The group of three sat around the table in the conference room, watching as Dr. House loaded up another level of Beat Hero on the VR machine that was recently purchased by the hospital as a way to expand treatment teaching options. Virtual reality surgeries? Yeah, because that was the same thing as learning on an actual patient. Surely, nothing will go wrong with that. Of course, there was a big note that read: FOR TEACHING PURPOSES ONLY! -That means you, House!
Adorable yet kind, whoever put that note on there thought of him so much, he couldn't help but be flattered. In fact, something was telling him he should get a printout of that note and put it on a t-shirt.
"Uh… boss?" Chase started, only to be cut off by House spinning around in a circle, trying to find out where the source of his voice was coming from, even going as far as to look up at the ceiling as if that was a realistic option.
"Who said that?" House loudly and sarcastically asked. "If you're not a part of the game, then you don't exist to me." House turned to face the wall, only to pause and turn back around again. "Don't call me boss. That feels wrong."
"It sure does…." Foreman mumbled, leaning against his propped-up elbow. He had no idea why having a younger boss bothered him so much, but it does. Maybe it had something to do with the fact he surpassed him at a younger age and acted like a know-it-all.
"Are we going to… do anything about the patient?" Chase continued, ignoring Foreman's comment.
"Man, does this game have some good audio? Almost sounds like somebody is talking to me." House began swinging the hand controllers towards the blocks only he could see within the VR headset.
The door slowly opened, with Wilson peaking his head inside to see if House was still playing that stupid game as he was this morning. He couldn't believe that Cuddy hadn't caught onto him yet. Surely, she must have thought that he was being too quiet. It was almost noon, and he hadn't done anything to get himself landed in her office, which in itself was both a miracle and highly concerning. Or, on the other hand, she was fully aware, and she was going to let it slide just so he wouldn't keep bugging her. Annoying her seemed like one of his favourite past times if he wasn't bothering her; it was clinging to Wilson while he was working.
"Has he taken a break from this yet?" Wilson quietly asked the group after walking into the room, his arms folded across his chest as he watched House swing the controllers around.
Wilson could understand playing video games, mainly since he played some in his spare time at home. VR though? He couldn't understand the appeal of that. Whenever House almost punched a wall or the bookcase, Wilson couldn't help but flinch, knowing that if he got hurt, he would have to hear him whine about it for hours. Honestly, he wasn't sure how much more complaining he could listen to from him today; there was a reason why he was here to collect House.
"House!" Wilson shouted, causing the younger man to lose his grip on one of the controllers, accidentally flinging it across the room and hitting the wall.
Son of a bitch.
"What?!" House shouted angrily as he ripped the headset off, feeling slightly disoriented as he got used to reality. "What do you-" House immediately stopped upon seeing Wilson standing there with a smile on his face and his arms still crossed while waiting for House to realise he was waiting for him. He huffed, fidgeting with the headset in his hands. "What?" He asked again, in a much more gentler tone, one that was foreign to the team.
"We have an appointment, remember?" Wilson waved the file he had tucked under his arm.
House rolled his eyes. That's right, he had a checkup with his primary doctor, which he wouldn't have trusted to be anybody else other than Wilson. Cuddy and Wilson questioned what House would do if he ever got sick before; with a totally House answer, he told them that he either waited it out or would take care of himself. While self-prescribing wasn't in itself illegal, it was frowned upon, even prohibited in some healthcare settings. Cuddy told House what she would tell all her other doctors: be smart about it and don't abuse the prescription pad.
"Was that today?" House questioned innocently, checking a nonexistent watch on his wrist. "I'm a bit busy right now."
"Busy?" Wilson raised an eyebrow, looking between House and his poor team, who were sitting around watching and waiting for their boss to do something that wasn't video games. "Think Cuddy would appreciate you getting paid for this?"
"I'm learning how to perform surgery!"
"What surgery involves swinging your arms like that?" Foreman questioned, sitting back in his seat, waiting for his boss's ridiculous answer.
He had to admit, he didn't expect to have a boss younger than him, and he sure didn't expect him to act like… well, the only way he could describe it now, to act like House. However, he had to admire how he didn't seem to care about how the world perceived him, even if he could be harsh about it, but the kid was brilliant. Give him a couple of hours with an unknown, brand-new disease, and he will most likely find a treatment plan.
"The kind that I'm learning!" House answered, pointing at Foreman with the controller. "It's a new procedure."
"Oh, this should be good," Cuddy's voice came from the doorway, her arms folded across her chest. "Didn't you see my note?"
"Oh, this?" House reached into his front pocket, pulling out the crumpled-up sticky note. "Yeah. It was a teaching moment, just like you wrote."
"Give it to me." Cuddy held her hand out as she walked further into the room as if trying to take something away from a toddler. "And, for god's sake, change your shirt," she tacked on as soon as House placed the headset in her opened hand.
"What's wrong with my shirt?"
Cameron craned her neck to see what ridiculous shirt House decided he wanted to 'bless' them with today. Totally his words.
"Celebrating 650 years of the Bubonic Plague…." She read aloud, taking note of the poorly drawn rat underneath the words. "Wha… where do you even find these?"
"The internet is both a blessing and a curse."
"I have a fresh bowl of lollipops waiting for you if you make it to your appointment on time," Wilson bribed as if he were a child who didn't want to see a doctor.
House clicked his tongue in response, dropping the headset in Cuddy's arms.
"How could I resist?" House said with a smirk.
"Anything that'll get you out of seeing the patients, huh?" Cuddy questioned with an eye roll. "Don't forget about your clinic duty today."
"But, mooom," House whined dramatically.
"How're you sleeping?" Wilson asked, gentling massaging House's lymph nodes on his neck to ensure nothing was swollen or felt out of place. "You have dark circles under your eyes."
House scoffed, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lip. He rolled his shoulder, the muscle in his arm sore from the shot he had just gotten.
"Sleeping just fine, Doctor."
