readingrat | fic: When the Wind is Southerly

Author's Note

There are events in House MD that will never cease to amaze me, no matter how often I watch the episode concerned. For example, my mind will not bend around the fact that House, scientist par excellence, switched papers with a fellow student while in med school so as to prove that his professor's grading was prejudiced, but never checked whether that fellow student got a better or worse grade than he did. Does that sound like House to you, dear Reader?

This fic tries to explain some of these seeming inconsistencies by re-interpreting the events of Season 6. Depending on how the current season develops on-screen, there will also be a Season 7 in due time.

My thanks to flywoman for suggestions and corrections and to Brighidsfire for acting as my beta despite having more than enough on her plate at the moment.

Let us assume, dear Reader, that House returns from Mayfield detoxed and drug-free, but unfortunately still hallucinating …

I Broken

Acquaints the Reader with the circumstances that prevail upon House to return to the surroundings that formerly nourished his addiction.

A gentle knock, then Wilson's head appeared in the door of Cuddy's office. "Are you busy?"

"No, come in, I'll be done in a moment.“ Cuddy closed the file she was working on and looked at Wilson with a smile. "What can I do for you?"

Wilson hesitated, then he plunged in. "I went to Mayfield yesterday."

Cuddy's smile remained on her lips, but faded from her eyes. "Oh, right. How is House?"

"Fine, actually. He's doing really well. The anti-depressants are kicking in and he's finally cooperating with their pain management expert, so ... yes, he's doing great."

"That's great news. When can I expect him back?" Wilson looked apologetic. "He doesn't want to come back, right?” Wilson was silent. “Fair enough, and it probably makes sense. Has he found some other hospital that'll help him get his licence back?"

"Uh, no. Not yet.“

Cuddy leaned forward. "Wilson, he's been gone for over three months. HR is all over my back, and so's the board. I can pay him his salary a few months longer, but I need to either fill his position or disband the department. If he isn't back in two weeks working on his accreditation I'll give his job to Foreman."

Wilson rubbed the back of his neck before he met Cuddy's eyes again. "There's a problem."

"What is it?"

"He ... he's still hallucinating."

"I thought that stopped after he detoxed."

Wilson shrugged. "Apparently not."

"So what's causing it if not the vicodin?"

"They don't know."

"Well, he can't come back until they've fixed it."

"It's fairly harmless, really. He's got an imaginary buddy named Alfie.” Wilson thought a moment. “Or Alvie." Cuddy rolled her eyes. "I used to have an imaginary buddy when I was a kid."

"Wilson, he's fifty, not five! I'm sorry. I can try to wrangle HR into paying him a bit longer.” Cuddy narrowed her eyes at Wilson. “Wait. You weren't seriously expecting me to take him back as long as he's hallucinating, were you?"

"No. Actually, I came to tell you that he'll be leaving Mayfield and moving in with me."

"Even though he isn't stable yet?"

"Nolan says that this may be as good as it gets." Wilson watched as Cuddy's eyes widened in shock that was gradually displaced by dismay, then by sadness.

"If this is about his medical expenses - he's still insured through the hospital and will continue to be, even when he's on unpaid leave."

"No. ... Mayfield wants to transfer him to another institution. It's in Pittsburgh and it's - I don't think it's suitable."

"Nolan agreed to release him into your care?" Cuddy's voice was tinged with disbelief.

Wilson said somewhat defensively, "House checked himself in voluntarily. He can check himself out any time."

Cuddy wasn't fooled. "What did he do?"

"There was an incident with a patient's sister-in-law. He thought that he, ah, had sex with her."

"Forgive me for not feeling particularly sorry for her. He's hardly likely to have announced it all over her workplace."

"Well, no. He snagged or forged an overnight pass and turned up at her home instead. Her husband was not amused. Nolan had a tough time persuading him that House was not to be taken seriously. The marriage took a beating and the patient is being transferred to another institution. It's been bad for Mayfield's reputation. Other patients' families are considering removing their loved ones, so Nolan wants House out."

"That's ridiculous! The husband must be an idiot! No institution would let a patient start anything with a visitor."

"Absolutely. Nolan assures me they only met under close observation in the ward common room. Seems she 'bewitched' him with her piano playing." Wilson sketched quotation marks in the air.

"Why are you telling me all this? What happened to patient confidentiality?"

"I'm not his doctor; I'm his friend. I thought I'd warn you."

"Wilson, you're not bringing him here!"

