TITLE: Two-Faced
AUTHOR: Phate_Phoenix
PAIRING: House/Wilson (eventually), Tendershipping (if you're really looking for it)
WARNINGS: Crossover with Yu-Gi-Oh!
SUMMARY: Ryou Bakura thought it was only the flu. He was wrong. Now House and his team must figure out what is ailing the young Duelist, while trying to figure out if Ryou's strange, and sometimes violent, mood-swings are part of his symptoms or something else entirely…
DISCLAIMER: I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh! or House M.D.
NOTES: Has an actual interesting medical case! Odd symptoms? Check! Odd patient? Check! Odd illness? Check! We're good to go!

Timeline for House MD: After 'THE GREATER GOOD', before 'UNFAITHFUL'
Timeline for YGO: After Battle City, sometime during the Dragons Arc. Gets rather 'AU' from there.


Chapter Five: Cranky Kleptos

House threw the scans onto his desk and leaned forward, looking at his three fellows and single best friend also occupying his office. "Well," he said, "that was a bust."

Foreman glared. "It was also a bit of a reach," he grumbled. He glanced at Wilson, who merely shrugged.

"None of your tests were coming back positive," Wilson said, leaning against the glass wall. "I saw a connection that fit, and went with it."

House smiled brilliantly. "Now that we've all been identified as losers, can we get back to curing the sick kid?"

Foreman, however, was not standing down. "Why are you even here? Ryou is currently your ward. That makes you a liability."

Wilson straightened, planting his hands on his hips. His eyes narrowed as he gazed stonily at Foreman. "Are you saying that I'm being unprofessional?"

Kutner and Taub, sensing a struggle for dominance, slid away from Foreman and Wilson and towards the exit. Thirteen stood her ground, and House was suddenly given the image of her clawing the eyes out of Wilson's skull to defend her man. This would not do.

How would Wilson be able to appreciate Monster Trucks, Cuddy's cleavage, or his Soaps if he were blind?

"Now, now, now," House was saying, pushing himself to his feet, "we mustn't kill each other—one blood stain is enough for this carpet."

Foreman's eyes darted to the faded stain in the conference room, and the reminder seemed to take the wind out of sails. Wilson, too, quieted, paled, and leaned against the glass window. Kutner frowned, looking over at House.

"They never caught the guy who shot you, did they?"

House stared at Kutner before he rolled his eyes. "No, they didn't. Can we get back to diagnosing why a seventeen year old has tachycardia, swollen lymph nodes, and mood swings?"

Taub immediately pulled a small slip of white paper out of his pocket and held it out to House, raising his eyebrows. "Found this," he said as House took the paper, "in Ryou's suitcase."

House looked up at him. "It's an airplane ticket stub," he said, staring at Taub blankly.

Taub smirked. "Yes, but it's a ticket stub to California."

Kutner frowned. "So?"

Taub sighed, looking upwards for a brief moment. "Ryou and his father both stayed overnight in California before flying here." At the continued confusion from the room, Taub smirked. "Plenty of time for Ryou to be bitten by a mosquito carrying the Western equine encephalitis virus."

Foreman smirked, shaking his head while Thirteen's eyebrows rose. Kutner grinned, nodding. "That's perfect!" he said. "It explains the fever, the weakness, the irritability, the tachycardia, the lymph nodes… it fits!"

House grinned. "Great! Go run the blood test for it."

Kutner frowned, his eyes scanning the room before looking back at House. "You… don't want us to start treatment right away?"

House gave him a horrified look. "Start treatment without a for-sure diagnosis? Have you gone mad?"

Kutner stared at him as though he'd grown another head. House looked at Wilson, pushing himself to his feet. "C'mon, Wilson. I have a date with the Gorgon."

Wilson frowned before pushing himself away from the wall. "Should I get a mirror?"

House looked at him somberly. "It may not be enough."


House looked back at his team. "All of you—go leech more blood out of the albino and test him!"

"All of us?" Thirteen said, her eyes narrowing. "The same test?"

House smiled. "I just want to be really, really sure." He limped into the hallway. Wilson looked at the fellows before shrugging.

"I'd just do what he says," he offered before following the other man to the elevators. He slipped in just as they were about to close, raising an eyebrow at House.

"So, are you going to tell me what wacky stunt you're going to pull on my ward? Or shall I guess?"

House smiled at him. "It'll be fun!"

Wilson's eyes narrowed before he looked up at the elevator numbers. "I'm sure it will be, for you. What about him?"

"If he's having fun already, we may need to revisit the 'Munchausen' prognosis."

The elevators stopped, and the doors slid open. The two men walked out together, shoulders brushing as they moved. Wilson sighed. "I just don't want you purposefully hurting him."

House scoffed. "It won't hurt him. I promise." He smirked at Wilson's scowl. "In fact, I think you'll approve of this particular… idea."

