Abandonment (6/9)
Chapter 5
Chapter 6:
Dr. Lisa Cuddy woke to a white ceiling, hard bed and the smell of disinfectant. She groggily opened her eyes and looked around, wondering why she was in the hospital, her hospital. Then it all came back to her like a bad dream. God, she couldn’t believe what she had been doing!
“Good Morning Dr. Cuddy.” Foreman responded with an insincere smile and unnaturally cheery voice. It didn’t bother her that he was being insincere, that was just Foreman. “How are you feeling?” He asked while checking her neurological responses.
“Uh, fine.” She answered, honestly unsure how she was feeling. “A little groggy.” She added for lack of anything else better to say.
“That’s to be expected.” Foreman answered nonchalantly. “We found a tumor on your Prefrontal Cortex, putting pressure on your brain and altering your personality. The bigger it grew, the more it altered.” He explained while checking and writing in her chart.
She moved to sit up but then realized that her wrists and ankles were strapped in restraints. “Why am I restrained?”
Foreman observed her for a moment, deciding whether or not he should give her the truth, before he answered. “You were having a psychotic break. We had to bring you in here in restraints and thought it best to keep you there and make sure you were you before we released you.” He answered unflinchingly.
Cuddy listened to what she was being told, connecting the bad dreams with the events that had passed. She let out a gasp, instinctively trying to bring her hand to her mouth before the restraints stopped her. “Oh my god.” She said, capturing Foreman’s attention and interest. “Is Wilson alright?” She asked remembering all that she had done to him, not only physically but emotionally as well.
“He’ll be fine.” Foreman responded with a surprisingly assuring smile while he undid her restraints. “He’s actually been the one handling your care. Well, besides me. He insists on doing so until you say otherwise.” He said resignedly. Apparently he didn’t think it was a good idea.
“You don’t think he should?” She asked interested in his opinion, knowing he’d give her an unbiased one. She raised the head of her bed up so she wasn’t lying flat on her back.
“No.” He said simply. “I realize and admit that he is one of the best Oncologist’s in Princeton, possibly in the country but he is sick as well and weak. He shouldn’t be doing anything but letting the medicine do its job and his staff do its.” Foreman didn’t actually know if Wilson was still weak since he hadn’t checked on him lately but he assumed he was.
She listened attentively, nodding her head in understanding. Of course she knew that Wilson was ill (barely able to breathe last she heard) but she was also selfish and wanted the best handling her case. “What does House think? And where is he?” She asked though not really expecting an answer to the latter; she knew she had ruined any chance of him choosing her over Wilson, not that she actually wanted him to have to choose.
“House is going along with it claiming that it would stress Wilson’s heart too much not to be a part of the case.” He responded, doubt in his voice.
“You don’t agree.” She said, her voice flat and emotionless. It was a statement of fact. She vaguely remembered House mentioning Wilson having heart problems but she didn’t really ask the details. Her brain quickly ran through the options, knowing that House was probably right but not understanding why he was giving in so easily just because it was Wilson. The rate he went to have the oncologist admitted suggests that he’s seriously worried about Wilson’s health and therefore wouldn’t normally back down on letting Wilson NOT work for weeks. She also had her own reservations with Wilson treating her. She felt more guilty about what she did to Wilson than anything she could remember (and that included crippling the young man who fixed her roof 6 years ago!) because he was not only her friend but a great person and House’s friend as well. She wanted to make sure he actually WANTED to treat her instead of feeling like he had to for reasons of his own. “I’d like to talk to Wilson or House.” She said realizing that the request to speak to Wilson alone would be rebuked for several reasons but thinking if she added House it would actually happen.
Foreman hesitated, pondering how to answer her request. “Why don’t you rest for a little while longer?” He suggested, putting her chart back down at the bottom of her bed. “I’ll see what I can work out.”
Cuddy felt her heart sink. Foreman’s response meant that either House didn’t want anything to do with her OR he didn’t want to leave Wilson’s side. She felt her heart squeeze painfully at either option though she wouldn’t admit it to the second. It made sense for him to be glued to his best friend’s side. House loses contact with him (per her request/demand) and he gets injured and then seriously ill; it’s enough to scare anyone, including House.
