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housethemd · 6 months

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One Life For Another

(What if Amber had been the one to survive the bus crash instead of House? Snapshots of Wilson’s life after House. Wilson/Amber, eventual House/Wilson. Just read and you’ll understand.)

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“Where’s House?”

Amber asks, shortly after her eyes open. Wilson smooths back her hair, thinking she’s just confused, concussed.

“Shh, you were in a bus crash. You’ve been unconscious for nearly 24 hours. You’re going to be okay though.” He reassures her, kissing her forehead.

“Where’s House?” She repeats.

That’s how they find out House was in that crash too. He’d forgotten his wallet at the bar, so he’d been taken to Princeton General as a John Doe. That’s why Wilson only got the call about Amber.

When Wilson gets there, House only has a few hours left. The damage is too extensive. He’d need multiple organ transplants to save him, and he qualifies for none of them because of his addiction. Conceptually, Wilson knows that House would be unlikely to survive regardless.

Amber checks herself out of PPTH AMA, refusing not to be at her boyfriend's side. House is in and out of consciousness, the high doses of Morphine he’s being given make him drowsy.

It’s 3am when House wakes up for the last time. He’s surprisingly lucid, and Wilson knows what that means. He’s seen it time and time again in his patients. It’s like the universe grants them one last chance to say their goodbyes, to make their peace.

“Always knew I’d go first.” House’s voice is rough and quiet. Wilson has to lean in close to hear him.

“Me too, I didn’t think it would be quite so soon though.” Wilson laughs through his tears.

“On the contrary, I think I’ve lived longer than I was supposed to.” House says.

Wilson knows he’s talking about the infarction. He always knew House felt he should have died then, but Wilson always tried to reassure him that it obviously wasn’t his time, and besides, misanthropic bastards are supposed to live forever, aren’t they?

“Oh Greg.” Wilson is starting to shake as he fights the urge to break down.

“S’okay Jimmy.” He soothes.

“Cut throat bitch.” He addresses Amber now.

“Yeah House?” She’s wiping her own tears away, watching someone die is always hard, especially when it’s someone your loved one loves so much.

“Take care of Jimmy for me, okay?”

She finds she can only nod.

They all know it’s time. No one wants to say it, but they all know.

“I love you, Greg.” Wilson says, squeezing House’s hand and leaning close.

“Love you too, Jimmy. You’ve been the bestest friend a fucked up guy like could have asked for.”

Wilson can’t respond through the sobs. House’s eyes are glassy and unfocused. Wilson leans his face on House’s shoulder. His friend is dying.

“See ya, boy wonder.” The words are drawn out and slow, as House says them with his last breaths.

The monitors alarm as House flatlines. Amber rubs circles on Wilson’s back as he sobs loudly into his dead best friend's shoulder.

———————

Wilson gives the eulogy at House’s funeral. It's an open casket. House’s parents had his body dressed in a dark gray suit with a white shirt and a black tie. Wilson hates that they put House in a tie. House always hated ties. They should have put him in a blue shirt, not a white one. He always looked best in blue, it brought out his eyes. Not that you can see his eyes now.

He talks about how House was a healer, how many lives he’d saved that no one else could. How he cared about people, but only when no one was looking. How much he’ll miss, how much he misses him.

He sobs quietly as they lower the casket into the ground. He doesn’t want to make a scene, but if he’s leaning heavily on Foreman, no one says anything about it. Amber never lets go of his hand.

Blythe comes up to him and thanks him, “For being such a good friend to Greg.” He thanks her, tells her that her son was a very special man. He doesn’t know how to tell her that for everything he did for House, House did just as much for him.

——————

A year goes by.

Amber encourages James to talk about House. She knows how important that relationship was to him, and she never wants him to feel as though she’s forgotten. She doesn’t want him to think she expects him to forget.

They buy a house in the suburbs. It has three bedrooms, a large backyard, and a massive living room. It’s perfect for housing a baby grand piano. Despite the fact neither of them can play it, James keeps it.

He kept all of House’s instruments, they were all incredibly important to House and James couldn’t bear to see them go; there was so little that was truly important to House. But while the guitars get put away in cases and stored, James wants the piano displayed. After the movers had left, James just stared at it for a while. Eventually he said,

“He used to play for me when I’d ask. He was quite talented. It was… nice.” Before he went back to unpacking boxes.

Three months after they move into their home, they go out for a night on the town and James gets down on one knee. She says yes, but also says she won’t change her name. No way will she be the fourth Mrs. Wilson.

That night she wakes at 3:30am to an empty bed and the occasional sound of piano keys. She pulls on the shirt James discarded when they tumbled into bed before she creeps just far enough down the stairs to be able to hear him without being seen.

“I missed you a lot today. I asked Amber to marry me. She said yes, but she’s keeping her name. Thinks ‘Mrs. Wilson’ is cursed or something. I know you’d agree with her.”

There is the sound of piano keys being played randomly.

“It won’t be the same. Getting married without you there. I know it’s silly, I’ve done this three times before, but it’s a big day and I wish I could have my best friend by my side.”

Amber creeps back up the stairs. She’s happy James talks to House. She knows his therapist suggested it, and she’s glad to see he’s listening.

——————

Their wedding is small. They end up not doing wedding parties because James can’t bring himself to have anyone but House as his best man. Amber doesn’t mind. At the reception they light a candle “for those who couldn’t be with us” but it’s really just for House.

———————

Eighteen months after their wedding Wilson is standing in one of the PPTH delivery rooms.

“It’s a boy!” The doctor doing the delivery announces.

As Amber dozes that night, Wilson cradles the small bundle that is his son. He looks down at him with awe. The birth certificate sits next to him on the side table, signed by both him and Amber. It reads:

Michael Gregory Wilson-Volkais

He’d been worried about asking Amber to name their son after House. But she’d only smiled at him, and said she thought Gregory made a lovely middle name.

———————-

“Dad, who’s that with you in all the pictures?”

Michael is ten, and they are flipping through a photo album Amber just completed. She insisted they include pictures from before they met, because she was in her mid thirties and he was in his early 40’s when they met, meaning they both had a hell of a lot of life before each other.

“That’s your Uncle Greg.” Wilson answers, as they all stare down at a collage of images of himself and Greg.

“But I thought you only had two brothers, Uncle David and Uncle Danny.” Michael says, confused.

“Greg wasn’t my brother. We met at a medical conference when I was 28, and after that he was my best friend.”

“If he’s your best friend, why haven’t I ever met him?” Michael questions.

Wilson lets out a deep sigh, putting his arm around his son.

“Because he died, Buddy. Before you were born.”

“Oh.” Michael hangs his head, clearly feeling bad. The boy was cursed with his father’s empathy.

“It’s okay. It’s nice to talk about him. Did you know you’re named after him? Your middle name ‘Gregory’ is after your Uncle Greg. Gregory was his full first name.” Wilson tells him.

Michael thinks that’s pretty cool, and they move on to other pictures in the album. That night however, Wilson sits down with a glass of scotch and the album. He sips his drink and reminisces about the moment each picture captures, and all ones that weren’t captured on film.

———————-

At sixty-five Wilson lies in a hospital bed. His wife of twenty-three years is on one side of him, and his twenty-one year old son is on the other. Dying of cancer isn’t how he pictured his life ending, but having family around him makes it somewhat bearable, or maybe that’s the morphine.

He hates to leave his son so early, but that’s the danger of having kids later in life he supposes. Michael is only in his last year of his undergraduate degree - premed. He wants to be an oncologist like his old man. Wilson wonders if watching him die of cancer will change his mind.

He’s said his goodbyes, and slowly light and sound fades away. Strangely, or maybe not, his last thought is not of his wife or son, but of Greg House.

See you soon, old friend.

———————

“Wasn’t expecting to see you for another twenty years at least.”

He recognizes that voice. As he slowly opens his eyes he realizes he recognizes his surroundings too. It’s a forest in upstate New York. He and House used to go backpacking here. They’d spend weekends camped out, cooking everything over their campfire and sleeping side by side in sleeping bags in a two person tent.

He finds the source of the voice seated on a tree stump, and there he is.

“House.” Is the only word he manages.

“In the flesh. Well not really, but you know what I mean.” House smiles and laughs.

He looks like he did the night they met, dark hair and unshaven face. Jeans and a band t-shirt under a leather jacket. Wilson looks down at himself and realizes he’s similarly dressed, his own jeans and McGil sweatshirt. He touches his face and realizes he’s also back to the age he was that night.

“I missed you.” He tells House. It’s true. He didn’t realize how much until right now.

“Come on Jimmy, walk with me.”

House takes him down a narrow path that leads them to a small lake. Wilson remembers it from their camping trips. The only difference is now there is a small cottage next to it.

“So, what have you been up to?” House asks. Like they aren’t dead, like this isn’t some strange afterlife they find themselves occupying.

“Not much. Married Amber. Had a son. Named him Michael Gregory, after you.”

They stare at each other for a moment before bursting out into stomach aching laughter. After they finally stop they wrap their arms around each other in a tight hug. They never hugged much when they were alive, but now it feels right.

“What got you?” House asks softly in his ear.

“Cancer.” Wilson tells him.

“Wow. That’s… ironic.” House says as they pull away.

“Yeah. Yeah it is.”

They make their way into the cottage. House will give him a tour of it, and when the sun begins to set in their version of heaven they’ll lay down together in one bed without question.

In life they never seemed to get things right, and then their time together was cut short.

In death they’ll get it right.

#apparently we are doing sad angst today guys #i promise I’ll give you something happy tomorrow #house md #james wilson #hate crimes md #greg house #hilson #dr house #dr wilson #wilson x house #house/wilson #amber volakis #wilson/amber #house md fanfiction #hilson fanfic #amber/wilson fanfic

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microwavedmetal · 2 months

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Supernatural, Sci-Fi and other cool concepts Hilson fics (part 3)

Research Opportunities by microposting

“I wonder which drug combinations create hallucinations of tiny people.”

“I’m sorry, now you’re implying I’m not real?”

“Sure. It’s late, I took a pill too many, you’re a miniature man stealing single pills for other miniature people.”

House gets curious about a pill thief.

Nobody Lies by lilyleia78

Summary: Written for get_house_laid on livejournal. House ends up on a truth drug and reveals some things not even he knew.

A Better You by daasgrrl

What if you could become a 'better' version of yourself?

Resurrection of the Unspoken word by SrslyNo

A nontraditional love story. How much do House and Wilson love each other?

THE ORACLE by fee_folay

House gets a really bad calling plan. I hesitate to say much more, because I don’t want to lessen the impact of the story. Let’s just say, there is action, angst, adventure, suspense, befuddled Ducklings, classic Cuddy, dying patients, a House thrown off kilter and Wilson mistreatment.