"Liar." He applied firm yet gentle pressure underneath House's eyes and around his sinuses. "Does that hurt?" House only shook his head, his eyes darting away from Wilson's after he had caught him in his lie. Maybe House having his best and only friend as his primary doctor wasn't the best or smartest idea, but he was the only one he could trust 100% in this world. "Why aren't you sleeping?" He tried again, carefully using his thumb to scrape the crust from the corner of House's eyes.
"I just can't."
"Is the job stressing you out? Are you eating?"
Wilson already knew the answer to the latter. He and House took their lunches together every single day; whether House realised it or not, Wilson always kept a mental journal on how much he had been eating. Some weeks, he'll be great about it; other weeks, he would barely eat. Then there were times when House wouldn't even look at food with no explanation except that he wasn't hungry. Wilson had learned quickly to never bring up that House's eating habits had changed; instead, his best bet was to offer him some of his food, and he'd eventually take the bait and eat something.
"Nothing stresses me out. I'm the stressor in the workplace, not the other way around."
Wilson rolled his eyes, waiting for the other answer, but wasn't going to hold his breath. Getting anything too personal from House was like pulling teeth; he either had to be completely broken down or wasted to answer anything outside the familiar realm of his typical sarcastic nature.
"How would you feel about sleeping pills?"
"No. I don't trust doctors." Wilson only stared at him; he knew he was joking, but his overly monotone voice could be difficult to read sometimes.
"Can I at least give you an allergy pill real quick?" Wilson gently pressed underneath House's eyes, causing him to flinch slightly in response. "Your eyes are getting puffy."
"Is it a Diphenhydramine?"
"Not at all. We need you focused."
"Fine."
Wilson moved towards the medicine cabinet that was locked up next to the desk. Whatever help he was able to provide House, he certainly would.
"How's your team coming along?" Wilson questioned, trying to keep any conversation going as he turned back towards House, holding out a small, white pill. "They disappoint you yet?"
"Always." House held up the pill he was just given, trying to get a better look at the identification codes printed on it. Did he actually know what he was looking for? Not exactly. "Don't trust doctors, remember?" He downed the pill dry; how he could do that, Wilson wasn't sure, but he knew that it freaked him out.
"You've got a clean bill of health. I'll send this over to Cuddy."
House hummed, holding his hand out to Wilson, who looked between it and his eyes.
"What?" He asked him.
"Lollipop."
Wilson couldn't help but let out a small laugh, grabbing the small jar on the exam room desk.
"You're a child."
"Where's our fearless leader?" Foreman questioned as he approached the other two from his team, who had been flipping through books in their boss's office. Thankfully, their boss wasn't there to see them trying to find an answer through reading. Not only would he call them nerds, but would belittle them for not knowing the solution on top of their heads. "I think it'd be best if he checked on the patient."
"Thaat's a good question," Chase answered, his eyes locked on the new page he flipped to, scanning the page as fast as he could for keywords. "He's been comin' and goin' for the past hour."
Like clockwork, the glass door swung open to enter a shaky House, holding a plastic bag from the nearby gas station and a candy bar hanging from his mouth. His stride didn't break as he went over to his messy desk, not even noticing Chase and Cameron slowly closing the books they were looking through.
"What've we figured out?" House questioned loudly, dropping the bag on his desk before forcing the window behind his office chair open.
The team was about to speak, but seeing House lean out the window as far as he could made them stop immediately. House did highly questionable things, some of which didn't make any sense, and this was undoubtedly one of those times. Was he looking for something? Trying to hide from Cuddy? Honestly, the possibilities with House were endless.
"Am I speaking to myself?" He asked louder as he pulled himself back inside the room. "What did we find?" He waved his hand in a circle to tell them to hurry up and get on with it. They had all the time in the world for now, but House didn't want to spend too long on a case; there could always be something more interesting.
"Uh… patient is suffering from severe abdominal pains," Cameron started, only to trail off to watch as House began to rummage through the bag he brought in with him. "We can't… figure out…" she failed to complete her sentence as soon as House pulled out a pack of cigarettes from the bag. "You're not going to smoke in here, are you?"
"You smoke?" Foreman questioned, folding his arms across his chest. House was many things; he was probably into a lot of weird things, but smoking didn't seem like one of his habits.
"My job is veerry stressful."
"We just think it'd be best if you…." Foreman tried to say but cut himself off when House moved back towards the window, leaning out before lighting up the cigarette between his fingers. "What the hell are you doing?"
"I'm starving!" House shouted from out the window.
"Want something from the vending machine?" Cameron offered, standing up from her chair.
"Nope!"
Wait, if House brought a bag from the gas station that appeared to be almost full and wasn't snacks, what the hell did he buy? Foreman's curiosity was getting the best of him, and he couldn't stop himself from peeking into the bag. His eyebrows furrowed together, and he grabbed the bag and dumped out five packs of cigarettes.
"You sure are stressed, huh?"
"Like you wouldn't believe!"
As House took a rather long drag of his cigarette, he squinted as he looked down at the parking lot, the sun bouncing off the windshield of the familiar car that just pulled into the space. Why Cuddy chose to park out in the parking lot rather than the ramp, House couldn't figure it out; the small part of House's prefrontal cortex was warning him that he needed to fling the cigarette and get back inside before Cuddy saw him. On the other hand….
"Mornin'!" House shouted as loud as he could, watching as Cuddy looked around, trying to find the source of the voice.
"What are you doing?!" Foreman hissed.
As soon as Cuddy looked up, House gave her a small wave with a smug grin and a cigarette still tucked in between his fingers. He knew what he was doing, almost as if he wanted Cuddy to get mad at him.
"Are you fu-" Cuddy continued to speak, but House could not hear her due to a car horn going off somewhere nearby, but he was sure he could figure out what she was trying to say.
"Huh?!" House cupped a hand around his ear. "Sorry! It's a bit loud down there!"
