(House and Cuddy)

"Could somebody get me my damned vicodin pills? Where the fuck is my cane? You know, the ones with flames burning down the sides?!" A middle aged doctor snapped, who was also known as the infamous Doctor Gregory House. The doctor, who was taking a permanent leave of absence from his white coat, sat in the meeting room of the Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Yet again, the Clinic was jam packed with paranoid patients who eagerly waited on a doctor to tend to their every whim, complaint and fear – yet House didn't feel like Clinic work today. He was quite aware that Cuddy would track him down sooner or later, but his leg hurt like a bitch and the last thing he needed was a hypochondriac suggesting that they may have meningococcal resulting from nothing but a headache and a swollen toe.

Realising that the ducklings were off doing Clinic work themselves, he took a deep disgruntled breath and stared blankly at the clean white board.

"Why can't a patient that's dying of something interesting just walk into the hospital… Is it too much to ask? And screw the vicodin, maybe I can sway Cuddy into giving me some morphine… Not that it would work." His thick, deep and forceful American accent was clearly evident in his voice, reflecting a figure that was well educated and articulate, yet also one struggling with inner demons of his own. Carefully, he pushed himself out of the chair and he limped towards the far end of the meeting room, where he saw his cane.

"Ah! Perfect. Looks like somebody has a weird and twisted fetish for displacing good looking canes. I'll give that title to Chase. The accent is annoying, and so are his motives…" He reached down for his cane, and standing it upright he immediately shifted the weight from the bummed leg to his good leg and his cane. For a moment, possibly even a split second, a brief smirk cracked on his face but this was shortly replaced by that constant smug look he always kept. As he hobbled back to his chair, the glass doors slammed open and in walked none-other then the Ice Queen herself – Lisa Cuddy.

"HOUSE!" She snapped. Her expression was clearly south of a smile and House knew exactly why her PMS had decided to activate.

"Three…Two…One..." He thought, awaiting Cuddy's bombardment of verbal abuse and complaints.


"House! The Clinic is jam-packed today and all you can think about is sitting on your arse and trying to avoid it! We need all the doctors we can get and I know we haven't had any 'interesting' cases lately but I need you to go to the Clinic and just do your damned job! Understand?"

House stood there for a moment while leaning so calmly on his cane.
"You know as well as me that most of those patients are suffering something no worse then the common cold. Don't get me wrong, we get the unusual life threatening case on rare occasions, but until somebody in that waiting room lapses into a coma or a seizure then I think Chase, Cameron, Foreman and all the other doctors slaving away at your request can handle the patients.."

"Just get down there and do your job. As I said before, we need all the doctors we can get, now move!" Cuddy clearly wasn't impressed, but she knew House, and she knew that he would eventually go down and do his job. It just took a bit of persuading and threatening.

"Fine, but the next 'interesting' case that walks or convulses into this hospital belongs to me and my team, alright?"

"Fine, just get out of here before I fire you…"

A smirk appeared on Houses' face. "Yeah, I can 'really' see that happening…" Sarcasm was flooding his tone by now, but without further rebuttal from Cuddy, he limped out of the room and took his time while he made his way to the Clinic.

(Foreman and Cameron)

"As per usual, House doesn't show up for Clinic Duty. And in tradition, Cuddy would most likely be yelling at him… And threatening to fire him…" Cameron sighed while staring blatantly at her clipboard and walking alongside her colleague – Eric Foreman. A skilled neurologist but also a man who could get a tad too opinionated at times, especially when it came to standing in the way of Houses' brilliant yet insane ideas and methods.

"I agree. Maybe he will get fired one day…Maybe not. All I know is that if he keeps up this attitude towards his job AND his patients then we're going to have a repeat of Tridder, and trust me. I don't want the hospital to go through that again…" Foreman said sternly. He admired and despised House at the same time. In his boss, Foreman could see brilliance; in fact, anyone could – Although unfortunately that brilliance he admired was shrouded within the pain, anguish and pessimism that was 'House'.

