Chapter 53 — Existing in a Crisis

A/N: Thanks for the Corvette name suggestions, guys! I've settled on one at long last, but I appreciate all the offered up names. :)

"Anya."

"Hmm."

"Your leg."

"What about it?"

"It's been shaking for forty-five minutes straight."

"Ah. So it has."

Zach looked away from Mindhunters, in all its Imax glory, to stare at me. "You've been tense since you picked me up. Just tell me what's going on."

"Don't you want to watch the movie?"

"You're not watching it. You look like you're gonna have a fuckin' panic attack. So how about we go outside, and get you some air, and you tell me what you're freaking out over." He was already rising from his seat, large popcorn clutched underneath his one arm. He offered me his free hand, and I stared at it blankly.

"I don't know if this is the kind of thing that you can help me with, Zach."

"Try me."

I couldn't really drum up a response, so I sighed and grabbed his hand, which completely dwarfed my own.

We walked out of the theatre, past the ticket-taker, through the arcade, and out into the side parking lot. Zach leaned against the wall, releasing my hand. He set the popcorn on the ground, then proceeded to light up a cigarette. I sank down to my ass next to him, wrapping my arms around myself. Zach took a few puffs of his cigarette before saying, "Alright, hit me with it."

"Zach..."

"How bad can it be?" He tapped the still-healing wound that slashed directly underneath his hairline. "Seriously, after this, nothing's gonna faze me."

Okay. I'm from an alternate universe, sent by God to save House from himself. You'd be surprised how fazing I can be. I brushed fingers over my own stitches, sighing. I couldn't tell Zach the extent of all my troubles. That, as always, would have to be saved for House and Wilson. And by House and Wilson, I meant Wilson. However, it would feel nice to get the meat of the Vogler problem off my chest, and maybe Zach would even have some insight into what I should do.

"You know I got into Princeton," I said slowly, trying to ignore the cigarette smoke clouding around us. I fumbled a hand into the popcorn bucket and shoved a handful into my mouth.

"You may've mentioned it a couple thousand times."

"Okay, so...I may not have gotten in like, one hundred percent off my own merit."

Zach took a contemplative drag of his cigarette. "Don't do the dramatic pause thing, just tell me."

"House faked some stuff to get me in. Extracurricular things that I didn't actually do. Letters of recommendation from him, Wilson, and Cuddy - that's the Dean of Medicine at PPTH — saying that I shadowed with House and Wilson and showed a lot of promise. I didn't do any shadowing, beyond following House around, the letters from Cuddy and Wilson are both fake. Wilson knows about his, but Cuddy has no idea, and she'd be jack-pissed if she did...and on top of that, House, he..."

God, now that I was saying all of this out loud, I was feeling more and more like an undeserving asshole.

"It gets worse?" Zach asked with a snort.

"He bribed the AO who did my interview."

"How much?"

"I don't know the exact amount, but suffice it to say? A lot. And I mentioned Vogler to you before."

"That dickhead millionaire who took over the hospital?"

"Yeah."

"He knows, doesn't he? About House doing shady shit to get you into Princeton?"

"Yup. And now he's trying to use me as leverage over House. He wants House to give a speech for some new crap drug that Eastbrook Pharmaceuticals is putting out, which is totally against everything that he is and stands for, if House stands for anything...which is up for debate all by itself...shit." I put my head in my hands and groaned loudly. "I'm so fucked. I don't know what to do."

"Have you talked to your dad?"

"No. I don't know what to say. I'm...I'm at a loss. I'm gonna lose my chance at a future if he doesn't do it, but I have no guarantee that he will, and I have no guarantee that Vogler isn't just going to use this to blackmail House perpetually. When does it end?"

"It ends when you give up the scholarship. When you give up going to Princeton." Zach ashed his cigarette against the concrete. "You know that."

I did. I did know that. But I was selfish. I wanted this more than anything. It had been something I'd worked for my entire life in my own world, and I'd feared it had been torn away from me when I was sent here. But thanks to House, who had gone above and beyond for me in a way I hadn't ever dreamed possible, it looked like being a doctor was still in my future.

Until now.

You weren't sent here to get everything that you want. You weren't sent here for YOU. You were sent here for House. The bribe could ruin everything. And if my future knowledge goes out the window, what use am I? Great. I'm a doctor. But I won't be able to save the people who matter most to me.

If I couldn't save House, what was the point?

But goddamn, I wanted this. I wanted it so badly.

