In which Alec and House both see soemthing interesting.
Alec had just enough time to tip his head back and look up at the voice that sounded clear and pure like a bell before he fell bonelessly backward. The bell like voice was echoed by another sound, but Alec suspected that it was only the noise of he head connecting solidly with the glass surface of the conference table he'd been sitting on, while watching soaps with House.
For a second he pondered that maybe God thought he would hear better if his own brains had been knocked loose, leaving his head empty. But then he figured House would be yelling a lot louder if his brains were actually leaking. His eyes closed to look at what he was being shown. Which, lamentably, had nothing to do with whether or not Terminal Heart Patient Gilbert was finally going to get some nookie from Monica the Well Endowed Nurse. To listen to that voice that was so clear and perfect that it always shattered his mind which was far to flawed to properly house it.
When his awareness of the world expanded again it was a world of hurt. He gave a small huff of laughter at the melodrama of that and then was promptly sick. He distantly thought that he must be surrounded by a crack team of professional because he was rolled onto his side and had something shoved under his face before he actually managed to lose his lunch.
His head hurt that badly. He stayed where he was, lying on his side, and let the people bustle around him. Between Jinx and House no one in their right mind would hurt him. No one out of their mind would get the chance.
It wasn't so bad. Comparatively. The surface under his cheek was a hell of a lot cleaner that the Jam Pony floor. Thank God. Seriously. He was passing that one up through Gabriel. And those were not tears of pain running down his face. He didn't care what anyone said.
House had never seen a seizure like that. Ever. For a second, he briefly considered the fleeting idea that Alec's brain might actually be exploding, because that was as violent as the reaction was. It was soon clear that that wasn't the case, as people with exploded brains, a) were a lot messier to clean up after, and b) didn't vomit right after said explosion. It did, though, make House want to throw Alec in an MRI machine so that he could see that his brain was still intact -- just to double check. Didn't stop House from picking up a penlight to check his eyes -- Alec had no say.
"What the hell was that?"
And of course he had cat eyes aside from the round pupils, and no concussion. So the light would have shimmered a bit and his eyes reacted evenly, if a bit slow for him. "Ow." He wasn't even being a smart ass; that was just all he could come up with at the moment. He squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his arms around his head, covering his ears. The noise around him was to much. Later he would start to notice pattern in his reactions, but that wasn't going to be happening right now.
House was satisfied with the fact that his eyes were responding, and pushed at the other doctors that had crowded around them. "He's fine, go back to work. I can take care of things from here."
"But House -- " Shea began, eyes darting between her boss and her boss's friend. "For an episode like that, he really should be -- "
"I've got it," House replied, fixing her with a glare. "Don't you have my clinic hours to do? Go. Now."
Once the noise and crowd lessened Alec tried to get himself under control, but just like last time it was like crawling up hill. He thought about trying to sit up and settled for rolling to lay flat on his back, one leg hanging off the table from the knee down.
House just settled back into his seat, letting Alec get himself back together again, and waiting for him to actually talk to him.
He swallowed and pressed the heels of his hands into his temples, swallowed twice. "Pain killers?" A request like that from Alec pretty much meant he wanted to be unconscious.
"I'll call down for an order of morphine," House replied, moving back towards his office for the phone.
"Thanks." The tone was heartfelt. Alec was trying very hard to come up with an explanation besides 'bitchslapped by the hand of God', but he felt like his brain was a dried pea rattling around in an empty can.
House finished making the phone call, before moving to sit back down next to him again, tapping his cane lightly against the ground. "I repeat. What the hell was that?"
Alec turned to look at him and thought very hard about what to say. He wouldn't lie. That was one of his hard rules of self conduct. Sometimes he may keep secrets, but he wouldn't lie to the people he cared about. He hated it when he was lied to. And he hated not being trusted. "Feels like my brain is rattling."
House's head dropped to the side slightly. "Want me to do an MRI?"
"Not sure what you'd look for." He let his arms fall to his sides bonelessly. And even if House did find something, what could they possibly do about it?
"Your brain just about exploded. Even if we don't know what we're looking for, we should be able to find something."
He was quiet for a long minute, then rolled on to his side, head resting on his folded up arm and looked at House. "Looked that bad?" He knew from experience that the hurt one felt wasn't always equal to what people saw from the outside.
"Yeah," he sighed. "It looked that bad." House shifted forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. "Your response makes me think you've had one of these before, though."
