Well, with the end of the final exam season and probably due to all the ck of sleep and poor eating habits, I'm quite sibsp;

  Fortunately, I have a couple of chapters prepared. I have to admit ohing though: this chapter and the st one were one chapter, but I split them into two. That's why they are 'shorter' 3k each.

  ---

  It didn't take me long to discover where House and the rest of the team were—in one of the private rooms, around the patient lying in bed ao a visibly upset strange woman. House, at the head of the patient's bed, was ventiting with a resuscitation bag, pletely serious.

  Of course, he had ighe DNR; it didn't surprise me at all.

  At that moment, from the other side of the hallway, a group of nurses and teis were pushing one of the hospital's meical ventitors.

  "Ah, finally, and look who's here. I thought the aliens had abducted you," House decred upon seeing the nurses and teis enter with the mae, adding the rest when he saw me behind them.

  "They actually did," I sarcastically murmured as I ehe room.

  "I'm sorry, who's this?" the strange woman, who was visibly furious, asked.

  "PJ Dun," I said, smiling unfortably, introdug myself. On sed thought, I didn't want to be there at that moment.

  "Now that we all know each other, the IVIG made him worse, why?" House asked.

  "Unbelievable," the furious blonde woman murmured, leaving the room with her phone in hand.

  "Means multifocal motor neuropathy was a bad diagnosis," I replied, gng at the woman walking out of everyone's sight.

  "Doctor House," raising his voientarily, Dr. Foreman said angrily, "do you think this is a good pce to discuss this right now?" he asked with forced ess in his tone.

  "Well, I don't think he cares right now," House sarcastically responded, pointing to the unscious patient in the bed, "but if it makes you feel better, we step out," he added mogly, shrugging.

  "I would like that, yes," Dr. Foreman immediately said, walking out of the room. House and I followed him, while Chase and Cameron stayed behind to supervise the instaltion of the meical ventitor.

  Outside the room, trary to Dr. Foreman's reendation, we simply stood in silence, waiting for the mae to be installed.

  Dr. Foreman, who was a few steps away from us, ag bad forth, looking like he was about to explode, obviously furious. House, meanwhile, seemed simply lost in his thoughts.

  "So… what's the legal defense?" I asked House in a murmur, unfortable with the silehe patient's capacity to make the decision?"

  I had seen the numbers iudies, and the patient's thyroid levels were slightly low, but not enough to be a real legal .

  "Yup," House said easily, nodding.

  "That's only going to work for so long," tilting my head slightly, I muttered, irely sure of my own words.

  "Let's hope it's enough time to figure out what's wrong with him," House responded seriously, looking at the patient's room, pletely calm about having assaulted a patient with a DNR.

  The nurses and teis who hahe ventitor instaltiohe room oheir work was done, while Chase and Cameron stayed behind, cheg the levels shown by the maes.

  "e on, we have work to do," House said, starting to walk toward the lounge once Cameron and Chase finished whatever they were doing in the room. The rest of the doctors followed us, including the still visibly furious Dr. Foreman.

  "He's stable on the ventitor, oxygenating well," Chase said as we ehe diagnostic lounge.

  Diane was sitting in one of the ers of the room, directly o the entrance door, reading a book quietly.

  House, walking in front of everyourned on his heels to face us. I could see his eyes briefly g where Diane was sitting silently, but without enting, he ended his gaze oh some suspi. "What's really wrong with him?" House asked, as if there was nothing unusual in the lounge.

  "What's wrong with you?" Dr. Foreman, finally exploding in the 'privacy' of the diagnostic lounge, asked, raising his voice, obviously angry.

  "Everyone knows what's wrong with me," House decred, tilting his head with a mog smile on his face, "what's wrong with him is more iing."

  "You tubed him, and he didn't want to be tubed," Dr. Foreman immediately responded, g his jaw, "he has a legal paper saying just that."

  "To intubate or not to intubate," House decred theatrically, "that is the big ethical question," he added a moment ter, raising one of his eyebrows, "actually, I was hoping we could avoid it and maybe just practiedie."

  "There is no question, it's the patient's decision," Foreman said, frustrated.

  "If the patient is petent to make it," House decred tentatively, shrugging, "if his thyroid numbers aren't making him sad."

  "Oh, my God," Dr. Foreman said, exasperated, "you don't believe that."

