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Tags: housefic house md sick_house
Published : 8 months, 1 week ago (Mon, 17 Mar 2008 20:44:35 PDT)
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Title: A Gentle Knock at the Door, Part 9
Author: zeppomarx
Characters: Mostly House & Wilson, plus Cuddy, Chase and Foreman, along with some new folks.
Warnings and So On: Probably NC-17 for concepts. Later on for violent imagery plus... oh, you'll just have to wait and see. H/W friendship (perhaps slash if you wear slash goggles)
Summary: A sequel to Priority's Exigencies , which is a sequel to DIY Sheep's The Contract, which has now spawned an incredible number of offshoots. The short version is that House is a physical and emotional mess, having been wrongly imprisoned and tortured and all sorts of nasty stuff. It's about whappens next, and how House deals with it.
Timeline: Set nearly a year after the beginning of Exigencies.
Earlier parts here: Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8
Comments: Be gentle. And if you're going to flame me, go elsewhere. Thanks to AW, GM and my medical guru TD, who tells me the medicine is okay, but the procedure is all messed up. Drama trumps medicine, or so I've heard.
Oh, Yeah, the Disclaimer: I certainly don't own House or any of the characters therein, although it would be nice if I did. They belong to David Shore & company. It's just that they waltzed into my head and wouldn't leave until I told their story.
Teaser: House stops vomiting. For the rest, you'll just have to read more...
___________________________________________
A Gentle Knock at the Door
Part 9
Half an hour later, Wilson called Cuddy back from the privacy of his own place. He’d left House with Linda, who was cleaning him up, giving him a massage and trying to calm him down.
“What was that all about?” asked Cuddy.
“You want the candy-coated version or the real deal?” asked Wilson. He tended to pass out the candy-coated version of things pertaining to House.
“Real deal.”
“It made him sick. Physically sick. When I hung up with you, he was heaving in the bathroom.”
“Dear lord,” said Cuddy, shocked. “I had no idea.”
“He’s shaken and he’s very angry.”
“Understandably,” said Cuddy. “It was one thing when we thought The New York Times might put two and two together, but it’s a whole different thing when someone in our own hospital catches a private moment between doctor and patient, and then reports it to a TV station. It has to be playing into his own insecurities about taking on Rainie’s case.”
Wilson agreed. “He doesn’t know if it’s one of his own team, the nurse in the room, or someone passing by. He said there were about six or seven doctors and nurses in the doorway gawking at him as he was trying to reach Rainie.”
“What!?!” Cuddy was furious. She hadn’t known; she’d deal with that in the morning. Hating to ask her next question, although she thought she already knew the answer, she asked, “Did he really cry?”
“I didn’t presume to ask,” said Wilson, “but if I had to guess, I’d say yes, only because he was so upset about the news report. It’s incredibly hard for him to open up in the first place, and then to have your most vulnerable moment as the lead story on the nightly news. Not to mention the suggestion that he’s not competent because of it. He’s certainly been through it before, but this is different. He must feel in a way as if he got raped again.”
There it was, out in the open. The one aspect of House’s torment she’d tried very hard not to think about. Rape. The thought of it made her feel ill. An invasion of the body, the soul, the spirit, a degrading, humiliating experience that made the victim utterly defenseless. Her stomach churned. Something about the way Wilson said it made Cuddy realize for the first time that House must have been raped more than once, and probably often. It was horrible. She couldn’t bear thinking about it. When she finally spoke, it was in a quiet voice. “How’s he doing now?”
“Dunno. I’m headed back over as soon as you and I are finished here. What are you planning to do about this?”
“First thing in the morning, I’m interviewing everyone who was at that door or passing by yesterday afternoon. Let’s hope I can find out who did it… and that it wasn’t one of House’s people. When I find out, that person’s ass is grass. Then, damage control. I feel so bad—I tried so hard to protect House this time, and I’ve failed him again. He doesn’t deserve this.”
“You couldn’t have seen this coming, Cuddy. You thought you had all the bases covered. Who knew there’d be a snitch? If it’s someone on the team, he’s already warned them they’ll be fired if anything gets leaked. If it’s not… well, that’s actually better for him. Then it’s just a lone idiot, instead of a betrayal.”