Without saying anything more, Cuddy stormed towards the building, ready to give him the most extensive lecture she could possibly give. It wasn't a secret to her that House smoked; there have been plenty of times where she tried to get him to give up the gross habit, to no avail. House was House. He didn't need anybody's help and would kick his nicotine addiction whenever he wanted to. Both Cuddy and Wilson tried telling him that he was prone to addictions, but he didn't want to hear it. Alcohol, cigarettes, and they were beginning to suspect gambling; he was an adult, and they couldn't force him to change his lifestyle, but they sure could annoy him about it.
House brought himself back in from the window, flicking the cigarette butt out, seeing which car he could get it to land on. He furrowed his brows, not understanding his impulsive actions. Well, he knew he was impulsive at times, that's just how he was, but purposely smoking inside and getting Cuddy's attention while doing so was over the top, even for him.
"What'd I just do?" He questioned his team.
"Pissed off Cuddy."
"What else is new?" Foreman questioned.
House grumbled something under his breath. As soon as Foreman started bringing up the facts on this case file, he immediately lost interest in everything that he was explaining to him.
"No," House interrupted him. "Everyone out."
"House, c'mon…."
"Go away." He waved his hand to signal that he was done talking about the case. It may be his patient, but it didn't interest him in the slightest. "Abdominal pain? Does she still have her appendix?"
"Uh…." Foreman fumbled through the chart on the clipboard he had been carrying around. "Nothing about an appendectomy…."
"Great! CT scan. Chop chop!"
"We already did a CT scan," Cameron spoke up. "Nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the abdominal area."
House sighed deeply; what part of 'everyone out' did they not understand? Did he have to paint the picture for them with every single case?
"Then you move on to an MRI. I hope you didn't pay too much for medical school, 'cause… eesh." House rolled his eyes. "I'm sure this will somehow take all three of you to do-"
"Everyone out!" Cuddy shouted, causing House to flinch in response.
The team all went silent, gathering their belongings as they made their way towards the door behind where Cuddy was standing. House looked between the group leaving and Cuddy.
House stretched his arms in the air, leaning to the side as he moved towards his team.
"Yeah, I'm with ya. This office does seem stuffy, doesn't it?" House forced a yawn before he passed his boss. "Well, I'll just step outside and…." Thinking quickly, he snatched the clipboard from Foreman. "Check on the patient."
"Not. You." Cuddy grabbed House's shirt sleeve, pulling him back into the office. "Here," she tried saying in a calmer tone, taking the clipboard from House and holding it back to Foreman. "Go sit down," she hissed back at House.
"You go," Chase told Cameron.
She scoffed, folding her arms across her chest.
"Why me?"
"He likes you the most," Foreman added. "Tell him he needs to see the patient ASAP."
"He hates me."
"He doesn't hate you." Chase grabbed Cameron's shoulders, spinning her around to face the other end of the hallway leading down to House's office. "Go."
"Cuddy just left his office, he's probably in a shitty mood."
"You're… pretty. You'll be able to cheer House up."
Before Cameron could question Chase's comment at her, he had lightly pushed her so she would start going. Letting out a huff, she continued moving down the hallway, trying to form what she would say to him before standing in his office. House was the sort of person who would pick and tear apart anything you said and use it against you just because he could. Maybe if she mentioned that the tests they ran didn't work and couldn't diagnose the patient themselves. That would go one of two ways: one; he'd get really excited but then disappointed that the answer was 'right in front of them.' Or two; he would gather them all together and call them idiots before degrading them further while trying to point them in the correct direction.
Looking into House's office through the large glass door, she could see that he was alone, sitting in his office chair with his back to the door while fidgeting with something.
Okay, you can do this…. You got this…. Cameron mentally prepared herself, letting out a shaky sigh before knocking at the glass door, waiting for him to acknowledge her. Still, he didn't even more from his spot. Dammit, House…. She slowly opened his door, surprised to find it wasn't locked.
"House?" She called out gently, making sure the door was closed behind her. She didn't move from her spot as her anxiety was keeping her grounded. She didn't want to move until he had given her permission; it was his office, after all; on their first day, he warned them to never touch anything. "I need help with something…." Cameron tried again, hoping that something would grab his attention; whether it would be demeaning or the off chance that he would attempt to help, she didn't care which.
Without saying anything, House held his arm back over his shoulder, his hand outstretched as if waiting for her to put something in it. Swallowing hard, she cautiously moved towards him, knowing that he'd had a new hobby of scaring them as of late. With all the anxiety she was feeling with trying to get him involved with the case, she didn't feel like getting jump-scared right now. Once the clipboard made contact with his hand, he snatched it away from her before tossing something high over his shoulder.
"Hold that," House said drily, still not moving an inch from where he was sitting.
Panicking, Camera lunged to the side, catching the worn Rubik's Cube before it fell onto the floor. She let out a quiet sigh of relief, knowing that it would have shattered. She wasn't sure if House was purposely trying to keep her on edge or if he wanted her to break it so he would have more of a reason to be upset.
"So…." House started, moving his finger across the report. "It's appendicitis?"
"It's only mildly inflamed," Cameron started, moving over to stand beside him, reaching over and pointing to the MRI. "See? Nothing that would be causing all these symptoms."
House looked up at her for a moment before looking at the MRI. She was right, nothing there, but he did want them to keep an eye on that appendix.
"You want me to check in on a patient that most likely has appendicitis?" He questioned, making sure he was hearing her right.
"Please?" She said, her tone a little higher pitched than usual. House knew exactly what she was trying to do; she was trying to wrap him around her finger.
"That doesn't work on me," he simply stated, handing the file back to her.
"House…." She pleaded, putting a hand on his shoulder and giving it a slight squeeze. It didn't take long for him to roll his shoulder, sitting up from his chair.
"Alright, alright…." He waved his hand towards her, standing up from his seat. He took the Rubik's Cube from her before leaving his office without another word; she had to scramble to catch up with him. "Keep up or go home!" He shouted at his team, knowing they all had to be nearby.