"No, of course not." Wilson tried to look as though the thought had never crossed his mind, but failed miserably.

"I will not have him causing havoc in my hospital. Half the staff believed his announcement - I'm still living it down."

"That's ... I'm sorry." Wilson's eyes moved to Cuddy's cleavage, and then back to Cuddy's face. The message was clear: it wasn't all on House.

Cuddy backed down. "Don't be - it's not your fault."

"Well, I guess I'd better be going."

"Wilson?"

"Say 'hi' to House from me."

"Right."

II Epic Fail

In which Cuddy offers to babysit while Foreman is forced into it.

"Did you manage to look in on House today?" Wilson hovered uncertainly in the door of Cuddy's office.

"Yes. I took an extended lunch break."

"Thanks. I really couldn't manage today - patients, oncology department meeting."

"It was okay, really. Don't feel bad about it." Cuddy smiled reassuringly at Wilson and put her pen down. "Look, ever since House left PPTH, I have had more than enough time on my hands."

"Liar," Wilson noted. Nevertheless, he entered the office and sat down opposite Cuddy. "How was he?"

"Fine," Cuddy said. She added somewhat inconsequentially, "He was making gnocchi."

"Great." Wilson mustered Cuddy. "And you? I mean, it must have been awkward, seeing him for the first time since he ... left."

Cuddy flushed slightly. "No, no. He knows he hallucinated all that; he was open and frank about it."

"Good." There was a long silence. Wilson made no move to rise.

Cuddy dropped her eyes and fiddled with her pen. Then she took a deep breath. "He was talking to someone."

"Oh."

"A Chinese woman. From your cooking course?"

"Oh, her. Yes." Wilson made no attempt to help Cuddy out.

"It's, well, disconcerting when he talks to someone who isn't there."

"One gets used to it." Wilson managed to make it sound as though he were talking about an irritating habit, such as leaving towels on the bathroom floor or channel surfing.

Cuddy bit her lip. "I suppose so. ... Does she exist?"

"The Chinese woman? No. ... The cooking course is real, though."

"Well, that's comforting."

Foreman had barely picked up the first patient file from the clinic desk when Cuddy's voice cut across the clinic. "Dr Foreman, into my office, please." She stood leaning against the door of her office, her arms folded over her chest.

Foreman raised his eyebrows, but complied. Cuddy let him pass her and closed the door behind him. She gestured at the chair in front of the desk, sitting down on her chair before she spoke again. "Congratulations on solving your first case."

"Thank you." Foreman smirked.

"Although I heard that you didn't solve it."

Foreman' smile faded. "We're a team, Dr Cuddy. That was no different when House was here."

"I meant: your team didn't solve it. Your patient's online advisers did."

"It's normal to get impulses from other sources: medical books, journals, and nowadays the internet. It's how you use the information that's decisive."

Cuddy leaned forward. "We're not talking information here. We're talking about a correct diagnosis based solely on the information your patient put on the net, a diagnosis your team was incapable of reaching despite full access to the patient and his test results."

"If this had happened to House, I doubt you'd be complaining," Foreman pointed out.

"If I put one of those off-hour hackers from the IT department onto it, I'm sure that he'll be able to track down the source of your diagnosis."

"So?" A lesser man might have added, 'what!'

"However, I'm willing to make an educated guess myself: he was probably logging in from Hamilton Avenue, Princeton." Clearly, that piece of information meant nothing to Foreman, although he looked slightly uneasy for the first time. Cuddy elucidated, "That's where Wilson lives."

Realisation dawned slowly like the sun after an Antarctic Winter.

"And where House is staying at the moment," Cuddy continued. (House would have added, 'Ker-chunk!')

"Starting Monday, House will be sitting in on your differentials." Cuddy's tone was all business.

"In what capacity?"

"As a consultant." At Foreman's questioning look she added, "He hasn't got a licence at present."

"So when he gets his accreditation I lose the department."

"That's an issue you don't need to worry about just now." Cuddy seemed to think that the papers cluttering her desk needed a reshuffling.

"I think I do. How long can it take him to get his 120 hours?"

"House won't be doing his hours."

Something in her voice made Foreman look up sharply. "Why not?"

Now Cuddy's hesitation was tangible. "Health issues."

"The only issues that could prevent House from regaining his licence are ones that impair his judgment - he's still hallucinating?" Foreman's eyes widened.

Cuddy was silent.

"Look, can't he consult from home? Do we have to have him here? He could be a hazard."

