Disclaimer - Still not mine.

.::4

The next morning, Shelly got Diedre up, cooked breakfast, sent her daughter off to school and then did something extremely out of character for her. She called out sick. Lydia, the head nurse and scheduler at the Visiting Nurse Association where she worked was very sympathetic - and a little curious - but Shelly just thanked her briskly for her concern, assured her she'd be fine to come in tomorrow, and promptly hung up. Steeling her nerves, she ran upstairs and rifled through her closet and drawers. But what does one wear to such an occasion as this? Shelly thought to herself. Maybe a suit of armor and a flak jacket?

She finally decided on a pair of jeans and a nice button down blouse. Earrings, a touch of makeup, and she was out the door, following the directions James had dictated to her last night which she had written on a little post-it note. Pulling up to the address, Shelly killed the ignition and took a deep breath. The street was quiet and empty, most of its occupants having already left for work that day. Birds carried on gaily outside as the sunshine streamed down through the trees but Shelly could feel her heart start to race and her hands go clammy in her lap. James knocking on her window nearly startled her out of her skin, and she quickly unbuckled her belt and scrambled to join him outside of her car.

"Hey, Shelly. It's good to see you again," Wilson said as she accepted the small hug he offered her. Drawing away he continued, "look, I know this puts you in an awkward place, but I wouldn't have called you if I - " the oncologist's voice cracked and faltered, and Shelly quickly put a hand on his arm.

"No, James. It's alright. Don't worry about asking me. I just think that I...um...I think.." She paused and James looked intently at her face. "Just a moment, I think I'm going to be sick," Shelly managed out before darting to the back of her car. She made it to the curb and wretched up her breakfast into the sewer grate, standing up in time to see a concerned Wilson rushing over to her.

"Shelly! Are you alright? Can I -"

"I'm fine, James. Really," she interrupted, digging a tissue out of her purse to wipe her mouth. "It happens sometimes when I'm nervous. But only once," she amended at the look on his face. "Care for a mint?" she asked as she dug the Altoids out of her purse. He shook his refusal and Shelly closed the tin and returned it to her purse while biting down to banish the acid taste from her mouth. Dusting her hands off, she looked down the sidewalk to see a young couple coming towards them. Hand in hand, the two blondes looked grim and tired, the female still donned in pink hospital scrubs wrinkled from a night's work in the ER. Shelly could sense Wilson tense up again at the sight of them, remembering why they were here and the task ahead of them.

"Allison Cameron and Robert Chase, this is Shelly Jainchill," Wilson made the introductions. Shelly could see the open curiosity in both of their faces, but decided to ignore it.

"Is Cuddy meeting us?" inquired Chase towards Wilson, but the oncologist shook his head.

"She couldn't make it - "

"I'm here!" a female voice broke through Wilson's reply, followed by the fast clip of heels on the sidewalk. "I rescheduled my 9:45," she explained to the three doctors, then turned her attention to Shelly. "Hi, I'm Lisa Cuddy. House's boss. Wilson's told me so much about you."

Shelly accepted her hand but was starting to feel the pressure of all the eyes on her. Lisa especially was looking at her like Shelly possessed the holy grail, and she was starting to wonder just what Wilson had told everyone. As they turned towards the white building in front of them, Shelly offered up a silent prayer to whomever was listening that this all worked itself out okay and followed the doctors inside.

There was no answer and no sign of life in the apartment in response to Wilson's repeated knocking, and for that brief 5 minutes, Shelly thought that was it. She could just go home and go back to bed and will the world back to its rightful axis. But then a grumbling yell could be heard from within, and moments later the door was opened and a sallow face could be seen. Shelly had tried to prepare herself for the change in House's appearance. She visited sick people for a living, and usually could turn a blind eye to many forms of disfigurement and ravaging of appearance. But this version of her former friend had her heart lurch to her throat. Even when she had seen him after his infarction he hadn't looked as pathetic and wasted as he did now. He was gaunt and thin, with a slightly jaundiced tinge to his eyes, and a stoop to his posture as he folded over his swollen stomach. Shelly was grateful that he didn't see her right away and had a moment to compose herself.