Foreman and Chase looked at Cameron with a confused look as she emerged from his office, and she could only shrug in response as she was trying to catch up with him. The other two doctors stood on either side of her, watching their boss move down the hall as if he knew where he was going. Letting out a huff, Foreman reached out, grabbing House by the shoulders and spinning him around to face the correct direction of where they were headed.
"If this is just a case of appendicitis, I swear to god!" He shouted, approaching the room of the patient.
"Not in a good mood, eh?" Chase whispered to Cameron, who only shook her head in response.
When House opened the door rather forcefully, he walked into the room. He didn't say anything to the startled patient and their family member. They watched with wide eyes as the young doctor pulled himself onto the nurse's table, his heels tapping against the base.
"What's wrong with you?" Was the only thing that House asked the patient, tilting his head to the side as if he had already decided what was wrong.
"And… who are-"
"Doctor House!" He hopped off the table, grabbing the patient chart before returning to his spot on the table. "The only one you haven't met yet because this seems to be a simple case of appendicitis and therefore not worth my time." He shrugged. "What's wrong with you…." He trailed off, having no idea what the patient's name was. "Uh…."
"Timothy," Cameron finished for him.
"Beautiful name."
He hopped off the table again, going over to the patient lying on the bed while putting on a pair of gloves; the patient watched him in confusion, like he was waiting for the punchline to a cruel joke. House tilted his head to the side, waiting for the patient to say something. They stared at each other a moment before….
"Boo!" House shouted, startling Timothy causing him to yelp.
"… he's a professional," Chase told the visitor with a small, apologetic smile.
In that split second that the patient had his mouth open, House grabbed for the small flashlight in his pocket before grasping at Timothy's face, moving him so was he facing him.
"Open your mouth."
"House," Cameron hissed, walking up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "We talked about this. Be nicer."
He rolled his eyes.
"Please open your mouth."
Before the patient or their visitor could say anything, House practically began to pry his mouth open, looking inside with the flashlight to confirm exactly what he thought he saw.
"Aw, sick!" House said out loud, poking at the inside of the patient's mouth. "Does that hurt?"
"Uhhuh," he mumbled, flinching.
"Huh… What about this?"
Timothy yelped in response, moving away from House's hand.
"Oh, c'mon. Don't be a baby."
"House," Cameron hissed, smacking him lightly on the arm.
"Lesions! Many of them!" House announced loudly, removing the gloves and throwing them in a nearby trash can. "Right in your mouth." He pulled himself back onto the table, staring at Timothy again, to which the patient felt like he was staring through his soul. "Usually pretty common, but… not like that." He paused. "You certainly didn't come in here with appendicitis… But! We should get that removed while you're here."
"Wait, wait, what?" The visitor finally stepped in, unable to follow House's words.
"Appendix." House made a popping sound before leaning back on his arms. "That's gotta go; that's just something extra we found, though. Your original complaints don't line up with appendicitis…." He trailed off again, biting his tongue as he tried to think.
That was the good news; House was semi-interested in whatever was going on with this guy. Whether it was just an unfortunate case of appendicitis along with some canker sores or if something else was going on, House wanted to find out. If he was able to focus, that is…. He sure was uncharacteristically starving today for someone who had a poor appetite lately.
"Stay there," he ordered the patient as a small joke, knowing they couldn't leave. "Let's go," he ordered his team, hopping off the table and leaving the room before the guests could ask any follow-up questions. "Whose got a dollar?" He questioned, spinning around to face them while we walked backward; his hand opened, waiting.
"Oh, uh…." Chase fumbled for his wallet, pulling out a dollar bill. "Here."
"Glorious." He snatched the bill from him. "Get a culture of those lesions. See what we're dealing with. Viral, bacteria…. Yadda yadda yadda…." He waved his hand at them, turning back around as he approached the vending machine. "You went to medical school. You know how this works."
Foreman couldn't help but watch the young doctor struggle to put the dollar into the vending machine. He had been snacking all day; while he wasn't highly observant of House on the daily, he knew this snacking certainly wasn't like him.
"You doin' alright?" Foreman questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Are you pregnant?"
"Oh yeah," House responded sarcastically. "Abortion failed; now I'm stuck with them." He pressed several numbers on the keypad, watching anxiously for the snack to fall. "No… No, no, no, don't!" He shouted at the machine, watching the snack fall against the glass. "Fuck!" He shouted, resting his fists against the machine. He took a deep breath, trying to keep himself from losing it in the floor's lobby; he pressed his forehead against the glass. "Why does everything bad happen to me?" He jokingly whined, staring at the snack that was taunting him.
"Here," Foreman said as he tried handing him another dollar.
House snatched it from him, pocketing the bill before turning his attention back to the snack that was still taunting him.
"You won't win this one…." He said to himself, lighting banging his fists against the glass. "Go do the… thing I told you to do!" He shouted at his team, waving his hand telling them to go away. "I'll be here if you need me, but don't need me."
It had been about an hour since House had sent his team away to run tests, and since then, he hadn't moved from his spot, staring down the snack still stuck against the glass. He was sitting cross-legged in front of the machine, rocking back and forth slightly as he was focused.
"What… are you doing?" Wilson's voice came from behind him.
"Shh shh shh!" House hissed, not moving his gaze. "I'm busy."
Wilson met his gaze, landing on the snack. He let out a sigh, rolling his eyes.
"House, no."
"House, yes!" He retorted. "I'm not leaving until-" He smacked Wilson's hand as soon as he tried to put another bill in the vending machine so he would stop wasting time on whatever this was. "Don't!"
"I'll just buy you another snack!"
"Another snack…." House mumbled, standing up from the floor. He looked at Wilson's face in silence, attempting to read him.
"What? …. What?!" Wilson stammered, hating whenever he did that to him. "Stop doing… that!" House tilted his head to the side. Wilson let out a huff. "What?"
"You did something…." House said slowly, still trying to read him.
"N-no!"
"You stuttered. You only do that when you did something…." He snatched the dollar from Wilson's hand.