House's words echoed in my head: "Turn down the scholarship. Withdraw from Princeton. If you think that selflessness counts for anything in the real world, then I'll drive you there in the morning and you can tell the dean everything."

"You're always about doing the right thing. I'm surprised you haven't already come clean to the admissions people at Princeton."

"Right is subjective," I said miserably, quoting House aloud this time. "I'm a piece of shit, okay? I admit it. I don't want to give this up."

"I'm not saying you're a piece of shit. Anyone in their right mind would hold onto that scholarship with everything they've got. In your place, I'd be begging House on my hands and knees to go along with whatever that Vogler dude wants. You're getting a once-in-a-lifetime chance to be something great. To do everything you ever wanted to do. Wanting all of that, wanting to keep it whether you earned it or not, that's just human."

I need to be better than human. "I don't deserve it."

"People don't get what they deserve very often," Zach replied, sinking down next to me. "Take what you can get when you can get it. But if you're looking for a solution, you know the only one is to bail on Princeton. You bail, or you beg House to do the speech, but it ain't gonna be the last time Vogler tries to use you against him. You—"

"Know that. Yeah. I fucking know that," I snapped, frustrated. I immediately felt like an ass for my harsh tone. "Sorry, sorry. I'm just a wreck right now."

"Then how about we get out of here?" Zach suggested. "Hop in your car, drive it around. Pretend everything's okay for awhile."

"Her, not it."

"Huh?"

"The car is a her. I named her."

Zach gave me a lazy half-smile as he pushed himself back to his feet. "What did you name her?"

"Lola," I told him.

"Why that?"

"I dunno. Just seemed to fit." I got up, heading to the car. Some fresh air, time to clear my head and decide what to do? That was exactly what I needed right now. Because I had three days max to get my shit together, or everything was going to come crashing down.

I strolled into the differential room the next morning, holding on tight to what little determination that I had. I was surprised to find Wilson seated at the table with the team. I didn't know exactly where they were in the episode, but cancer had obviously been brought into the mix somewhere along the lines, if Wilson was helping out.

"Another killer fungus. It's consistent with hairy-cell leukemia," Wilson said just as I entered the room. Yep. Cancer.

The team's heads turned when I pushed through the door. I raised a hand in greeting. "Howdy." I seated myself next to Chase. "Don't stop on my account."

"Thought I told you to scram," House said. "I thought you were trying to keep me from getting fired?"

"I just saw Vogler head out to his car. We're safe for the time being."

"Unless we have a rat in our midst." He arched his eyebrows dramatically, narrowing one eye at each team member individually. Chase snorted, Cameron gave him an exasperated look, and Wilson paid him no heed whatsoever.

"Can we focus?" Foreman asked tiredly.

"Fine. But just remember: Old Man House can smell fear." House turned back to the board, spinning his cane. "We can't biopsy his spleen. Not with the respiratory distress he's under. His platelets are twenty and dropping."

"His blood's not clotting," I surmised.

"Thank you, Doogie Howser, for that stunning insight," House said, back still turned to me.

"There's got to be another way to diagnose hairy-cell," Cameron spoke up.

Wilson shook his head. "His bone marrow's indeterminate, the spleen biopsy is the only way to go."

"You know, when the Inuit go fishing, they don't look for fish," House said, to the mystification of everyone at the table.

Everyone glanced around at each other for a few moments before Wilson rolled his eyes and leaned forward. "Why, Dr. House?" he asked, not without ample sarcasm.

House turned, satisfied that somebody had asked. Reveals had to be dramatic, of course. "They look for the blue heron, because there's no way to see the fish. But if there's fish, there's gonna be birds fishing. Now, if he's got hairy-cell, what else should we see circling overhead?"

"He should have all sorts of weird viruses," Chase said, catching on.

"ATLV and HTLV," Cameron suggested.

House nodded. "We can test for them. Run the titers." House made a shooing motion. "Go on. Find those damn herons. They're an invasive species, you know."

"No they're not," I said.

"Shut up."

Foreman and Cameron departed without a thought, but Chase lingered at the door. He glanced over his shoulder at me. House, Wilson and I turned our attention to Chase.

"Do you need your Pampers changed?" House asked.

"I've been hearing things since I came back," Chase said. "About the mob patient that you treated. That he died. And that something happened that put her and one of her friends in the ER."

I looked at House sharply. "You never told him?"

"Neither did you," House countered.