Looking Glass by nightdog_barks and blackmare

Chapters: one two three

House knew they shouldn't have taken that exit.

on the endless fields by effio

have we met, House wants to ask, but he knows that they did and they did not.

or the one in which he has to go back all over again until he gets it right.

Trips, Slips and Dips Down Memory Lane by Harmony_Whisper

What happens when the little boy across the street helps you see that life isn't as miserable as those around you have made it. And when that experience becomes the culmination of something deeper than you or he ever imagined. Fluff, slash later on.

#hilson fic #hilson fanfiction #hilson #house md fanfiction #house md

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amphoterrible · 4 months

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some background information

What am I doing? Why, I'm re-watching House, M.D. as a whole-ass pharmacist and taking meticulous notes!

I’m only going to focus on when House, M.D. gets something about medication just wildly wrong. I’m not going to be like “why are the chest compressions so slow” or “would Chase really be inserting that temporary transcutaneous pacer at the beside wouldn’t they want to do that in the EP lab” or anything else along those lines. I am but a humble pharmacist.

Hydrocodone/acetaminophen (APAP), the U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA), and the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA)

This is going to be interesting because House aired from November 16, 2004 to May 21, 2012 and there are two things that come to mind for me: 1) The U.S. Food and Drug Administration (FDA) asked drug manufacturers to reduce the strength of acetaminophen in combination acetaminophen products to 325 mg in 2011(1) and 2) hydrocodone combination products were still scheduled as schedule III by the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA).(2) Hydrocodone combination products weren’t rescheduled to schedule II until 2014. Schedule III prescriptions are a lot easier to write and fill than schedule II prescriptions. A lot of the legal nuance varies by state and I am not going to read New Jersey pharmacy statutes, thank you very MUCH I barely passed every Multistate Pharmacy Jurisprudence Examination (MPJE) I’ve ever taken. Back to the Vicodin. So how am I going to know exactly what formulation of Vicodin House was consuming?

I really don’t care about the hydrocodone component of it. There is no ceiling to an opioid, it’s whatever the patient can tolerate it. (Well technically there is too much to give but you have to look at if the patient is used to taking opioids or not don’t just slam someone with 10 mg of IV Dilaudid you know what I’m saying.) And if they don’t tolerate it give them some naloxone. And patients with chronic pain can tolerate a lot of opioids. Was Vicodin an appropriate opioid for House? No! But it was less regulated! And the threat of liver failure is dramatic! But Oxycontin would make more sense – Wilson’s an oncologist, he would be prescribing it all the time! Cancer hurts! Antineoplastics hurt! Oxycontin was the most widely abused prescription opioid in the United States in 2004(3), right when House started airing. But no, it’s Vicodin. The writers chose Vicodin for a reason. I’m going to let the art flow over me. We’re sticking with Vicodin. Or, hydrocodone/APAP because Abbott isn’t paying me to do this.

I worked in an independent retail pharmacy my first year of pharmacy school (which was 2010 before I realized I do not have a poker face to deal with the general public and immediately started working in a hospital), and I vaguely remember there being way too many formulations of hydrocodone/APAP. Hydrocodone/APAP has a few brand names: Vicodin, Norco, and Lortab. I usually say Norco because it’s the easiest. (I actually say hydrocodone/acetaminophen because I’m an asshole.) I found this email(4) sent by Abbott in October 2012 that discussed the newly reformulated Vicodin®, Vicodin ES®, and Vicodin HP®, which is handy since it lists the old formulations too:

Vicodin®

Hydrocodone 5 mg/acetaminophen 500 mg

Vicodin ES®

Hydrocodone 7.5 mg/acetaminophen 750 mg

Vicodin HP®

Hydrocodone 10 mg/acetaminophen 660 mg

Who the fuck puts 750 mg of acetaminophen in one tablet? That limits the patient to five tablets in 24 hours. We’ve known the maximum dose of acetaminophen is 4000 mg since the 1970s. What the fuck, Abbott.

(Matthew Mercer Voice) How Do You Want To Do This?

So, like, I guess I’ll just count the tablets I see House consuming and then calculate the total daily dose of acetaminophen for each Vicodin formulation? I feel like I can do total acetaminophen dosage based on episodes versus trying to keep track of the days. The timeline of this show is wonky and like once you hit the toxic dose you’re there so? Also, sometimes he takes more than one and it’s hard to hear the tablets like, clink against his teeth or whatever. Sparkle on! We’ll do our best. I was going to put this in an Excel spreadsheet but I just remembered I am a pharmacist and I cannot function in Excel.

Let’s talk about the mechanism of liver toxicity and treatment of acetaminophen overdose if we hit significant toxicity. Wouldn’t it be funny if we didn’t?? That would result in me rambling about House M.D. for pages and pages and he doesn’t even get hypothetical liver failure. Is this fanfiction? Am I writing really weird fanfiction? Anyways significant toxicity occurs if you hit 150 mg/kg of acetaminophen.(5) How much does Gregory House weigh?? Let’s give him a range: 160-180 pounds (73-82 kg). Fairly average, actually. So House’s toxic dose of acetaminophen is likely 10,950 mg to 12,300 mg. Let’s say lower range is 22 tablets of Vicodin®, 15 tablets of Vicodin ES®, 17 tablets of Vicodin HP® and the upper range is 25 tablets of Vicodin®, 17 tablets of Vicodin ES®, and 19 tablets of Vicodin HP®.

References

Department of Health and Human Services. Food and Drug Administration. Prescription drug products containing acetaminophen; actions to reduce liver injury from unintentional overdose. Federal Register. 2011;76(10):2691-2697.

Seago S, Hayek A, Pruszynski J, Newman MG. Change in prescription habits after federal rescheduling of hydrocodone combination products. Proc (Bayl Univ Med Cent). 2016; 29:268-270.

Zee AV. The promotion of marketing of OxyContin: commercial triumph, public health tragedy. Am J Public Health. 2009;99:221-227.

Abbott. Newly reformulated Vicodin® launch announcement. https://www.uspharmacist.com/email/ecf1248.html. Accessed January 8, 2024.

Hendrickson RG. Acetaminophen. In: Nelson LS, Howland M, Lewin NA, Smith SW, Goldfrank LR, Hoffman RS, eds. Goldfrank's Toxicologic Emergencies, 11e. McGraw-Hill; 2019:486-499.

#house md #hate crimes md #house rewatch 2024 #I'm halfway through season 1 this is going to take A Bit #so please bear with me #but here's some background ramblings #I'll make a pinned post and have links to each season #so I am ~*~organized~*~

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the-timeless-one · 1 year

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Okay, i don't know if anyone thought about this before, but I had an idea about a crossover of Dead poets society and House

So, Neil survives his "little accident", but he loses almost all his memories. His father establish that he is dead and then he decided to move to another part of the US and start all over again.

Neil (now Wilson) ends up doing med school and working in Princeton-Plainsboro.

Meanwhile, our precious Todd becomes a famous writer and during the presentation of his new book in New Jersey, something medically weird happens to him and he's taken to Neil's (now Wilson) hospital.

There, House starts doing his job, throwing possible diagnosis. And cancer comes up as a possibility. And he asks Wilson to check the patient.

And Todd and Neil seem familiar to each other, but, one has amnesia and the other one thinks that it can be possible, because Neil died

So, yeah, past lovers with amnesia

And House going around trying to figure out what it's happening with Wilson and this new patient

(if this has been already done, drop the link, because I need to read it)

#fanfic ideas #writing #dead poets society #house md #anderperry

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catofadifferentcolor · 14 hours

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House (2004): Season One

I don't ask why patients lie, I just assume they all do.

House is one of those shows I never watched when it was originally on air, as is the case with most television from the early 2000s for a variety of reasons. I ended up binge watching it thru Netflix when it Netflix still did DVDs by mail, and never picked it up again after the DVDs ran out somewhere around season five.

Yet, when I started to see a bunch of House gifs on my dash, I inexplicably decided to have the first season running in the background while I did other things.

And my first thought is: I have no idea how the show caught on. The first episode is not really that good, and I absolutely loathe the cold openings they do for the patients - because, truth be told, I could care less about the patients or the diagnosis. House, like all medical dramas, works best when the medicine serves as a vehicle for character development for the main cast.

And it does that to some degree, but I sometimes find myself baffled by the conversational turns the characters take. Watching Cameron twist herself into knots over her one-sided relationship with House himself is painful at best and embarrassing at worst, largely because I just don't feel it. I can easily imagine why someone might fall for their emotionally distant older mentor, but I can't quite believe a successful young doctor would arrange her career around it, especially with so much negative reception. Their relationship exists all in her head, yet she proceeds as if it was ever once reciprocated. I find myself equally baffled by Wilson, who in the second half of the season takes the slightest thing House says as a sign that House is in love with Cameron - though admittedly that probably says more about Wilson's relationship issues.

To tell the truth, I find myself appreciating Chase most this time around, mostly because he does his job with whining over much about it - which probably says more about me than it does anything else. He is a good, competent doctor who knows when to stand up and when to let both ego and morals slide, or at the very least accepted that neither will make any difference to his employer so why bother when he'll only be overruled anyway.

My point being: the first season of this show is not actually that good. There's something to be said for the originality of an unlikable main lead for the time, but otherwise it's your standard TV fare of forced relationship drama. Perspective also has a large part to do with this - it's hard to be shocked by anything House does when H50 had the characters chasing down helicopters and invading North Korea on a weekly basis.

That's not to say there aren't good episodes. "Three Stories" is possibly the best of the season, and it's penultimate position does a lot for the series that it would not have done if we'd been info dumped everything about House's injury at the onset. It puts events in perspective. It makes things make sense. It works - in contrast to nearly all of the Vogler episodes, which don't, as they seem to exist only to create needless tension between the team and has exactly zero repercussions for the rest of the show.

Yet the fact remains its been well over a decade since I watched this show (or really even thought about it) and it probably will be again. If my time off hadn't come right at the moment my dash was randomly filling with House, I probably wouldn't have even done that. There is something solid to the first season, but nothing that particularly draws me in. It is amusing, but doesn't take up residence in my brain. I have no real problems with it, but no real loves either.

In short, it's not bad, but there are better. There are also worse. It exists, but beyond wanting to know why it's taken over my dash all of a sudden I've no strong feelings about it. 3 out of 5.

#house md #aadarshinah watches #tv review #season 1 #season review #television review #show review #review

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get-infectious · 4 months

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Young, Dumb, and Broken: Chapter 2 - First Case

Chapter 1,

Read: AO3 FFN Quotev Wattpad

Summary: **Alternative Universe Fic** Twenty-Six-year-old Gregory House is a medical genius who now has a new team of diagnosticians to lead. It’s difficult to run a department when nobody understands how someone so young moved up so quickly.

Chapter Tags: N/A

Keep Reading to read chapter

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."