"He's driving Wilson crazy: cooking non-stop, playing his guitar in the middle of the night, re-organising the household. Wilson is sleep-deprived and on the verge of a collapse. I can't afford to lose two department heads in one year."

"You're asking me to babysit him."

"I'm not asking you, Dr Foreman."

"And if I refuse?" Foreman leaned back and crossed his arms in turn.

"Then I close down the department. I'm sure I can place the others in other departments at the hospital."

They stared at each other. Foreman was the first to drop his eyes. He rose with an exasperated huff.

"Good," Cuddy said as she picked up her pen.

III The Tyrant, Instant Karma, Brave Heart

Wherein Wilson explains some of the goings-on at the hospital to Cuddy, who then makes a hasty decision.

"Can I sit down at your table?"

Wilson looked up from his food. Cuddy loomed over him, a tray with a plate of salad and a bottle of water in her hands. He pulled his tray towards himself to make room. "Sure."

Cuddy sat down and picked up her fork. "You're looking better. Relaxed."

"It's been a lot easier on me now that House is back here at the hospital."

"But not for me. He's driving both his team and my staff insane." She impaled a leaf of buttercruncb.

"He's always done that," Wilson pointed out.

"There's always been a reason, even if it was one only he could understand, but now ..."

"I'm sure there's an explanation for everything."

Cuddy waved her fork at Wilson. "Fine, explain! He ruined Dr Hadley's vacation by cancelling her flight."

"Ummm, he thinks Foreman fired her. By cancelling her flight he's trying to keep her here. You know how much he hates change." This was Wilson's 'oncologist' voice, the one in which he explained to mothers of three young children that the purpose of their chemo treatment was purely palliative.

"But she's coming back! She's just on vacation for two weeks. Foreman didn't fire her - why should he?" Wilson shrugged non-committally. "Why didn't you tell him that Foreman hasn't fired her? Why are you letting him believe his hallucinations?"

Wilson rubbed the back of his neck. "I tried. In the end it was easier booking Thirteen a new flight."

Cuddy huffed in exasperation. "You can't keep shielding him from himself. He needs to know."

"I know, but I prefer to choose my battles with care."

Cuddy threw up her hands. "Fine - he's your responsibility, not mine! What about Chase and Cameron? Cameron's come to me complaining that he's been harassing them with insensitive comments."

Wilson picked his words with care. "He's finding it difficult to accept that they've split up."

"You mean he believes that they got married."

""Well, ... yeah." The skin at the back of Wilson's neck was beginning to wear thin.

"Oh, for chrissake, Wilson! Anyone could see that it wasn't going to happen. Even Chase is not fool enough to marry Cameron when she has the hots for House."

"What can I say? He's an incurable romantic who likes to think that he brought them together."

"But he can't be blind to the fact that they're basically avoiding each other now."

"No, so the explanation he's concocted is that Chase killed Dibala and is now avoiding Cameron to escape her censure."

"What?!" Cuddy's fork clattered onto her tray.

Wilson raised both palms placatingly. "Don't worry, Chase did nothing of the sort."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." Cuddy didn't look convinced, so Wilson continued reluctantly, "Chase came to me before the M&M hearing. House was slipping odd papers into the Dibala file and Chase didn't know what to make of it."

"And?"

"I talked to House. He thought he'd found evidence that would clear Chase, so he planted it in the file."

"And what evidence was that?"

"No evidence. It was the minutes of the last oncology department meeting, but House believed it was some old medical records of Dibala's."

Cuddy stared at Wilson with tight lips.

"I told Chase to go along with it," Wilson admitted.

"Wilson!"

Wilson leaned forward, his hands and arms gesturing in parallel lines to emphasise his argument. "Look, this is an enormous step for House: caring for one of his co-workers. He's bonding. He even gave Chase some personal advice."

Cuddy, sadly, didn't share Wilson's enthusiasm. "Do I even want to know what it was?"

"It wasn't bad; he told Chase to go see a priest."

"But if Chase didn't kill Dibala he doesn't need a confessional."

"It doesn't do any harm. If House is looking out for his fellow men, who am I to question the necessity of it?"

Cuddy returned to her original agenda. "So what do I tell Cameron?"

"His remarks about their relationship (or non-relationship) are no worse than they used to be. Cameron is in a funk because she thinks that what we're doing with House is unethical."

"She may have a point," Cuddy said drily.

"Cuddy, he's happy here. Even if I got Mayfield to take him back - and I'm not saying I could - he'd be miserable there. Look at the up-side: he's saved two patients." Cuddy gave him her good-try-but-it's-not-enough look. "He's happier than he's ever been since the infarction. Don't you want him to be happy?"

