A/N: this is my first fanfic and its probably not very good so yeah I want a lot of reviews im not sure where its going or what so yes reviews good and bad all welcome because I know im not a good writer I get good ideas but I just cant really put them on paper the way I want them. I have no real medical knowledge yet and this chapter is kind of just the beginning no real hook but I am good at them so please do not give up on the story just yet so yeah here it is thanks!
"Tick, tick, tick," the clock was like murder to his already pounding head. "Tick, tick, tick," he couldn't get up to turn it up for fear that he would lose everything in his stomach. But he had to, he thought that he was going to be sick anyway. He planned it out get up and run to the bathroom. But wait one problem the leg. Oh well he would just have to go as fast as he could. He grabbed his cane and stood up quickly. Uh-oh bad idea room spinning leg giving out "Tud" he landed on the floor. When he managed to get up he started puking un controllably. After emptying his stomach and dry-heaving for what seemed like forever finally it was over. House sat there covered in sweat and vomit not knowing what to do, if he called in sick that would be saying that he was sick and then there would be so many questions from Wilson and Cuddy if he was sick or just at home watching porn or hung over and he just didn't want that, not today. Now he needed to get up he eventually made his was back on the bed. After several minutes of groaning in pain from his leg and stomach he thought of taking a couple vicodin but he didn't think that he could keep them down. So instead he decided to suffer very un-House like maybe he was sick he thought to himself. He leaned more heavily on his cane as he made his way over to his closet and threw on what ever he could find. He had to get to work who knew what time it was. This is very House like avoid work as much as he could and as soon as he has a real excuse to stay home he wants to go to work. Even though he knew it was irresponsible to ride the bike his car was in the shop and he couldn't ask Wilson for a ride because he didn't want to deal with anymore questions; so he rode it anyway. Ridding made him even dizzier so he went slow. He knew he would get yelled at from Cuddy for being late, but at least he'd be alive to get yelled at. He limped up to his office without getting caught some nurses noticed him looking off but didn't say a word; thankfully Cuddy and Wilson were nowhere to be seen.