  "His thyroid levels were a little—" Cameron was trying to say, but Dr. Foreman immediately interrupted her.

  "It's nothing, and do not defend him!" the angry doctor warned her.

  "Why did he sign that DNR?" House asked, staring at Dr. Foreman.

  "I-I didn't talk him into—" Dr. Foreman, taken by surprise by House's suddeion, was trying to say.

  "No," House interrupted forcefully, "he sighe DNR because he didn't want a slow, painful death from ALS," House tinued seriously.

  I hadn't met the patient, but if the extensive history of ical tests roof, John Henry Giles surely wao keep fighting to get his life back. If there was real hope in his case, he probably wouldn't have signed a DNR.

  "What was happening had nothing to do with his ALS," House tinued, proving his point.

  "Exactly! It's the IVIG, you screwed up!" Dr. Foreman pointing furiously at House, excimed, "you're not gon him die because you screwed up," the angry doctor tinued.

  "Teically, your case, so you screwed up," Quietly with a small, evil smile, House said, pointing back at Foreman. "Is that what this is about, looking bad in front of your old boss?" House asked, squinting at Dr. Foreman.

  "You assaulted that man," Dr. Foreman replied, shaking his head at House's words.

  "Fine," House decred, raising his hands in surrender. "I'll never do it again," putting one hand on his chest and the other in the air, House promised with false seriousness.

  Yes, he will.

  "Yes, you will," Dr. Foreman reproached, frustrated, as he walked out of the diagnostic lounge.

  "Then all the more reason this debate is pointless," House said sarcastically, shrugging, before Dr. Foreman could fully leave the room.

  Once Dr. Foreman stormed out of the room, an unfortable sileook over.

  "Before we discuss why his lungs are worse," House said slowly, ued by Dr. Forema, "does anyone want to expin who she is?" House asked rhetorically, looking directly at me while pointing to the er of the room.

  Both Cameron and Chase, who hadn't noticed there was someone in the room, turned around, surprised to find Diating with her back perfectly straight in the chair.

  "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be a distra," Diane, who had been silent throughout the doctors' discussion, said apologetically, standing up from the small armchair she occupied with the formality that appeared when fag new people.

  "Oh, don't worry," House decred with false kindness, waving his hand dismissively. "I love when people see doctors having a mental breakdown; it always gives a feeling of relief and fiden the guild," he added ironically.

  "Yeah… Diahese are Doctors Chase, Cameron, and House," I said, smiling apologetically at my friend and pointing to each doctor.

  "Oh, so this is Diane?" Cameron asked, smiling signifitly at me. "I've heard so much about you," she said, approag Diah a smile.

  "Oh, really?" Diane asked, frankly surprised. "Perhaps you have read some of my papers," she added, still maintaining a strange formality.

  "What?" Cameron murmured, taken aback.

  "Yes, st year I published an article on a Funal Depositiohod for the Effit Resolution of Nonlinear Differential Equations," Diane said proudly, pletely unaware of the reason for Cameron's question.

  "I meant PJ, PJ has talked a lot about you," Cameron expined, smiling slightly as she reached Diane.

  "Oh, yeah, that makes more sense," Diane murmured, l her head in embarrassment, loud enough for everyoo hear.

  "From a cheerleader to someoh savant syndrome, and they say I'm a radical," House decred, smiling broadly and joking, causing Chase to snort and pyfully elbow me.

  "Cheerleader?" Diane asked, puzzled by House's mockery. They had called her a savant, but was that what mattered to her?

  "Nothing," I quickly said, feeling the o avoid talking abina. "Diane has a master's degree in mathematics from MIT," I added, ging the subject, causing Chase and Cameron to look at the girl in surprise. House, oher hand, raised an eyebrow at me, obviously notig my strange reluce to talk abina.

  "What's the factorial of fifteen?" House asked, slowly shifting his fixed gaze from me to Diane, interrupting any question Cameron might have asked Diane.

  "What, House—" I said, incredulous at the man's behavior. Diane was very intelligent, but she wasn't a calcutor.

  "Eighty-seven billion, one hundred seve million, two hundred y-ohousand, two hundred," Diane calmly responded after a couple of seds, interrupting my words and thought process without skipping a beat.

  "The square root of that?" House asked, raising an eyebrow.

