[Closed to Cuddy, Amber] Maybe this is worse than he had first anticipated.

[c18_h21_no3]

House checked his watch.

3:24.He had six minutes before Cuddy transformed back into the Wicked Witch of the hospital's west wing and sent her flying monkeys out to drag him to the depths of the Radiology Department if he refused to show up all by himself. He sat back in his chair, rotating a rubber band around his fingers as he stared intently at

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[dean_ofmedicine]

Cuddy wasn't playing any games anymore. She had a stunned Aussie left in the Surgical department to prove that. She stood outside the MRI suite with her arms crossed, glancing at her watch again. He had six minutes. He if wasn't here in six minutes, he was going to be lining up in the unemployment queue to claim benefits. She could see Amber inside the suite looking up at the clock also. She gave Radiologist a minute and a half longer before she was suggesting she go collect House for Cuddy. Amber didn't like House, and Cuddy knew it, but she also knew that every employee that 'didn't like' House meant there was usually an underlying admiration or respect there, otherwise the person's feelings usually lay much deeper than just 'didn't like'. In fact, she had been privy to more than a small handful of death threats issued in House's favour.

Her face was schooled into a pinched frown, wondering if this was the point in time she had always feared she would reach. That she just tolerated him too much that she could take no more. She had

[cutthroatbitch]

Amber gave her shoulder a slight shrug. "A bleed, swelling, lesions on the frontal lobe," she listed off. "As a start. Anything that might be caused by a head injury with hard impact..." She had to clear her throat and shift her weight awkwardly. House wasn't the only one who suffered a head injury in that crash. Some days Amber's leg and head hurt as a result of it. Some days, that terror she felt during the crash and following it swallowed her up and threatened to seize her all over again.

But like House, she wasn't going to admit it without a fight. Probably exactly the reason she knew they were going to find something on this MRI.

House knew it, too.

[c18_h21_no3]

House lifted a hand to scratch at his beard, making a point to do some light fidgeting to turn their attention back to him. He wasn't going to let them switch off the intercom and miss out on what they found, because knowing Cuddy, if she found something serious he'd have to pry it out of her with the jaws of life before she'd tell him any of the details.

"What, no offering computer-generated butterflies or a virtual walk in the park or something to calm me down? I could be dying for all we know," he grouched. It was his way of making conversation. House was getting antsy, and getting himself all riled up just made him all the more exasperated. He was psyching himself out, and he wasn't even sure for what. All it seemed to be doing was aggravating his headache.

[dean_ofmedicine]

"Stay still, House," Cuddy reprimanded with a firm edge to her tone, her finger once again pressed down on the button, which she released again without any acknowledgement to his other comments.

She turned to Amber once again with a small clear of her throat. "You think I made an error of judgement in letting him back to work so soon," she noted, decided to make a deduction from Amber's tone. "So, you think whatever it is is related to the head injury he had, and not, say, an illness or a tumour...?" She was unable to stop herself trailing off in question. The thing was, none of the possible options now laid on the table were comforting, and a funny feeling was niggling away in her gut as she looked through the glass at House's feet sticking out the end of the MRI tube.

[cutthroatbitch]

"I think you're the Dean of Medicine and the call was yours alone to make," Amber returned, remaining cool. "As is any call you make from now on. I also think if House had an illness or tumour, any symptoms would have been exacerbated by the head trauma in the crash and they would have shown on prior tests at that time. So, my opinion would be that it is unlikely to be an illness or tumour, yet we don't rule out on opinion, we rule out on fact, hence the MRI

[c18_h21_no3]

House grumbled audibly when he heard the microphone shut off again. He sighed, closing his eyes as the sounds of the machine seemed to ring through his ears louder than before. His headache was back full force now, and it brought company. It didn't help that he had no idea what was going on. At least Wilson had the decency to fill him in during his last MRI.

"Find anyth-mmh," he trailed off, squeezing his eyes shut as he felt his head throb violently, the pressure behind his brow so dense he felt like his skull was about to explode. Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up, was all he could manage to think, the seconds slowly turning into what felt like hours as the MRI read clicks seemed to grow to a deafening volume.

[dean_ofmedicine]

Warning bells immediately started to ring in Cuddy's mind. She frowned and hit the intercom button. "House?" she asked, expecting him to answer with some snarky retort about ignoring him and needing her cleavage to reduce his heart rate or some other such crude comment. When he didn't answer, she felt her stomach leap up into her chest and she leaned forward. "House!" she said with more emphasis this time.

[cutthroatbitch]

Amber's eyes hadn't left the screens. Miraculously, House had remained still to capture just a few more images of his brain. "Something's wrong! He's hemorrhaging in the temporaly lobe," she said with a hiss of panic, quickly capturing the images on the screen. "Get him out before he seizes or worse!" She was already pushing back out of her seat, almost sending it crashing to the ground in her haste. She wondered why, all of a sudden, she was always the one to be there when House's health seemed to spiral out of control. At least this time, he wasn't electrocuting himself.

[c18_h21_no3]

Not really giving a shit about it ruining the MRI results, and needing to do something about his violent migraine, House rolled himself out of the machine with a bit of difficulty. He felt like his head was going to pop. Sitting up slowly, not wanting to make himself any dizzier, he shifted so his legs hung off the side of the platform. Leaning over, he brought his hands to his head, palms pressing against his temples. From the sound of it, one, if not both women were rushing to his side.

"I-... I'm fine," he started, holding a hand out.

[dean_ofmedicine]

Cuddy burst out of the imaging cubicle and was over to House's side in a heartbeat. She tucked her hand under his elbow, trying to hold him steady and prevent him falling over. "Forget the case. I'm admitting you," she said firmly, the words almost being bitten out in her panic. It was only then that she spotted the small streak of fresh bloody near House's ear and she brushed her finger through it, almost as if she was imagining it. "Damnit, House," she fretted, glancing up at Amber in horror.

[cutthroatbitch]

Amber watched House, her eyes wide. If this was any other patient, she would have called for a gurney by now, perhaps even a crash cart. It was reflexive to let House call his own shots, but at the same time, it didn't look like Cuddy was going to let him this time. Either way, she had to agree. House needed to be admitted - and treated - ASAP. With the amount of bleeding and pressure on the brain, his condition was a ticking time bomb.

[c18_h21_no3]

House watched Cuddy pull her hand away, his blood smudged on her fingertips. There wasn't much he could do to hide it now. He knew he needed help, he just couldn't seem to stand up properly to get it himself. He shook his head slightly, his attempt to wave the pain away proving to be about as useful as sitting up in the first place was.

"I'm..." Trailing off, he collapsed forward against Cuddy, blacking out.