2007
House went straight to his apartment and got undressed. He pulled on running shorts and an old navy blue t-shirt. Then he went out to the living room, unplugged the phone, grabbed a bottle of Maker's Mark off his desk and sat down on the couch. He picked up the remote, turned the television on and opened the bottle of scotch. A glass sat on the coffee table. He leaned forward and poured about five fingers worth of the amber liquid into it. Lifting the glass, he drained it. He grimaced as the alcohol burned its way down his throat. Then he sighed as the fire dulled to a soothing warmth. He leaned back, put his feet up on the coffee table and focused on the television. He spent the rest of the day drinking, watching television and ordering take out. By midnight, he was snoring as the television droned loudly. He jerked awake when someone touched his shoulder. He turned his head, rubbed his eyes and looked at Cameron. She sat beside him on the couch.
"You aren't answering your phone," she said with concern. Reaching out, she smoothed back his hair. "What's going on?"
"I was right and Reilly nearly lost her job proving it." He shook his head. "It's what she's always done."
Cameron sighed.
"I know," she told him. "I found her and we talked. She hates seeing you conform. She said you never conformed and that's what she admires most about you. You're rude and abrasive but you do what you do because it's the right thing to do. You save more patients by doing those risky, insane things. Something in Reilly snapped when you were shot. I got her to agree to see a psychiatrist. Between her divorce and nearly losing you, she's been pushed over the edge."
House looked at her then looked away. "She was always the strong one. The one who took care of me; watched out for me; protected me. When she came back after Smug cheated on her and they got divorced, I wasn't there for her. I've always expected her to be strong. I've been so wrapped up in my own misery and then finally being pain free that I didn't hold up my part in things. I'm an ass."
"Yeah, you are," she agreed.
He looked at her in disbelief. "You're not supposed to agree with me," he complained.
She smiled. "Hard to disagree with the truth."
"Why are you here?" he asked in mock annoyance.
"We have a patient, Kyle Wasniak. He's been having seizures all day and now his liver is failing. He's an alcoholic but it isn't the alcohol that's causing it to fail. We don't know what's wrong with him. Amber did a search for any relatives and his father, Gabe, is at the hospital already. He's in a persistent vegetative state."
House pushed himself up from the couch and went into his bedroom. Cameron followed him and leaned against the door frame. He stripped off his shorts and t-shirt. Grabbing a t-shirt, blazer and jeans, he dressed quickly.
"Grab me a pair of socks," he told Cameron.
She went to the dresser, opened a drawer and pulled out a pair of soft, gray socks. She handed them to him and he sat on the bed to pull them on. She grabbed a pair of his Nike Shox and handed those to him. Once he was dressed, he pushed her toward the door..
"Let's go," he told her.
When they arrived at the Diagnostics office, everyone, including Wilson was sitting around the table. Symptoms were written on the whiteboard and everyone except Wilson was reading patient files. Reilly sat at the opposite end of the table from Wilson.
House looked at Volakis. "Tell me about Vegetative State Guy."
She told him everything she knew. When she finished he nodded.
"Get an EEG," he told Kutner.
Kutner stood and then looked at House in confusion. "Where is he?"
"I'll take you," Volakis told him.
When they left, House looked at Wilson. "Are you here as Cuddy's spy?"
Wilson shook his head. He looked at Reilly. Then he looked back at House. "I'm sorry for manipulating you. I never should have done it. But I was trying to help." He sighed. "I never thought how all that would affect Reilly. You just do so many insane things. I didn't want you to implode yourself or your career."
"Yes," House told him. "I'm sure you thought your motives were pure and noble. But, since you helped break Reilly, you get to take her place on the team until we solve this case."
"I do have my own patients, you know," Wilson reminded him.
"I also you know you have a bigger staff than I do so pawn them off on one of your lackeys until the kid is cured or dies."
"Fine," Wilson sighed in defeat.
"Um, I am in the room," Reilly stated. "I'm working this case." Her beeper went off and she pulled it out. Looking at it, she shook her head. "Kyle's in a coma," she told them.
House nodded and left. Wilson followed him down to the pharmacy. He stood behind House as he rummaged through the bins of drugs. Finally, he pulled out a vial.
"What are you going to do with the L-dopa?" Wilson asked.
"I need answers," House told him.
"Oh, shit," Wilson sighed. "You're going to try to wake the dad."
House hopped over the counter and headed for the basement. Wilson ran to keep up with him.
"You don't even know if that will bring the father out of his coma," he told House.
"Not a coma. He's in a vegetative state, remember?" House replied as he bounded down the stairs to the basement.