She didn’t think that she would be able to speak to Wilson unless she was the one who went to him. He was very very weak the last time she saw him, barely able to move or breathe, and she didn’t think that that would change any time soon. She also knew that security wouldn’t allow her in a room with him, let alone House. He had been very protective of Wilson when she had been there earlier and it has more than likely increased by a factor of a Mole since then. Cuddy laughed at herself in her head for using the Mole comparison. How did she remember these things from chemistry?!
She looked up to realize that Foreman had been watching her either for a nod of consent or for her reaction. She gave him a smile. “I think that sounds like a good idea.” She conceded, not realizing just how tired she felt. Her mind was becoming fuzzy and clouded; no doubt from the pain killers that were coursing through her IV. “When will I be able to get up and move around?”
“Let’s just take it one day at a time and see how you feel.” Foreman suggested not unkindly before he walked out leaving Cuddy to drift off to a deep and pain-free sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Foreman walked into Wilson’s room, not at all surprised to find House holding Wilson’s hand while taking a nap. Chase had told him what he had seen and Foreman had grudgingly paid him the $100 he owed from the bet.
He walked up to Wilson’s bed and checked his chart. Wilson’s breathing had become easier and he no longer needed a nebulizer treatment or a shot of epi every other time he was awake. He seemed to be gaining some strength back as well, being able to eat an entire cup of broth as well as stay awake for an hour at a time. ALL of which was good and more than likely meant that he’d be willing to try to see Cuddy at her request. Damn! Foreman thought. He’d wanted to keep the oncologist away from Cuddy as long as possible; not for his protection though since he didn’t fear Cuddy trying to hurt him again but for House’s mood. Any time House was in a good mood made the rest of their lives easier.
Wilson stirred, having sensed someone was there and sleepily opened his eyes. The head of his bed had been raised so he could breathe easier and therefore he was able to see Foreman clearly. “Hey.” He greeted, mentally shaking the shroud of fog that occupied his brain. “Do you need something?” He asked quietly, not wanting to wake House.
“Yeah but I should wake House first though so I don’t have to repeat everything twice.” Foreman replied while he grabbed House’s cane and poked him. “Better to be at a safe distance when poking a sleeping bear” he thought. House stirred, glaring at the intruder. “Cuddy woke.” Foreman said.
“Is that all, I’m going back to sleep?” He said sleepily and grumpily.“She wants to see you or Wilson.” Foreman told him persistently knowing it would capture the groggy diagnostician’s attention.
It didn’t disappoint; House’s head snapped up so fast Foreman thought he gave himself whiplash, his eyes focusing on Foreman with an icy glare. “What did you tell her?”
“I suggested that she get some more rest and that I’d see what I could do.” Foreman admitted plainly.
“Good.” House told him. “When she wakes again, tell her that her request has been denied.” He growled.
“House,” Wilson argued, “if she wants to see me, she should be allowed. I am her doctor.”
“You are in no shape to be going anywhere and neither is she.” House argued back, pointing his finger gently in Wilson’s chest.
“Actually, it might do him good to get out of bed and take a ride around the hospital in a wheelchair.” Foreman replied. While he didn’t want to encourage Wilson, the man did have a point. If Cuddy wanted to speak to her doctor about her case, she should be allowed and Wilson was healthy enough to get around in a wheelchair, providing he kept the visit short.
House glared at Foreman. “You aren’t his doctor.” He warned.
“No, but I am.” Chase said, coming in. He had been standing in the doorway listening to the entire conversation.
“I didn’t know wombats were known for their eavesdropping.” House scolded sarcastically.
Busted! “Well, it’s a good thing I did.” Chase offered, not taking his scolding too seriously. “I agree with Foreman; it would probably do Wilson some good to get out of his bed, providing he stayed IN the wheelchair and kept the visit as short as possible. I don’t want you gone longer than an hour.” He said, looking more at Wilson than House, making sure the older doctor understood.
“I think we’re being ganged up on Wilson. You take the wombat, he likes the pretty ones, and I’ll take on the black guy.” House snarked. “Ready?”
“WE aren’t being ganged up on.” Wilson reminded him with the tone of a parent reminding their child to clean their room. “You are.” He looked at Foreman. “Let me know when she wakes again and have someone come and help me get there, in a wheelchair.” He added the latter part of the sentence at a strong look from Chase. Wilson thought it had been implied but clearly the blond surgeon wasn’t going to be tricked later on.
