Chapter 20: House's Gambit
The pile of files hits my desk with a thud at seven AM.
Fifty case studies. Thick folders with lab results, imaging, clinical notes. House stands over me, grinning like he just set a particularly cruel trap.
"Pattern recognition exercise. Review all fifty cases, find the common thread, present your findings tomorrow morning." He taps the stack with his cane. "Most fellows would take a week. Let's see how fast you are."
Foreman looks up from his computer. "That's not reasonable—"
"Good thing I'm not asking you, then." House limps toward his office. "Chase? Clock's ticking."
I flip open the first file. Sixty-seven-year-old male, presented with respiratory distress and confusion. Diagnosed with legionellosis. Treated, recovered.
Second file: Forty-two-year-old female, neurological symptoms, eventually diagnosed with neurocysticercosis.
Third file: Different age, different symptoms, different diagnosis.
Fifty cases. Find the pattern. One day.
"That's insane," Cameron says quietly. "He's setting you up to fail."
"Maybe." I start taking notes. "Or he's testing how I handle impossible tasks."
"You're actually going to try?"
"Don't have much choice."
I work through the day, skipping lunch, barely stopping for coffee.
The files are complex—diverse diseases, different presentations, no obvious connections. But there has to be something. House doesn't give impossible tasks without answers.
By midnight, I've reviewed forty files. My eyes burn. My head pounds from twelve hours of constant lie detection triggers from patient histories. But I'm close.
Travel. They all traveled recently.
Not to the same place. Not at the same time. But every single patient had traveled within three months of symptom onset.
I pull up maps, cross-reference destinations. Find the pattern.
They all passed through O'Hare International Airport in Chicago. Different flights, different dates, but the same terminal. Terminal 3.
Water contamination? Food source? Environmental exposure in a specific location?
I dig deeper. Find news articles from six months ago: water system issues at O'Hare, specific terminals affected, contamination with legionella bacteria.
But that only explains some cases. What about the others?
I keep searching. Find the second connection.
The airport's international terminal had a food vendor that sourced improperly prepared foods—including undercooked pork from a supplier later shut down for health violations.
Legionellosis from the water system. Neurocysticercosis from contaminated pork. Multiple diseases, single location.
I document everything, create a presentation. By the time I'm done, it's six-thirty AM.
No sleep. But I have the answer.
House walks in at eight, carrying coffee and looking far too awake for someone his age on his medication regimen.
"Well?" He sits down, feet up on the conference table. "Find anything?"
I pull up my presentation. "All fifty patients traveled through O'Hare International Airport, Terminal 3, within three months of symptom onset. The terminal had concurrent contamination events—legionella in the water system and a food vendor serving undercooked pork from a contaminated supplier."
I walk through the evidence: patient travel histories, contamination timelines, correlation between exposure and symptom onset.
House watches in silence. When I'm done, he nods slowly.
"You didn't sleep."
"Correct."
"You reviewed fifty complex case files, found a geographic pattern, researched environmental factors, and connected two separate contamination events in twelve hours."
"Thirteen, technically."
"That's not normal."
Careful.
"That's focused work. Sixteen hours isn't that unusual for intensive research."
"Most people would've given up after the first ten files." House stands, walks to the whiteboard. "But you kept going. Found a pattern nobody else would've seen. Either you're brilliant or you've got tricks I don't know about."
"Or I just don't quit easily."
House stares at me. "Where'd you learn to work like this? Seminary doesn't teach pattern recognition. ER medicine teaches rapid assessment, not deep research."
"I worked on research papers during fellowship. Indigenous health disparities, environmental factors in disease transmission." All true for Chase's history. "This is just applying those same skills to a diagnostic question."
He doesn't look convinced, but he lets it drop. "Good work. Take the rest of the day off. You look like hell."
I don't take the day off.
Can't afford to show weakness. Can't give House more ammunition.
But I'm exhausted. The lie detection is worse when I'm tired—every small deception hits harder, the pain sharper. By noon, I'm surviving on aspirin and willpower.
Cameron notices. "You really stayed up all night?"
"Yeah."
"That's not healthy."
"Neither is failing House's tests."
She shakes her head but doesn't push. Foreman keeps his distance, either impressed or annoyed that I completed the impossible task.