"I'm calling Cuddy," Wilson told him as he pulled out his cell phone.
"Great," House told him as he pushed open the door to the coma ward. "The more the merrier."
When Cuddy arrived, House stood next to Gabe's bed watching him closely. Cameron, Wilson, Volakis, Kutner and Reilly stood against the wall across from Gabe's bed. She turned to look at them.
"None of you thought to stop him?" Cuddy asked in exasperation.
"We weren't here," Volakis told her. She looked at Wilson. "Well, he was."
"After I called you, he'd already injected the patient," Wilson told her.
"House!" she said sharply as she walked over to him. "House! Look at me!"
Slowly he turned to look at her. "Yes?"
"We do not experiment on helpless patients," she told him.
"Oh, what's it's going to hurt? He hasn't even responded yet. The worst that could happen is I could get sued. I get sued all the time."
"You'll be torturing him and his family, House!" she told him sternly. "Even if it works he might be awake for two days at the most."
"Well, that's two more days than he would have otherwise," House responded turning his attention back to Gabe.
"I want this patient monitored-" Cuddy began.
"God, I'm starving," Gabe said rising up on his elbows. "Any way I could get a steak?"
"Do you know your name?" Reilly asked stepping forward until she stood at the end of the bed.
"Gabriel Wasniack," he replied. ""Do I know you?"
"Do you know where you are?" House asked.
"A hospital. I'm not sure which one."
"Do you know what five and seven are?" he asked.
"Twelve. Which is also half of twenty-four-"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," House interrupted. "Any family history of seizures?"
Gabe shook his head. "No."
"Liver disease?"
"No. Look, how long have I been here? I feel like it's been a long time." Gabe looked at Reilly.
"Ten years," she responded. "What do you remember?"
"I remember the house fire," he began slowly. "I got my son out and went back in for my wife. She'd taken a sleeping pill." He stopped and frowned. "She's dead, isn't she?"
Reilly looked at him with compassion. "Yes," she told him. "But, your son is upstairs in a coma. We don't know what's wrong with him."
"How about that steak?" Gabe asked looking over at House and ignoring her.
Wilson pulled his car up to the sidewalk outside the hospital. House came out wearing his dark wool coat with the mismatched buttons and a grey driving cap. Gabe walked beside him wearing a dark suit, white shirt and black dress shoes. Wilson got out of the car. "This is a very bad idea," he told them as they approached the car.
"I'll drive," Gabe told him snatching the keys from Wilson's hand.
"We have to go to Atlantic City and get him a hoagie. It's the only way he'd agree to answer my questions," House said as he opened the passenger door and slid in.
Wilson opened the back door and slipped into the back seat.
Gabe picked up Wilson's iPod and looked at them. "What's an ip od?" he asked.
"Just drive," House told him.
Gabe started the engine and put the car in gear.
"This is a very bad idea, House," Wilson said again from the back seat. "He's been in a vegetative state for ten years."
"Yes, but he's filled to the brim with L-dopa. He's got the reflexes of a ninja right now." He turned to Gabe. "So, let's talk about toxic exposure."
"No. I get to ask a question first," Gabe told him.
House sighed loudly. Wilson leaned forward.
"What's going on?" he asked House. "How come he gets to ask you a question?"
"It's part of our deal," Gabe told him. "I get to ask him one question for every question he asks me."
Wilson's eyebrows arched upward in surprise. "And you agreed to this?"
"It was the only way to get him to talk," House replied in a bored tone. "That and a sandwich. Apparently the steak from the cafeteria wasn't up to his exacting standards."
"What is up with you two?" Gabe asked.
"He's a manipulative bitch who tries to change me which resulted in Reilly trying to clock him. Good times. Now-"
"Why do you care about House?" Wilson asked from the back seat cutting House off.
"No!" House groaned. "Do not side track him with your Jedi mind tricks!"
"Before the fire," Gabe answered. "I owned a boat factory. I was a powerful man. Now the only power I have is the power to annoy him."
Wilson nodded and smiled. "I like him," he told House.
They drove through the dark streets outside Atlantic City.
"I know it's here somewhere," Gabe muttered as he leaned over the steering wheel looking at street signs.
House's cell phone rang. He flipped it open and hit the speakerphone button. "House's House of Whining," he said. "State your complaint."
"Kyle's liver isn't the problem," Reilly said. "It's his heart. We did an Echo. He needs a new heart."
Silence descended on the car.
"You still there?" Reilly asked. Gabe reached out and flipped the phone closed.
"Let's go to one of the hotel casinos," he said.
House's phone rang again and he flipped it open. Again, he tapped the button to put it on speakerphone.