"Relax Foreman, we've got the best lawyers on our side, and the odds of that happening again are pretty slim. " Cameron had always been the reassuring type, and she tended to be the one that would stick up and verbally defend her boss.

"I know that, but it could be avoided altogether if House just decided to stop being an ass for once.." Foreman's impression of House rarely ever changed. House was a genius. He was brilliant. He was a mastermind when it came to solving any mystery cloaked in the human body. But, he was an ass all the same.

"Fine, whatever you say. He's still a brilliant doctor though…" Cameron said with a mocking smile on her face, and with the clipboard firmly gripped in her hand she peered down and read over who her next patient was. "Alright, I've got to go to Exam Room 3. I'll talk to you later." And in hurried footsteps, Cameron made her way down the corridor and took a right turn into the Exam room.

"Alright. See you 'round." The neurologist sighed while watching his colleague walk off, and then he peered down at his own clipboard. "On to Exam Room 5 then…" And with that, he continued on his way to his destination.

(Wilson and Candice – Patient)

It had certainly been a tiring day, with consult after consult, leaving the oncologist sitting comfortably in his chair and watching the fan make multiple rotations per second. Dealing with terminal patients wasn't the easiest job to accomplish, but Wilson had a knack for this sort of thing, and he always felt as though he could actually connect with his patients and help them. Maybe not physically – As instantly eradicating terminal cancer was improbable and impossible, but he could always offer the right words and means of spiritual and emotional support.

Shortly after fiddling with a spare pen that had been lying on the desk, he perked his head up when he saw the doorknob slowly turn, and the door opened to reveal one of his sickly looking patients.

"Hello. You asked me to see you? I got the phone call this morning…" She said weakly. The patient appeared to be quite petite in size and height. The young woman, aged no more then 23 to 25 years old, and no more then 5'5 in height was clearly the definition and prime example of a terminal cancer patient. Her eyes were sunken in with dark patches under her eyes; her skin was a ghostly white and her lethargic and tired nature was clearly evident in the way that she approached Dr. Wilson's desk.

Taking a seat, Dr. Wilson smiled and sat upright in his chair.

"I'm glad you received my phone call. First off, how are you feeling?"

The patient, known as Candice Hadrow, shuffled slightly in her chair and she took a deep breath before she answered his question.

"Well, I suppose everything's been the same…You know…Being constantly tired, throwing up…Hasn't really changed at all…" She sighed, not exactly sure what else to say.

"Oh… I'm sorry to hear that. But what I wanted to know was how you're actually coping with your illness." Asking personal questions was risky and very tedious but it was a necessary part of his job.

Tears welled up in the patient's eyes, but she did her best to wipe them away. "I'm fine, really. I'll get all emotional now and then but to be honest, I just have to accept this and take life as it comes. No matter how short it is..."

"Good, that's a good attitude. Just remember that I'm here for you and you'll always have my support…But I've got some news on your cancer and it's up to you if you want to hear it or not." Wilson pulled out a yellow envelope from one of his drawers and placed it gently on the desk.

"It's your choice Candice." He said, a sympathetic look on his face.

Candice carefully eyed the yellow envelope, and very slowly she nodded her head. "I already know that I'm terminal. Whatever you're going to tell me won't change that…"

Dr. Wilson nodded and out of the envelope he pulled out a few sheets of paper along with an MRI image. "After doing a few tests on your liver cancer…We found that its growth rate has accelerated as it's considerably larger then it was at the last test we performed on it. I know this isn't good news, but we always have the option of giving you chemotherapy or radiation to slow it down…"
His eyes were filled with sympathy, and he never liked being the bearer of bad news but what else was there to do? She was his patient, and she had an obligation to know what was happening inside her body – No matter how bad it may be.

"Oh." Candice paused; the back of her hand quickly met her eyes as she wiped away the tears that were constantly welling. "So, if it slows the cancer down. How much longer will I get?"

Wilson took a deep breath, and sighed. "Perhaps a month at the most. I'm sorry this isn't good news."

