A god awful tie (Ch 10/?)
Title: A god awful tie... (ch 10/?)
Pairing: House/Cuddy, Foreman/Cameron
Author: alanwolfmoon
Rating: PG-13-ish
Summary: House treats some odd diseases, but even he doesn't know the cure to the one affecting PPTH
Disclaimer: MINE! ALL MINE!....uh, no. Not mine.
Notes: Reviews and flames alike are welcome. (They make it look like I'm writing fast)
“House? Are we gonna be allowed to help?” asked Cuddy from the back of the car.
“I don’t have a problem with it, other people might. You all know the ideas, you just won’t be able to tell people what you’re thinking. Though Chase and Wilson should probably-”
Wilson stuck out his chin.
“N-n-nuh-uh. G-g-gonna help.”
House shrugged.
“It’s going to be noisy.”
Wilson deflated somewhat.
“Anyway, we’ll see.”
Cuddy nodded.
By the time they got to the hospital the parking lot was full of cars, ambulances, people... Foreman was glad House had a limp; they wouldn’t have been able to get at the door from the non-handicapped parking spaces.
House ignored it when Foreman dumped Cameron with him, hurrying towards the nurse’s station.
Cuddy seemed a little confused, but Cameron whispered something in her ear, and her expression cleared.
Wilson hid his face in House’s shirt, covering his ears against the noise of over a hundred people standing in the lobby.
“Dr. House! Over here!” yelled a guy House vaguely recognized as belonging to the oncology department.
“What’s the deal? Princeton General closed for Christmas?” asked House, looking around at the ridiculous number of people packed into the area.
“We’re the only place within two hours drive that has a burn team still made up of adults.”
House groaned.
“Here. Dunno how many people will let kids treat them, but we’ve got kid sized gloves if they want to try.”
Cuddy took the box, handing some to Chase and Cameron.
House looked at Wilson, who shook his head.
“Is Dr. Foreman here yet?” asked Denis the oncology guy, glancing around.
“Yeah, he should be ready to help as soon as he finds out if his parents are ok.”
Denis nodded.
“Ok, then I’ll set up five exam tables.”
House blinked. He hadn’t remembered Denis being quite that assertive.
Wilson looked up at him.
“He’s running the d-d-department.”
House raised his eyebrows, sighed, and pulled a chair out of the corner for Wilson to sit on.
An hour’s passing found them standing in a row, Chase sitting with Wilson, having found that three was a little too young for people to feel comfortable with him examining them, Cameron and Cuddy both standing on chairs in front of lowered exam tables, House and Foreman with ones at normal height.
“So, what’d they say?” asked House, as he sent yet another old lady off for chest x-ray.
Foreman blinked.
House rolled his eyes.
“Next question: are you gonna be all cranky for the next month?”
Foreman sighed.
“Mom’s ok, Dad’s got some smoke inhalation.”
“Ok then, no whining. Yay.”
Foreman snorted, then frowned.
“Wasn’t your dad staying there too?”
“Could’ve been.”
“He said he was. When we ran into him at the grocery store.”
“Oh.”
Foreman gave up, finishing the sutures on some guy’s arm.
“Are you kidding me?! I’m not gonna get treated by a four year old!” shouted another guy, standing in front of Cuddy.
She crossed her arms, fixing him with the miniature version of her Not. Happy.™ look.
“I’m five. And if you don’t like it, go around and wait in Dr. House’s line.”
The guy continued to glare at her.
“Move it, other people waiting.” said House, watching him out of the corner of his eyes.
“I’m not waiting in another fricking long line! I’ve waited long enough!”
House sighed, turning away from his own patient.
“Look, she knows everything she did when she was an adult. She’s the dean of medicine, and she’s a good doctor. Either let her treat you or got to the back of the line.”
“No.”
House rolled his eyes, reaching for his phone to page security.
Cuddy snapped on a pair of gloves, glaring straight at the guy.
“You’re not here for smoke inhalation or burns. You’re here for an unrelated symptom, and it involves pulling down your pants. You don’t want me to treat you because you don’t want to show a five year old girl your penis. Sorry, but if it’s not from the fire, you have to get it treated another time.”
The guy looked like he was getting pretty angry.
“It’s not unrelated. It’s from the fire. And I’m not waiting. It goddamn hurts!”
House turned back to his patient, smirking. The guy wasn’t a troublemaker, he was just embarrassed and in pain. He spun back around, as he heard a smack and a thump.
The guy seemed to have slapped Cuddy, not very hard judging by the sound, but it had been hard enough to knock her off the chair. She curled around her arm, crying.