"Once. I was at work. One of my friends brought me home but. . ." He shrugged one shoulder a little. "Sometimes people freak out if I sneeze funny." Which was true. He'd been so damned fragile for so long that sometimes he though people forgot he was actually built to be tough as nails.
House shook his head a bit, before sighing slightly. "They had reason to be concerned. That was far from your normal seizure."
He starts to nod, then changes his mind. "Kinda reversed."
"Reversed?"
"All in my head. Usually my head is the only think working. At least when they start."
"Huh." That was interesting. Interesting enough to make it different enough from any seizure he's ever heard of before. "You're hallucinating?"
"Matter of opinion?"
"You don't think your hallucinating?"
He bit his lip for a minute, clearly weighing his options, words and House's opinion of him. "I'm seeing shit. Stuff that I'm in no way looking at." He decided to leave it there and hope he wasn't about to be called crazy. That bothered him a way he could never properly make anyone understand.
" -- So you're dreaming?"
"Maybe? I dunno. I remember. So I dunno. I never remember dreaming if I actually do it." Was this conversation turning odd? Or was it him because he was still rattled. "I should remember if I dream, right?"
"Not always. Some people do, some people don't," House replied. "Dreaming seizures. That's one I've never heard before."
"Usually remember everything." He wasn't sure what else to say. "Do you think I should have an MRI?"
"Personally, yes, I think you should. But I won't push you. If you think you're fine, then you're fine."
"I don't know." Because he really didn't. He didn't know that the average life expectancy of a prophet was. And yeah, Gabriel would protect him from a lot, but he didn't think it was personal. Alec was the mouthpiece. He needed to remain functional until he was no longer needed. That left a lot open to interpretation.
House nodded for a moment, before looking over at him. "Then let’s do an MRI."
"'Kay." The one place in the world where he wouldn't fight the doctors.
"I'll wait till they come up with the morphine." He twirled his cane on his fingers for a moment, before his curiosity got the better of him. "So -- what do you dream about?"
"A girl. She wants to be a dancer. Not the kind she is now."
"Dreaming about a stripper?" House smirked. "Don't know whether I should be amused or disappointed."
Alec gave a ghost of one back. "Legs go from here to Heaven." Then he sobers a little. "Should be doing ballet." Two visions and he already loves her a little.
"They all should be doing something else," House replied. "But if they were, who would get men to pay them to take their clothes off."
"Always gotta be people to do the dirty work." Just didn't ever want it to be her for some reason. "Ugh. Feel sick. Maybe it's a migraine?" It was a thought. He'd heard people complain about them. Nausea, light and sound intolerance. Maybe?
One of the doctor's aides walked in with the order of morphine and House took it from him, before handing it over to Alec. "Here -- this might help."
"God I hope so." He took the pills for House and dry swallowed them.
House nodded, waiting for the meds to kick in.
And when it happened Alec gave it away by the slight sigh and relaxing of muscles he hadn't knows were tense.
"Drugs do make everything better."
"Still wouldn't want to do it for fun." But the sharp edges were nicely blunted now.
"To each their own."
He shrugged a little, still laying almost comfortably on the table. "You know how I get." Meaning damned near hysterical at times.
"Yes, I do. Which is why I'm thinking MRI sooner, rather than later."
"Okay." Yeah, it was time to stop acting like a wet noodle. He shifted and slowly started to push himself. Jinx jumped up onto the table and tucked himself under Alec's arm to help keep him balanced.
House hobbled out towards the hallway, grabbing one of the stray wheelchairs and rolling it towards him.
Alec sighed when he saw it, but knew better than to argue. Pretty much everyone here knew him well enough to not buy into the little things he did. He also knew his balance was crap right now and asking the guy with a limp and a cane to keep him upright was just plain stupid. He slid down from the table carefully and sat in the chair.
House let his cane rest against the handlebars of the wheel chair, before starting to roll him towards radiology.
"I so bet Foreman is sick of letting the hospital sink money into keeping me healthy."
"Kutner managed to work some magic with the insurance -- I don't know how but all the bills were paid."
". . .seriously?" Yeah he was impressed. "Huh." Strangely he didn't actually feel that nervous. He really had wrapped this place up around his bones while he'd been here, made it a weird sort of home.
"Yup. Or that's what they tell me anyway. Foreman's head didn't explode when you left without paying, so I figure it got paid somehow."
"Maybe he was just glad you had someone to occupy you." Alec knew House could be a menace when bored.