Candice shook her head. "No, you're the doctor, and you're only doing your job and what you think is best. I'll think about the options…But thankyou for keeping me informed. I appreciate it." She smiled and stood back up.

"Remember, if you have anymore questions or if you just need somebody to talk to, don't hesitate to call so we can arrange an appointment. Have a good day Candice…" A warm and gentle smile appeared on his face, but deep inside he almost felt pity for her. Here he was, sitting at his desk with his cushy job and earning a fairly decent wage, with a potential life that ended with dying of old age, and there was Candice. Young, with so much life and potential, except for the fact that the cancer was eating away at her inside and that she barely had a few more months to live.

"Alright… Thanks Dr. Wilson!" Candice said cheerfully. For once, a smile appeared on her face, and she carefully exited out the doors and made her way back to where she was supposed to be.

"Anytime Candice…" He sighed, and he leant back in his chair and continued to stare at the ceiling.

(Chase and 'The Doctor')

"Ouch…Out of all the places the TARDIS had to stop…Why did it have to be the 21st century on Earth? And if it hadn't been for that bike rider that ran into me then I wouldn't have this chest pain and be in this hospital…" He thought.

The Doctor (a 900 year old Time Lord who was the last of his kind), wouldn't normally be in a 21st century Earth hospital, but thanks to a clumsy bike rider who crashed into him shortly after he exited the TARDIS, there was a strong chance that a few of his ribs had been broken in the process. Although he had accelerated healing, the pain was unusually strong and for all he knew, a rib could have punctured one of his internal organs. He'd still heal, and he couldn't really take anything for the pain due to his internal body chemistry although he could at least be checked out and become a bit more comfortable.

The TARDIS wasn't going anywhere and The Doctor utterly and fully understood every risk he was taking while being in a human hospital. Humans at this time were paranoid. Alien life had not yet been discovered and if they did happen to find an alien… Well, he didn't plan on being the first, but he did need the medical assistance.
He may be called The Doctor but he certainly wasn't anything like a real medical practitioner.

He sat down on the examining table and gently pressed on a sore spot around his ribs. "Argh!" He groaned, the pain shooting through the whole ribcage area. Not a smart idea in his opinion. He could feel his two hearts pounding inside his chest, and lifting up his pinstripe suit he could see the bruises starting to turn a nice shade of black and blue. Possibly even a bit of purple, but he wasn't going to be the one to judge the extent of the damage inflicted on him.

Just as he went to reach for his Sonic Screwdriver to check it if he still had it (which he did), the door to Exam Room number 2 opened and inside walked a blonde haired, green eyed doctor. His name was Doctor Chase, and he was one of the most skilled doctors that also worked under House as part of his team.

"Good morning…" He said in a thick Australian accent while peering down at his clipboard briefly, and then placing it on the table to the side. "I'm Doctor Chase, and what seems to be the problem?"

The Doctor sighed and pointed to his chest. "Well, the most annoying thing happened while I was on the street this morning. I took a taxi to work, stepped out on the sidewalk and all of a sudden this bike rider comes flying down the footpath and collides with me! I don't really know what hit me first, the wheel or the rider…But I've got these bloody chest pains that haven't really gone away…You know, hurts when I breathe, walk around, stuff like that." He said whilst shrugging. The innocence in his expression was still there, and luckily for him he was a pretty good liar when it came to covering up just who and what he truly was.

"Well…Oh wait, one thing…" He said, leaning over and glancing down at the clipboard for a quick moment before grabbing it along with a pen. "I might need this…" He laughed weakly, and then prepared to write an evaluation of the patient down on the sheet. "So…What's your name?"

"John. John Smith. That's my name…" The Doctor lied, using possibly the two most common and generic names ever used in the English language.

"Alright John… How old are you?"

"I'm 30…" Another lie, but he had to safeguard his identity.

"Alright… And you're suffering from severe chest and abdominal pains due to the result of a bike colliding into you?"

