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Choices
by Jackyblu
Dedicated to Joyce, Brenda, Karen, Shannon, Irene, Marian and Tegan, because they made the choice to be my friends.
*
"We've got to stop meeting like this," House said squinting into the bright light. He sat up and frowned. What had happened this time? Oh right! Beers, Vicodin, motorcycle...not his best move. Wilson was going to give him a BIG, 'I told you so!'
"Greg, I don't know if its recklessness or you're just a slow learner. Don't you have any regard for human life?"
"I became a doctor didn't I?" House answered grumpily, shielding his eyes from the light.
"Your life Greg."
"I didn't go looking for that truck." House stood up and dusted off his jeans, although they were perfectly clean. The light toned down and became easier on his eyes.
"But you made the situation optimal by abusing drugs and drinking. Then you jumped on that fool machine of yours and drove it way to fast."
"Who are you, my mother?"
"No. I'm your Father."
"Oh snap!" House answered rolling his eyes. "Look Dad, I don't mind these little 'talks' we have, especially since I don't believe either of us is here right now."
"And yet, you keep coming back."
"Synapses misfiring, disruption of the optical nerve, hallucinations...who knows?" House offered as explanation.
"I do."
"Right, I forgot, all knowing."
"That's right."
"All forgiving?"
"Within reason."
"All loving?"
"Yes."
"You have a damn funny way of showing it," House sniped.
"How so?"
"Well unless I am very much mistaken, I'm dead...again."
"Not exactly dead...yet."
"Would you mind explaining to me what I did to deserve your wrath?"
"What makes you think I am angry with you Greg?"
House made the face he reserved for very thick clinic patients, "Well, I'm dying...duh."
"I had nothing to do with that. That was you screwing around with a little thing called 'free will'."
House made a somewhat shocked face. "Is it appropriate for the Almighty to say 'screwing' around?"
"Just communicating in a language you'll understand. Besides, I created sex too."
"And on behalf of us mere mortals, I would like to thank you for that," House said nodding his head.
"You're welcome."
"Getting back to this 'free will' thingy, you're saying this was my fault."
"Wasn't it?"
"Maybe."
"Greg...?"
"Okay...this time. But not the other two! There was not 'free will' enacted there," he declared stubbornly.
"Oh?"
"Are you trying to tell me that it was my fault I got shot?"
"I am not trying to tell you anything. I know better than that."
"The guy just came in and shot me!" House's eyebrows arched so high they almost disappeared into his hairline.
"What guy?"
"Are you kidding? What did you do, blink?"
"Sorry. 'General Hospital' was on."
House rolled his eyes. "Funny, a comedic deity! I am referring to my ex-patient who shot me in the stomach and neck!"
"Now why would a patient shoot his doctor?"
"How about..." House screwed his face up in mock concentration. "He was insane?"
"Partially. Any other reason he might have been a bit irritated at you?"
"Maybe..." House placed a sheepish look on his face.
"Maybe you might have 'pushed' an unstable person a little too close to the edge by your disdain for his suffering?"
"Well that's a bit harsh," House answered, his blue eyes opened wide.
"The truth usually is. But you know that, don't you Greg?"
"Alright, but my leg and the heart attack..."
"Were exactly what you requested."
House tapped his finger against his chin in a mocking way. "Hmm, I am pretty sure I would remember asking you for a heart attack and a crippled leg."
"You didn't in so many words."
"Ah ha!" He shook his index finger triumphantly.
"What you asked for was to keep your leg."
"It is mine."
"Yes it is."
"So the choice should have been mine, " he bit out.
"You chose to keep the leg and have the clot removed knowing as a doctor that you would have toxins wash back into your system including the potassium that caused your heart to stop."
Now House was angry. "So you're saying I was destined to loose my leg?" He snarled.
"No, I'm saying that you had a choice."
"My leg or my life? Your choices suck!"
"You created a third choice for yourself though."
"Too have Cuddy put me into a coma until the worst of the pain passed. You saw how well that worked for me. I woke up missing the better part of my right thigh!"
"Another exercise in 'free will'."
"I chose to be put into the coma. I did not choose to have my thigh muscle removed!"
"No you didn't. Stacey did. She made a choice."
"She didn't have the right!" His eyes were tearing at the recollection. He wiped them with irritation.
"She thought she was saving your life. You did make her your health proxy, so technically she did have the right."
"The Lord Jehovah is going to talk to me about the law now?"
"I did write the first ten you know."
"Oh right! Moses was your mouthpiece. I forgot." He was calming down a little and fixed a sarcastic little half smile on his face.
"Snide comments aside...which I forgive you for, by the way; you made the choice to make Stacey your proxy. She chose to save your life by having the muscle removed.
"Did she save my life? Was I wrong about the toxins washing from my system eventually?"
"What do you think Greg?"
"I think I was right," he answered quietly.
"Then what difference does it make?"
"I'd like to be certain."
"There are no certainties in life."
"What about death?" He wanted to add, 'and taxes' but he wasn't feeling all that cocky right now.
"You keep proving that there is no certainty in death either. Gravely ill patients get better, and relatively healthy ones die."
House narrowed his eyes. "Why is that? Do you decide who dies and when?"
"Not exactly. Doctors are a great deal of help in that area."
"Because of the treatments we prescribe?"
"Because of the choices you make."
"And so it all goes back to 'free will' right?"
"Right."
A powerful shiver racked House's body. "God, it's cold here!"
"Not here, but I'm sure where you are now it is getting very cold."
"If I'm not here...which I know by the way; then where am I?"
"On a road in Princeton, lying under that motorcycle of yours, bleeding onto the street."
"Oh." House's face fell. "How long have I been there?"
"In mortal terms, about twenty minutes."
"So I stand a good chance of bleeding out."
"Depends on the choice you make doesn't it?"
"Which choice is that?"
"To live or die."
"I'd prefer to live if it's all the same to you," he answered sincerely, an open look on his face.
"If that's your choice."
"It is."
"That's what I wanted to hear."
"You're sending me back?" He asked hopefully.
"This is three. Don't screw it up."
"Lord?"
"Yes Greg?"
"Is there any particular reason you look and sound like Wilson?"
"Yes."
"And...?"
The sound of sirens and human voices caused House to open his eyes.
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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