doesn't know of anybody sick, but she'll post the question on some of the forums," Ramirez reported.

House was already focused on the procedure. He did it himself, hanging his cane on the rails and leaning against the bed for support. Ramirez watched him work, fascinated. His hands were swift and steady, no wasted motion, and he nailed the spot on his first attempt. He collected the CSF, then passed the sample off to Taub, and after Taub took it, House reached for his cane again. The faintest quiver ran through his bad leg, the released strain of the last few minutes of that balance against the bed. Ramirez didn't think he had even felt it during the LP.

Kutner groaned softly as House put a Band-Aid over the site. "Kutner?" House quickly went around to the other side of the bed to face him, jerking his head at Ramirez. "Get over there and help hold him still if we need to." She took House's former position at Kutner's back, and House touched his fellow on the forehead. "Kutner? Can you hear me?"

Kutner groaned again and tried to roll. Ramirez held him still, and House gripped his shoulder. "Kutner, stay still. You just had an LP. Don't try to move."

Kutner opened his eyes. They were glazed and unfocused, and he stared at House. "Kutner!" House leaned over him. "When did you start feeling sick?"

"Captain." Kutner's voice was so weak that they both had to lean closer to hear him.

"It's House, damn it. You're in the hospital. How long, Kutner? What were your first symptoms?"

Kutner was looked straight at him, though Ramirez was bending clear over him in the bed by now and should also have been in his field of vision. "Captain," he repeated. "I . . . did it."

"What did you do?" House demanded. Kutner's eyes started to drift off, losing even what little focus they had had, and House gave his shoulder a shake. "Kutner! This is your captain. Give me your report, damn it. I'm waiting."

Kutner looked back at him. "Hard mission. Knew that, but had to go."

"Go where? What did you do there?" House leaned over nearly nose to nose with him. "Report on your mission, right now."

Kutner was silent for a moment, but his lips were twitching as if trying to put it into words. When he finally spoke, it was even more softly than before. ". . . dead, Jim."

His eyes fell shut, and not even House's commanding howl of protest could open them again.

(H/C)

AKI: Acute kidney injury.