"What did your son do that was so horrible that you have to run away from him?" Reilly demanded.
Gabe stared straight ahead and continued to drive.
"Gabe!" she called out.
"I'll call you back," House told her and snapped the phone shut. "Fine, we'll go to a hotel casino but when we get there you tell me how each member of Kyle's family died. Then you can ask me anything. I don't care how personal or soul destroying it is, I'll answer it."
"Deal," Gabe told him.
"And you tell Reilly why you're running away from your dying son," Wilson added. "You owe her that much."
Gabe's mouth tightened but he nodded.
When they arrived at the hotel and checked into a suite, Wilson called room service to order a sandwich for Gabe and House began asking questions. Gabe answered them all. Finally, he sat back.
"Hey, Wilson," he said. "Toss me a beer."
Wilson picked up a can of beer and threw it underhanded to Gabe. Gabe held up his hand but the can bounced off his palm.
House looked at him speculatively. "The drug's wearing off. So, ask your question."
"Are you in love with Reilly?" Gabe asked. "Your voice changes when you talk to her. So does your face. You're probably not even aware of it."
House smiled. "No," he told him. "That was your big question?"
"You do love her," Gabe stated. "Which means you are capable of love. Capable of compassion. Yet you act like you don't care. Interesting."
House looked down. "I love her but she's….I don't want to ruin what we have," he finally said. "I need her. I need her in my life." He looked up at Gabe. "What happened the night of the fire?"
Gabe rolled his eyes and shook his head.
"Yeah, yeah, it's an emotional, stressful question," House told him. "Man up and answer it."
"On Christmas Eve, my wife took a sleeping pill and went to bed. Kyle decided to make popcorn in the fireplace. He managed to knock loose some tinder. The wrapping paper caught on fire. It spread so fast. I got Kyle out. When I went back in for…"
"You're blaming a twelve year old for an accident?" Wilson asked in shock.
"NO!" Gabe shouted. "I know it was an accident."
"Then what the hell are we doing here?" Wilson shot back.
"Because it wouldn't matter!" he shouted as he got up and began to pace. "I failed to keep my family safe! I couldn't stop the fire! I couldn't save my wife! Now you want me to stick around watching while I fail to save my son?!" He glared at House. "Thank you so much for waking me up!"
"How did he dislodge the tinder?" House asked calmly.
Gabe laughed in disbelief and sat down. "The popcorn basket was too heavy for him and he dropped it. He told me it was too heavy but I didn't listen."
"And the other deaths in the family that weren't from natural causes, were they at night, too?" he asked.
Gabe nodded.
"Ragged Red Fiber. It's an inherited condition," House told him. "Dropping things, muscle weakness, poor night-vision. These people seem uncoordinated and accident-prone. Careless. It's transmitted in mitochondrial DNA, so it only passes through the mother. Your wife's family weren't drunks, they were sick."
"But Ragged Red Fiber wouldn't affect his liver," Wilson told him.
House shrugged. "The kid thought he killed his mom and turned his dad into a vegetable. That would drive pretty much anyone to drink." He picked up his phone and called Reilly. He filled her in and told her to test for Ragged Red Fiber. She called back thirty minutes later and told him he was right.
"It doesn't matter, though," she told him. "Kyle needs a heart transplant. He's an alcoholic, though. No way he gets one."
"I want to give him my heart," Gabe announced.
"They kinda frown on live people donating their hearts," House told him. "Of course, you'll go back to being a vegetable…"
"House!" Wilson said in shock.
"Go downstairs and set up an alibi for you and House," Gabe told him. "Look, my life is over. You said that ragged thing is passed on from the mother. My heart is fine and I want him to have it. Even if they found a cure for me, what would it matter if I don't have my son? Besides, he hasn't really had me for ten years now. I've been as good as dead. I want to help him."
Wilson sighed and left.
House was sitting in the hallway when he returned.
"Is he…?" Wilson asked softly.
House nodded.
House and Reilly stood in the operating room observation deck. Below them , the transplant team was transferring Gabe's heart into Kyle. The door opened and Cuddy walked in.
"Got the tox screen back on the dad," she commented. "Turns out he had massive amounts of aspirin in his system. Basically a whole bottle. It's a good thing since it protected the heart."
"I guess he had a really bad headache," House told her.
"And you and Wilson were downstairs in the casino when he committed suicide?"
"Yep. Gabe wanted some time alone after Reilly told him about his son."
Cuddy sighed and left.
"She knows," Reilly told House.
"So? He left a suicide note. Her precious hospital and my ass are both covered."
"We'll not speak of it again."
They turned their attention back to the surgery going on below them.