#ao3 #fanfic #house md #young!house au #my au #my writing #fanfiction #Young Dumb and Broken AU #Young Dumb and Broken Main Fic

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snezario · 3 years

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the first fic i ever wrote... it’s on the forum somewhere but i tried to clean it up a bit

Ho//us/e MD; Ja/me//s Wils//on

House limped by Wilson’s dark office for a third time. Strange, he thought, normally Wilson would be in by now. He could typically hear Wilson caring from a mile away, but today was different. Not that House really cared but he thought it would be better for him to check in anyways.

He strode, to the best of his ability, to Wilson’s door and opened the door with a BANG. House stumbled upon a surprising scene; Wilson was curled up on his couch with the blinds closed. The oncologist woke up with a start, cringing away from the light and shielding his eyes.

“I need another refill on the good stuff,” House announced self-importantly.

“You could have knocked.” Wilson snapped irritably as he pulled himself up to a sitting position. He brought his hands up to his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. House narrowed eyes, noticing that Wilson’s voice sounded rougher than usual.

“Why were you sleeping here? Is your bed not comfortable enough?”

“I’m tired. I had a late night,” Wilson responded quickly, too quickly in House’s opinion. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion, choosing not to say anything.

“Here let me write you up a refill,” Wilson deflected, walking over to his desk and pulling out his prescription pad.

Hmm… odd, Wilson giving him drugs without any questions asked. He also avoided answering House’s questions, meaning he wanted House out of his hair. Taking a closer look, House noticed that Wilson had dark circles under his eye and an unusually pallor appearance. He also seemed to be suffering from a headache because he was squinting as he wrote the script.

“Here,” Wilson ripped off the paper, holding it out to House without looking at him. House grabbed the slip but continued to look at his friend with narrowed eyes. Realizing that House hadn’t moved an inch, Wilson looked up from his desk. “Don’t you have a case?”

“Jeez Jimmy, if you don’t want me around just say so.” House pouted. Wilson ignored his comment, simply waving House out the door.

After House left, Wilson closed the door and slumped into his chair, groaning. That morning he had woken up feeling exhausted and, along with a sore throat, headache, and runny rose. He had taken a nap to try and relieve the exhaustion and pounding headache. At least he didn’t have patients to deal with today, just paperwork and clinic duty. His thoughts were interrupted by a strong tickling sensation in his sinuses.

“Heh’ISHHH! heh..heh’ESHH!”

Wilson grabbed a tissue and began to blow his nose, when the balcony door slammed open with a tall figure with a cane standing in the doorway.

“AH-HA! I knew you were hiding something!” House said triumphantly while brandishing his cane.

Wilson opened his mouth to reply, except that he felt another tickle building up. “Ihht’s nothhh–ing.” He denied, quickly grabbing a tissue when he realized he couldn’t fight it any longer. He brought the tissue up to his face, as his breath caught. He jerked forward, barely missing the corner of his desk.

“Heh’etshh! iTSH’uu!”

“Bless,” House smirked. Wilson tried to sniffle discreetly but House waved his hand dismissively, “I don’t care if you blow your nose.”

Wilson grabbed a tissue sheepishly, blowing his nose as quietly as possible. House couldn’t tell whether the color rising in the oncologist’s cheeks was due to a developing fever or embarrassment, probably both. He looked his friend up and down. “You need to go home. You can’t be around infecting your little immunocompromised patients, let alone me.”

“You always have to make it about y-you–” Wilson’s voice wavered on the last word and he barely had enough time to direct a sneeze into the crook of his arm.

“Well, taking you home could get me out of clinic duty, so help me help you. It’s a win-win,” House continued, looking expectantly at his friend.

“I’m not going to be a part of your plan to get out of clinic duty. Now get out of my office so I can finish working.” Wilson responded sternly, although his tone was undermined by the congestion. He brought another tissue up to his face, pointing to the balcony door with his free hand.

“Well aren’t you just a ray of sunshine when you’re sick.” House remarked but opened the door to cross the patio back over to his office, giving a slight backwards glance at Wilson before entering the diagnostics office.

As House limped back into Diagnostics, Chase, Cameron, and Foreman looked up expectantly at him. “What are you guys staring at? Don’t you have work to do?” House snapped.

Chase raised his eyebrows. “We don’t have a case.”

“Well, get me one so you can stop being so useless.” House said as he limped to his personal office. Foreman rolled his eyes but got up and walked out, Chase following suit. Cameron began to trail after, until House leaned back into the conference room and whispered to get her attention.

“Whff! Psst, psst! Whaa! Phfffft!”

Cameron rolled her eyes but proceeded to enter his office. She glared at him her arms crossed across her chest. “What?” She snapped.

“Wilson’s sick.” Cameron’s expression immediately softened.

“Ugh your pathetic sympathy and caring is already suffocating my office. I already tried to get Wilson to go home, but he won’t listen to me. I thought he might listen to an equally warm and cuddly person.”

An unexpected soft knock on Wilson’s door made him jump. “Come–” He cringed at the congested pronunciation and cleared his throat, “Come in.”

Cameron opened the door, with steaming disposable coffee cup in her hand. “I heard you weren’t feeling too hot.” She said placing the cup on his desk, careful to avoid spilling any on him. Wilson blinked at her in surprise. He was used to taking care of others, rarely being on the receiving end. “Er... Thanks.”

Cameron took note of his overall disheveled appearance, gazing at him in concern. “You should go home and rest.”

Wilson took a sip of the tea and let out a pleasured sigh as the contents soothed his aching throat. He really hadn’t been taking care of himself other than popping an acetaminophen that morning. He eagerly took a slightly larger sip.

Setting down the cup, he waved his hand dismissively. “It’s really not serious, I can hh-handle—” Wilson hastily grabbed a tissue, embarrassed that Cameron had to witness him sneezing. He brought the fabric to his nose as breath hitched and the itch crested.

“Heh’tCHUu! Het’iSHH! Sorry, really I can handle it,” he assured her. Unfortunately for him, he felt another sneeze coming on. He rubbed the back of his hand against his nose, trying to alleviate the tickle. However, it had the opposite effect that he had been hoping for, instead coaxing out another sneeze. “Heh..eeh’hhTSHH!”

“Bless you, Dr. Wilson,” Cameron murmured sympathetically.

He nodded his thanks before pulling out a couple more tissues. Wilson sighed and blew his pink, tender nose for what felt like the 20th time. Taking another sip from the tea, he looked over at Cameron curiously.

“Don’t you have a case?”

“Foreman and Chase are trying to track one down. I just wanted to check on you.”

“Thanks for your concern, but it’s not really necessary. I’m fine.” He reassured her. Before he could say anything else Cameron placed the back of her hand to Wilson’s forehead, checking his temperature. She jerked back almost instantly after her skin made contact with his.

“Wilson! You’re burning up!”

However, he was having trouble responding to her immediately because the room started to spin slightly. Wilson’s vision began to blur on the edges and his brow furrowed in bewilderment. Cameron noticed his confused expression.

“Wilson? Wilson? Are you okay? What’s wrong?” She asked urgently, putting a gentle hand on his forearm.

“I… don’t know,” Wilson’s words slurred together. “I feel… funny?”

As Wilson’s head dropped sharply, Cameron reached out and caught his head before it hit his desk.

“Sorry Wilson.” Cameron whispered guiltily.

Wilson’s tickling nose woke him up and he searched around for a tissue, when he noticed that he was wrapped up in a ton of comforters and blankets in his bed. Last thing he remembered was being in his office… He looked around and spotted House with reading glasses on the crook of his nose, who looked up from his magazine.

“Good morning sunshine,” he said cheerily.

Wilson glared at him. “House,” he said warningly.

“You wouldn’t listen to me,” House shrugged, “At least it wasn’t amphetamines this time.”

Wilson continued to give House a dirty look until his breath began to hitch.

“Heh...”

“Bless,” House said offhandedly, not looking up from the magazine. Wilson noticed that the magazine was actually upside down, before his eyes snapped shut. Leave it to House to put on an act.

“Heh’ISHHH! Heh’iTSHuu!” Wilson groaned, flopping back in the bed.

House glanced at him. “Your fever was high, we almost checked you in. Luckily I found some ibuprofen and it brought it down a bit. It’s still on the higher side, but manageable.”

As Wilson got up, House asked him, “So what do you want to do now? We could watch old movies on the couch or watch old reruns of Friends.”

“House, I just want to be left alone right now. Don't you have to work anyways?”

“Nope, Cuddy let me off so I could make sure you could actually rest.” House replied brightly. Wilson sniffled, pulling a pair of slacks and searching for a tie in the closet.

“That doesn’t look like resting to me.” House noted, eyeing Wilson.

“I’m going to work House. I can’t believe you dragged me into your power play.”

“You can’t go back to work oh Wonder Boy. You’ll infect the entire hospital. I thought you were the ethical one.”

“I’m leaving.” Wilson snapped brusquely. However, as he began to walk to the door, he was overcome by a bout of coughing and dizziness. House grabbed his arm firmly and steered him to the couch. “Woah there Jimmy, not so fast. You’re not going anywhere. Do you want me to drug you again?”

House handed Wilson a box of tissues and a pleasantly warm mug of tea with honey. Wilson accepted the tea, but continued to look at House through narrowed eyes. The warmth of it in his hands was comforting, but not enough to dissuade him completely.

“Is this part of your plot to overthrow Cuddy? Will I have to deal with the horsemen and the rain of fire and the end of days?” He asked suspiciously.

House snorted. “Don’t be so paranoid.”

Wilson gingerly sipped the tea, letting out a content sigh. The warm liquid soothed his throat and the steam acted as a mild decongestant. He stretched back comfortably on the couch. House settled into the armchair next to him and flipped the TV on to some sitcom re-run. They sat together in silence for a while, with only the sound of Wilson’s occasional sniffles. Wilson eventually began to nod off and began snoring lightly. House turned the TV off and glanced at the peaceful sleeping Wilson before covering him with a fleece blanket.

#it's mostly cleaned up but i got lazy #i wouldn't say that i'm the best writer but it definitely used to be a lot worse #fiendwriting

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sxveme-2 · 3 years

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blueberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

Description: A single mother. Juggling being a mom, a full time pediatrician, and a difficult ex who believed now would be the best time to finally be a father. A soldier ripped out of time. Ex-assassin turned superhero. Learning how to balance a new domestic life with handling demons of his past, while facing the trials of the future. a love story began over something as simple as chocolate chip pancakes with hidden blueberries.

Disclaimer: I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

Status: Edited

Note: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Fifteen: The One Where There Might be a Future

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 3247

Lily didn't like the effect Bucky had on her sometimes. She wasn't sure if it was the way he was so good with Hunter, or how he was always so gentle with her. Or maybe it's whenever the two were alone he looked at her like she was the only girl in the world. Or perhaps it was the way his hands always lingered places for a second too long to go unnoticed. She couldn't place it. But if anyone asked how she felt about the boy, she brushed it off. They were simply friends. Nothing more. The kiss they shared in the kitchen didn't get spoken about, and the two never felt a shred of awkwardness over the following few weeks.