As obvious as it was from the guy’s horrified expression that he hadn’t meant to hurt her, House didn’t see it. Nor did anybody else who looked after House had turned, because the guy’s expression changed from one of shock and remorse to one of extreme agony almost immediately. Then it went red, and he slung his fist around, knocking House down as well. He didn’t look quite so horrified that time.
Somebody re-directed the people in House and Cuddy’s lines, as Denis directed someone to get House and Cuddy to an exam room, and for security to get the out of control patient.
Foreman watched, slightly worried, but also slightly amused. That was twice now, that House had acted extremely protective of the kids.
Several days later....
House groaned, reaching over Cuddy’s sleeping form to answer the phone-or at least pull it out of the wall so it would stop ringing. Somehow he didn’t reach quite high or far enough, and he ended up gripping Cuddy’s nightshirt. He frowned. It seemed...tight. He opened his eyes, then let got very quickly, as he realized he was holding a adult sized shoulder.
She stared at him.
“What happened?”
“What happened you don’t remember, or what happened you don’t understand?”
“Don’t understand.”
“Darn, I can’t pretend I got you drunk and slept with you.”
She paused, then laughed.
“Would you have if the answer had been different?”
House sighed.
“Probably not.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“You wouldn’t have?”
He shrugged.
“I just spent the last three months basically being your parent. Some amount of responsibility seems to be lingering.”
She smiled, shaking her head.
“Thanks, House. You didn’t have to.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Didn’t have much choice.”
She shook her head.
“Yes, yes you did. You could easily just left me under the desk for someone else to deal with. Your team, Wilson, those people you actually had a responsibility towards. Not me.”
House sighed.
“I didn’t do it because I wanted to, I did it because I thought you’d be more help than harm.”
She tilted her head a little, as he got up, digging through his drawers for a big-person-sized shirt.
“You thought I’d be helpful?”
He shrugged non-committally, back still facing her.
“You thought I’d be helpful with children.”
He sighed, tossing a shirt and a pair of sweatpants to her.
“I thought you wouldn’t be a nuisance, now can we drop it?”
“You thought I’d be helpful with children.” she repeated, calmly.
House turned back to the drawers.
“Look, I was detoxing. Ok? I was in pain, I was detoxing, I was losing a patient. I had to take it out on somebody. I thought it was your fault I was losing the patient, and I thought it was justified. That didn’t make it true.”
He jumped, as she placed her arms around his shoulders, resting her head against his back.
“It’s ok, House. I knew you were in pain, I knew you were upset. And now I know you didn’t even think the statement was true.”
He turned, looking at her, and he could feel himself blushing a little.
She smiled, and leaned forward, kissing him gently on the lips.
He blinked, as he tasted salt and copper... her lips tasted like blood. He pulled back, to see blood trickling down the side of her face, her eyes pained and one pupil wide.
“What the hell?! What happened?!”
“I knew that. But it still hurt me.”
She collapsed against him, and he had to hold her up, she would hurt if she fell, but his leg wouldn’t hold the extra weight, he went down with her, he couldn’t move, it hurt, he couldn’t help her, he couldn’t think, it hurt too much, he couldn’t-
House sat up, breathing heavily, eyes wide.
He blinked, still panting, as he looked around. He was lying on a recliner. In his office. With five year old Cuddy snoring peacefully in his lap. The same situation as an hour ago, when he had been sat in the chair with a grade one concussion, a large bruise on his jaw, and a heating pad on his bad leg to help with the cramping from the fall.
House sighed, resting his head back against the leather, one hand absently rubbing Cuddy’s back.
What he heck had that dream been about? Did he really feel that bad about what he had said?
“House?”
House blinked, looking down at Cuddy.
“Are you ok? The nurse that got me an x-ray said you hit your head and fell funny on your leg....”
“Yeah Cuddy, I’m fine.”
Cuddy watched him for a moment, green eyes completely innocent and worried.
She climbed down off his lap, heaved the door to the differential room open one handed, dragged a chair to the sink, filled his red mug with water and picked up a washcloth.
House sighed, as five year old Cuddy wiped off the little bit of dried blood trailing from where his lip had split.
“You didn’t have to do that.” she informed him, looking deadly serious.
“I didn’t really think about have to and don’t have to. Otherwise I wouldn’t have done it.”
She blinked.
Then she smiled a little, wedged the cup in a fold of padding, and snuggled comfortably on top of him, closing her eyes.
House felt a smile twitching on his lips.