At two PM, House returns from clinic duty and corners me in the conference room. Closes the door.
Here we go.
"Let's talk about your father." His voice is casual, but the trap is obvious.
"We don't need to—"
"Rowan Chase. Famous surgeon. Published extensively. Died three years ago of alcoholic cirrhosis." House sits on the table edge. "You went to seminary instead of following him into surgery. Classic rebellion against the father figure."
"Or I wanted something different."
"Or you were running from a drunk who told you that you'd never be good enough. That's why you work so hard now—proving you're worth keeping. Desperate for approval from male authority figures." He grins. "Am I close?"
Foreman is visible through the glass wall, watching. Cameron too. They can't hear, but they can see.
House is pushing. Testing how I react to cruelty.
I keep my voice level. "That's one interpretation. Another: I work hard because people die when doctors don't. I'm thorough because mistakes kill. I volunteer for difficult work because someone has to do it, and I'm capable."
"That's a very noble narrative."
"It's also true. You can psychoanalyze me all you want, House. Doesn't change the fact that I completed your impossible task, diagnosed Rebecca Adler's tapeworm, saved five babies. Pick whichever interpretation makes you feel smarter."
House's grin widens. "You don't flinch. Most people flinch when I dig into their daddy issues."
"Most people care what you think. I care about doing good work."
"Interesting." He stands, heads for the door. "Very interesting."
He leaves me alone in the conference room, heart pounding but face calm.
Survived. But barely.
Wilson finds me in the break room an hour later.
I'm making tea, trying to calm down from the adrenaline spike of House's interrogation. Wilson pours coffee and sits at the small table.
"House is testing you."
"Noticed that."
"He does this. Breaks people to see how they're built. Pushes until they crack or quit. Most do both." Wilson takes a sip. "You're not cracking."
"Not planning to."
"That's the problem. House is interested in you specifically. He's noticed you're different." Wilson meets my eyes. "You don't react like people should. The overnight work, the chemical exposure, the calm when he attacks you personally. It intrigues him."
"Should I be reacting differently?"
"Most people would be angry or defensive or hurt. You're just... calm. Like you've processed it already." He pauses. "House destroys what he can't understand. And right now, he doesn't understand you."
Third warning. Everyone's telling me House is dangerous.
"What do you suggest?"
"Show him you're human. Make mistakes. Get emotional about something. Give him a way to understand you before he decides you're a threat." Wilson stands. "Or be very sure you can handle him digging until he finds what you're hiding. Because he will dig. That's what he does."
He leaves. I'm alone with my tea and the uncomfortable certainty that House isn't going to stop.
Three weeks as his fellow. Already on borrowed time.
That night, I update the notebook with shaking hands.
Week Three Summary:
Major developments:
Coffee with Cameron: successful, relationship building naturallyHouse's impossible task: completed, but revealed too much capabilityPersonal attack: survived, but House noted lack of emotional reactionWilson's warning: House "destroys what he can't understand"
House's investigation status: ACTIVE AND ACCELERATING
Noted overnight work capabilitySuspicious of pattern recognition speedTesting emotional reactions to crueltyBuilding comprehensive file on my "differences"
Powers progression:
Disease Resistance: Phase 1 stableLie Detection: Causing more pain when tired, need better managementDeduction: Successfully used for case file analysis, but maybe too successfully
Cover stories status:
Immune system: Holding (mentioned to Cameron)ER/research background: Holding (explains work ethic)Personal history: Holding (father issues real enough to deflect)
Risk assessment: HIGH House actively investigating. Wilson warned directly. Need to appear more human, more fallible. But how to fail strategically without actually failing patients?
Next steps:
Continue relationship building with CameronMake deliberate small mistakes for House to findPractice emotional reactions to stressPrepare for House's next escalation
I close the notebook and stare at the ceiling.
Three weeks. Two major cases solved. Cameron interested. House suspicious.
Balance collapsing. Need new strategy.
Can't keep being perfect. Have to show weakness without actually being weak.
How do you lose on purpose when people's lives are at stake?
The question haunts me as I try to sleep.
Tomorrow brings new cases. New chances. New tests from House.
And I'm running out of ways to hide.
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