  "Two hundred y-five thousand, two hundred fifty-nine point sevewelve, and ge," Diane responded again, probably after a couple of seds, visibly surprising Chase, Cameron, and me even more.

  "Divided by seven," House said seriously, crossing his arms and now strangely .

  "Forty-two thousand, one hundred seventy-nine point y-five, and ge," Diane responded pletely calmly, with a trace of a tiny smile on her face.

  I knew Diane was a genius, but it had never occurred to me to ask her for calcutions in that way and that she could do it so easily.

  "Okay, that's enough," I said, overing my surprise and looking angrily at House.

  "Fine, I don't have a way to verify if what she said is correyway," House responded, shrugging disiedly.

  "Oh, you . I remember each of the operations; I repeat them while you ehem into a calcutor," Diane said, makiiny smile a bit more visible, with a hint of smugness directed at House. Maybe I shouldn't have said everything I had about the man.

  "That's really impressive," Cameron decred excitedly, smiling at Diane. " you do that?" she asked me a moment ter. "I mean, you're also some kind of genius, right?"

  "No, I 't," I quickly responded, feeling somewhat attacked.

  "Yeah, PJ only knows a lot about medie," Diane said, looking directly at me with a now visible, surprisingly slightly malicious smile. "In a trivia test, he wouldn't be much help."

  Surprised by Diane's sudden joking attitude, I could only smile with some pride at her more rexed behavior.

  "That's really cute," House decred, smiling falsely. "Now, the dying person?" he asked seriously a moment ter, losing his smile. "His lungs are worse, any theories?" he asked again, bringing the versation back to the case.

  Both Cameron and I smiled apologetically at Diane, giving our attention to the chief doctor in the room.

  "Vasculitis?" Chase asked, irely sure.

  "I like it," I said, nodding. "The patient's MRIs are old and have a bit of static; they certainly didn't show anything, but there could always be errors or developments. IVIG in many cases could exacerbate vasculitis, indug a much worse infmmatory response," I quickly added.

  "Dr. House?" Before anyone else could say anything, a rather attractive woman carrying an envelope asked from the entrance of the lounge, entering the room.

  She wore high heels that atuated her legs, a visibly tight skirt a little above mid-thigh, and a shirt under an equally tight jacket, with far more buttons open than she should have had. It was obvious she inteo attract attention.

  "Cuddy sent me a stripper again?" House asked fake excitedly as the woman walked toward him. "Love that woman, so thoughtful," he decred, pg a hand over his chest, feigniion.

  "Sorry," the woman said without introdug herself, handing the envelope to House and walking out of the room.

  House, pletely unabashed, watched the woman's backside as she walked away from the lounge and calmly hahe envelope to Cameron.

  "Wouldn't likely hit both lungs," House said, tilting his head, probably trying to catch the st glimpse of the woman. "You should know that," he added, raising an eyebrow at me ohe woman was out of sight.

  "I know that, but unlikely cases are what you usually work with, right?" I quickly responded, causing House to tilt his head slightly. "I feel we should at least update the st MRI; the one we have is over six months old," I said, raising my hands slightly.

  "It could be Wegener's granulomatosis," Cameron said as she opehe envelope.

  "There are case reports of Wegener's hitting both the lungs and the spine," I said, nodding, remembering reading those cases in the hospital library.

  "It's not great, but it's better than ALS," House said slowly. "At least it's treatable."

  "It's a restraining order," Cameron decred worriedly after reading the letter ihe envelope. "You're not to e within 50 feet of John Henry Giles, and they've asked the D.A. to file criminal charges for battery."

  "Camerohe blood for CA," House ordered, pletely uurbed by the news.

  "These are criminal charges; they're not going to let you take blood to make more tests," Cameron said seriously, showing the letter in her hand.

  "He has blood left in the b, just add on the CA," House said, shrugging, still not giving importao the plicated situation. "Foreman still got you doing bronchoscopic suing for the pneumonia?" he asked Chase calmly.

  "Every four hours," Chase responded quickly.

  "Well, while you're down in his lungs, grab a biopsy," House ordered maliciously. "We'll to firm Wegener's." Walking toward his office, he stopped abruptly. "Also, try to get an MRI for the kid," House ordered, pointing at me.

  "Do you really think it's necessary?" Chase asked me seriously, not doubting my knowledge but rather a genuine questioween colleagues.