“I’ll keep you in the loop,” said Cuddy.
“Thanks.”
Wilson suddenly heard loud noises coming from the other side of the duplex.
“Something’s up. Gotta go.”
He ran out his front door and into House’s place. He found House crumpled on the floor of the living room near a broken chair and a smashed vase, his crutches scattered out of his reach. He ran to his friend’s side.
“What happened, House? Are you okay?”
House didn’t answer. Wilson looked up at Linda, who shook her head.
“Come on, big guy. I turn my back for a second and you can’t keep your feet under you?”
House glared at the floor.
“It impossible,” he said to no one in particular.
“What is?”
“Everything.” He struggled to sit up. Wilson and Linda helped him back to the couch. After they’d made him as comfortable as they could, he went on, bitterly. “I can’t do my job. I can’t live my life. I can’t do anything without becoming the freak that everyone has to gape at, that everyone wants a piece of. I can’t even protect my patient.” His head dropped to his chest. “I just want to do my job and be left alone.”
For some reason, Wilson thought back to the nightmare of a few days ago, when House begged to die. He didn’t know what to say. His friend was on a huge emotional rollercoaster right now, after months of detachment and numbness, and all he knew to do as a friend and colleague was ride along with him.
They sat silently for nearly half an hour, as Linda massaged House’s neck and shoulders, the only sound an occasional grunt or moan.
Finally, House looked at Wilson, took a deep breath and gave him a resigned half-smile. “Okay, I’m over it. Pity party done. Time to move on. But I’d better not find out one of my people leaked that to the press, or they’ll really have something to report. ‘Tortured Doctor Kills Physical Therapist.’ Yeah, that’ll be a great headline. Hilarious.”
Wilson smiled wanly. “Let’s get you to bed. Do you need any more pain meds? I think you’re ready for another Vicodin.”
“I’m always ready for another Vicodin,” said House, sincerely.
* * * *
By mid-morning Tuesday, Cuddy had the whole story, and in a sick sort of way, it had a happy ending. She called Wilson, and asked him to please pass the news to House, when he thought House was ready to hear it.
“Turns out, one of the guys hanging out in the doorway was a buddy of Alan Pevey’s. He pumped Michael Samura for information about who the patient was, and found out that House was lead on the case. Couldn’t wait to run off to Pevey and spill his guts about what he’d seen—especially the part about the great House crying over an injured patient. Pevey called Channel 2. And Channel 4. And and and… Fortunately, only Channel 2 was willing to run such sensational material.”
“So what can you do about it?” asked Wilson. “Pevey’s tenured, isn’t he?”
“Yes, but that’s the beauty about the way this happened. Because it was so blatantly malicious, detrimental to the health and wellbeing of two patients—House and Rainie—and is so well documented, I have no problem taking this to the board—minus Pevey, of course. The board can fire him. I can fire Pevey’s cohort, and in fact, already have. And I’ve reprimanded Michael Samura, and removed him from Rainie’s care.”
“You know I’ll back you up. Are you calling a special session?”
“Try and stop me. It’ll be ASAP, preferably today.”
“I’ll be there. With pleasure.”
Her desk was covered in phone messages from news outlets. Damn it, she thought, sitting down to her desk to start drafting a press release. Why can’t House catch a break?
* * * *
House kept his head down as got off the elevator. He’d already noticed a couple of people who must have recognized him; they were whispering. He gritted his teeth and unlocked his office door, shutting it behind him. Once he was settled, he listened to Wilson’s message about Pevey. Well, he thought. That’s an interesting twist. He was more relieved than he was willing to admit that the snitch was not one of his people and was connected to Pevey. Ever since he’d returned to work, he’d dreaded running into Pevey, who had made it very clear he thought Greg House had gotten what he deserved. There had been several confrontations, episodes that left House shaking.
Before things got more out of hand, House figured he’d better deal with the kids. Foreman answered the conference room phone.
