A/N: Came to me while I was doing science homework. I have a very, very odd muse. At any rate, enjoy!
Rating: T, just to be safe.
Author: Bloody Koala: Hadley
Disclaimer: I most certainly do not own the rights to any TV medical dramas. Nope. Not one.
It was sunny, the kind of warm day nobody expected during the bitter-cold winter New Jersey was going through. Apparently, spring had come early, or seemed to at least. But this beautiful change in the weather was definitely not an excuse for a slightly less-sarcastic House.
"Hello, children!" House called out cheerfully as he strode into the room. He was three hours late for work. What else was new? Actually, there was a new alibi this time; one that actually had truth behind it. House's leg had put up a particularly good fight when he woke up that morning, and it had just recently calmed down. Hey, what was three hours of work? The patient would most certainly stay in perfect condition until they started testing her, anyway.
Files were strewn carelessly across the table. Apparently the ducklings had decided to get ahead on their summer reading. "We have a case," muttered Cameron, an expression stating her annoyance with House's absence plastered across her picture-perfect face.
"27 year-old female, presents with hallucinations and seizures." Chase said calmly.
"Cameron: go! Differentials, baby!" House sang out.
"Schizophrenia. Explains the hallucinations and the severe headaches." She spoke calmly, tossing a lock of her lovely brunette hair out of her face. House nodded in acceptance and scrawled her suggestion onto the whiteboard.
"NEXT!" House yelled, intentionally loudly, and Chase shook his head.
"B12 deficiency. It says here that she has celiac disease." Chase said softly, eyes more than half shut.
House cocked his head. "What's the matter, angel? Girlfriend break up with you?"
Chase rolled his eyes in true Foreman-fashion. "Shut up, House."
Foreman interrupted with his differential. Chase flashed him a 'thank-you' face. "Could have a brain aneurysm,"
House shook his head mockingly. "Just like the neurologist. Jump straight to all the brainy stuff. Hey, leave some fun for the rest of us, why don't you?" Foreman didn't reply. House marked it down as a personal victory. "Cameron: get some blood drawn and do some cool tests on it. Chase, go with Cameron. And get his folic levels checked, too."
"It's a her." Foreman stated.
"Whatever. Like that'll help me diagnose her. And… let's see, who am I forgetting? Oh, yes! Foreman, do a CT. Go on, run along!"
House waited until they left before sitting down and grabbing his thigh. What was wrong with it today? The pain shot through his whole body like the plague. It was as if someone had decided to set his leg on fire.
The vicodin was his desk. In the other room. A futile attempt to retrieve them was foiled upon standing. The pain was remarkably intense, and it hurt to even think about moving.
Let's see…could he call Wilson to get his pills? No. He would get all 'parental' on him. That was definitely not going to happen. Hmmm. House relinquished his previously protective hopes. He had to get that vicodin.
Standing up led to a wave of nausea plus the added disadvantage of zero leg support. He literally dragged himself to his desk, and then House grabbed the bottle. Down the hatch went four pills, dry-swallowed in the usual fashion.
Even after five minutes, the pills still weren't helping. They should've been working, but the pain continued to gnaw on his leg like a pit bull. And House was starting to feel very sick.
Wilson sat at his desk, hand already pinching the bridge of his nose. Migraine time. Suddenly, his pager went off. Wilson angrily pulled in out of his lab coat, terribly annoyed to be interrupted by such a loud noise. And the fact that the sender of the dreadfully important message was House didn't help, either.
He was almost going to ignore the call, but there was a slim chance House actually needed him. So, much to his working-self's dismay, Wilson's conscience took over and pulled him out of his office, straight down the halls to the Diagnostic department.
"House…you'd better not be fooling around with me—" Wilson broke off in horror. He had arrived in House's office just in time to catch the man as he fell to the floor, sweat laden across his face. "House!"
House's body tensed, and he screamed a scream louder and fiercer than any before it. It cut through Wilson's consciousness. "Let GO of me!" House whimpered. Wilson dropped him in shock, and his body rolled on the floor.
"God, House! What happened?"
"Hurts like…vicodin…don't touch me…please…please! Go away…get out of here…" and that was all House managed to get out before he fell unconscious, two feet from his best friend's open arms.
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