But it didn't help that his lingering looks and her soft touches didn't go unnoticed by those around them for very long. Lily had found herself living every teenage girl’s dream. She became friends with the freaking Avengers. It didn't help that her sister had begun to get all friendly with Mr. Sam Wilson, either. She wasn't sure if it was because of her lack of love from her ex, or the need for a rebound. But Lily would be there to support her along the way, no matter what form her heartbreak and hormones took.

And although things were great in Lily's social department, the legality of her divorce had become messy. It had been a month since the incident where Cedar supposedly attempted to break into her ex-husband’s house, leaving Lily with the entire month of October being filled with legal battles and a complete rewrite of the separation agreement. All while the police continued to question her younger brother. She wanted to keep that part of the issue secret from Hunter, for the little boy looked up to his uncle as though he were one of the superheroes on the boy’s wall. And Lily did truly believe her brother was not behind this, that something must have happened to him. She knew Cedar, he wouldn't have done this.

However, to distract herself, Lily decided to hand-make her and Hunter's costume for the holiday quickly approaching. As well as busying herself with shopping for Hunter's birthday, which was just a week after Halloween. however, in proper Rose and Gen fashion, they had other plans for the candy-filled day.

"I am not going to a Halloween party with the Avengers!" Lily exclaimed as she spun around from her sewing machine, arms crossed, "And I am not matching with Bucky."

"Come on Lily!" Rose whined, grabbing her sister’s hand, "You've been stressed to the high heavens all month! With finally being granted full custody, as well as this Cedar thing? You deserve to go out and have some fun."

"And Bucky tells us he's had to make you dinner every night when he comes over. And don't act surprised that we know- you send Rose out every Thursday and Saturday. We're not stupid." Gen countered, raising her finger to Lily.

"He talks too much," Lily mumbled, "But I wouldn't be able to anyway! Hunter and I have traditions to keep up. We match costumes, then go out trick or treating, then come home, watch Halloweentown and then go to bed." she stated, stealing her hand back from her sister, "plus Rose, you're pregnant!"

Lily furrowed her eyebrows as she watched her sister and best friend share a look. One that the mother knew all too well. They had planned something. And what that was? Well, Lily didn't know. All she knew is that she wouldn't like it. She never enjoyed their plans. The last time she went through with one, she ended up racing home and having to take her husband to court because of the neglect of their child. Plus, she'd much prefer to stay home and spend time with her son. After the month she had, she just wanted a night in with the two of them.

"We figured you'd say no..." Rose began, flicking her hazel eyes to Gen.

"...So we came up with a backup plan. That was actually, Hunter's idea." Gen smiled softly, offering her hand to her best friend, "Come with us and he'll explain."

Lily cocked her eyebrow at the two of them. Standing, the blonde laced her hand into Gen's and was soon led out into her own living room where Hunter sat on the floor with Joey watching national geographic. Lily smiled softly at the boy before she was essentially forced into sitting on their sofa, with both Rose and Gen coaxing Hunter to explain whatever they had decided to try and convince Lily on.

"Mum, what if Mr. Barnes joined us for Halloween this year?" the boy commented, turning off the television and turning towards his mother.

Lily was taken aback by her son’s bold offer. Glancing back and forth at the two women on either side of her, only to be greeted with raised hands of innocence. Moving onto the floor, Lily took her son’s hands into her own, searching his face for any sort of blackmail being used by the two girls behind her. But he seemed genuine. She knew this because there was a rosy hue to his cheeks, meaning he was even embarrassed to ask her something like that.

"Are you sure, Hunt? It's always just been us on Halloween." Lily hummed, running a thumb across the boy’s cheek.

"Mum if I didn't want to I wouldn't have asked. I like Mr. Barnes. He's fun." Hunter stated simply, tilting his head into his mother’s touch.

"If that's what you want buddy, then sure. We can have Bucky here for Halloween." Lily agreed, ruffling the boy’s hair before standing up and turning towards her sister and best friend, "I'm guessing you already asked him?"

When the two gave energetic nods, the young mother shook her head with a laugh, making her way back out towards her office to finish the costumes.

-----

Lily still lived in the real world. And held a full-time job. As did Rose and Gen. Which meant, there was no one to watch Hunter on the actual day of Halloween while Lily worked. well, that's what she thought at first. But of course, who were Rose and Gen to let anything peaceful happen in the life of their best friend and sister. Though Lily was far from bold enough to make such a request, she didn't have much of a choice. Plus, he was already spending the evening with them. Lily still hadn't enough trust in babysitters, despite having a plethora of neighbours whom she did trust...she just trusted him a bit more.

"Thank you for coming on short notice." the blonde sighed softly as she opened up the door to her house, "Gen has a meeting today and Rose is in upper manhattan, so neither were available."

"It's no issue, Lily," Bucky's gruff morning tone cooed as he took a step into the house, "I like the kid, no stress. Sam and Steve may swing by around noon, mind if I bring Hunt with us out for some lunch?"

"That would be amazing, Buck." she hummed, not even giving the nickname a second thought, though her cheeks did subconsciously heat up, "Here." the blonde smiled, digging her hands into her purse, only to have his flesh hand rest on the arm of her thin white cardigan.

"No need. It's my treat." the man smiled, his hand lingering across her wrist before he pulled it away.

The way that he looked at her made Lily's heart skip a beat. His steel-blue eyes pouring into the mossy green of her own. All of the air in the foyer seemed to be sucked out, as though the world paused around her. Neither moved, and the world melted away. It was Hunter who had managed to snap the two out of it. The sound of a glass breaking against hardwood made Lily jump, her hand resting above the pale purple scrubs she wore, gripping her name tag.

Glancing at her watch, Lily sighed, dropping her bag, "I'll go clean that up then head to wo- "

"Let me." Bucky hummed, picking the woman's bag back up, "You head into work. I'll take care of the kid and the mess, I promise."

With one more glance towards the kitchen, Lily nodded slowly before bidding her goodbyes. When she got into the car in her driveway, the blonde let out a deep sigh. Her eyes glanced up to the door of the place she called home for a few years now. She spotted Bucky and Hunter standing in the doorframe, Hunter still in his pyjamas with a new cup of orange juice in his hand. Bucky's hand placed securely on the boy’s shoulder. The picture warmed Lily's heart, and she found her mind wandering ever so slightly.

The same scene, but with Lily standing there. A baby in her arms as Bucky placed a kiss on her temple. Hunter, aged up a few years with Joey by his side. But this image found itself framed, upon the wall of a different home.

Chiding herself, Lily shook her head, reversing from out front of the home. Away from the moment that made her heart swell.

-----

Another day, Another pay. Don't be mistaken, Lily loved her job. She adored being able to spend the day with children and make them feel better. But today was a rough one. Lily had a patient come in with severe symptoms. It broke Lily's heart. He looked around the same age as her son, and that was what she always found most difficult. Seeing the children that were experiencing the same sort of year as her son. Just turning twelve or not even quite there yet. It broke her heart, really.

Pushing the door open to her quaint home, Lily perked an eyebrow up at the smell of something sweet. That of a certain morning breakfast that seemed to be a reoccurring theme in the most recent months of Lily's life. A small smile spread across her lips as she placed her work bag down onto the front bench, kicking off her shoes before passing the stairs and through the hall back to the kitchen where she ducked around the corner, leaning on the wall.

"Well now what do we have here?" she chuckled, catching the two boy's attention.

Sliding her phone from her pocket, the blonde snapped a photo of the mess of a kitchen the two had made. Both had flour on their face, and the mother of the younger boy giggled. The number of blueberries that were on the floor, or should she say, making their way into Joey's stomach, was more than she saw in the bit of batter the two had made.

"We wanted to surprise you." Hunter grinned brightly, lifting his hands in a stance of innocence, "It was Bucky's idea!"

"Hey-! Way to through me under the bus buddy." the taller man laughed, hands dropping to tickle at the blonde boy's sides.

Lily shook her head with a hearty chuckle escaping her lips. Running a hand through her golden strands, the young mom sauntered forward and pressed a kiss to Hunter's head, before giving Bucky a soft glance. Shrugging off her cardigan, the doctor sent a teasing eyebrow raise to the two boys. Tossing the piece of fabric across one of the chairs at the table, the blonde shooed both away from the counter.

"Before you blow up my kitchen," she quipped, "Allow me to take over."

One brand new batch of batter and a new pack of blueberries later, Lily placed a large stack of fluffy pancakes atop the refurnished birch table that Bucky and Hunter sat at. Placing her hands on her waist, Lily merely smirked and shrugged the entire event off as though it were nothing. The main thing that made her happy on the inside, however, was watching the two dig into the golden brown delicacies she had made moments ago.

"Sit and eat, Lil. They're amazing," said Bucky, a mouthful of blueberry pancake muffling most of his words.

"Alright alright. Then we have to get ready to go out. don't want it to be too dark." Lily chuckled, pulling out a chair next to Bucky.

With dishes and the kitchen cleaned, the trio found themselves all dressed and ready to go for the Halloween festivities taking place outside of the home. Kids were already knocking on doors and stuffing their faces with candy. While Hunter was still trying to get the bandana we wore to properly stay on his head, or actually tie it. Hunter and Lily had already planned on taking on Halloween dressed as pirates, and Bucky just happened to have the proper rugged look for it.

Lily herself, well she wore quite the getup. The ripped fabric of white, burgundy, and plaid making up a skirt that hugged her waist. A white peasant blouse that hugged off of her shoulders sat underneath a black leather corset vest that dipped just below her chest. A pirate hat with gold trim and a peacock feather sat atop gentle blonde curls. Suede boots hit just below her knee with fishnet tights underneath. Bucky wore a fairly standard get-up, simple black pants with a loose cream-coloured top underneath a suede vest and taller boots.

"Mum I can't get my bandana tied!" Hunter sighed, dropping his hands against his own dark pants, "Can you do it?"

Lily grinned and made her way over to the boy, doing up the piece of fabric before handing him a pillowcase for the candy he'd be collecting. Turning to glance over her shoulder, the blonde caught the eyes of Bucky. His eyes were already glued to her, and the way they moved up and down her made a bright red flush fill the girl’s pale cheeks. She pursed her lips and let her hands fall to Hunter's shoulders, her eyes unwavering from those cool blue ones of Buckys.

"If you two are done staring into each other’s eyes," Hunter quipped, "I have candy to collect."

"Hunter!" Lily exclaimed, looking down at her boy.

"Yeah doll," Bucky winked, "Keep focused. The kid's gotta get his candy."