"Occupying me isn't his chief concern a lot of the time. Most of the time it's trying to figure out how to not have the hospital get sued because of me."
"Do you enjoy causing trouble? Or is it just like a side thing?" His head still hurt but the morphine was pressing it down enough that he appreciated having something and someone else to focus on.
"I just enjoy causing trouble for Foreman," House said with a bit of a smirk. "But most of the time, I'm getting sued because I push the limits the patients give me. Foreman understands that most of the time. That's the benefit of working for someone who's also worked under you."
Alec reached out and pet Jinx's head as they waited for the elevator. "Who else here used to work for you? Besides Kutner and Hadley. Who aren't actually here."
"Dr. Chase and Dr. Cameron," House replied. "I also had a guy named Dr. Taub -- he went back to plastic surgery when the Pulse hit and his non-compete became a non-issue."
"Chase wins points for saving my life. Cameron loses them for not letting us talk to Foreman." There was a pause as he rubbed at his temples. "A plastic surgeon?"
"A plastic surgeon who's also a fantastic diagnostician. Contrary to popular belief, not all of them are arrogant idiots."
"Well someone has to do reconstructive work. Just seems like an odd shift of interest."
"Turns out adultery is a great motivation for a change in career. As he put it, he had the affair, they signed an non-disclosure, he signed a non-compete. Firm went under right after the Pulse, he'd already told his wife about the affair, so he was pretty much in the clear when it came to going back to doing what he really enjoyed."
"Man. . .sometimes I'm almost glad I've sworn off romantic love and can't get married."
"To his credit, though -- he and his wife really do love each other. They're still married today."
He smiled a little even though House couldn't see it. "Oh I believe real love exists. In many weird forms."
"Just don't think everyone can find it?"
"Nope. And I think that makes it even better when it does work out. I also think it can get people into a lot of trouble. And sometimes the best thing you can do is walk away." Alec did not believe the Beatles.
"All very true," House said with a nod as they wheeled their way into the MRI room. "And here we go."
A few hours later, House was coming back into the conference room with his films, placing them up on the back light in order to see them better.
Alec was sprawled on the table, cat napping, most of the headache having faded at this point. He looked up when House came in. "So what's the damage do you think?" He'd never seen any of the image studies that had been done on him last time he'd been here, and he'd admit to being curious.
"No major damage, it looks like. Just a little rattling." House clearly seemed confused at the he looked over the scans and tried to compare them with what he had seen earlier. "Have you been taking anti-depressants?"
"No." He looked confused but the question. "I mean, not unless someone if slipping them into my food. People still slip vitamins into my food I'm pretty sure."
"Your brain is functioning better than it was when you were last here," House explained. "Almost like the neurotransmitters are arriving at their receptors better -- that's basically what anti-depressants do."
"Huh." He sits up and looks at the films. "Is that possible without drugs?"
"Outside of brain surgery? Nothing that I know of."
He muttered, "Been there, done that. Don't think it helped." He sighed, thinking.
House raised an eyebrow slightly, before shaking his head. "Well, you seem to be fine. No permanent damage."
"Good. 'Cause I don't think this is gonna stop." He wondered if this was Angeline's doing. The fact that his mind was running better than it used to.
"The brain working better or the violent seizures?"
"The seizures."
"Want me to try adjusting your meds?"
He thought about it and then cringed a little, not at House though. "I'm afraid that if we mess with them that the other seizures maybe a problem." And he knew that nothing was going to stop the voice to God when He had something to say.
House raised an eyebrow at that, before sighing. "Alright. Just -- be careful."
"Is it sad that I'm used to bad shit happening to me, and it doesn't bother me any more if it isn't personal?"
The older man snorted slightly, before shaking his head. "Probably not. You probably consider that as being just the way the world works at this point."
"Pretty much. I mean dude, I get shot and the first thing I think of? I'm usually pissed about my clothes."
"How many times have you been shot?"
"Five times. Which is a surprisingly low number given the number of times I've been shot at."
"Guess you've learned from the times it's actually hit."
"Well, it isn't fun. Twice it almost killed me. And totally put a nasty hole in my favorite jacket."
"I'm sure your jacket was well-mourned."
"Damn right it was." He looks shifty. "Actually I still wear it."
House chuckled. "Fix the holes?"
"Mostly. It was in the arm. Easier to lie about if people ask." He smirked "It didn't get a chance to bleed much. Dalton was a pretty good medic for a fourteen year old."