"Yep…That sounds about right to me…"

"Perfect. Well, just to make sure everything's alright with your heart, I'm going to use a stethoscope so I can hear what's going on in there. It won't tell me everything, so I'll have to get you in for an X-Ray. Most likely you've broken a couple of ribs, but there may be internal damage as well. Alright…This won't take long."

The doctor paused for a moment when he heard Dr. Chase mention the word 'heart', and he smiled weakly. "Do you really think that's necessary? I'm sure my heart is fine…Maybe all I need is some bed rest…"

Chase shook his head. "Well, if you were actually hit by a bike, then for all we know you could have a couple of ribs puncturing some important internal organs. And the earlier we find the damage, the faster you'll recover. Don't worry, X-Ray machines are perfectly safe and there's certainly nothing to be worried about for stethoscopes…" He said, retrieving the stethoscope from the shelf and then walking back over to his patient.

He plugged the two earpieces into his ears, and carefully reached the third end out and placed it on The Doctor's chest.

BOOM boom…….BOOM boom…….BOOM boom……BOOM boom…

"That's odd…" Chase said quietly, listening in on one side. There was certainly a strong beat, but he could have sworn he heard a separate beat. It was slightly quieter then the first, but he was sure he could hear a second beat.

He lightly moved the stethoscope away from where the heart was supposed to be, and further towards the right, and that's when his eyes widened from shock.
The second heartbeat got louder, creating an even and steady 'double' heart beat.


He listened for a second time before placing the stethoscope to the side and he scribbled something down on his keyboard.
Unusual Heart rate

"Do you suffer from a condition known as 'Cardiac arrhythmia'? If you don't know what that is, it's actually a group of conditions where the electrical activity of the heart is irregular or faster or slower then usual…It's not serious, but it can be, and your heart beat is highly irregular so I need to know if you have it, or if your family has had any genetic history from it." Dr. Chase seemed determined on finding an answer, because he was certain that he heard not one, but two separate heart beats pounding away at his patient's chest.

The Doctor looked up for a moment, and taking a deep breath he shook his head. "No…Not that I know of. Never really heard of that condition actually, but I suppose if one of my parents had it then they would have told me…"

Dr. Chase nodded, and he once again scribbled another note down on his sheet of paper attached to the clipboard.
Possible Cardiac arrhythmia

"Well, I definitely want your irregular heart beat to get checked out as soon as possible. As for your ribs, I'll need you unbutton your shirt for a moment…" In compliance, The Doctor unbuttoned his shirt, and exposed his chest to the doctor, which certainly raised a few eyebrows from Chase. "I'm definitely ordering that X-Ray. No doubt you've broken at least two or more ribs, and possibly damaged an organ in the process. I want to keep you here tonight for observation, but also so we can make sure everything is in order…"

"Is that really necessary? I mean, I'm fine! Actually…I think I can walk out of this hospital now. See?" The Doctor said, trying to stand up although the moment his feet touched the floor he was forced to sit back down on the chair due to the sharp stabbing pain from his broken ribs.

Chase shook his head. "You're not going anywhere outside this hospital. The more you walk around, the more damage you're going to do to yourself. Come on, I'll escort you to your room but the only walking you're going to be doing is to your room, and to the X-Ray. And I'm going to hook you up to a heart monitor to find out if you actually have Cardiac arrhythmia. Just to be safe…"

"Fine, whatever you say…" Grumbled the Doctor. He was glad that he was receiving treatment, but he didn't want the doctors nosing in on the future results of his medical tests. "If worse comes to worst, I'll just have to make a run for it. But where else am I going to get proper medical treatment. I don't trust the future…Last time I went there I was almost tortured." He thought, but without further complaint he painfully slid off the chair and held onto the chair's arm rests for support.

Chase quickly scribbled one last note down on the clipboard so he wouldn't forget.

Broken Ribs

Schedule an X-Ray
Perform blood test

Inform House of possible new case.

And with that, Chase helped support the Doctor as he helped the wounded patient make his way from the Exam Room and towards his room where'd he be staying for overnight observation. And possibly longer…