Lily watched in shock as the two walked out the door, leaving the blonde dumbfounded as she hooked Joey's leash onto his collar. Rolling her eyes, the blonde followed behind, shaking her head until she caught up to the two.

-----

"I didn't mean to make the kid freak out!" Bucky laughed as the three re-entered the house, "It's not like I'm in a mask! Plus the arm doesn't help give away who I am."

"Oh, please you totally knew he recognized you!" Lily retorted, unhooking Joey, "You kept rolling your sleeve up whenever we saw him!"

"I'm with mom on this one." Hunter commented, dumping the large stash of candy he had collected into the middle of the living room floor, "I think you liked seeing Kellin dressed as you, Bucky." he chuckled, sorting through the pile.

"Well obviously!" the man chuckled, sliding his vest off, "I think what shocked me most was the number of people dressed up like Sam. We can keep the information here. It'll only make his head inflate even more."

The trio continued the night, laughing, eating candy, and watching the iconic Halloweentown. At around ten-thirty, Lily put the young boy to bed, leaving her alone with the ex-assassin that was sitting in her living room. Which she didn't mind, she'd begun to see yet another new side to Bucky. One that made her realize just how much the man yearned for the security and domesticity of a family. And how Lily wished to give that to him. To lay that troubled mind of his to rest at last, and allow him the peace and tranquillity of a modern day family. And for a while, she believed the two had that. That night. He now changed into a t-shirt and sweats he had left at the house last time, Lily in a pair of baby blue plaid pyjama pants and an oversized white sweater. Both sipping lightly on coffee while they sat across from one another, legs touching.

"You've got something good going here, doll." the man hummed, eyes averting towards the fire at the other side of the room, "Back in the ‘40s this is something I believed I'd have one day."

Lily watched the man with a soft expression. The way his eyes seemed to cloud with troubles when he began talking. It broke her heart, knowing that this sweet and gentle man had been through more than Lily could ever fathom. He had murders attached to his name, yet he petted Joey like he would break the dog, and acted as though Hunter was the most precious thing in the world. And when he would touch Lily, her hand, her wrist, it was though she were made of glass. He was sensitive, and Lily's heart grew ten sizes whenever she saw him allow his guard down, even for a split second. Allowing her to peak into that complex mind of his.

"Why can't you have it now?" Lily questioned, "Find a nice girl. Settle down somewhere quiet. Have a family. Why is it so different now?"

The man turned his attention back to that of the woman sat beside him, "That wouldn't be fair to them. The kids...if I had them. The past I have would follow them everywhere, they'd learn about what I did in class. I was a monster, Lily."

Setting her mug to the side, Lily moved a bit closer to the taller man. She took his coffee from his hands and placed it to the side. She wasn't sure what came over her. Her mind believed it to be that of her having such a lovely night with him. Watching him with Hunter. Seeing the way he would look at her. She wasn't sure. She just knew he felt something back towards her. Maybe the kiss they shared was what drove her, but she just knew this was her window.

So she took his face in her hands, "Buck you had no choice. And now? You're one of the most loved heroes. You beat the darkness. I give stickers out of you at work now!" she chuckled, running a careful thumb across his jawline, "I know if I was the girl you settled with, there would be no fear of having a family."

Bucky looked at the girl with a tender look in his steel eyes. His hand reached up and tucked a stray hair of blonde hair behind her ear, moving forward. The air in the room grew thick and a sense of anxiety washed over Lily. She watched intently as he continued his advance forward. Before she could comprehend it, the two shared their second kiss. This one was different though. There was something new behind it. Lily couldn't put her finger on it. But they didn't break apart, no, they moulded together and paused for air every so often. Lily tangled her fingers in the man’s long brown hair, tugging gently.

But a knock at the door interrupted them.

"We'll talk about what you said tomorrow, okay doll?" Bucky cooed, running a thumb across the girl’s cheekbone, "You stay here. I'll grab the door."

Well, that was how Bucky Barnes met Lily Osborne's parents.

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dilfhanni · 4 years

Text

You’re the newest member on the team

“No.” He turned his back to Cuddy and faced the team again, an expectant look on his face as he waited for ideas to come from their opened mouths.

“This isn’t up for debate, House. I need new eyes on you, and she could be useful to this hospital. She’s not going anywhere.” With that, Cuddy left his outer office, leaving you to stand awkwardly in the doorway and stare at the board of symptoms. You were trying to avoid eye contact until the tension in the room died down, and you figured you should make yourself useful so you didn’t get fired.

“Do you have a name or am I gonna have to ask Cuddy?” You took that as a sign to look over at House and instead of telling him your name – which Cuddy had already told him, but you figured he wasn’t paying attention – you blurted out the diagnosis you had been thinking of.

“Leukemia.” You didn’t realize you hadn’t given him your name until he began to make a joke at your expense.

“That’s funny you say that, because I have an uncle with the same name. It’s such a small world.” He took a step forward and stared down at you, sensing your nerves. You looked back at him and raised your eyebrow, squaring your shoulders a bit.

“No, leukemia. Your patient.” You took a step around him and walked towards the board, looking over the symptoms once again. A voice from one of the people at the table spoke up.

“Doesn’t fit, we already tested her.” You turned to look at them and found a shorter man looking at you with annoyance written all over his face. “I’m sorry, but if she’s gonna come in and start walking around like she has all the answers can she at least be right?”

“I am right. It’s leukemia. You tested the wrong places.” You glanced at House and he seemed to be thinking. He nodded for a moment before looking at the four sitting around the table.

“Look in her brain. You come with me.” He pointed at you with his cane before walking into his office. You looked at the four other doctors in the room but found them walking out already. Sighing, you followed him into his office, expecting to be fired for stepping on someone’s toes already. He was reclining back in his chair and looking up at you, smirking slightly and tilting his head to the side.

“Did someone tell you to say that? Or did you come up with that on your own?” You scrunched your eyebrows together in confusion and came forward, sitting down in the chair in front of his desk.

“I came up with it. It was easy, I’m sorry if that was a problem? Look, I know sometimes it’s hard to have someone around that does shit like that but either accept it and keep me or tell me why you’re so offended and fire me.” You clasped your hands together on your lap and sat back, watching him for what was going to be the next firing of your career.

“Good. Keep doing it and I think we’ll get along just fine. I don’t fire people for coming up with good ideas, I fire them for not having any at all. Are you ever going to tell me your name, or am I going to have to call you leukemia?” You let out a small breath you didn’t know you were holding and laughed a little, shaking your head.

“It’s (Y/N). I have a feeling leukemia is already taken by somebody on the oncology ward.” You stood and bit down on your bottom lip, glancing down at him. “I don’t really know what I’m supposed to do. Five people to test someone for leukemia seems… excessive.”

“You can cover my clinic hours.” He turned towards his computer and started typing away, not paying you any attention anymore. You nodded and turned to leave his office, a cough stopping you in your tracks. You rolled your eyes before turning back around and raising your eyebrow in a silent, “what?”

“You’d go do what I say, just like that? Interesting. Why would you give me that little speech about accept it or fire you if you’re just gonna let me walk all over you anyway?” You opened your mouth as if to say something, but no words came out. Finally, you found your voice.

“I thought I was getting fired and that I’d never have to see you again. Do you frequently play games with people or am I special? Don’t answer that. I’m going to find something fun to occupy my time with, you can ask one of your other minions to cover your clinic hours.” You turned and exited his office, nearly bumping into someone about to go into House’s office.

Wilson watched you walk down the hall and turned his head back towards House, who had a look of awe on his face and Wilson couldn’t help the confusion that overcame him.

“What did you do to her? Is she one of the new residents? I thought they weren’t coming until fall.” Wilson took a seat in the recliner and propped his feet up on the ottoman.

“She’s the newest member of the team. Cuddy’s newest prodigy. She’s feisty and she has ideas. I don’t think she’s bad.” House avoided eye contact by turning to his computer and pretending to get back to work, typing randomly and clicking at the same things over and over. Wilson sat up a bit straighter and his eyebrows pulled together as he processed what House said.

“You don’t think she’s bad means that she doesn’t just have ideas. She has good ideas.” Wilson was starting to get that look on his face and House took a glance at him. He didn’t like what he was seeing. He took that as an opportunity to get up and make an exit, leaving Wilson to sit and make his own conclusions.

House had just met you and he didn’t know what to think about you besides the fact that he liked the way you stood your ground and he liked that you gave him an answer when no one else did. He didn’t take much time to take in how you looked, but from what he remembers from your brief encounter, he knows you’re attractive to him.

He needed to go bother the rest of the team and avoid you. He needed to ignore any and all chances that he might want to sleep with you.

It would only get Cuddy to assign him more clinic hours.

#house md #house md imagine #house md x reader #gregory house x reader #gregory house #hugh laurie #gregory house imagine #avenue-cherry

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imzadi-caskett-huddy · 4 years

Text

House, M.D. Fanfic (12/?)

Thank you to everyone who has taken time to leave a note on my story. I hope you continue to enjoy my rewrite of particular scenes and episodes with regards to Huddy. As always, I don't own House. If I did, Lisa Edelstein would have been offered the world to stay and be a major part of season 8.

As stated in previous chapters, the story follows the big picture laid out on the show, but with my own take on things. I do sometimes use dialogue from episodes... but there are slight changes and adaptations, as well as additions to fit what I need. We just have to grit our teeth and bear this revisit of the Tritter era. I'm not sure if I hated him or Vogler more... but I wanted to kill both.

Thanks to @love-hope-faith-feels-like-a-lie on Tumblr for reading my ideas and providing positive feedback! I love feedback... good, bad or ugly. Seriously. It's like my Vicodin. So please enable me! Enjoy!

xxxxx

"I need a script for Vicodin."

Cuddy looked up from the medical journal she was reading. "How many days do you have left?"

"I can probably get through the next few minutes or so."

She was honestly surprised he was there. After everything that had happened between them, she knew how hard it must have been for him to come to her and ask. "You're coming to me, which means your lackeys actually stood up to you. I'm impressed, good for them," she stood and moved to her desk.

"Yes, their cowardice is inspiring."

"You should be thanking them. If they caved, it would give the cops evidence that you intimidated underlings to feed your addiction," she stated, pulling out her prescription pad from her desk.

"I hate writing thank you notes. Would it be weird if I asked Cameron to write them?" He watched as she grabbed a pen. "You're hooking me up?" That was surprising, considering everything between them. He'd come to her as a very last resort, but he had never expected her to actually give him a script.

"Unfortunately if I cut you off, it would give the cops evidence that you don't really need the pain medicine."

"I knew that cleavage was a smoke screen! You're a genius."

She watched as he reached for the paper, and had trouble lifting his arm. Pulling it just out of his reach, she commented, "You can't lift your arm."

"You can't pee standing up. Gimme."

"You've been doing physio? Maybe you pulled something?"

"Yeah, been training for Pants Off Dance Off. Give me the script."