“Foreman, I need to talk to the three of you right away,” said House. “Can you get up to my office? My other office, I mean. It’s 527—as soon as you can?”
Foreman hung up the phone. “Come on,” he said. “Something’s up. Bet it’s about the news last night.”
When they entered his office, they found House sitting in his Eames chair, turning the oversized tennis ball around in his hands.
“Sit,” he said, nodding toward a small round table and chairs. They sat.
“Let’s get this over with,” he said, gruffly. “Who saw the news last night?”
Foreman and Devi raised their hands. Chase shrugged his shoulders in agreement.
House scratched the stubble on his chin as he tried to come up with the right way to put it.
“Hate to cut short all your hard detective work, but here’s the answer to your little mystery. Yes, I’ve offered to be the lead physician for Maureen Adler’s long-term care. You got the gist of her story on the news. Cuddy, for some insane reason, took me up on it. Because we knew this would be a hot topic, we kept things quiet. However,” he said, allowing himself a moment of anger, “someone decided this was the perfect story for the evening news. Any questions?”
Any questions? Of course they had questions—tons of them. But few they were willing to ask. They did ask if the snitch was anyone they knew. He gave them the name and told them the person had been fired and removed from the premises.
Devi looked at House. His body was tense, his face angry but controlled. “Dr. House?” He continued staring at the floor. “We’ve been getting calls from the press for the last couple of days. We haven’t told them anything…”
House looked up. “I didn’t think you would,” he said.
Devi felt strangely elated.
“We do need to know how you want those calls handled,” she finished.
“Keep taking messages. Get them to me every so often. I’ll work it out with Cuddy. Anything else?”
They were dying to ask about Maureen Adler, about why House felt he had to work with someone whose case was bound to bring up his own horrible memories, about whether he could handle it, and whether or not he’d really been caught crying. But they weren’t going to ask those questions. Besides, he wouldn’t have answered them anyway. Instead, they asked a couple of administrative questions. Just as they were standing up to leave, there was a knock at the door.
“Dr. House? It’s Jacob Yuen.”
“Come.”
The three physical therapists entered as the three diagnosticians left. They exchanged glances in passing, all six of them looking disturbed and thoughtful.
This was going to be a hell of a day, thought House. “Okay. Let’s get it over with. You saw the news. You’re wondering what’s going on, how I’m doing, and if one of you was responsible. Short version: We’re still treating Ms. Adler, how I’m doing is none of your goddamn business, and none of you called the press. However, one of our rubberneckers from yesterday did. He’s been fired and is already gone. Other steps are being taken. In short, you are all responsible. So is Michael Samura… and so am I. We’ll deal with what to do about it at the meeting.”
The three looked uneasy.
“In the meantime, new rules. No one—and I mean NO ONE—gets access to anything we’re doing without my express okay. That woman is to be protected. It’s very likely, now that the news is out, that we’re in for a siege for a while. Some of these tabloid people will stop at nothing to get a photo or a story, especially one that intrudes on other people’s privacy.” He stopped short of saying, “I should know.”
“You may be approached or even offered bribes. Report everything back to me. Keep an eye on who is seen near Rainie’s room when you’re there. Security has been posted outside her room and at both ends of the hall for the time being, and has been beefed up around the building. Be my eyes and ears, if you can. Our patient’s life and wellbeing may depend on it.”
House stood up slowly. All this tension didn’t help how his body felt. Leaning heavily on his crutches, he made his way to the door.
“Now, let’s go see if we can get a little further on physical therapy than we did yesterday.”
* * * *
This morning’s massage session went a little better than yesterday’s. The guard outside made sure the room was blocked from the curious. Rainie responded even more quickly to House and allowed a little more physio than she had the night before, although still with only one therapist, this time Claudia. And House didn’t cry.
He needed to rest after Rainie’s physio. Around lunchtime, Wilson found him slumped down in his chair, his long legs up on the ottoman. “Hey, big guy,” said Wilson, gently touching House’s arm. “Atta boy. Rise and shine.” House opened his eyes.
“How’s it going?”
“Not bad.” The naps did help.
“I think Cuddy wants to see you after lunch.”