"Oh?" Wilson said doubtfully, but pushed open the door to Cuddy's office as House flounced in behind him. Cuddy looked up at them, her phone pressed to her ear. She sighed, turning away.

"Alright, Debby. Something just came up; I'll talk to you later. … Yes, he just entered my office. Bye." She turned back, putting the phone onto its hook. "Alright, what did he do now?"

House placed a hand to his chest. "I haven't done anything. Yet. Actually, that's why I came to talk to you."

"No," Cuddy said, grabbing a pen and turning back to the paper on her desk. Wilson snickered, and House shot him a dark look.

"You didn't even listen to what I'm about to say!"

Cuddy smiled thinly at him. "I figured I'd just skip the whole crazy reasons and just go straight to the end."

House frowned. "But I think you'll appreciate my genius this time."

Cuddy frowned, setting her pen down and leaning her chin on the top her wrist. "Alright, fine. What is it?"

House leaned forward on his cane. "I want to give him a fMRI."

Wilson gaped. "What?!"

Cuddy stared at him, her smile becoming less amused and more annoyed. "Ah, yes. I see it House. Your genius is unimaginable. No."

House grinned, tapping his fingers on his cane top. "But, just think! Who has to pay for the fMRI?"

Cuddy glared at him. "Mister Bakura of cour—" She paused, eyebrows furrowing. Then her blue eyes rose to House's and she grinned. She held out her arms. "By all means, go crazy with the fMRI! As long as Wilson and Ryou agree."

Wilson's mouth opened and closed several times. "But… he… What?"

Cuddy smiled brightly at the two of them. "Wonderful! Great talking to you as always, Doctor House!"

House bowed his head to her, smirking, and limped out of her office. Wilson stumbled after him.

"What is going on?! Western equine encephalitis doesn't need an fMRI!" Wilson hissed as the elevator doors closed on them. House chuckled.

"Elementary, my dear Wilson," House quipped. "With the fMRI, we can see how albino-boy's—" "For God's sake, Ryou, House!" "—albino-boy's brain works."

Wilson blinked and turned his head to stare at House. "You want to find out if he actually has D.I.D.?"

House smiled, looking up at the lights. "I've never had a patient with this before! I've just got to see how his brains works." The elevator doors opened, and House and Wilson limped out just as Thirteen, Kutner, Taub, and Foreman were entering. Kutner waved awkwardly.

"Uh, he's in a very, very bad mood right now," he said. Wilson frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Taub shrugged. "He's being pissy."

House grinned brightly at the group and immediately limped away. Wilson watched him for a few seconds before stalking after him. He caught up and leaned in close to his ear. "What are you going to tell him?"

House shivered slightly, and Wilson raised an eyebrow at the action. Then House shifted away slightly, glowering at him. "Did you brush your teeth at all today? I'm amazed you haven't killed anyone yet."

Wilson frowned, placing a hand by his mouth and trying to smell his breath. House quickly slid into Ryou's room while the man was distracted.

"Good afternoon, my pasty little fiend!" he cried, throwing his arm into the air. On the bed sat Ryou, holding his left arm tight to his chest and flipping through his stack of brown cards. A pair of annoyed brown eyes flicked up to see him.

"House," he said stiffly, voice deeper and more menacing than usual. "Are your minions ever going to stop drawing blood from me? It's getting quite tiresome, and I'd like to know if you just plan on putting in a faucet."

House smirked, ignoring Wilson as he entered the room. Ryou, however, didn't. His brown eyes snapped over to him, and a small quirk of his lips was all the welcome Wilson received. He looked back at House. "What is it you're planning, House?" he rumbled. "I've heard from your lackies that you don't ever take an interest in cases, and never perform exams yourself. So?"

"I want to scan your brain."

"Again?" Ryou asked, brows furrowing. "I thought you'd already done that."

House waved his hand through the air. "No results came back on that one. This one shows us how much of your blood is flowing to different portions of your brain."

Ryou looked startled for a minute before his eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth. "I suppose," he snarled, "it's because you still think that I have someone else in my head?"

House chuckled, rolling his eyes. "I know you have someone else in your head. But," he began when Ryou sat up with what looked like intent to maim, "I honestly don't care."

Ryou blinked at him a few times, leaning his head to the side. House could practically hear Wilson's jaw dropping. "House!" the other man hissed. "You can't… if he has… he'd need help!"

Ryou's sharp eyes narrowed and he tilted his head to gaze steadily at Wilson. "We've managed fine on our own this long," he growled. "We don't have a problem."

Wilson let out a soft whimper, distressed. House jerked his head at him, but his eyes never left Ryou's form. "Forgive him for that. His brother's in the loony bin—didn't handle it as well as you… two have."

