Diagnosis Is Far From Supernatural

Part VII




"Right. I don't think I can be anymore preteen girly then that," House stated, dryly. Sam stopped the third "seriously" about to drop from his mouth at that.

"Well, that's . . ." Dean reached, a spoonful of green Jell-O hovering near his mouth.

"Anti-climatic?" Wilson offered.

"Lucky?" Chase said.

"What you were hoping it'd be a STD? See, it's just a small… fungal infection," Sam said, giving Dean an Evil Eyed Bitchface.

"What's wrong with his face?" Cameron asked, curiously.

"He suffers from these kind of weird facial ticks. We call'em Bitchfaces," Dean commented, like a specialist interpreting . . . special things.

"Shut up, Dean!"

"Ah," Cameron said, not understanding at all.

"Well, moving on. I looked over the insurance forms signed here, Very INTERESTING," House said, annoyingly loud.

Dean and Sam glanced each other subtly. Not subtle enough of course for House. He winked at them in turn. Sam glowered.

"I have discovered three important things, children. One: I no longer have a hard on."

"Wait. What?" Sam said, scrunching his face.

"It's the Dean Effect," Dean nodded, knowingly.

"House," Foreman said, sighing. "God, we need a new case. .."

"Two: Wilson no longer has a hard on."

Before Wilson could open his mouth to reply, House shushed him with a finger to the lips. "I know, honey. I know."

"Three: You idiots can go home and do whatever secret illegal thing you're doing cause I've got a far more interesting case."

"We do?!" Foreman exclaimed, finally interested.

"We can?!" Sam exclaimed, just as relieved.

"We're still working on that mathematician . . ."Cameron started.

"I passed it on to one of the other useless doctors here. You know the ones who pass in the background looking like they actually do something instead of watching my brilliance. Now, hop to it minions," House ordered, flinging out a file for the new patient.

After the ducklings petered out straight in a line with Wilson trailing, Sam and Dean were left with House.

"Well, doc. . . It's been interesting," Dean stated, sincerely.

"Yes, Dean. We should do another rectal exam again. I think that's the best one I've ever had," House said, mockingly moony eyed.

"It's a date," Dean grinned, taking it all in stride. House's hand twitched on his cane. Thankfully, Dean had carefully made it to the door in an impressive side step gallop behind his brother.

"Thanks for the help, Dr. House," Sam said, grudgingly.

"Is that a 'thanks' or a veiled threat?"

"I don't know. Is my brother gonna be okay?"

"Yes. He will live to annoy you for many, many more days to come like big brothers do," House confirmed.

Dean grabbed Sam's arm and nodded "Okey dokey, bye now!"

Dean pushed Sam out the door and near sprinted them down the hospital's hallway.

House leaned out the room and frowned as he watched them go. A puzzle was slipping thru his fingers. He fingered his cane thoughtfully. However, a bigger more complex puzzle awaited him down the other end of the hall.

He'd had to figure out those mysterious brothers another day. He was sure destiny would swing them back here.

That or Google search.

House pondered a little longer. Nahhh. Google time is better spent on dolphin porn.

* * * * *

Dean was huffing and flushed as they reached the hospital entrance. Sam grasped him worried. "Dean, you shouldn't have exerted yourself like that!"

"Sammy, you couldn't see the wheels spinning in Doctor Irritable's head?! We had to escape while he was distracted."

"How do you feel?" Sam asked, not deterred in the least.

"A lot less crappy than I felt earlier. Now, let's go! We can pick up our prescriptions later," Dean urged.

Dean looked back at the waiting room full very of ill and "claiming very loudly how ill they are" people. All of them awaiting medical assistance to provide them relief from their physical aches and pains. He shook his head sadly as his sore throat twitched.

Little did they know what possible horror of the highest medical degree awaited them. They'd wish they had stayed home with several boxes of Kleenex and bad soap opera instead.

The poor bastards.

The End

Author's note: Sam's infection…he said "fungal." I bet it was a STD. We know how Sam accumulates those lately, lol.

Well, it's been years. I had intended this fic to be a one shot but it kind ran away from me to more chapters.

I decided to add an ending chapter to this fic no matter how lame I thought of it. I was reading this really awesome long fic by an author and when she stopped posting I realized how much it sucks not to get an ending. It didn't matter how horrible it is, I wanted to get an ending or some closure. Waiting is a more horrible thing in my opinion. So, I decided to provide an ending to my own fic.

All comments and reviews, welcome. If the story made you laugh then I consider my initial intent for the fic accomplished.

Thanks for reading!