“Not surprised.”
They ate in silence. Today’s treat was a gigantic snickerdoodle. Neither of them commented on it, but House knew Wilson was trying to make up for the dinner he’d thrown up last night.
When House checked in with Cuddy, she updated him on the press situation. It wasn’t good. Dozens and dozens of calls had been placed to the hospital from reporters around the world trying to get the inside track on Maureen Adler and Greg House. A couple of tabloid photographers had been caught inside the hospital, and were ejected. He told her his idea of having Dr. Ajunta return the calls made to his cell phone; she agreed that was as good a plan as any. Right after he left her office, she sent an email to the entire staff, establishing the ground rules for dealing with the press and with the medical team, presenting a stern warning about what would happen to anyone who violated the rules.
After another short nap, House made his way to the conference room to meet with his team. He could see hospital personnel taking sidelong glances at him as he moved slowly through the hall, and a couple of times he heard whispers come to an abrupt halt as he neared.
Most of the group was already present when he arrived. Wilson was standing in the doorway chatting with orthopedist Karen Langley, but Ajunta was already seated. Settling himself into the center chair again—his chair, apparently—House looked around. Everyone looked grim. Better deal with it head on, he thought.
“I’m sure you all know at least part of what went on yesterday, since it’s been splashed all over the news, and everyone in the hospital seems to find it infinitely more interesting than tending to their own business,” he began. “Because they were present, I’d like the physical therapy team to explain to you what happened.”
Yuen, Coffey and DuBois squirmed a little before Claudia DuBois reluctantly spoke up. “It was very unfortunate,” she said, “and we take full responsibility for the situation.” Looking down at the table, she described the crowd of curious onlookers, and said that she and the other PTs should have taken charge and removed them from the doorway.
“We’re very sorry, Dr. House,” she concluded.
“Sorry doesn’t undo the damage,” he said, curtly. “I brought you on board because you came very highly recommended. The rest of us need to know you can do your jobs with particular sensitivity and discretion. So far, I can’t say I’m impressed.”
Naveen Ajunta stole a look at the faces around the table. Some were somber; others looked taken aback. A couple were nodding their heads.
“However, this was an unusual circumstance, and I’m willing to give you all a second chance, provided everyone else around this table agrees. If we’re going to be able to help Rainie Adler, we need to be able trust each other.”
Ha. That was rich. Greg House, who hadn’t been so hot at the trusting thing before Thompson entered his life and certainly hadn’t improved since, talking about trust. He brushed aside his self-inflicted analysis.
He looked around in time to see Wilson slide into a vacant chair across the table. “What do you say? Comments? I’d like to know if any of you have reservations about continuing to work with these three.”
House took a breath. In for a dime, in for a dollar.
“Or, for that matter, with me,” he added, acknowledging unspoken concerns. He looked down at the table.
Instantly, the room became very still. No one said anything. The tension was palpable. After a very long minute, Jacey Liu, the psychiatrist, spoke up.
“Dr. House, I’m only speaking for myself, but personally I am honored to be able to be part of this team. From my standpoint as a mental health specialist, I don’t think you have done anything to be uneasy about. If you didn’t have any emotional response to Rainie Adler and what’s happened to her, then I’d be concerned.
“In my view, your own…” She paused, trying to formulate the right phrase. “…Your own personal history makes you extraordinarily right for this job. Let’s all be honest about it,” she said, looking at the faces around the table. “Every single person here knows your story. Not the details, but the outline at least. It’s not a secret. We know you’re still dealing with the aftereffects of something we can barely imagine.”
A flash of emotions flickered swiftly across House’s face. Mostly, he looked embarrassed that his personal history was common knowledge.
“This isn’t news to any of us. When we agreed to be here, we knew going in how intense and painful this would be for you. From day one, my assumption has been that part of our job would be to support you as we all go through this together.”
Several heads bobbed in agreement.
“So far, you’ve given me no reason to worry about your ability to lead us. Quite the contrary. The way you’ve conducted yourself has been exemplary. You showed courage in the face of an unimaginable nightmare, and you’re continuing to show courage now.”