House hobbled back over to his desk, and settled down into the chair. "At least you know they trained them well."
Alec moved to one of t chairs near him. "Very true. What we know how do to we're excellent at."
"That we do," House said with a nod.
For a second he pondered that maybe God thought he would hear better if his own brains had been knocked loose, leaving his head empty. But then he figured House would be yelling a lot louder if his brains were actually leaking. His eyes closed to look at what he was being shown. Which, lamentably, had nothing to do with whether or not Terminal Heart Patient Gilbert was finally going to get some nookie from Monica the Well Endowed Nurse. To listen to that voice that was so clear and perfect that it always shattered his mind which was far to flawed to properly house it.
When his awareness of the world expanded again it was a world of hurt. He gave a small huff of laughter at the melodrama of that and then was promptly sick. He distantly thought that he must be surrounded by a crack team of professional because he was rolled onto his side and had something shoved under his face before he actually managed to lose his lunch.
His head hurt that badly. He stayed where he was, lying on his side, and let the people bustle around him. Between Jinx and House no one in their right mind would hurt him. No one out of their mind would get the chance.
It wasn't so bad. Comparatively. The surface under his cheek was a hell of a lot cleaner that the Jam Pony floor. Thank God. Seriously. He was passing that one up through Gabriel. And those were not tears of pain running down his face. He didn't care what anyone said.
House had never seen a seizure like that. Ever. For a second, he briefly considered the fleeting idea that Alec's brain might actually be exploding, because that was as violent as the reaction was. It was soon clear that that wasn't the case, as people with exploded brains, a) were a lot messier to clean up after, and b) didn't vomit right after said explosion. It did, though, make House want to throw Alec in an MRI machine so that he could see that his brain was still intact -- just to double check. Didn't stop House from picking up a penlight to check his eyes -- Alec had no say.
"What the hell was that?"
And of course he had cat eyes aside from the round pupils, and no concussion. So the light would have shimmered a bit and his eyes reacted evenly, if a bit slow for him. "Ow." He wasn't even being a smart ass; that was just all he could come up with at the moment. He squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his arms around his head, covering his ears. The noise around him was to much. Later he would start to notice pattern in his reactions, but that wasn't going to be happening right now.
House was satisfied with the fact that his eyes were responding, and pushed at the other doctors that had crowded around them. "He's fine, go back to work. I can take care of things from here."
"But House -- " Shea began, eyes darting between her boss and her boss's friend. "For an episode like that, he really should be -- "
"I've got it," House replied, fixing her with a glare. "Don't you have my clinic hours to do? Go. Now."
Once the noise and crowd lessened Alec tried to get himself under control, but just like last time it was like crawling up hill. He thought about trying to sit up and settled for rolling to lay flat on his back, one leg hanging off the table from the knee down.
House just settled back into his seat, letting Alec get himself back together again, and waiting for him to actually talk to him.
He swallowed and pressed the heels of his hands into his temples, swallowed twice. "Pain killers?" A request like that from Alec pretty much meant he wanted to be unconscious.
"I'll call down for an order of morphine," House replied, moving back towards his office for the phone.
"Thanks." The tone was heartfelt. Alec was trying very hard to come up with an explanation besides 'bitchslapped by the hand of God', but he felt like his brain was a dried pea rattling around in an empty can.
House finished making the phone call, before moving to sit back down next to him again, tapping his cane lightly against the ground. "I repeat. What the hell was that?"
Alec turned to look at him and thought very hard about what to say. He wouldn't lie. That was one of his hard rules of self conduct. Sometimes he may keep secrets, but he wouldn't lie to the people he cared about. He hated it when he was lied to. And he hated not being trusted. "Feels like my brain is rattling."
House's head dropped to the side slightly. "Want me to do an MRI?"
"Not sure what you'd look for." He let his arms fall to his sides bonelessly. And even if House did find something, what could they possibly do about it?
"Your brain just about exploded. Even if we don't know what we're looking for, we should be able to find something."
He was quiet for a long minute, then rolled on to his side, head resting on his folded up arm and looked at House. "Looked that bad?" He knew from experience that the hurt one felt wasn't always equal to what people saw from the outside.
"Yeah," he sighed. "It looked that bad." House shifted forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees. "Your response makes me think you've had one of these before, though."
"Once. I was at work. One of my friends brought me home but. . ." He shrugged one shoulder a little. "Sometimes people freak out if I sneeze funny." Which was true. He'd been so damned fragile for so long that sometimes he though people forgot he was actually built to be tough as nails.