"Your shoulder problem isn't physical. What's new? What's different? Any big changes in your life recently? Fight with the wife, maybe?"

"Right, my shoulder hurts because you stopped having sex with me. It's your fault. Good thing you're hooking me up with the good stuff."

She was quiet for a moment. That dig at her had hurt a little more than she'd expected. "It's good. It means that your shoulder is a human being. It's a start."

He just stared at her. Maybe it really was because they'd stopped sleeping together. He wouldn't let himself say that they broke up... they hadn't been together to begin with. It had all been based on sex because she wanted a baby. That option was no longer on the table, so there was no reason to keep seeing each other.

"I'm right, right?"

"Yeah. Just not about me," he said, turning to leave after her words gave him an epiphany about his patient. He turned a moment later and snatched the paper from her fingers before leaving for good.

xxxxx

The mobile red dot that was distracting her benefactors caused her to stand. "Excuse me. I have a toddler to put in time out," she said, heading for the door. More like she had a doctor she wanted to kill. "House!" She barked firmly, holding her hands out to the side in a 'what the hell' gesture.

"Need my pills!"

She rolled her eyes. "Right, and there was no other way to get my attention. Knocking on the door would never work."

He shrugged. "If I knocked on the door, I'd be forced to talk to your benefactors. I don't think you really want that," he smirked. Which was true... he didn't have the best history at schmoozing anyone. "If you'd given them to me when I asked half an hour ago, I wouldn't have had to interrupt your meeting."

"It wasn't time for a dose half an hour ago," she stated, moving to the clinic pharmacy and asking for his pills. Taking them, she offered the cup with a single pill to him.

"You seem to be missing the rest of the bottle."

She gave a smile. "No more free floating prescriptions.... reasonable doses at reasonable times."

He just stared at her. Was she serious? "Who decides what is reasonable?"

"The only doctor in this building who is willing to write you a script for pain meds," she answered smugly, shaking the cup at him.

He scowled, but took the cup. "You spent the last six months trying to have a baby with me. Are you sure you're really the best judge of what's reasonable?"

She froze slightly at his words, but simply kept walking back toward her office. "Reasonable doses," she repeated back to him before opening the door.

He watched the door close behind her before heaving a sigh and taking the pill she given him. It was better than nothing.

xxxxx

She walked into the empty room she had allowed Detective Tritter to occupy to look through the hospital files that she had supplied only after he had given her a court order. "Seems like a waste of taxpayer dollars. You should be out arresting real criminals."

"I'm on vacation this week. And Dr. House is a real criminal."

"He's not a Colombian drug lord, he's a pain patient. And you're not going to find anything."

He smirked smugly. "I've found plenty."

Cuddy narrowed her eyes. "You act like you're doing the world a huge favor, protecting everyone from House, but who protects the world from you?" She asked him then. "House may be an ass, but you're a bully. You've bullied my head of oncology to quit, my entire hospital staff is afraid to do... anything, really. He's probably the world's biggest jerk, but there's always a reason behind it. But you... you're going after innocent people because you've got a grudge against one person."

"Not one of you are innocent!" Tritter responded angrily. "Not one of you have told me the truth about him!"

Cuddy stood her ground, toeing the line with him. "Where's your proof? Not a single person is going to say anything against him to you," she responded confidently.

Tritter studied her. "I don't expect it from Dr. Cameron... or from you. Like I told her, women don't give up the men they're in love with. And for whatever reason, both of you are a little in love with him... maybe even a lot in love with him. I don't expect it from Dr. Foreman... he isn't a fan of police officers. But Dr. Chase or Dr. Wilson? One of them will flip. Or someone else will. Or Dr. House will do something every addict does. Eventually I will get what I want. And then everyone who lied to me is going down with Dr. House."

Cuddy just stared daggers at him, still more than capable and more than willing to square off with him. "Even if Dr. House has a problem... it's a medical problem. One that should be dealt with by doctors, not police detectives with a grudge."

"Except that none of you are dealing with it!"

"You don't know that, because you're not a doctor! You're a bully with a badge!"

Tritter clenched his jaw for a moment, working the nicotine gum around in his mouth. "He's going to jail. Like I said, I always get what I want." With that, he grabbed his jacket from the back of the chair and left.

(Gif done by @gabrielokun and I will remove it if they ask. I just didn't know how to reblog their original post onto my story because it fit)

#house #house m.d.#house md #house fanfic #house x cuddy #huddy #greg house #lisa cuddy

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amelialincoln · 4 years

Text

Beautiful and Brutal

Amelia’s mind was flying a mile a minute. There was some sort of provincial high school football tournament going on at a field near by which had meant about a dozen concussions had entered the ER throughout the week. Now normally Amelia would not be paged for a concussion; however, all of these football parents seemed absolutely adamant that their child had some sort of spinal injury that required an immediate neuro consult. She was definitely a supporter of the better safe than sorry expression, however at this point it was getting a little out of hand.

“Hey,” Link’s voice filled her ears as she was swiftly pulled into a quiet trauma room.

“Hi,” Amelia sighed, allowing his arms to wrap around her waist.

“You look exhausted,” he smiled, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Probably because I feel it.” She smirked, resting her forehead on his shoulder. “I should go.”

Link pouted. “Meet in the attending’s lounge at five and then a long back massage tonight?”

“Sounds perfect. You’re off then too?”

“You got it,” he replied before holding the door open for her and watching her disappear into the crowded emergency room.

She was guiltily praying for emergent head injuries as the announced that yet another football player had, surprise, a concussion. Her eyes scanned the room as another player entered through the ER’s sliding doors. She quickly made her way to the elevator and pressed the button for the OR floor. As the doors opened she was supposed to find Koracick wheeling a patient into an operating room.

“Tom!” She rushed over.

“What’s up Shep?”

“Please let me take this off your hands. I literally haven’t stepped into an OR in hours. You’ve already had three surgeries today. Please, I’ll owe you one.”

“Yeah, no,” he laughed. “I’m not getting anywhere near that ER until Monday.”

“Tom, please. I’m begging. I’m super cute when I beg, you can’t resist this.”

“Watch me.”

“Doctor Shepherd,” Jo Karev appeared beside them.

“Not right now Karev, I’m really close to talking Koracick into giving me this surgery.”

“Definitely not close—” Tom shook his head giving Wilson a wink.

“It’s Jake,” Jo interrupted. “He’s in the ER. Alex is checking—”

“What?” Amelia’s eyes widened in shock before mumbling that she’d see them both later and racing down the hallway.

She found Jake and Karev immediately. Her heart pounding she made her way to the bed trying not to look frantic.

“Mommy,” Jake called out. Amelia winced at the pain in his voice.

“Hi baby,” Amelia replied. “Did you page Link?” She asked Karev. He shook his head and she tried to cover the shakiness of her hands as she paged him. “What’s going on?” She moved to kiss her son’s sweaty forehead.

“My stomach hurts,” Jake wailed.

“We’re thinking appendicitis,” Karev nodded. “We need to get him up to CT to make sure. The daycare brought him down right away.”

“Okay,” Amelia bit her lip as Jake wrapped his pudgy fingers around her arm, his eyes, a startling replication of Link’s piercing blue ones, staring into hers. “I’m scared, Mommy. It hurted.”

“I know, baby,” she said wrapping her arms around her son and climbing onto the patient bed. “But uncle Karev is going to take really good care of you.”

“Where’s daddy?” Jake asked. Amelia told him he was coming soon as Alex did a quick exam, confirming what he thought to be his diagnosis. “Uncle Alex?”

“Yeah bud?”

“I think I’m gonna throw up now.”

“Oh, Jakey,” Amelia gasped, shoving a kidney dish under him as he heaved. “It’s okay sweetheart.”

“Amelia!” A familiar voice rang through the ER. Link rushed over, hurriedly and knelt down before his son. “Hey, big guy,” he grinned. “You not feeling well?” Amelia was shocked to see his composure as he ruffled Jake’s hair.

“Daddy I throwed up.” He winced as Alex pressed on the right side of his abdomen. “Do I have to have surgery?” Amelia was impressed by the four year old’s vocabulary despite it being such a commonly used word in their house. Link looked to Alex, who nodded. “Zola taughted me that,” he explained as his parents looked at him with surprise. “She said when you get hurt to have surgery and Auntie Mer has to do it.”

“Well not every time you get hurt. But you might have to,” Link answered, Jake’s eyes widened with fear. “Don’t worry Jake, it’s not that scary. I had lots of surgeries when I was a kid.”

“Really?”

“He did.” Amelia nodded. “And you know auntie Mer?”

“Yes, I know her,” he responded.

“She had the exact same surgery that you might have today.”

“She had an appandaxs?”

“Well not anymore, but she used to have an appendix.”

“Cause they took it out?” Amelia nodded. “Oh. Like mine?”

“Like yours,” Link assured him, taking Amelia’s shaking hand in his and placing a soft kiss on her forehead. “I think your Mommy is more worried about your surgery than you are,” he joked.

“Why, Mommy?” he asked, placing a chubby hand over Link’s. “Surgeries aren’t scary. You do them all the time.”

“You’re right, baby,” Amelia bit the inside of her lip and swallowed, trying to soothe her tight throat. “You’re going to be absolutely fine.

Originally Alex had said he didn’t want either of them, especially Amelia, in the gallery. However, this idea was not popular among the parents and finally he’d caved. Amelia sat in Link’s lap. She’d started in her own chair but had lasted about as long as Alex’s attempt to have them wait in the waiting room. Link had his arms around her and she breathed in the faint smell of his cologne, not taking her eyes off the surgical table for a second. Alex had warned them that with Jake’s age there was a bigger chance of rupture, as if they didn’t already know.

“He’s going to be fine, babe,” Link breathed, as if reading her thoughts.

“I know,” Amelia sighed, relaxing into his chest. “This kind of this just terrifies me. He’s just all we have and I never want to lose him.” Link winced at the indirect mention of the trouble they’d been having getting pregnant again. They tried IVF for about a year before Amelia’s mental health had taken a bit of a turn. In the meantime they deciding on casually continuing to try naturally. However, he knew that Amelia was being anything but casual about it and had been obsessively tracking every fertile window and period she had. He tried to ignore the little sobs coming from their bathroom every month after she would hide the test in the groceries. Hoping he hadn’t noticed, which he did.

“You never know, Mia,” he tried.

“Can we not right now?” She uncomfortably shifted in his lap. Peering down at Alex who gave them both a two thumbs up before letting his resident close. Amelia breathed a sigh of relief, bounding over to the intercom. “Just a reminder that you’ve got Jake Derek Lincoln on your table, not the kid you want to leave a big scar on,” she joked to the resident who looked up in fear before tightening his sutures. Link chuckled lifting her chin so that their lips could collide and pulling her in to a tight embrace.