Pairing: House/Cuddy, Foreman/Cameron
Author: alanwolfmoon
Rating: PG-13-ish
Summary: House treats some odd diseases, but even he doesn't know the cure to the one affecting PPTH
Disclaimer: MINE! ALL MINE!....uh, no. Not mine.
Notes: Reviews and flames alike are welcome. (They make it look like I'm writing fast)
“House? Are we gonna be allowed to help?” asked Cuddy from the back of the car.
“I don’t have a problem with it, other people might. You all know the ideas, you just won’t be able to tell people what you’re thinking. Though Chase and Wilson should probably-”
Wilson stuck out his chin.
“N-n-nuh-uh. G-g-gonna help.”
House shrugged.
“It’s going to be noisy.”
Wilson deflated somewhat.
“Anyway, we’ll see.”
Cuddy nodded.
By the time they got to the hospital the parking lot was full of cars, ambulances, people... Foreman was glad House had a limp; they wouldn’t have been able to get at the door from the non-handicapped parking spaces.
House ignored it when Foreman dumped Cameron with him, hurrying towards the nurse’s station.
Cuddy seemed a little confused, but Cameron whispered something in her ear, and her expression cleared.
Wilson hid his face in House’s shirt, covering his ears against the noise of over a hundred people standing in the lobby.
“Dr. House! Over here!” yelled a guy House vaguely recognized as belonging to the oncology department.
“What’s the deal? Princeton General closed for Christmas?” asked House, looking around at the ridiculous number of people packed into the area.
“We’re the only place within two hours drive that has a burn team still made up of adults.”
House groaned.
“Here. Dunno how many people will let kids treat them, but we’ve got kid sized gloves if they want to try.”
Cuddy took the box, handing some to Chase and Cameron.
House looked at Wilson, who shook his head.
“Is Dr. Foreman here yet?” asked Denis the oncology guy, glancing around.
“Yeah, he should be ready to help as soon as he finds out if his parents are ok.”
Denis nodded.
“Ok, then I’ll set up five exam tables.”
House blinked. He hadn’t remembered Denis being quite that assertive.
Wilson looked up at him.
“He’s running the d-d-department.”
House raised his eyebrows, sighed, and pulled a chair out of the corner for Wilson to sit on.
An hour’s passing found them standing in a row, Chase sitting with Wilson, having found that three was a little too young for people to feel comfortable with him examining them, Cameron and Cuddy both standing on chairs in front of lowered exam tables, House and Foreman with ones at normal height.
“So, what’d they say?” asked House, as he sent yet another old lady off for chest x-ray.
Foreman blinked.
House rolled his eyes.
“Next question: are you gonna be all cranky for the next month?”
Foreman sighed.
“Mom’s ok, Dad’s got some smoke inhalation.”
“Ok then, no whining. Yay.”
Foreman snorted, then frowned.
“Wasn’t your dad staying there too?”
“Could’ve been.”
“He said he was. When we ran into him at the grocery store.”
“Oh.”
Foreman gave up, finishing the sutures on some guy’s arm.
“Are you kidding me?! I’m not gonna get treated by a four year old!” shouted another guy, standing in front of Cuddy.
She crossed her arms, fixing him with the miniature version of her Not. Happy.™ look.
“I’m five. And if you don’t like it, go around and wait in Dr. House’s line.”
The guy continued to glare at her.
“Move it, other people waiting.” said House, watching him out of the corner of his eyes.
“I’m not waiting in another fricking long line! I’ve waited long enough!”
House sighed, turning away from his own patient.
“Look, she knows everything she did when she was an adult. She’s the dean of medicine, and she’s a good doctor. Either let her treat you or got to the back of the line.”
“No.”
House rolled his eyes, reaching for his phone to page security.
Cuddy snapped on a pair of gloves, glaring straight at the guy.
“You’re not here for smoke inhalation or burns. You’re here for an unrelated symptom, and it involves pulling down your pants. You don’t want me to treat you because you don’t want to show a five year old girl your penis. Sorry, but if it’s not from the fire, you have to get it treated another time.”
The guy looked like he was getting pretty angry.
“It’s not unrelated. It’s from the fire. And I’m not waiting. It goddamn hurts!”
House turned back to his patient, smirking. The guy wasn’t a troublemaker, he was just embarrassed and in pain. He spun back around, as he heard a smack and a thump.
The guy seemed to have slapped Cuddy, not very hard judging by the sound, but it had been hard enough to knock her off the chair. She curled around her arm, crying.