Wilson scoffed in annoyance, folding his arms over his chest, trying to think of something he could say to make House back off. House was someone who wouldn't let anything go until he figured it out and was proven right, even if he was wrong.
"I understand you're an untrusting person, House, but-"
"You drugged me!" He shouted.
Wilson gave an apologetic smile to the nurses who had been walking by as he said that, he didn't want them overhearing or assuming whatever House was accusing him of.
"You son of a-"
"House!" Cuddy's voice rang down the hall, storming towards her two employees.
"I am so glad you're here!" House said, his arms outstretched as he met her halfway. "My co drugged me! Do something about it!" He whined, reminding Cuddy of a child who wasn't getting his way.
Cuddy looked between House and Wilson, who only shrugged in response. She wasn't sure what pranks they were pitting against each other this time, but she didn't really want to know.
"Wilson? You're saying… Wilson drugged you?" She questioned, folding her arms over her chest and raising an eyebrow, obviously not believing him. "And why would he do that?"
"Yeah? Why would you do that?" House asked his best friend.
"Look, House…. Just because your body is crashing from lack of food doesn't mean I drugged you. I gave you an allergy pill, that's it."
Cuddy let out a frustrated sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose.
"Okay! I don't care about whatever domestic dispute you two have going on right now, but I'm trying to run a hospital." House tilted his head in confusion before he and Wilson looked at each other. "You have two minutes to figure this out before you:," she pointed at House, "get to the clinic. And you:," she moved to Wilson, "get to your patients."
Before either doctor could say anything, she moved past them, walking with a purpose as she returned to her office.
"Aaand nobody's going to believe you," Wilson said quietly before sipping his coffee.
"What was it?"
"Oxandrolone."
"Very nice." House checked his watch. "I'm gonna take a nap in the clinic. Sleep off the steroids you drugged me with."
"It was for your own good. Still didn't tell me why you're not eating."
House hummed in response. "Goodnight," he said, patting Wilson on the shoulder before heading towards the clinic like their boss told him to.
Cameron had been sitting in front of the microscope for almost an hour, staring at the sample that Foreman had gotten from the patient for her. It was down to her to figure this one out; Chase didn't have the patience to sit still and stare at the sample, while Foreman had to take over House's clinic duties. She would be a liar if she said she wasn't starting to get frustrated with this task. Microbiology was never her strong suit, and she had no idea what she was looking at. As much as she knew she should call House for help, she was determined to figure it out for herself and make the correct diagnosis. Even though Cameron would never admit it, she wanted to do this to impress him. She knew that House looked down at her; he would always make small, annoying comments about how he'd take anybody's medical opinion besides hers or tell her that she cares too much about her patients.
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Cameron looked away from the microscope lens, feeling a slight headache coming on. She wasn't about to give up on this, though. If she had to sit through and compare samples for the rest of the day, then she would.
"Giving up already?" House's voice came from behind her, causing Cameron to unexpectedly jump in surprise. She didn't even hear the door of the lab open.
"No…." Cameron said, looking back down the lenses again. "I thought you had a clinic nap to take," she said sarcastically, readjusting the view.
"What? I can't check in on my Ducklings?" House replied just as sarcastically, closing the door of the lab. "Did you find anything with the culture?" He questioned, walking over to the table that she was sitting at. He nudged Cameron's shoulder; she didn't realise how close he had gotten to her when she looked up at him. "Move."
"What? No, I got it…." Cameron mumbled, looking back through the lens.
"You've been in here for almost two hours. Mom said it was my turn to use the microscope." Cameron lightly elbowed his side, silently telling him to go away while she studied the sample again. "Mine," he said quickly, swiping the slide out from the microscope.
Cameron let out a defeated sigh, leaning up and giving him an irritated look.
"You always say my opinion doesn't matter, yet you don't give me a chance." House tilted his head to the side in confusion, but she could see through his manipulative look. "You know exactly what I'm talking about."
"My jokes make you that upset?" He waved a hand towards her, telling her to move from the chair.
"They're not jokes, and you know it. Why'd you hire me if-"
"Cuddy hired you. I couldn't be bothered." He twirled the sample lens in his fingers.
"Surely you had to sign off on the hire…."
"Do you really want to get into this right now?" House huffed. "Patient is vomiting blood. I let you try, and you took too long."
"He is?"
House tilted his head from side to side as if he was thinking. "Maybe," he said, leaning against the table. "I wasn't really listening."
They stared at each other for a few moments before Cameron quickly reached out, trying to grab the sample from her boss, who moved it away before she could grab it. Whether House really did look down at her more than anybody or he was joking with her, Cameron couldn't tell. House was someone she couldn't figure out; at least she wasn't alone in that; her coworkers couldn't get a good read on him either. The only ones who seemed to understand his tone or if he was joking were Cuddy and Wilson, who often had to translate what he was trying to say to them.
"You're being a jerk," Cameron finally blurted out.
"Ooh. Ouch. Never heard that one before." Cameron suddenly stood up, grabbing House's wrist that he held up with the sample tucked between his fingers. Her grip tightened as he slightly tried pulling away to gauge where her grip was. "Well, aren't you bold? If you wanted to hold my hand, all you had to do was ask."
"Give it back," she said with a confident tone, not even giving his comment a reaction. She stepped forward towards him until they were only inches apart from each other. "House."
House couldn't help but chuckle, refusing to give in to her demands. Cameron's face turned red from frustration; she reached out with her other hand, trying to take the sample from him, only for it to accidentally slip through his fingers, shattering against the floor.
"Whoops," House said all too casually. Letting out a frustrated groan, Cameron dropped his wrist. "C'mon, don't be upset that you made me drop it."
"You…." Cameron trailed off, not wanting to give him the reaction he wanted. "Did that on purpose!" She couldn't help but blurt out again.
"There was a reason you couldn't find anything on that sample," he started. "It's a bad one. I know you didn't do that culture. You're too detailed to get a contaminated sample. Go yell at Foreman; tell him I said he sucks at micro. Work your magic and get a better one. Oh! Grab a blood sample, would you?"