“I don’t know how my parents did it,” he sighed. “I hope we never have to go through that with him.” His expression darkened a bit.

“We won’t,” Amelia promised. “Now let’s get out of here so we can be there when our baby wakes up.”

“Our baby is four years old,” Link teased.

“He could be twenty for all I care. Doesn’t mean he isn’t still going to be my baby,” she added stubbornly. Link shook his head laughing, eyeing his wife and knowing that their child was going to have a long adolescence ahead of him.

Plz like and reblog if you enjoyed! And don’t forget to send me prompts.

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dracwife · 4 years

Text

long days ; late nights

if u think i will ever write a fic and not put references that are way before their time in context of the universe ur wrong.

The end of the day was, Rowan had to admit, likely the best and worst part of work.

The best for the obvious reasons - getting to go home, relax, destress after a long day.

The worst for the same reasons - you couldn't go home until you'd finished your work. And so the rush to finish filling out the correct forms and organize the proper files began for those who'd let themselves slip up on their paper-inclined duties.

Luckily, it wasn't one of those days today. An easy day, as Rowan would've called it. He simply hoped his husband-to-be had treated his work with the same tenacity.

As he stepped into the other's office, he could tell that it was, in fact, one of those days.

"Ready to go?" Rowan leaned against the doorframe, his coat draped over his left arm, which was held to his torso - he was the kind of person who's stress levels could be determined exactly by how tense he was.

"I have a few things I need to finish -"

Rowan let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

"It - It won't be long, I just have to fill out a few forms, they're mostly organized already," James turned in his chair, and began to file a few different folders in the drawers behind his desk.

He approached James' desk, draping his coat over one of the chairs before rounding it and stationing himself just behind Wilson, hands resting atop his partner's shoulders, thumbs gently massaging the muscles towards his neck.

James sighed, leaning back into Rowan's touch, and began mindlessly filtering the files still left on his desk, the pediatrician's own head coming to rest on the ever-so empathetic oncologist's - not an uncommon gesture between the two of them.

Kirk read as much as he could between Wilson's vaguely-annoyed filing.

"House having you doing his charts again?"

"What makes you say that?" Wilson pulls away slightly, if only to look rather questioningly back at Rowan.

"Because you always keep up with yours, and I don't remember being backed up on mine...And I'd hope that you aren't getting bullied into paperwork by everyone in this hospital."

"It - I'm not getting bullied into it."

"Well, I'm always one to assume that you do the favors I ask because of my boyish good looks, and I'd hope that you don't look at someone like House that way, and while he's your friend generally I would think you wouldn't be risking your job over it so...Either he's bullying you into it or you'd rather we call of the engagement and take a change of scenery, so to speak."

"Boyish good looks is the best you could do?"

"In theory."

"Well, in that case I can only assume you're marrying me for my boyish good looks? Or are they not up to par - a fives shut up, a ten is speaking kinda deal?"

"Except tens is plural. Sure. You know that the only reason I love you is because the women swoon when you walk in the room and wonder 'Who's that with him? His younger brother?' Who needs a -" Rowan turns James' chair so that he can look at him as he speaks, " - Great personality, surprisingly endless empathy, making me feel worthwhile, dedication, work ethic, and a myriad of other things I could probably go on for hours about on top of the, what was it? Boyish good looks?"

"So you admit I'm not attractive?"

Rowan scoffs, rolling his eyes as he swipes a file off of the desk.

"You're more than attractive, don't give me that bull."

He took his seat across from James, who turned again to face the mess on his desk, glancing up towards Rowan curiously, who had begun to write out something or other amongst the paperwork he'd taken.

"What are you doing?"

"Helping."

"By doing...House's charts?"

"Just want to get home sooner, darling. If you felt the same you'd start one too."

"You don't have to wait around. I can-"

"I don't mind."

"You're probably starving, you skipped lunch for an extra patient in Clinic today."

"Had a hearty breakfast."

"Toast and half a banana isn't hearty."

"More than my usual."

"You don't eat breakfast."

Rowan tilted his head slightly, looking up for a moment, a slight grin crossing his face, "My point stands."

They sat in silence for a while, collaboratively working independently, small talk in-between the scribblings, before they knew it was long past dusk, well into the night.

At last, Kirk handed over the last file, stowed away with as little care as House seemed to have towards the paperwork in the first place. The two doctors relaxed back, Rowan closing his eyes for but a moment.

"Did you tell your parents yet?"

"Hm?" Rowan's voice was barely above a hum.

"Getting engaged ring a bell at all?"

"Jamie -"

"I mean, it's been a month, and I'd rather start planning sooner than later, and it just feels like -"

"Jamie, please -"

"- As if you're embarrassed or something. I mean, I know it's not easy but -"

"James."

He stopped, flustered, mouth still slightly agape.

"I'm not afraid of coming out to them."

"I'm not saying -"

"Besides, I think they knew I was gay before I even did."

Wilson stopped, taken aback.

"I played with Polly Pockets and I wore shades of purple exclusively."

A short silence, a shared laugh. All was well again.

"I'm sorry. I've been stressed lately."

"I know. I'm not mad."

Another silence.

"You're too good to me."

This time it was Rowan who was surprised, "Not good enough, you mean."

"How many fianceés have you had that stay an extra six hours at work to do paperwork that isn't even yours?"

"Never been engaged before now, can't say my sample size of one is much to go off of."

"Your ability to make me feel almost disgustingly old never fails to amaze me."

"We're less than three years apart."

"And yet my extended family still sends me texts asking who the handsome young intern I'm always in pictures with is."

"A-ha, so you haven't told them about the engagement yet either!"

"I was...Making a point."

"So was I."

They both stood, gathering their things, though fairly slowly - they both were exhausted.

"I love you," Rowan pressed a light kiss against James' cheek, "I'll call them this weekend."

"Love you too," Wilson couldn't help but smile.

"Takeout sound good?"

"No complaints from me."

At the end of the day, it didn't matter to either of them, so long as they were together.

#self shipping #self ship #self ship community #f/o community #f/o #selfship #ship.sunshine & star trek jokes #dex.writes

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angry-slytherin · 4 years

Text

Heaven Help Me(Ch 12)

Jo’s fingers are interlaced with Alex’s as they wait on line for the coffee cart. Jo takes out her wallet, but Alex swipes it, shaking his head.

“I owe you.”

“What, for the sex or from that one time I got you coffee, like a million years ago?” Jo teases, grabbing her wallet back. “I’m a big girl, I can handle my own coffee cart finances.”

Alex rolls his eyes in his usual ‘over it’ manner, “Just let me be a freakin’ gentleman, okay?” Jo bites her lip, putting her wallet back in purse. She kisses his cheek, but his scowl remains.

“Ugh, you really need your coffee this morning, don’t you? It’s kind of funny how we as doctors preach that ‘coffee is harmful for you’ and ‘it’s an addicting substance’ when half the doctors I know rely on it to get through the day.”

Alex steps up, “Can I have a black coffee and a lemon scone, please?” he asks the vendor, then turning back to Jo, “Stop with the existential coffee crisis, or I swear I’ll be grumpy forever.”

Jo grins, “Fine,” she pauses for a moment, looks down at her watch, then perks up, “Oh! I have to be in the lab in five!” she says anxiously.

Alex hands her the scone, “Go make magic happen. Love you,” he pulls her in for a proper kiss. Jo quickly kisses him back, before rushing off, scone in hand.

“So you and Karev, huh?” Bailey asks Jo as steps into the lab, after changing into her scrubs. “Is that why you’re,” Bailey checks her watch, “seven minutes late?”

Jo drops her stuff on an empty bench, slipping her white coat on over her scrubs.

“No, uh, just lost track of time. And does everyone know everyone’s relationship status here?”

“Word travels fast,” Bailey hmphs as she looks down a microscope. “Oh, Wilson. Come look at these samples! Your idea to neutralize the-“

“It worked?!” Jo exclaims happily.

Bailey looks up at Jo and grins, “Looks like we may have just gotten ourselves some electric skin.” Jo squeals in excitement.

Bailey’s pager beeps loudly, and she looks down at it. “Chiefly duty calls, I’ll be back later Wilson.”

Jo waves her off, “Okay! Yay us!” She finds herself also being paged, an emergency patient in OR 8. So she makes her way to it.

“Wilson, get in here. No, not over there, I have to go. Forty-five year old male, presented with acute abdominal pain, someone bring up the CT for her please? Turns out he has a huge tumor on his gall-bladder.

You can remove it in a half a second, but I’m being paged. I’m not sure if it’s metastasized yet, just take it out. Thanks so much, Jo,” Meredith Grey swiftly makes her way to the scrub room in a whirlwind of information.

Jo takes a deep breath, clearing her mind of sweet scones, and even sweeter kisses, along with neutralized cell parts and electronic skin. She asks a nurse, “Clamp, please,” and she’s in her happy place.

***

“It is officially wedding month. Today is July first. Jo, are you listening? July first!” Amelia rattles on, and Jo dips an apple slice in the plastic peanut butter cup resting on her lap.

“There’s like two and a half weeks till your wedding. Besides, you two have been dating for years, you have a three-year-old son. Please tell me you’re not nervous,” Jo moves the peanut butter to the table, leaning into her elbows.

Amelia rolls her eyes, “No! But it’s so stressful. I ran from my last wedding. I mean I had a-“

“Brain tumor.”

“Grape-fruit sized! But still, I have yet to have a successful wedding. I want it to be nice; like the kind that people remember fondly and smile about. You know?”

“No. My first marriage ended in me fleeing. We had a courthouse wedding, because he told me he couldn’t wait. That was how he tied himself to me. I’ve never had a nice wedding,” Jo shrugs. Amelia grins cheshire-esque.

“What?” Jo deadpans.

“Well, you could have a nice wedding to Karev someday. Everyone knows you’ve been getting cozy. But he had a njce first wedding, so you have to top that. It was in a church.”

“He got divorced a little over a month ago. Somehow I’m sure that he’s not thinking of wedding bells just yet. Plus, it’s hard to top a church wedding. Did they have nice flowers?”

Amelia grimaces, “Meredith tells me they were pink.” Jo drops an apple slice into the peanut butter.

“Well its a good thing he and I are very new. So wedding bells are not ringing.”

“Yet,” Amelia adds cheekily. “However, I do have wedding bells ringing, and you’re best woman. Tell me all of my fiancé’s juicy secrets.”

Jo laughs, “Link won’t girl talk with me. Sadly, he has no juicy secrets.”

“What’s the point of being best woman without finding out the groom’s deepest secrets? I mean I know them, but still,” Amelia squints.

Jo shrugs, munching on another peanut butter apple splice.

***

“Hey!” Alex brings Jo in for a sweet kiss as they meet up outside the hospital doors.

“Hey,” she says softly into the kiss. Once they break, Jo bites her lip, big eyes.