As obvious as it was from the guy’s horrified expression that he hadn’t meant to hurt her, House didn’t see it. Nor did anybody else who looked after House had turned, because the guy’s expression changed from one of shock and remorse to one of extreme agony almost immediately. Then it went red, and he slung his fist around, knocking House down as well. He didn’t look quite so horrified that time.
Somebody re-directed the people in House and Cuddy’s lines, as Denis directed someone to get House and Cuddy to an exam room, and for security to get the out of control patient.
Foreman watched, slightly worried, but also slightly amused. That was twice now, that House had acted extremely protective of the kids.
Several days later....
House groaned, reaching over Cuddy’s sleeping form to answer the phone-or at least pull it out of the wall so it would stop ringing. Somehow he didn’t reach quite high or far enough, and he ended up gripping Cuddy’s nightshirt. He frowned. It seemed...tight. He opened his eyes, then let got very quickly, as he realized he was holding a adult sized shoulder.
She stared at him.
“What happened?”
“What happened you don’t remember, or what happened you don’t understand?”
“Don’t understand.”
“Darn, I can’t pretend I got you drunk and slept with you.”
She paused, then laughed.
“Would you have if the answer had been different?”
House sighed.
“Probably not.”
She raised her eyebrows.
“You wouldn’t have?”
He shrugged.
“I just spent the last three months basically being your parent. Some amount of responsibility seems to be lingering.”
She smiled, shaking her head.
“Thanks, House. You didn’t have to.”
He rolled his eyes.
“Didn’t have much choice.”
She shook her head.
“Yes, yes you did. You could easily just left me under the desk for someone else to deal with. Your team, Wilson, those people you actually had a responsibility towards. Not me.”
House sighed.
“I didn’t do it because I wanted to, I did it because I thought you’d be more help than harm.”
She tilted her head a little, as he got up, digging through his drawers for a big-person-sized shirt.
“You thought I’d be helpful?”
He shrugged non-committally, back still facing her.
“You thought I’d be helpful with children.”
He sighed, tossing a shirt and a pair of sweatpants to her.
“I thought you wouldn’t be a nuisance, now can we drop it?”
“You thought I’d be helpful with children.” she repeated, calmly.
House turned back to the drawers.
“Look, I was detoxing. Ok? I was in pain, I was detoxing, I was losing a patient. I had to take it out on somebody. I thought it was your fault I was losing the patient, and I thought it was justified. That didn’t make it true.”
He jumped, as she placed her arms around his shoulders, resting her head against his back.
“It’s ok, House. I knew you were in pain, I knew you were upset. And now I know you didn’t even think the statement was true.”
He turned, looking at her, and he could feel himself blushing a little.
She smiled, and leaned forward, kissing him gently on the lips.
He blinked, as he tasted salt and copper... her lips tasted like blood. He pulled back, to see blood trickling down the side of her face, her eyes pained and one pupil wide.
“What the hell?! What happened?!”
“I knew that. But it still hurt me.”
She collapsed against him, and he had to hold her up, she would hurt if she fell, but his leg wouldn’t hold the extra weight, he went down with her, he couldn’t move, it hurt, he couldn’t help her, he couldn’t think, it hurt too much, he couldn’t-
House sat up, breathing heavily, eyes wide.
He blinked, still panting, as he looked around. He was lying on a recliner. In his office. With five year old Cuddy snoring peacefully in his lap. The same situation as an hour ago, when he had been sat in the chair with a grade one concussion, a large bruise on his jaw, and a heating pad on his bad leg to help with the cramping from the fall.
House sighed, resting his head back against the leather, one hand absently rubbing Cuddy’s back.
What he heck had that dream been about? Did he really feel that bad about what he had said?
“House?”
House blinked, looking down at Cuddy.
“Are you ok? The nurse that got me an x-ray said you hit your head and fell funny on your leg....”
“Yeah Cuddy, I’m fine.”
Cuddy watched him for a moment, green eyes completely innocent and worried.
She climbed down off his lap, heaved the door to the differential room open one handed, dragged a chair to the sink, filled his red mug with water and picked up a washcloth.
House sighed, as five year old Cuddy wiped off the little bit of dried blood trailing from where his lip had split.
“You didn’t have to do that.” she informed him, looking deadly serious.
“I didn’t really think about have to and don’t have to. Otherwise I wouldn’t have done it.”
She blinked.
Then she smiled a little, wedged the cup in a fold of padding, and snuggled comfortably on top of him, closing her eyes.
House felt a smile twitching on his lips.