Ryou—or maybe not, House thought—chuckled at that. "I gathered as much," he said, strafing his eyes back to Wilson. "Nurses are horrible gossips, and a little politeness goes a very long way when you're talking to them. They're quite… desperate to help out poor, abandoned boys." He cackled, the noise higher in pitch than his usual voice.

Wilson placed a hand over his mouth, staring in horror at the teen before him. House, however, just smirked. "You have got to teach me how to do that…?"

"Bakura," he said, eyes dancing wickedly. "Everyone calls me Bakura."

"His last name?" Wilson snapped. "Why would you have his last name?"

Bakura shrugged, glancing at him. "Because it is my name." Then his eyes narrowed. "You and I are going to have problems, aren't we?" He sneered. "I don't like having problems, Wilson. I like to take care of them right away." He moved to rise from the bed, and Wilson's face went grey. House immediately stepped between them, placing himself in front of Bakura. Wilson made a choked noise, brown eyes growing wide.

"Hold it," House growled, holding out his cane like a sword. "I don't care what kind of mental problems you have. Let me get one thing straight—you don't hurt any of my crew. At all. You do, and I call in the people with the 'Give Yourself A Hug' jackets."

Bakura stared hard at House's face, his brown eyes darting over his features, as if looking for some weakness or sign of bluff. Something must have amused him, because suddenly he flashed his canines and chuckled. "I love it when you mortals become so flustered over a few injured parties here or there." House's eyes narrowed and Bakura rolled his eyes, waving him off. "Calm yourself, House. I shall not harm your dear coworkers." He paused, looking thoughtful. "Physically, anyway."

House grinned again. "That's all I can ask. What's the harm of a bit of mental scarring?" When Bakura's smile exposed his teeth again, House raised an eyebrow. "So? Can I scan your head? The tests shouldn't be back for awhile yet."

Bakura shrugged, leaning back slightly. "You'll have to take that up with Yadonoushi. I could care less." Then, like flipping a switch, Bakura's eyes softened and his hair seemed to droop. He blinked a few times, rubbing his eyes before looking between House and Wilson.

"Oh," he said, gently, softly, "uhm… I don't mind."

Wilson quirked an eyebrow at him. "Ryou?" The teen smiled—it was peaceful and serene, the exact opposite of Bakura's.

"Yes," Ryou said. He rubbed his right shoulder awkwardly. "I'm really sorry for how rude Yami was to you. He's not very good with people."

House frowned. "Yami?"

Ryou blinked. "Um, that's what I call him. I mean, his name is my surname. It's just too odd…" He trailed off, blinking into space. Then Ryou turned back to the two doctors, his brown eyes focusing on Wilson. "Doctor Wilson, are you going to be okay?"

Wilson shook himself before looking straight at Ryou. "I want to know if you will be okay." Ryou smiled at him.

"I will," he declared. "Yami is difficult at times, and he's never very pleasant, but…" he shrugged, "I couldn't imagine living without him." Ryou paused, glancing at his hands. "Can we get those scans done now?" He smiled slightly, his eyes bright. "I want to see what my brain looks like, too."


"Alright, Ryou," Wilson said into the speaker, looking through the tinted glass at the large machine before them, "I just need you… and Bakura… to answer these questions. Both of you. Do you understand?"

"Okay." "Just get on with it. "

House made a noise beside him, and Wilson looked down at the screen. His eyebrows shot into his hairline. "Wow," he murmured, staring at the colored specks dotting across the grey and black image of Ryou's brain. "House," Wilson looked over at the other man, "what…?"

House smiled back at him. "I'm going to frame these and put them on my walls."

Wilson rolled his eyes, looking back at the computer. He pressed down on the speaker. "Alright, we're starting the questions now. Where were you born?" Wilson thought asking a figment of Ryou's psyche where it was born was absolutely ridiculous, but, as always, House won out in the end.

"Uhm," Ryou's voice trickled in, "Tokyo, Japan."

"… Kuru Eruna."

The screens lit up with flashes and color. House leaned back, blinking at the vivid images. He reached over and pressed the speaker button. "Hey! Stop talking in your head!"

"Oh, uh, sorry."

"Stop apologizing. It's pathetic."

House snickered, looking over at Wilson. "This kid is so screwed up."

"It's hilarious," Wilson snapped before turning back to the speaker. "Next question…"


'Can this man not make us go faster?'

'Quiet, Yami—Doctor Wilson is keeping pace with Doctor House.'

'I don't care about a limping gimp. I want to get to our room to double-check my cards.'

Ryou glanced over his shoulder, to where Doctor Wilson was looking at the fMRI that Doctor House was holding, before turning to face ahead again. While Ryou didn't understand exactly what the different colors meant over the different sections, the two doctors behind him seemed to find it extremely fascinating.