  "Yeah," I responded seriously, thinking about the strangeness of the rea to IVIG.

  "You just have to hide from Foreman; after all, the patient 't refuse," House decred sarcastically. "And speaking of that, one more thing: move the patient to the sed-floor ICU," House said, stopping uhe doorframe of his office.

  "Why?" Cameron asked, puzzled.

  "It's above the ic," I responded, sn and shaking my head, causing House to smile and nod.

  "I'm pretty sure it's fifty feet in any dire," House said, smiling maliciously.

  Of course, he would use a court order to his advantage somehow.

  After receiving their orders, the other doctors left the louo plete their tasks, not without first smiling at Diane, who simply nodded awkwardly, bidding the doctors farewell.

  Silently asking Diao wait for me outside House's private office, I walked behind the doctor into his office.

  "So, aren't you supposed to meet with the hospital wyer?" I asked, following House into his office.

  "How much do you know about these kinds of things, summons and trials?" House asked, sitting calmly in his chair.

  "Not much, but I know the thyroid levels aren't going to work as a reason to ighe DNR," I said seriously, taking a seat in front of House.

  "Well, that's reason enough to find out what's wrong with him," House said, reing in his chair, pletely rexed. "Now let's talk about you. How does it feel to chase someone who makes your intelligence look like that of a two-year-old?" House asked sarcastically, joining his hands in front of his face.

  "We're just friends," I said exasperatedly, rolling my eyes. "And 'chase'? As if you know what that is," I retorted sarcastically, nodding at his e.

  "Oh yeah, make fun of the crippled," House said, sn and shaking his head, feigning offense.

  A moment after House spoke, his pager went off. "How long do you think a moderately det team of doctors move a atose patient to the sed-floor ICU?" House asked, squinting after cheg his pager.

  "Five minutes?" I replied, shrugging, irely sure.

  "Let's round it to ten," House said, nodding slowly and cheg his watch. "I suddenly have to go to the bathroom," he added, standing up slowly and smiling.

  "Good luck," I murmured ironically, raising my eyebrows and walking behind House out of his office.

  "It leasure meeting you, Ramanujan," House said, smiling sarcastically at Diane before leaving the diagnostic lounge.

  "I'm a woman, Ameri, and obviously didn't die on April 26, 1920," Diane quickly said, frowning and stopping House. "From J said, I thought you had some special deductive ability and a great memory. PJ said my name several minutes ago."

  "Aw, you think I have a 'special deductive ability'?" House asked me, pg a hand over his chest, feigning tenderness, pletely ign Diane's response.

  "I think many things about you, House. Your work as a diagnosti is possibly the only good thing," I said, smiling seriously.

  "Oh, the sting," House excimed with exaggerated pain on his face. "Look what you did, Ramanujan. When I mocked the cheerleader, he wasn't this defensive," House added, raising his eyebrows suggestively and tinuing his way out of the room.

  "I'm not Ramanujan, like I said. He was Indian and died in 1920," Diane said, slightly exasperated, raising her voice as House disappeared down the hallway, pletely ign her.

  Seeing me incredulously, Diane raised one of her hands slightly, silently asking what House's problem was.

  "Diane, do you remember what I told you about House?" I asked, uo avoid smiling slightly.

  "Oh yeah," Diane murmured, raising her head a little embarrassed, probably for fetting what I had said. "So this is 'any reason to moyone'?" she asked, nodding slowly.

  "That was it," I murmured, nodding slowly.

  "I get it… I think," Diane murmured, squinting, possibly abs the information.

  "That's why I said, don't listen to anything he says," I reminded her, pressing my lips together. "Now, would you like to see where many of the medical teiques are practiced in the hospital?" I asked, g and ging the subject.

  "Yes," Diane responded, ied, nodding. " I ask one more question?" she asked, walking beside me out of the diagnostic lounge.

  "Of course, as many as you want," I replied, puzzled.

  "Who is 'the cheerleader'?" Diane asked, obviously f a ral expression while gng at me sideways.

  ---

  Author Thoughts:

  As always, I'm not Ameri, not a doctor, not a fighter and I'm not Magnus Carlsen.

  With that said,

  I think that's all. As always, if you find any errors, please let me know, and I'll correct them immediately.

  Thank you for reading! :D

  PS: PLEASE LEAVE A REVIEW.