Scanning the assembled co-workers House finally croaked out, "What the hell is this? An intervention? Nice job with the patient confidentiality," he threw bitterly in Chase's direction. "I really appreciate it." He turned away, intending to shut the door, but in his weakened condition Wilson easily overpowered him and pushed his way inside. It was then that House noticed Shelly, and she saw a spark of curiosity pass through his cerulean depths before he pasted back on his sneer. "And what do we have here? Been trolling my love life to try and get me to repent for the sake of my loved ones?" he questioned Wilson. But Shelly could feel his eyes appraising her and the warmth of his stare gave her a much needed boost in confidence.

"Well, I would say its a pleasure to see you again too, but given your condition I'd be lying," Shelly tossed out as she slipped into the apartment and shut the door. Her witty reply seemed to throw House for a moment, and Shelly thought she saw the ghost of a smirk cross his face before he turned away towards the rest of his visitors.

"Nice to see that you've grasped the seriousness of this situation, House," Cameron began accusingly.

"I'm going to die. Big deal. We all are eventually," House pulled off the carefree attitude perfectly, but Shelly could see his fear in the way he gripped his cane for a second before starting to play with it. His eyes and his hands never lied to her. She moved into the room and settled onto his piano bench while House also moved to flop into his easy chair. The others settled on the couch, except for Wilson, who stood ready to break out pacing any moment. She was stroking her fingers silently over the keys of his piano before she became aware of all the eyes that were upon her. The only gaze she held was House's, until he finally broke the silence and addressed her.

"Learn anything good since the last time I saw you?" he asked quietly. Shelly gave him a small grin and started to drum out the faint chords of the death knell from Chopin's Funeral March. She could tell House enjoyed the joke, but looked over to find Cameron looking outright disgusted at her selection. Shelly dropped her hands from the piano and turned towards Wilson.

"Alright, James. I think its time to get this over with," she said soberly.

"Oooh, yes James! Please! Do tell!" House added with a mock enthusiasm. "I just can't wait for what type of torture you have in store for me now!"

Chase just glared at his former boss and before Wilson could begin he stated, "Detox first, obviously. We need to get you off the poison you're killing your liver with."

"Right, and I'll be all squeaky clean and reformed to expire repented and free from everlasting sin. That sounds like a great way to go," House grumbled bitterly. "Spare me the Catholic teachings and just let me die."

"No, House. Chase is right," Wilson said quietly. "We need to get you clean, and then you have a transplant. But you have to stay clean and look for other ways to get your pain management under control."

House looked at his friend incredulously. "Ho-ho. A liver transplant? Why don't you just fly to the moon, Jimmy-boy? That fantasy-land you're living in sounds really great to me." He shifted his gaze to Cuddy. "There is NO WAY you're bargaining a liver out of the Share Network without doing something to lose your license. I'm not doing it."

"We weren't thinking of doing a liver transplant. Not yet anyway," Lisa responded, sitting up straighter to meet his defiance. "There have been studies shown that patients injected with stem cell therapy treatments into the hepatic artery show a recovered liver function within two to three months. We just have to get you off the Vicodin and then - "

"And where are you suggesting we run away to for stem cell therapy? As far as I recall, you need to be enlisted in a clinical trial, and there ceases to be a study in liver recovery for drug addicts."

"You don't need to be in a trial if the stem cells come from a direct consenting source as a straight donation," Wilson piped up reluctantly.

"Right. My fairy godmother is going to grant me a perfect match that will be ready and willing to just give up some bone marrow for me. I'll bet you've all already been tested to help me too. So who is it? Who's the lucky dog that gets to give me the new leash on life?" House's gaze swept the group, but slowly he noticed both Lisa and James steal a glance in Shelly's direction. His lethal blue sights set on her, as he grinned bitterly. "It's not you Shell, we're not even the same blood type. I know you can't give me a donation."

Meeting his gaze, Shelly steeled herself until she felt a numbing peace wash over her. "You're right, Greg. I can't. But you might be a match with your daughter."

-tbc