"See there?" Doctor House was saying in a giddy tone. "All those yellow dots? Hyper-usage. And here! Look at where the hippocampus is located!"

Doctor Wilson whistled softly. "Wow… But this is only when… Bakura is talking, right?"

"His memory is better than Ryou's."

Ryou craned his head back to look straight at them. "He has a photographic memory."

Wilson blinked. "But you don't?"

"No," Ryou said, shaking his head. He saw House and Wilson glanced at each other before turning back to the fMRI.

"So," House began slowly, "does that mean that photographic memory doesn't have anything to do with the brain?"

Wilson shrugged. "Either that, or Ryou just can't access that ability because of Bakura."

Ryou felt Bakura's irritation flare, although it was tempered by his dark amusement. 'These mortals are so eager to place things into simple boxes, eager to explain anything they find. It's pathetic. It's amusing.'

'It's not their fault,' Ryou interjected. He heard Bakura snort, and Ryou rolled his eyes in return. 'They don't know any better. It's not like there are many humans who have two souls in one body.'

'Ignorance has no excuse.'

Ryou fought not to roll his eyes again and instead turned his attention onto the door of their room as they rounded a corner. 'See? We're almost there. You'll be reunited with your cards in a mo—'

Ryou froze, blinking as he looked around the hallway, brows furrowing. He leaned forward in his wheelchair, peering left, and then right. As House stepped ahead of Ryou to open the door for Wilson to push him through, Bakura slithered in the back of Ryou's mind, agitated, nervous.

'Yadonoushi?' Bakura hissed, and Ryou shifted uneasily in his seat. Ryou felt Bakura wrap himself around his own mind, clinging firmly. Ryou swallowed thickly as Wilson pushed him into his room. Ryou looked around, squinting. Why did everything feel so… off?

"Ryou, are you alright?"

Ryou turned around, frowning at Wilson. "I'm fine…" he said, and pushed himself to his feet.


And immediately stumbled forward a step, leaning over the freshly-made hospital bed. He gripped the white sheets tightly, blinking rapidly as his vision swam.


"Tell me what's going on in your head."

Ryou gasped sharply as someone pushed him onto the bed before him. "Dizzy," he wheezed. "Feels like I've never been here before… know I have, though… remember it."

He squinted up at House who was already limping to the doorway. "Hey!" House called into the hallway. "I'm going to need some help in here real soon!" House turned back around and grinned at Ryou. "You have Western equine encephalitis," he said. "You're going to seize in a few moments, but at least you know what's wrong!"

Bakura clawed tighter to Ryou's consciousness, as the dizziness, the reverse déjà vu, the swimming vision worsened, and then everything went black.


Two nurses held Ryou firmly on his side while Wilson and House stood back, unable to do much more than watch as Ryou's body slowly began to calm. Just as the last tremors rattled from the thin frame, House's fellows rushed into the room. As the door closed behind them, they were immediately startled into silence. Taub's eyebrows rose sharply upwards.


Wilson looked at him. "Ryou suffered a seizure, another symptom of WEE."

House smirked. "Oh yes, there's wee all over this kid."

Wilson rolled his eyes. "Now you're being crass. It's part of the seizure."

Thirteen's eyes darted between the two of them. "But… the test results came back negative," she said. House and Wilson snapped back to face her. Thirteen held out Ryou's file. "He doesn't have it."

House frowned, turning back to Ryou as the nurses began to strip him of his soiled hospital gown. He leaned heavily on his cane, turning back to his fellows. "Back to the drawing board. Literally."


House looked back to the nurses, one of whom had her fingers in Ryou's hair. She stared back, eyes wide. "Did you see this rash?" she asked, stepping back.

Foreman pushed away from the doorway and strode around to the other side of the bed. He took the nurses place, peering between the white hairs to spy the tell-tale bull's-eye shaped rash.

Foreman shook his head, leaning back. "Lyme disease," he said, peering up at the group.

"Just one problem," House said, drawing all eyes to him. He frowned at Ryou's unconscious body. "Lyme Disease doesn't cause seizures."


WEE virus or Western equine encephalitis virus—A fairly uncommon viral disease found in states west of the Mississippi River. At one point, WEE was one of several viruses that the US thought could make potential biological weapons.

fMRI or functional Magnetic Resonance Imaging—A specialized type of MRI scan that measures heamodynamic response (blood flow in the brain) related to neural activity in the brain or spinal cord of humans. Due to its low invasiveness, lack of radiation exposure, and relatively wide availability, fMRI has become the common way to map the brain.

D.I.D. or Dissociative identity disorder—A psychosis in which a single person displays multiple distinct identities (known as alter egos or alters).

Jamais vu—The term used to describe any situation where the observer feels as though they are seeing a situation for the first time, despite rationally knowing they have been in the situation before.