Cuddy broke eye contact to look at her plate. She stabbed a tomato. "He's terrorising my staff. Yesterday he stalked Singh during his rounds, today it was my turn."

"He believes he's doing his hours for his accreditation."

"Oh, no! I can't have him doing that for another 118 hours. Can't you keep him at home when he doesn't have a patient?"

Wilson grimaced. "Not a good idea."

Cuddy leaned her chin on her hand.

"He kidnapped my neighbour last week," Wilson muttered in answer to her unspoken question.

"I don't want to know!" Cuddy decided. She tapped the fingers of her free hand on the tray, then she came to a decision. "I'll tell him that I'll sign for all his hours because the rules are stupid and clearly not meant for him."

Wilson snorted. "Now who's supporting his delusions?"

"Oh, be quiet!"

"He'll be expecting his licence back."

"Then I'll give him one." Having solved the problem to her satisfaction she returned her attention to her food.

"You ... can't," Wilson pointed out, dumbfounded. "Only the board can; and they won't, not as long as Nolan doesn't certify that he's healthy."

"House doesn't look at his paperwork. I'll bet he never as much as peeked at his former licence, and he won't spare this one a glance. He'll never notice it's a fraud."

"And what happens if he wants to examine patients or carry out medical procedures?"

"Let his team deal with that. It's what I pay them for."

Wilson scratched his eyebrow with his thumbnail. "They might have had somewhat different job descriptions in mind when they started working for House."

"Without House, they won't have any jobs to describe." She gave Wilson one of her bright, tight smiles.

IV Known Unknowns

Treats of how Cuddy gains a boyfriend while Wilson loses a lucrative post.

Wilson found Cuddy in the afternoon sun outside the conference centre, watching Rachel as she scooted around on her bobby car. He stood beside her, hands dug into his pockets.

Cuddy broke the silence. "That was the awkwardest coffee break ever."

"Hmmm."

She looked up at him sideways. "What did House mean?"

"I understood him to want ginger ale. With lemon."

"Don't mess with me, Wilson. What did he mean when he asked how 'we crazy kids hooked up'?" She sketched quotation marks in the air.

Wilson sighed. "He believes that you're seeing someone."

"I got that. I also got that he was seeing the person I'm supposedly 'seeing' sitting on the chair next to me. What I don't get is why he suddenly thinks that I'm dating someone. I'm not."

"It's the logical conclusion he's reached after analysing the evidence."

"Excuse me, what evidence?"

"Last evening you left him standing on the dance floor." There was a hint of accusation in his voice.

"I had to. He was on the verge of making a move on me. What was I supposed to do, wait for him to kiss me?"

Wilson avoided Cuddy's eyes. She narrowed them at him. "You don't expect me to let him kiss me, do you?"

"I'm not saying you should kiss him, but don't act surprised if your ice maiden act has him wondering. He has detoxed, he's been clean for months, he's been attentive, yet you're colder than you were when he was chugging pills like they were breath mints."

Cuddy stemmed her hands on her hips. "Oh no, Wilson, you don't get to guilt me into doing something that unethical, just so your best friend doesn't get his hopes quashed!"

"Don't! I get enough of that from Cameron." Wilson turned away, running a hand through his hair.

"What, House is hitting on her too?"

"God, no! She might be less of a pain if he was. 'Unethical' makes up a large part of her current vocabulary. She's of the opinion that leaving House in his, uh, beliefs is morally highly reprehensible."

Cuddy grimaced before returning to her own problems. "Even House isn't so narcissistic as to suppose that I'm dating just because I won't kiss him."

"There was the thing with Rachel." Again, Wilson's tone was somewhat disapproving. Cuddy raised her eyebrows enquiringly. "You said you had her in daycare and didn't need a babysitter when that obviously wasn't true."

"It's not my fault if he walks into the room uninvited and spots Rachel. Don't look at me like that, Wilson; I can't let a man who is hallucinating babysit my daughter."

"I get that, but he doesn't, so his mind came up with the only logical explanation: you don't want him to kiss you or babysit for you because you've already got someone to do all that."

Cuddy shook her head in disbelief. Spotting Rachel dangerously close to the edge ot the patio, she rushed forward to stop her. When she returned to Wilson's side, she looked thoughtful. "You know, this could be a Good Thing. Lately, House has been getting too amorous for my taste. Does this guy I'm seeing have a name?"