Alex looks at her puzzlingly, “I know that look. What are you not saying?”

“Nothing, just tired,” Jo shrugs, folding her arms. Alex gives her a pointed look. So she relents, and starts walking toward his car.

“Would you ever want to get married again?” Alex looks taken aback for a moment, but ponders the question.

“I dunno. I thought that Izzie was the love of my life. Now...I’m just happy with you. I don’t know what my future looks like.”

“Yeah,” Jo inquires, “but do you want kids ever? Or a house, or I don’t know, Alex. Do you want something serious again?” She bites her lip again. Alex turns to Jo, stopping.

“Is this you asking if I’m serious about you? Because god Jo, I am. I meant I when I said I love you. I don’t know what I want right now. Is that okay?” Alex’s eyes soften in their gaze at the female doctor.

Jo shakes her head, “Yes, of course. It hasn’t been that long since...anyways I just want to know- I don’t know. I just wanted to know if we’re serious. And we are,” Jo smiles, yet the left flicker of her eyes is offsetting.

Alex grabs her by the waist, kissing her more fervently this time.

“Love you.”

“I love you.”

#jolex #jolex fanfic #jo wilson #jo karev #alex karev #grey’s anatomy #grey’s anatomy fanfic #wow incredible i published

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locke-writes · 5 years

Text

Black Heart

Author: locke-writes

Title: Black Heart

Request: House is, well he’s House. He’s always right and never really wrong. Except for when he let you go. You’ve not seen him for years. When you’re checked in to the hospital House won’t stop until he figures out what’s wrong and he won’t stop until he can convince you of giving him a second chance. For: @onlyanevilangel

Rating: T

Word Count: 2229

Warning: Hospitals, Medical Tests

As House sat next to you in the hospital waiting for you to be discharged he thought back to how it had come to this point. Luck was not necessarily something House had a lot of. People said he was lucky when he came up with a diagnosis for something that had nearly killed a person but that wasn't luck that was simply being a doctor. After every mistake he had made in his life he had determined that his luck must have run out when he was only a child. But then you came walking, or rather fainting, back into his life and he thought that maybe luck hadn't run out, just that maybe luck was waiting for something big.

The two of you had met when you both were fresh out of medical school and working at a clinic. It wasn't the fancy hospital either of you had dreamed of going to but it was a place to practice medicine and really that was all that mattered. House never particularly liked the job, most of the time showing that animosity to the patients themselves while you were grateful for any experience and strived to show kindness to all patients who entered the clinic although you did have your fair share of rude ones.

He never could pinpoint the moment that he fell in love with you. Reflecting on it he thought that might be because as soon as he realized that it was love he dropped everything and left. The two of you had started out friends who would occasionally go out for drinks when not on call or having to appear for a shift the next day. House could tolerate you and you understood House's personality which was something that no one could say they full understood. Not even now would anyone say that.

You gave him six months of his life and in turn he left you. You loved him and he loved you, the words never spoken but felt entirely.

Six months was all that you had together and it was all you believed you would ever have together until fifteen years later you'd meet again. Or rather until fifteen years later you were forced to meet again.

Every single day you were around illness, it was not something you'd ever thought much about. Eventually you would become ill, it had to happen at one point. Yet the symptoms pointed to absolutely nothing that you had ever come across. Doctors that you had been referred to had claimed nothing was wrong, fatigue and naseau were possible symptoms for a variety of things including a regular stomach virus. Yet despite what everyone seemed to say you knew something was wrong.

The only thing you knew when you entered PPTH that morning was that you had an appointment with a gastroenterologist. While you believed that it was something other than a stomach virus there was no one else that you could think to see. If a stomach virus was the common consensus then a stomach virus you hoped it would be. However that appointment would never come. You supposed that was what you got for passing out in the middle of a hospital lobby.

When you awoke you were laying in a hospital bed hooked up to multiple machines. You shut your eyes as quickly as you had opened them once the bright lights nearly blinded you. Staying like that for a moment you only opened them again when you registered who had been looking over your charts.

"Took you long enough"

"I want another doctor. I didn't want to find you, I never found you. You need to go and get anyone else I don't care who, just as long as they aren't you."

"Look I know I'm an asshole…"

You interrupted, "Not just an asshole. THE Asshole"

"If you want to know why you fainted today then you'll let me take your case."

"Anyone but you. There's someone else here that can answer the mystery question and it isn't going to be you or anyone involved with you. I've spent fifteen years of my life without you and I'll spend the rest without you too."

"There might not be more years if you don't let me take this case."

"Greg, I just got up and now I have to see you. I feel like shit but this, talking to you is pure torture. You want this case you can take this case but I want someone else here whenever you are. I'm not rehashing the past. Find someone to stick around and deal with this shit again, or leave again, your choice."

House knew you had your reasons not to trust him, all very valid ones at that, yet he couldn't help but feel hurt by the fact that you'd rather someone else take his case. All he wanted was for you to be out of this hospital and on your way again. He only wanted you to be healthy again and while it would be nice for you to know he knew you would refuse to listen to the fact that he still loved you. Wilson had never been informed of you and Wilson was the only person he could trust to keep the past a secret.

As he slipped out the door you leaned back in the bed and closed your eyes. Part of this was your fault in a way. You hadn't checked the full faculty list only the doctor that you were supposed to see. There were plenty of other gastroenterologists in other hospitals, just because this one had a few awards and was named best in the state didn't mean you had to see this particular doctor. It just meant that you'd definitely see this one because you could.

But of course the one person in your life that you never wanted to see again, there he was. You'd given him six months of your life, found yourself in love with him and him with you, then he up and left. He'd taken what he'd left at your apartment, slipped out in the middle of the night, had quietly quit the clinic job, and then disappeared without a word. You tried calling him for a period of time but all the calls were ignored and eventually you gave up. Fifteen years later your face to face with the one person you have the most regrets about dating without the ability to leave.

He was still the same Greg you had fallen for back then. Older, of course, but still the same tall, handsome, stubborn, know-it-all, that had charmed you back then. You had fallen for him quick and you had fallen for him hard.

You began contemplating what the hell you were going to try and do to keep feelings from returning.

Wilson was the only doctor in the entire hospital that he could trust to keep this secret if it slipped out. House refused to tell the real reason and left it simply at the fact that he pissed off another patient. It happened often enough that it was the most believable of excuses.

"So what have you been diagnosed with before coming here?"

"A stomach virus. You aren't even going to introduce me, Greg?"

He pointed to the man sitting in the corner, "This is Wilson. He agreed to be here because he has nothing better to do. Those other doctors are idiots."

"Obviously. If I believed what they had said then I wouldn't be here." You turned away from him, "Hello Wilson, pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise. I apologize on his behalf"

"Never apologize on my behalf. You don't know what you're apologizing for. What tests did they run?"

"Nothing. When the symptoms include fatigue and nausea they don't tend to look any further. Wilson, I take it you have no idea why I actually asked for someone else to be here because you most certainly wouldn't be apologizing."

"I assumed he had pissed you off. He does that often. I assume now that by you're using his first name you know one another?"

"You want to tell him Greg or should I?"

"Keep it a secret. I'm going to schedule you for a CT scan, we'll be able to tell if there's an actual issue causing you to pass out connected with your stomach."

"That just means he doesn't want you to think he's a bigger asshole than you already do. 15 years ago we dated, were in love, and then after six months he disappeared."

"House doesn't strike me as the in love type of person but now I'm understanding why I'm here."

"I feel insulted here" House interjected.

"You should." You replied.

"You're always a jerk but I think that sort of tops it all" Wilson chimed in.

"It just seems like you think I stopped loving you which is why I left. I don't think you've even considered the truth which is that I still love you and regret what I did every single day."

Before you had the chance to speak he walked out of the room and after a minute of silence so did Wilson. You were left alone to process what had been revealed. You'd never forgotten him in all your time apart and apparently neither had he.

You'd been taken by another doctor to the CT scan. After his confession you figured he'd want to stay away for a bit. He'd come back to the room to go over the results and maybe you could talk to him then. He needed to know that you kinda still loved him too. That you may have never stopped being in love with him or at least those feelings had lain dormant for a period of time until there he was, suddenly before you once more being the same self you'd known all those years ago.

He came in with Wilson and discussed the results. Cirrhosis of the liver but not just cirrhosis but an enlargement of it. There were varying reasons for cirrhosis but not for enlargement and a blood panel along with an MRI were scheduled for later. House of course already had an idea of what it was yet wouldn't tell you until the tests confirmed. You stopped him from leaving your room but sent Wilson on his way.

"You love me?"

"Honestly how could I not."

"The fact that you left kinda said otherwise."

"You want the truth?"

"Why would I want the lie?"

"I was afraid of fucking it up. I was afraid that I was in love with you. I was afraid that me taking this job would have driven us apart which was why I didn't tell you I had quit. I'd ask for a second chance but I'm sure that I don't deserve one, I think you'd agree with that statement"

"If I wasn't still in love with you then I would but it's hard to say second chances aren't deserved when you're in love with a person"

He stared at you for a moment, "You love me? After everything?"

You shrugged, "I thought I wasn't. I thought I'd gotten over you, fifteen years is long enough to forget a person but sometimes, and apparently this is one of those times, feelings just come rushing back as though they had always been there"

"So. You forgive me? And you don't care about this?" He questioned lifting the cane.

"I think it's going to take time, and probably a lot of it, for you to be forgiven. But eventually you probably will be. As for the cane, I have questions about how and why but no I'm not at all bothered by it"

"Well then. Once we get this diagnosis confirmed then, dinner maybe?"

"Yeah fine, Dinner."

One in a million that's what you were. Of course you would have some completely rare illness. Of course. It could never be something simple like a virus, it had to be malformation of arteries causing a blockage around your liver. One in a million.

Budd-Chiari syndrome. It was rare and it wasn't deadly but it also wasn't necessarily curable. House had another doctor set up a prescription for you, he didn't want it to look like he was writing you unnecessary prescriptions and potentially have his license questioned because he was in a romantic relationship with you. Or was about to potentially enter a romantic relationship with you, depending on how the first date went. You had also been put on the transplant list, your liver was functional but it could continue scarring until it failed and then when the liver failed so would the spleen.

House was worried, both about screwing up again but also about your diagnosis even if he was the one who had given it. But he pushed worry out of his mind and focused on where he was and who he was with. Waiting for a nurse to bring the discharge paperwork he had taken your hand in his, running his thumb across your palm. Relationships never seemed to stay hidden for long at PPTH and if he was being completely honest he didn't want this one to.

Second chances were always somewhat of a myth for Gregory House. He was glad they weren't a myth for you.

#locke writes #house md #gregory house #house md imagine #gregory house imagine #house md fic #gregory house fic #house md fanfic #gregory house fanfic #house md oneshot #gregory house oneshot

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