That was the closest thing that House ever said that came close to a compliment, but that also meant he purposely caused her to waste two hours staring at a bad sample to prove a point. While it was very on point for him, but with a patient who was seemingly getting worse, maybe this wasn't the best time. They stared each other down for a moment before House moved around her, stepping over the broken sample.
"You're better than having someone else do your job for you."
Cameron nodded silently, avoiding eye contact as House left the lab. He was right. She should have gotten that sample for herself instead of relying on her coworkers; she just wanted to finish it quickly and bring her findings to House as soon as possible. Now, she had to start over. Great.
"Alright, alright, stop paging me," House said loudly to Chase as he entered the patient's room. "What's your problem now?"
Chase had a mask and gloves on, holding a cloth up to the patient's mouth as he continued to cough up blood. House tilted his head to the side at the sight of blood on the corner of his mouth, which was from something other than just coughing it up.
"Huh…." House mumbled, putting on gloves before removing his stethoscope from around his neck. He motioned for Chase to help the patient sit forward before he pressed the diaphragm over his back. "Did we do a chest x-ray yet?"
"Yeah, about two hours ago," Chase confirmed. "Lungs were fine."
"I want another test done." House moved around, listening to the patient's chest. Everything else sounded clear from that side, so that was a good sign. "How're you feeling?" He questioned the patient, repositioning the stethoscope back around his neck.
"Think I'm gonna puke…." The patient said, suddenly becoming pale.
"Think you're gonna puke? Glorious." House turned around, grabbing a nearby bucket before putting it in front of him on the bed. "Nauseous? We'll get you some Zofran. You'll be alright." He patted the patient on the back before disposing of the gloves in the trash can on the other side of the room. "Dr. Chase will set you up with the second chest x-ray, and we'll see what's going on with you."
House left the room before the patient, or their guest could ask him any follow-up questions. He more so enjoyed the puzzle of figuring out what was wrong with people, he didn't care too much about interacting with them directly. The entire day, he's been spoon-feeding his team on what to say to them; sure, they would probably have better peace of mind if his doctor personally told them, but they got what they got. Cuddy has told him time and time again that no other hospital would allow him to run around ordering tests without physically seeing the patient and told him to at least try to interact with them. Of course, House, being House, wasn't willing to give up his way. He didn't care if his way of working was avoiding the patients in his span of care; in a way, it made him selfish, sure, but that was a part of his mental block. He had extreme difficulty being able to see other people as… well, real people with lives and emotions. Wilson and Cuddy were the only people he saw as actual human beings he cared about. Everyone else seems like ghosts he can brush off and not connect that they're real. With that in mind, he quickly turned around and went to Cuddy's office.
House wasn't the one to knock; it was free game if someone's door was unlocked. He opened Cuddy's office door loudly and quickly, causing her to jump as she was on a phone call while sitting at her desk.
"Jesus…." She mumbled, putting the phone call on mute. "It's like having a toddler running around the hospital."
"What's wrong with me?" He questioned, closing the door a little too hard behind him. Cuddy let out a small sigh, knowing that he was having another crisis.
"Let's see…." She started, putting the phone down. "You're hyper, loud-"
"No! Not that stuff!"
While Cuddy was not a therapist or psychologist by any means, she could understand him enough to walk him through whatever he needed. She was also good at detecting if something was wrong with him, whether it was a change of attitude or demeanour or if he was up to something. Call it a mother's intuition; she would always joke whenever he questioned how she knew something before he could tell her.
"Good at interrupting meetings?" She suggested with a shrug.
"I'm more important than that."
"Self-centred?"
"Stop it."
"Alright…." She motioned towards the seat in front of her desk. "Tell me what's bothering you." House complied, gnawing at his middle knuckle as he tried to think of how to put what he wanted to say into words. Cuddy grabbed a nearby file, hitting it against her desk to get his attention. "Stop doing that," she said sternly, nodding towards your hand. While House didn't mean to hurt himself sometimes, he just… did. It would help him think.
Rolling his eyes, House dropped his hand to his stomach as he slouched in the chair, bouncing his leg, not knowing what he really wanted to say.
"I can't…." He started, biting the inside of his cheek as he was getting frustrated he couldn't put words together. "How do you work with people?" He blatantly asked, knowing that his question didn't come off correctly, but he had to try to get something out in the open.
"What do you mean? Like… how do I deal with them? How do I talk to them?" She asked, curious about what brought this on. House was in her office at least four times a week in the midst of a crisis because he didn't understand how people could just function without difficulty and needed her guidance.
"No… I mean…. Yes?"
Cuddy could see that he was getting frustrated; his leg kept bouncing and he began to chew on his knuckle again.
"Relax," she said gently. There wasn't room for House to have a meltdown today over something like this; the hospital and its patients needed him focused and ready for whatever came in through those doors.
"How do you… care… about people?" He finally asked, refusing to make eye contact with her in case his question was stupid.
"Uh, well…." Cuddy couldn't flat out tell him that caring for others and empathy was normal for most people and that there was no 'how-to' on it. She knew that, even though House would never admit it no matter what, he was insecure in how he doesn't understand how people are just… people. "It's just how humans are, I guess." She didn't know how to answer this correctly that wasn't just opinion-based. "We're born with the tools to have empathy, but it's a learned trait."
"What if someone hasn't learned it?"
"House," she said firmly, grabbing his attention. "You have empathy. I've seen it. If you had zero empathy, we wouldn't be having this conversation. Okay, look at it like this… Remember that time you babysat Rachel, and she accidentally hit her head against the table? You were freaking out even though it was a small bump. You were….?"
"Worried…."
"See? You're fine. Deep down, you care for people you don't know; you just express it differently, and that's okay. Now, can I get back to my meeting?"
House gave her a small smile before standing up from the chair; he knew he could always count on her whenever he needed to be snapped out of any doubt. Cuddy playfully shooed him out of her office before picking up the phone again, continuing wherever she left on her important meeting that she probably mentioned to him a thousand times.