"Lucas."

"Okay, Lucas. Does he have any other attributes - last name, job, and so on - or can I invent those freely?"

Wilson rocked to and fro uncomfortably. "Umm, Cuddy, he's a real person. He exists. His name is Lucas Douglas."

"The PI?" Cuddy frowned.

"Yes. You know him?"

"House introduced us. I've been giving him work around the hopsital investigating irregularities in finances and the pharmacy. .... House can't possibly believe I'd date Lucas Douglas!"

"From what House said I gather that Douglas finds you attractive."

"He flirts like hell every time we meet, but dating him would be totally inappropriate. Ewwww! He must be ten years younger than me."

Wilson was beginning to enjoy this. "Oh, House is all for equal opportunity. Lots of men date younger women. Why shouldn't you .... "

"Don't tease me! It isn't just his age. If House has the maturity of a teen then Lucas is still stuck in elementary school. There's no way I'd do him, and House had better not think I would! I'm not so desperate or frustrated!"

"I'll tell him," Wilson promised, grinning.

"You'd better. I'll never live it down if he runs into Lucas at the hospital and insinuates that he and I ... Am I boring you?" Cuddy interrupted herself as Wilson yawned discreetly behind his hand.

"No, I'm still a little tired."

"You worked late on your paper? How'd it go today?" Cuddy's guilt at forgetting about Wilson's paper was stamped all over her face.

"It didn't. House drugged me - which is why I'm still a bit drowsy - and presented the paper instead."

Cuddy's face mirrored incredulity and amusement in equal parts.

"Yes," Wilson continued somewhat bitterly, "his erudite, yet empathetic sentiments on euthanasia had the audience enthralled."

"You ... submitted a paper on euthanasia?" The incredulity remained, the amusement was replaced by dismay.

"My paper was on 'New Applications of Cryotherapy in the Treatment of Stage 2 Lung Cancer'. Give me credit for not jeopardising my career, and yours for that matter, without informing you first," Wilson said testily.

"And you tell me this now?" Cuddy's voice rose in pitch and volume. "Both of us will probably be fired when we get back to Princeton if I don't do some serious damage control here."

"Relax, he did it under a false name."

Cuddy shook her head in disbelief, but calmed down noticeably. "If he didn't do it to screw with you, then why did he do it?"

"He's got this fixed idea that I am about to commit professional suicide ranting about ethical dilemmas in oncology, so he knocked me out cold and held the talk in my stead."

"Why would he ... no, wait, I know. Cryotherapy, huh? You're aiming for that new oncology chair at Boston University, aren't you, and the paper on Cryptherapy was a step towards that chair."

Wilson ran his hand through his hair, unable to meet Cuddy's eyes. "I ... look, Cuddy ... yes."

"House's subconscious figured it out and opted to sabotage you. He doesn't want to lose you, Wilson."

"But ... I'm doing it for him. I'd be more flexible in a teaching job, and there's an institution near Boston that would take him."

"He doesn't know that. He is convinced that he's tied to his job at PPTH, thanks to you and your weird policy of letting him believe his delusions."

Wilson pointed an accusing finger at Cuddy. "Oh, come along, Lisa, now the pot is calling the kettle black, isn't it? You're quite happy to have him hoodwinked when it suits your purposes."

Cuddy quickly changed the topic. "This isn't getting us anywhere. How did House get at the meds to drug you?"

"He ... ah .... may have helped himself to my emergency supply."

"You keep a supply of knockout pills on you?"

"Yes. Just in case the situation gets out of hand and I have to ... have to get House under control."

"That seems to be working well! Have you ever used them on him?"

Wilson was silent.

"Oh god, Wilson! This can't continue. He'll harm himself or someone else if we don't put a stop to this." Cuddy worried her bottom lip. "Can't you wheedle Nolan into taking him back?"

"Mayfield didn't have him under control any more than we do. That overnight pass wasn't the first time House escaped. Before that he stole a visitor's car and took a fellow patient for a joy ride. The only reason he didn't get into more serious trouble after that was because he hallucinated that his pal jumped off the park deck and crippled himself. That made him slightly more amenable to therapy - for some time."

"Oh God! And what really happened?"

"Nothing. The guy was in a wheelchair most of his life, but House thought he was some sort of superhero." Wilson had by now acquired the ability to make House's delusions sound commonplace.

"So what do we do now?"

"We keep House as busy as possible. He's fine as long as he isn't bored."

Part 2 here