Foreman nodded and walked out with Chase, who knew he was no longer needed. House studied Wilson hard, making the younger man squirm a little in bed. Wilson thought he was he was in for one of House’s “You’re an Idiot!” speeches and though he knew it was unwarranted, he gladly prepared for it knowing it was one of House’s ways to show that (in Wilson’s case at least) he cared. He was pleasantly surprised when instead of the speech House asked, “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes.” Wilson answered knowing immediately what his answer would be. “She’s not going to do anything and she needs her doctor.”
“I’m not worried about her doing something.” Wilson frowned slightly. “No, idiot! I know she’ll be too weak still and you won’t be that close to her nor will you be alone.” House amended upon noticing Wilson’s frown, his tone implying he’d be going with Wilson. “I’m more concerned with your own health; you’ve only begun getting better. Don’t you think a trip to the ICU is too much too soon?”
Wilson laughed, “Be careful House, you’re starting to sound like a concerned family member.” He joked, looking at House for a moment. “Since when did you get all conservative with Patient Care?” He asked smiling.
House smiled at his joke before his face went sincere. “Since the patient became you.”
Wilson was touchingly stunned. He hadn’t expected that answer to come out of House’s mouth though he knew that was the reason. “House,” he began, grabbing the older man’s hand and giving it a light but reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be fine. I’m feeling a lot better and a little trip to the ICU won’t make me any sicker than I already am.” He waited a few minutes to let the other man absorb the words before he changed the subject. “Now, I believe it’s time for you to go eat, take a shower and go to work or sleep. None of which, can you do here. Go, I’m going to finish napping and sitting in that chair has got to be killing your leg.”
House opened his mouth to argue but apparently his brain agreed with Wilson. “Fine, it’s boring to sit here and watch you sleep all the time anyways.” He dismissed while he stood up, stretching his leg a little before he began walking. It had begun to cramp up and only use would help loosen the ruined muscle.
“Bye House.” Wilson called sleepily.
“Page me if you need me.” Was all House replied as he walked out the door.
Chapter 7
Chapter 6:
Dr. Lisa Cuddy woke to a white ceiling, hard bed and the smell of disinfectant. She groggily opened her eyes and looked around, wondering why she was in the hospital, her hospital. Then it all came back to her like a bad dream. God, she couldn’t believe what she had been doing!
“Good Morning Dr. Cuddy.” Foreman responded with an insincere smile and unnaturally cheery voice. It didn’t bother her that he was being insincere, that was just Foreman. “How are you feeling?” He asked while checking her neurological responses.
“Uh, fine.” She answered, honestly unsure how she was feeling. “A little groggy.” She added for lack of anything else better to say.
“That’s to be expected.” Foreman answered nonchalantly. “We found a tumor on your Prefrontal Cortex, putting pressure on your brain and altering your personality. The bigger it grew, the more it altered.” He explained while checking and writing in her chart.
She moved to sit up but then realized that her wrists and ankles were strapped in restraints. “Why am I restrained?”
Foreman observed her for a moment, deciding whether or not he should give her the truth, before he answered. “You were having a psychotic break. We had to bring you in here in restraints and thought it best to keep you there and make sure you were you before we released you.” He answered unflinchingly.
Cuddy listened to what she was being told, connecting the bad dreams with the events that had passed. She let out a gasp, instinctively trying to bring her hand to her mouth before the restraints stopped her. “Oh my god.” She said, capturing Foreman’s attention and interest. “Is Wilson alright?” She asked remembering all that she had done to him, not only physically but emotionally as well.
“He’ll be fine.” Foreman responded with a surprisingly assuring smile while he undid her restraints. “He’s actually been the one handling your care. Well, besides me. He insists on doing so until you say otherwise.” He said resignedly. Apparently he didn’t think it was a good idea.
“You don’t think he should?” She asked interested in his opinion, knowing he’d give her an unbiased one. She raised the head of her bed up so she wasn’t lying flat on her back.
“No.” He said simply. “I realize and admit that he is one of the best Oncologist’s in Princeton, possibly in the country but he is sick as well and weak. He shouldn’t be doing anything but letting the medicine do its job and his staff do its.” Foreman didn’t actually know if Wilson was still weak since he hadn’t checked on him lately but he assumed he was.