Whatever. He never listened to her anyway.
There was a small knock at the lab door before it opened, revealing Foreman standing in the doorway, tilting his head in confusion as he watched Cameron look through the microscope. She had been at this for almost three hours; surely, she would have found something by now.
"Nothing yet?" He asked her. All the other tests besides the chest x-ray didn't show anything too abnormal besides the apparent appendicitis that was secondary. Whatever they were looking for would be told from whatever she found from the mouth lesion culture. "You've been at this for a while."
Cameron let out a frustrated huff, not moving away from the microscope.
"Would've been done sooner if you didn't contaminate the first sample." She mumbled that Foreman wasn't sure if he had her correctly.
Contaminate the first sample? There was no way he did that. When he went to collect the sample from the mouth lesions, it was a quick in and out with no hassle.
"What are you talking about?" He questioned.
Letting out another sigh, Cameron moved away from the microscope, cracking her back as she began to feel stiff.
"House said you contaminated my first sample, and that's why I couldn't find anything," she explained quietly as if their boss would appear out of nowhere and hear them talking about him. Now, saying it out loud, she wasn't so sure if he was telling her the truth or was just purposely trying to rile her up. …or a possible third reason: he felt bad for her and wanted to make her feel better about taking so long.
Foreman scoffed as if he had been highly offended.
"And you believe him? How could I have contaminated it?"
"I dunno…." She mumbled, looking away from him, feeling slightly embarrassed as her cheeks burned red at the thought that House lied to her. "Maybe…." She trailed off in the middle of having a thought about what was going on. She remembered something that House had said before they had their small argument. "When you took the first culture, was the patient coughing up blood?" She asked quickly, feeling like she was on the right track.
"Not that I noticed. I don't-"
"Oh my god…." Cameron gasped, looking through the lenses of the microscope. "I got it."
Foreman moved next to her as she motioned for him to take her spot in front of the microscope. He only had to look through the lenses for a minute before he realized what they were looking at.
"Anthrax," he said out loud, leaning back on the stool he was sitting in. "How the hell did he get anthrax?"
Cameron nodded towards the door, capturing her findings before they both left to go find House.
They found him in what should have been the last place to look, but knowing House, it would've been the first place to look. He was in his office, spinning slightly in his office chair as he was staring down at the Game Deck in his hands.
"Dr. House?" Cameron started, hoping to get his attention the first time instead of waiting for him to stop hyperfixating on his game for a moment to half-listen to her.
"Yeees…." He said slowly, his face scrunching up in frustration as he died again in whatever game he was playing. "Damn." He turned it off, tossing it lightly on his desk before looking up at her. "Yes?"
"It's anthrax," she said, holding out the report to him.
"No way, that's…-" He trailed off, looking at the sample picture they had gotten for him. "Huh… that's insane." He stood up, still looking at the picture in case he was missing anything else. Looking up at them, he had a small smile. "Do you know how rare anthrax is?"
"About two cases a year in the U.S.," Foreman stated.
"And we got one of them!"
God, House got excited over the most questionable things.
"Where's Chase?"
"With the patient."
After making a quick stop at the pharmacy to pick up the antibiotics that would cure the patient in no time, the three of them checked in on Chase, who was still with the patient like Foreman had told him. It had looked like the coughing-up blood was nothing more than mouth ulcers that had broken open when the patient had gotten sick earlier in the day. That was a relief, but it also meant they wasted time giving the patient a second chest x-ray. Oh well. Better safe than sorry, right?
"I bring a gift!" House said loudly; entering the room as he shook the small vial that was in his hand. "A diagnosis!" He pulled up a chair beside the hospital bed, looking between the patient and their visitor. "I want to know how the hell you contracted anthrax."
The two guests looked at each other, clearly either not understanding the diagnosis or just as confused as he was about the outcome.
"Anthrax? A-are you sure?" The patient questioned.
"Yeah, here." House gave him the picture of the sample that Cameron had printed out. "That's what they look like under a microscope."
"Whoa. Can I keep this?"
"Yeah, sure." House moved to the IV line, injecting the penicillin so they could start the recovery process. "What do you do for a living? Obviously, something with animals? Or maybe you got adventurous and tried an off-animal meat?"
"I uh… actually shear sheep."
"Well, that would explain it, huh? Wild how that works." He capped off the IV line, allowing the medicine to do what it needed to do. "We'll keep you awhile to monitor you before getting that appendix taken out. Antibiotics will clear that out for you. I would tell your boss to get his animals treated. How else are you feeling?"
"Nothing's changed."
House nodded, pulling off the gloves he was wearing and throwing them in the trash. "Well, if that changes… don't bother me. Bother the nurses," he said with a small smile to let the patient know he was joking. House said nothing to his team as he left the room without them. Cuddy had told him to go to the clinic again for another hour after treating the patient, so that was his cue to take another nap.
House had paged his ducklings into the conference room connected to his office, of course, showing up late. Typical House-behaviour. The three doctors were silent after the day they had. There were a lot of pointing fingers and damaged professional relationships, but they'd get past it. They had to; working together daily meant they had to put up with each other or leave.
The door to the conference room swung open, causing Cameron to jump in her seat. With her eyes closed, she let out a breath, trying to calm her heart from beating out of her chest. That was something she wasn't sure she would've gotten used to. For whatever reason or another, House felt the need to make as dramatic entrance as possible with no regard for what may be going on on the other side. Chase continued to fidget with the pen he had held onto that day. Foreman watched as House entered the room as he was eating a bag of Cheetos, and Cameron couldn't help but sit up straight as to remind him that she was a part of this team, too.
"Ducklings!" He said loudly, licking the Cheetos dust off his fingers, sitting at the head of the conference table. "What did we learn today?" He questioned, leaning his chair on their back legs while waiting for an answer. A real answer. "Well…. Chase was my golden duckling today. Cameron. Foreman. What did you two learn today?" While waiting for an answer, he pulled something out of his pocket, standing up from his chair as they began to speak.