House shook his head a bit, before sighing slightly. "They had reason to be concerned. That was far from your normal seizure."
He starts to nod, then changes his mind. "Kinda reversed."
"Reversed?"
"All in my head. Usually my head is the only think working. At least when they start."
"Huh." That was interesting. Interesting enough to make it different enough from any seizure he's ever heard of before. "You're hallucinating?"
"Matter of opinion?"
"You don't think your hallucinating?"
He bit his lip for a minute, clearly weighing his options, words and House's opinion of him. "I'm seeing shit. Stuff that I'm in no way looking at." He decided to leave it there and hope he wasn't about to be called crazy. That bothered him a way he could never properly make anyone understand.
" -- So you're dreaming?"
"Maybe? I dunno. I remember. So I dunno. I never remember dreaming if I actually do it." Was this conversation turning odd? Or was it him because he was still rattled. "I should remember if I dream, right?"
"Not always. Some people do, some people don't," House replied. "Dreaming seizures. That's one I've never heard before."
"Usually remember everything." He wasn't sure what else to say. "Do you think I should have an MRI?"
"Personally, yes, I think you should. But I won't push you. If you think you're fine, then you're fine."
"I don't know." Because he really didn't. He didn't know that the average life expectancy of a prophet was. And yeah, Gabriel would protect him from a lot, but he didn't think it was personal. Alec was the mouthpiece. He needed to remain functional until he was no longer needed. That left a lot open to interpretation.
House nodded for a moment, before looking over at him. "Then let’s do an MRI."
"'Kay." The one place in the world where he wouldn't fight the doctors.
"I'll wait till they come up with the morphine." He twirled his cane on his fingers for a moment, before his curiosity got the better of him. "So -- what do you dream about?"
"A girl. She wants to be a dancer. Not the kind she is now."
"Dreaming about a stripper?" House smirked. "Don't know whether I should be amused or disappointed."
Alec gave a ghost of one back. "Legs go from here to Heaven." Then he sobers a little. "Should be doing ballet." Two visions and he already loves her a little.
"They all should be doing something else," House replied. "But if they were, who would get men to pay them to take their clothes off."
"Always gotta be people to do the dirty work." Just didn't ever want it to be her for some reason. "Ugh. Feel sick. Maybe it's a migraine?" It was a thought. He'd heard people complain about them. Nausea, light and sound intolerance. Maybe?
One of the doctor's aides walked in with the order of morphine and House took it from him, before handing it over to Alec. "Here -- this might help."
"God I hope so." He took the pills for House and dry swallowed them.
House nodded, waiting for the meds to kick in.
And when it happened Alec gave it away by the slight sigh and relaxing of muscles he hadn't knows were tense.
"Drugs do make everything better."
"Still wouldn't want to do it for fun." But the sharp edges were nicely blunted now.
"To each their own."
He shrugged a little, still laying almost comfortably on the table. "You know how I get." Meaning damned near hysterical at times.
"Yes, I do. Which is why I'm thinking MRI sooner, rather than later."
"Okay." Yeah, it was time to stop acting like a wet noodle. He shifted and slowly started to push himself. Jinx jumped up onto the table and tucked himself under Alec's arm to help keep him balanced.
House hobbled out towards the hallway, grabbing one of the stray wheelchairs and rolling it towards him.
Alec sighed when he saw it, but knew better than to argue. Pretty much everyone here knew him well enough to not buy into the little things he did. He also knew his balance was crap right now and asking the guy with a limp and a cane to keep him upright was just plain stupid. He slid down from the table carefully and sat in the chair.
House let his cane rest against the handlebars of the wheel chair, before starting to roll him towards radiology.
"I so bet Foreman is sick of letting the hospital sink money into keeping me healthy."
"Kutner managed to work some magic with the insurance -- I don't know how but all the bills were paid."
". . .seriously?" Yeah he was impressed. "Huh." Strangely he didn't actually feel that nervous. He really had wrapped this place up around his bones while he'd been here, made it a weird sort of home.
"Yup. Or that's what they tell me anyway. Foreman's head didn't explode when you left without paying, so I figure it got paid somehow."
"Maybe he was just glad you had someone to occupy you." Alec knew House could be a menace when bored.
"Occupying me isn't his chief concern a lot of the time. Most of the time it's trying to figure out how to not have the hospital get sued because of me."