She listened attentively, nodding her head in understanding. Of course she knew that Wilson was ill (barely able to breathe last she heard) but she was also selfish and wanted the best handling her case. “What does House think? And where is he?” She asked though not really expecting an answer to the latter; she knew she had ruined any chance of him choosing her over Wilson, not that she actually wanted him to have to choose.
“House is going along with it claiming that it would stress Wilson’s heart too much not to be a part of the case.” He responded, doubt in his voice.
“You don’t agree.” She said, her voice flat and emotionless. It was a statement of fact. She vaguely remembered House mentioning Wilson having heart problems but she didn’t really ask the details. Her brain quickly ran through the options, knowing that House was probably right but not understanding why he was giving in so easily just because it was Wilson. The rate he went to have the oncologist admitted suggests that he’s seriously worried about Wilson’s health and therefore wouldn’t normally back down on letting Wilson NOT work for weeks. She also had her own reservations with Wilson treating her. She felt more guilty about what she did to Wilson than anything she could remember (and that included crippling the young man who fixed her roof 6 years ago!) because he was not only her friend but a great person and House’s friend as well. She wanted to make sure he actually WANTED to treat her instead of feeling like he had to for reasons of his own. “I’d like to talk to Wilson or House.” She said realizing that the request to speak to Wilson alone would be rebuked for several reasons but thinking if she added House it would actually happen.
Foreman hesitated, pondering how to answer her request. “Why don’t you rest for a little while longer?” He suggested, putting her chart back down at the bottom of her bed. “I’ll see what I can work out.”
Cuddy felt her heart sink. Foreman’s response meant that either House didn’t want anything to do with her OR he didn’t want to leave Wilson’s side. She felt her heart squeeze painfully at either option though she wouldn’t admit it to the second. It made sense for him to be glued to his best friend’s side. House loses contact with him (per her request/demand) and he gets injured and then seriously ill; it’s enough to scare anyone, including House.
She didn’t think that she would be able to speak to Wilson unless she was the one who went to him. He was very very weak the last time she saw him, barely able to move or breathe, and she didn’t think that that would change any time soon. She also knew that security wouldn’t allow her in a room with him, let alone House. He had been very protective of Wilson when she had been there earlier and it has more than likely increased by a factor of a Mole since then. Cuddy laughed at herself in her head for using the Mole comparison. How did she remember these things from chemistry?!
She looked up to realize that Foreman had been watching her either for a nod of consent or for her reaction. She gave him a smile. “I think that sounds like a good idea.” She conceded, not realizing just how tired she felt. Her mind was becoming fuzzy and clouded; no doubt from the pain killers that were coursing through her IV. “When will I be able to get up and move around?”
“Let’s just take it one day at a time and see how you feel.” Foreman suggested not unkindly before he walked out leaving Cuddy to drift off to a deep and pain-free sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~
Foreman walked into Wilson’s room, not at all surprised to find House holding Wilson’s hand while taking a nap. Chase had told him what he had seen and Foreman had grudgingly paid him the $100 he owed from the bet.
He walked up to Wilson’s bed and checked his chart. Wilson’s breathing had become easier and he no longer needed a nebulizer treatment or a shot of epi every other time he was awake. He seemed to be gaining some strength back as well, being able to eat an entire cup of broth as well as stay awake for an hour at a time. ALL of which was good and more than likely meant that he’d be willing to try to see Cuddy at her request. Damn! Foreman thought. He’d wanted to keep the oncologist away from Cuddy as long as possible; not for his protection though since he didn’t fear Cuddy trying to hurt him again but for House’s mood. Any time House was in a good mood made the rest of their lives easier.
Wilson stirred, having sensed someone was there and sleepily opened his eyes. The head of his bed had been raised so he could breathe easier and therefore he was able to see Foreman clearly. “Hey.” He greeted, mentally shaking the shroud of fog that occupied his brain. “Do you need something?” He asked quietly, not wanting to wake House.
“Yeah but I should wake House first though so I don’t have to repeat everything twice.” Foreman replied while he grabbed House’s cane and poked him. “Better to be at a safe distance when poking a sleeping bear” he thought. House stirred, glaring at the intruder. “Cuddy woke.” Foreman said.