Chase walked up to me. He brushed my hair away from forehead, trying to inspect my wound. I blushed, but said nothing. Okay, so I hadn't told him, but he hadn't asked. I'd seen his eyes go to my stitches yesterday, but he hadn't asked. I was trying to forget, so sue me. The faster I could pretend like Mob Rules never happened, the better. Lesson learned, but the events that lead up to that delightful teaching experience? I'd rather bury all of that.

"This is deep. How bad of a concussion did you get?"

"I don't remember so good anymore," I joked. "House tells me that I'm a live-in maid that he took in off the streets."

"This isn't funny. Cameron and Foreman won't talk to me about it. What the hell happened while I was gone?"

"Does it really concern you?" House didn't seem worried by Chase's line of questioning, not that House ever seemed very worried about anything.

"House," Wilson said, a warning in his voice. He looked up at Chase. "If you're worried about the mob coming back for seconds, don't. Everything is put to bed."

"No more kidnappings," I said with a strained smile.

"You were kidnapped!?"

"You just had to say that," House sighed loudly. "Yes. She got kidnapped. Then, she got un-kidnapped. Now look at her. The picture of happiness. Right, kid?"

"Couldn't be better," I lied.

"Why are you brushing over this like it's nothing? I read their ER charts, her and her friend looked like they'd both been beat to bloody hell and back. Why are the police not involved?"

"Because I didn't tell the police anything," I cut across Chase, not wanting to open up this conversation. We didn't need anyone poking around what had happened to Zach and I; if anyone figured out exactly what went down with Joey Arnello, House could kiss his medical license and his freedom goodbye, as could Foreman. I needed to squash this. "I don't want to talk about it. I want to pretend it never happened. It's over and done with, so drop it. Please." I hated being so harsh, especially to Chase, but we couldn't afford anyone looking deeper, even him.

Chase drew his hand away, surprised by my sharpness. "Okay, fine...sorry I overstepped."

"It's okay," I said quickly. "Just...I've moved past it." I flicked my eyes between Wilson and Chase. "Can you guys scram for a second? I need to talk to my dad."

"Me too?" Wilson asked, half-disbelieving.

"Did you think she was talking about her imaginary friend? Go help Cameron and Foreman."

"House, I have my own patients," Wilson protested.

"Yeah, but this one might actually live. Wouldn't that be a nice change?"

That statement sent Wilson right out the door with a sour expression, Chase trailing behind him. House headed into his office wordlessly, and I followed him.

"That still doesn't roll off the tongue too easily, does it?" House said once he'd sunk down into his office chair and turned on his tiny TV. Time for him to catch up on his soaps.

"What?"

"Dad," he said. "You're playing the part well, I'll give you that."

Sometimes it doesn't feel so much like a part, anymore. "We've got to talk."

"So I've heard. Thrill me. What's the problem of the day?"

"Vogler."

"That's problem of the season. Be more specific."

This season had plenty of problems, but Vogler was certainly the biggest so far. "He knows you bribed my AO. From what I understand, he knows pretty much everything about how you got me into Princeton. If you don't do what he wants, he's going to rat me out and get me kicked out. I don't know what would happen to you, but I'm guessing nothing good would come of it. I'd say it would damage your reputation, but you already have a reputation as an evil bastard, so it can't really get worse from here..." I tried to reorient myself with a head shake. "I'm getting off track. What I'm trying to do is ask you to do this for me. You were willing to put your neck out on the line for me before, and I appreciate the hell out of that...but now I don't need you to do something reckless, or illegal, or crazy. I need you to do the safe thing."

"He wants me to whore myself out for Eastbrook, doesn't he? The new ACE Inhibitor," House guessed, throwing his feet up on his desk and crossing his ankles.

"He needs you to make the speech at the National Cardiology Conference next week. That's all he's asked."

"It won't be the last thing he asks."

I had no argument. "It's up to you, House."

House snorted. "This is some kind of relief for you, isn't it? Leaving it up to me, so you don't have to feel bad when things go to shit?" He had a gleam in his eye. "You get to shrug the choice off on somebody else, for once. I'm surprised. Usually you're all about falling on the sword."

I'm surprising everyone lately, aren't I? "You can say no. I'll figure something out. I'm pretty sure God didn't ship me here so I could be Doctor Barbie. If I have to give this up, I'll give it up, but...I had to ask, okay? So, rip me a new one. Tell me I'm just as selfish and self-interested and self-obsessed and self-whatever as everybody else. But give me an answer now, because time's running out."

House's attention moved from his soaps and landed on me. He watched me for a few moments, and something that might've been a smirk tugged at his lips for a fraction of a second. "Tell Vogler he'll get his speech."