The room remained silent, although the mood had shifted. House lowered his head, and seemed to be inspecting the PPTH logo on the coffee mug in front of him.
“Hear, hear,” said a quiet voice from across the table. It was Karen Langley, the orthopedist. It was seconded by Naveen Ajunta. The tension was broken. “You’ve got my support,” came another voice. Wilson just smiled as other voices chimed in. It was unanimous.
Wilson watched the scenario with considerable interest. All those years House had spent being snarky, pushing people away, making enemies, refusing to let anyone (except possibly Wilson himself) see beneath the surface, and now here he was getting public validation and support for behaving like a good guy. Poor House. He must really be confused. Served him right.
“Well,” said House, finally, still looking down. “I should have known that anyone who spends as much time around sick people as you do must have picked up some kind of exotic brain disease. I just didn’t know it was contagious.” He heard a throaty chuckle from Wilson’s side of the table. Not one of my better retorts, he thought—gotta work on the sardonic jibes.
“And what about Big Three, here?” asked House, pulling himself together and jerking his head toward the PTs. Despite his bluster, he was overwhelmed by the response. He fought back a stinging feeling behind his eyelids. Frankly, he’d fully expect a no-confidence vote, and would have been relieved if he’d gotten one. Now, he was stuck.
The PTs looked uncomfortable.
“I say we keep them on, but perhaps on a probationary basis for a while,” suggested Ajunta. Everyone, including the three, agreed that would be best.
“Good. Moving on…” said House. So they did.
* * * *
PRESS RELEASE
For Immediate Release
Dr. Gregory House of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital has been appointed to head up a team of medical professionals in charge of the long-term care of Maureen Adler, a former New York Times reporter who was admitted to PPTH last week in grave condition. Dr. House, who has a dual specialty in nephrology and infectious diseases, has been the head of the Diagnostic Medicine Department for many years. This morning, thanks to the care she has received from the medical team under Dr. House’s leadership, Ms. Adler’s condition was upgraded to critical but stable.
“We have complete confidence in Dr. House’s ability to handle this case,” said Dean of Medicine Dr. Lisa Cuddy, the hospital administrator. “He’s one of the finest doctors in the world, and Princeton Plainsboro is lucky to have him on staff. Ms. Adler is fortunate to have him in charge of her medical team. She is in the best possible hands.”
No additional information about this matter will be released to the press now or at any other time.
* * * *
PRESS RELEASE
For Immediate Release
In a unanimous decision, the board of directors of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital has requested the immediate removal from the staff of Dr. Alan Pevey, and has recommended that he be brought up before the American Medical Association on charges of endangering the lives and wellbeing of two patients. Dr. Pevey was dismissed from his duties following the meeting.
* * * *
As the team filed out of the administrative conference room, Wilson came over and sat by House. “Did you really think you were going to get out of it that easily?” he asked. “This is another fine mess you’ve gotten yourself into, and they’re not going to let you off the hook.”
House grimaced and rolled his eyes. “I hired a bunch of idiots. I’d have fired my ass.”
He staggered to his feet, gripping his crutches. After a long moment to gather his strength and get balanced, he began walking toward the door. Wilson jumped up to open it. “Age before beauty,” he said, bowing.
“Pearls before swine,” replied House, as he swept through the doorway.
* * * *
“Hey! D’ja you see this?”
Sally Juniper of Channel 2 News pointed at her computer screen. Neal Hutchins leaned over her shoulder and squinted to get a look at what she found so interesting.
“Look—PPTH just fired Pevey. Right after they announce that Dr. House is in charge of the Adler case. Do ya think?”
“What else? Legal was on the phone with their guys the minute the piece aired.”
“We’ll have to get more creative. This stuff is too good. Did you see the overnights? Our ratings went through the roof. I don’t want to let this go just `cause Pevey got his ass fired for being a jerk.”
“It’s great stuff. God, can you believe it—two people go through the same unbelievably horrific experience. And now one is the other’s doctor. Doesn’t get much better than this. It’s just great.”
They high-fived.
Stay tuned for further adventures...
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