“Is that all, I’m going back to sleep?” He said sleepily and grumpily.“She wants to see you or Wilson.” Foreman told him persistently knowing it would capture the groggy diagnostician’s attention.
It didn’t disappoint; House’s head snapped up so fast Foreman thought he gave himself whiplash, his eyes focusing on Foreman with an icy glare. “What did you tell her?”
“I suggested that she get some more rest and that I’d see what I could do.” Foreman admitted plainly.
“Good.” House told him. “When she wakes again, tell her that her request has been denied.” He growled.
“House,” Wilson argued, “if she wants to see me, she should be allowed. I am her doctor.”
“You are in no shape to be going anywhere and neither is she.” House argued back, pointing his finger gently in Wilson’s chest.
“Actually, it might do him good to get out of bed and take a ride around the hospital in a wheelchair.” Foreman replied. While he didn’t want to encourage Wilson, the man did have a point. If Cuddy wanted to speak to her doctor about her case, she should be allowed and Wilson was healthy enough to get around in a wheelchair, providing he kept the visit short.
House glared at Foreman. “You aren’t his doctor.” He warned.
“No, but I am.” Chase said, coming in. He had been standing in the doorway listening to the entire conversation.
“I didn’t know wombats were known for their eavesdropping.” House scolded sarcastically.
Busted! “Well, it’s a good thing I did.” Chase offered, not taking his scolding too seriously. “I agree with Foreman; it would probably do Wilson some good to get out of his bed, providing he stayed IN the wheelchair and kept the visit as short as possible. I don’t want you gone longer than an hour.” He said, looking more at Wilson than House, making sure the older doctor understood.
“I think we’re being ganged up on Wilson. You take the wombat, he likes the pretty ones, and I’ll take on the black guy.” House snarked. “Ready?”
“WE aren’t being ganged up on.” Wilson reminded him with the tone of a parent reminding their child to clean their room. “You are.” He looked at Foreman. “Let me know when she wakes again and have someone come and help me get there, in a wheelchair.” He added the latter part of the sentence at a strong look from Chase. Wilson thought it had been implied but clearly the blond surgeon wasn’t going to be tricked later on.
Foreman nodded and walked out with Chase, who knew he was no longer needed. House studied Wilson hard, making the younger man squirm a little in bed. Wilson thought he was he was in for one of House’s “You’re an Idiot!” speeches and though he knew it was unwarranted, he gladly prepared for it knowing it was one of House’s ways to show that (in Wilson’s case at least) he cared. He was pleasantly surprised when instead of the speech House asked, “Are you sure about this?”
“Yes.” Wilson answered knowing immediately what his answer would be. “She’s not going to do anything and she needs her doctor.”
“I’m not worried about her doing something.” Wilson frowned slightly. “No, idiot! I know she’ll be too weak still and you won’t be that close to her nor will you be alone.” House amended upon noticing Wilson’s frown, his tone implying he’d be going with Wilson. “I’m more concerned with your own health; you’ve only begun getting better. Don’t you think a trip to the ICU is too much too soon?”
Wilson laughed, “Be careful House, you’re starting to sound like a concerned family member.” He joked, looking at House for a moment. “Since when did you get all conservative with Patient Care?” He asked smiling.
House smiled at his joke before his face went sincere. “Since the patient became you.”
Wilson was touchingly stunned. He hadn’t expected that answer to come out of House’s mouth though he knew that was the reason. “House,” he began, grabbing the older man’s hand and giving it a light but reassuring squeeze. “I’ll be fine. I’m feeling a lot better and a little trip to the ICU won’t make me any sicker than I already am.” He waited a few minutes to let the other man absorb the words before he changed the subject. “Now, I believe it’s time for you to go eat, take a shower and go to work or sleep. None of which, can you do here. Go, I’m going to finish napping and sitting in that chair has got to be killing your leg.”
House opened his mouth to argue but apparently his brain agreed with Wilson. “Fine, it’s boring to sit here and watch you sleep all the time anyways.” He dismissed while he stood up, stretching his leg a little before he began walking. It had begun to cramp up and only use would help loosen the ruined muscle.
“Bye House.” Wilson called sleepily.
“Page me if you need me.” Was all House replied as he walked out the door.
Chapter 7