"To do my own samples…." Cameron muttered, folding her arms on the table in front of her, watching as House moved over to Chase, silently sticking a small golden star sticker on his forehead.
"Because….?" House pushed, shaking the bag of chips, going back to his chair. He didn't have the patience to wait for her to answer, knowing that she would take a minute to find something deep and meaningful to say. "Because people suck. Best to do things for yourself. It's easy to blame someone else if something goes wrong."
"But… we're a team. We're supposed to work together," Foreman pointed out.
"Work together, sure. That's what I pay you for. Just make sure you trust each other enough to get samples, I guess. And," he looked to Cameron, who avoided his gaze, "if it takes you more than an hour to do a test, maybe lean on your team. When I say team, I literally mean team. Don't call me about a test."
"What if we can't figure it out together?" Chase questioned, the sticker still on his forehead.
"If the three of you can't figure it out, then I'm either going to suggest you all quit, or there is something seriously wrong, and I wanna know about it. Remember: I wanna see anything rabies-related. I think that's the coolest shit."
"What is with you and rabies?" Foreman couldn't help but question.
"Because! In med school, I had the perfect research topic!"
"Rabies?-Rabies!" Foreman and House said at the same time.
"I wanted to infect someone with the disease and capture every stage."
"That's fucked up," Chase said with a slight chuckle. He expected nothing less from his boss.
"Was that before or after you got kicked out of Harvard?" Cuddy's voice came from behind them; she had been standing in the doorway, observing how House interacted with his new team.
"After Harvard, before I got expelled from John Hopkins."
Cameron couldn't help but scoff. "You got kicked out of the top two schools? How the hell did you get kicked out of Harvard?"
"Story for another time," he said, waving his hand. "All of you go home. I'm sick of looking at you."
Cuddy stood aside, waiting patiently as House's team grabbed their stuff and left the conference room. House wasn't sure what she wanted now; as far as he knew, he didn't commit any malpractice today, although he may have had a complaint or two from his clinic work, but that had to have been expected at this point. That, or the nurses complained that he took a nap in the exam room, which would have been an unfair thing to complain about considering the fact it got cut short by Chase paging him.
"I'm gonna practice more surgery," House lied, purposely trying to get a reaction out of his boss as he grabbed the VR headset.
"Admit you care about them," she said, ignoring his comment.
"Care about what?" He questioned, playing dumb as he didn't want to admit anything.
"Your team."
"Nope."
"Uhhuh…. So you casually dropped something personal about yourself because you don't care about them? Do you remember how long it took you to even tell Wilson your name when you first started working here?"
"Well, yeah, that's way too personal."
"I think…." Cuddy started with a smirk, indicating to House that she would say something that was most likely the truth, but he didn't want to come to terms with it. "You're starting to come out of your shell a bit."
"I'm not shy."
"I meant on a personal level. You're starting to open up. And, to answer your concern from earlier… you do have empathy, House. You cared enough about them to teach them something."
"No… I taught them that because-"
"Cut the bullshit." House chuckled at her word choice, rubbing his eye with the palm of his hand. "Go home, House."
"Thanks."
"For what?" He looked at her like he wanted to explain, but he was probably one of the most awkward people Cuddy had ever met when it came to expressing his emotions. She knew he wouldn't explain, so she had to put two and two together. "You're welcome."
While everyone was wrapping up their day, House sat in his office, staring out the window to watch the storm that persisted. He was so focused on fidgeting with the tennis ball and lost in thought that he didn't even hear Wilson enter his office. Wilson watched him for a minute, trying to decide if he was bordering on something or just thinking.
"When are you going to admit you care about your patients?" Wilson questioned, his hands in his pockets as he approached House's desk.
"I never said I didn't," House responded, not taking his eyes away from the storm. "I care for them. Just… not directly. That's what I have my ducklings for."
Wilson chuckled. "So you tell them what to say so you don't have to?"
"Pretty much." He began unconsciously rocking back and forth in his chair, fidgeting with the tennis ball a bit more. "Is that not what you do?"
"Uh… no. As their doctor, I talk to them directly. Maybe you should do that too."
"Nah… then they get all emotional and… loud."
Wilson leaned against the edge of the desk, folding his arms over his chest as he tried to gauge House's expression. He knew that emotions weren't something House could understand very well; in fact, whenever Wilson tried to help him sort his thoughts out, he could safely say that emotions may be almost foreign to House, whether good or bad. As for the loudness… Wilson could understand that; House seemed to be sensitive to loud noises at times, even though he could be extremely loud whenever he decided to be.
"Have you thought about what I said to you the other day?" Wilson continued.
"I don't even remember what you just said to me, so probably not," House joked, looking at him with a slight smirk.
"About ther-"
"No. I don't need it." His joking demeanour quickly turned south as he began tapping his fingers against the tennis ball, his eyes darkening slightly. "Just because I'm not…." He trailed off, not knowing how he was going to say what he wanted to say. "I dunno… normal? I don't need therapy."
"That's not what I'm saying, House. A therapist can help you identify your emotions."
"Ooh. There is one that I'm good at," he started, his tone dripping with sarcasm. Wilson tilted his head to the side, knowing that House's reaction wouldn't be a good one. "Annoyed. I think you're the main cause of it right now. But I'm not good at identifying my emotions, right?"
Wilson let out a sigh, taking that as his cue to go and stop the conversation. He knew this was a sensitive subject for House, but he wanted to at least try to help him out, even if that made him uncomfortable.
"I'm not going to argue with you," Wilson stated, moving away from the desk, "I'm just saying that it's something you should think about."
"Thought about it. The answer is no."
"Alright, fine." He noticed the amount of unopened cigarette packs on your desk from earlier when House was on his bender about not eating. "I'm taking these," he stated, taking the packs to dispose of. "I had a pizza sent to your apartment, so… go home."
House couldn't help but chuckle. "I love you. 'night, Wilson."
"Goodnight, House."