"Do you enjoy causing trouble? Or is it just like a side thing?" His head still hurt but the morphine was pressing it down enough that he appreciated having something and someone else to focus on.
"I just enjoy causing trouble for Foreman," House said with a bit of a smirk. "But most of the time, I'm getting sued because I push the limits the patients give me. Foreman understands that most of the time. That's the benefit of working for someone who's also worked under you."
Alec reached out and pet Jinx's head as they waited for the elevator. "Who else here used to work for you? Besides Kutner and Hadley. Who aren't actually here."
"Dr. Chase and Dr. Cameron," House replied. "I also had a guy named Dr. Taub -- he went back to plastic surgery when the Pulse hit and his non-compete became a non-issue."
"Chase wins points for saving my life. Cameron loses them for not letting us talk to Foreman." There was a pause as he rubbed at his temples. "A plastic surgeon?"
"A plastic surgeon who's also a fantastic diagnostician. Contrary to popular belief, not all of them are arrogant idiots."
"Well someone has to do reconstructive work. Just seems like an odd shift of interest."
"Turns out adultery is a great motivation for a change in career. As he put it, he had the affair, they signed an non-disclosure, he signed a non-compete. Firm went under right after the Pulse, he'd already told his wife about the affair, so he was pretty much in the clear when it came to going back to doing what he really enjoyed."
"Man. . .sometimes I'm almost glad I've sworn off romantic love and can't get married."
"To his credit, though -- he and his wife really do love each other. They're still married today."
He smiled a little even though House couldn't see it. "Oh I believe real love exists. In many weird forms."
"Just don't think everyone can find it?"
"Nope. And I think that makes it even better when it does work out. I also think it can get people into a lot of trouble. And sometimes the best thing you can do is walk away." Alec did not believe the Beatles.
"All very true," House said with a nod as they wheeled their way into the MRI room. "And here we go."
A few hours later, House was coming back into the conference room with his films, placing them up on the back light in order to see them better.
Alec was sprawled on the table, cat napping, most of the headache having faded at this point. He looked up when House came in. "So what's the damage do you think?" He'd never seen any of the image studies that had been done on him last time he'd been here, and he'd admit to being curious.
"No major damage, it looks like. Just a little rattling." House clearly seemed confused at the he looked over the scans and tried to compare them with what he had seen earlier. "Have you been taking anti-depressants?"
"No." He looked confused but the question. "I mean, not unless someone if slipping them into my food. People still slip vitamins into my food I'm pretty sure."
"Your brain is functioning better than it was when you were last here," House explained. "Almost like the neurotransmitters are arriving at their receptors better -- that's basically what anti-depressants do."
"Huh." He sits up and looks at the films. "Is that possible without drugs?"
"Outside of brain surgery? Nothing that I know of."
He muttered, "Been there, done that. Don't think it helped." He sighed, thinking.
House raised an eyebrow slightly, before shaking his head. "Well, you seem to be fine. No permanent damage."
"Good. 'Cause I don't think this is gonna stop." He wondered if this was Angeline's doing. The fact that his mind was running better than it used to.
"The brain working better or the violent seizures?"
"The seizures."
"Want me to try adjusting your meds?"
He thought about it and then cringed a little, not at House though. "I'm afraid that if we mess with them that the other seizures maybe a problem." And he knew that nothing was going to stop the voice to God when He had something to say.
House raised an eyebrow at that, before sighing. "Alright. Just -- be careful."
"Is it sad that I'm used to bad shit happening to me, and it doesn't bother me any more if it isn't personal?"
The older man snorted slightly, before shaking his head. "Probably not. You probably consider that as being just the way the world works at this point."
"Pretty much. I mean dude, I get shot and the first thing I think of? I'm usually pissed about my clothes."
"How many times have you been shot?"
"Five times. Which is a surprisingly low number given the number of times I've been shot at."
"Guess you've learned from the times it's actually hit."
"Well, it isn't fun. Twice it almost killed me. And totally put a nasty hole in my favorite jacket."
"I'm sure your jacket was well-mourned."
"Damn right it was." He looks shifty. "Actually I still wear it."
House chuckled. "Fix the holes?"
"Mostly. It was in the arm. Easier to lie about if people ask." He smirked "It didn't get a chance to bleed much. Dalton was a pretty good medic for a fourteen year old."
House hobbled back over to his desk, and settled down into the chair. "At least you know they trained them well."
Alec moved to one of t chairs near him. "Very true. What we know how do to we're excellent at."
"That we do," House said with a nod.