Faith in Angels The House Fan Fiction Archive Home Quicksearch Search Engine Random Story Upload Story   Faith in Angels by Jackyblu Dr. Gregory House is sitting in Wilson's office with his feet on Wilson's desk. Dr. James Wilson is sitting at his desk working on some charts. Wilson glances up. What are you staring at? You. Why? No reason. Okay... No. Stop it! It's getting on my nerves. Is it? You know it is. Of course I do. I just wanted to see how long it was going to take for you to tell me to quit. You're bored again, aren't you? Yup. God help me! He should help me. I'm the one who's bored. You think He has angels for that? The parking lot angel, the spare change angel, the boredom angel? If He did, I would become a believer in a New Jersey minute. Not if His existence couldn't be proven scientifically. You don't have a modicum of faith. Do too! Now that was a retort truely worthy of the Algonquin Round Table. What it lacked in wit, it more than made up for in brevity. Nuh uh. Did too! Jerk! Ass! How much time did that take? About two minutes. So another five hours and thirty-seven minutes to go. Serves you right for curing your patient in, what, an hour? Closer to two, but who's counting. You were! I distinctly remember you gimping in here to announce the time and add a touching, "In your face Oncology Boy!" Can't help it. I'm all about the sharing. Touching. Next time please check to see if I am with a patient when you feel the need to gloat. I had to explain why it took me two years to get his cancer under control. If you worked more and flirted less... Oh yes! I'm always found wandering the hallways looking for nubile babes to ensnare. Aren't you? Sometimes. I still work harder than you! Do not! Do too! Glad we cleared that up. Me too. How much time now? Five minutes tops. Hmmm. Too early for lunch. Too late for breakfast. Coffee break? Could be. You buying? That's rhetorical isn't it? Yes. I resent being your coffee and lunch angel. No you don't. Yes I do! If you did, you wouldn't keep paying. I'm not going to, one of these days. Until then, unfold your wings, get out your wallet and buy me some coffee. I don't like you. Yes you do. Idiot! Moron! Coffee? Okay. I just need to finish this chart. Gimme. The patient survived. There. You're done. Let's go. This one passed last night. Oops. My bad. Cross out survived and write died. Okay, let's go. So compassionate. How long was this patient coming to you? Actually, just a week. Holding out for another opinion and a miracle. One week? You're permitted a single tear. Did you even learn his name in that time? William Scott Rhodes. Yeah. Read that on the chart. Did he find his miracle? Did He put in an appearance? Not that I saw. Something strange did happen though. What? You saw an angel come and take him? Did he look like Nicholas Cage from that Meg Ryan movie? Oh! How about Buck Henry from Warren Beatty's 'Heaven Can Wait'? No. Didn't see an angel. But the patient's pain index dropped from an eight, to two. Morphine. Been there, done that. Didn't get the t-shirt though, only one missing from my collection. Without drugs. Spent the last few days speaking coherently with family and friends. Actually heard him laughing not too long before the end. He just fell asleep and that was it. No drugs? Nothing but IV fluids. No mistake? Nope. That's weird. I thought 'weird works for you'? Not this weird. It was like the pain center of his brain just quit transmitting. Autopsy? Cancer killed him. Well duh! Did you check the brain for abnormalities to explain the cessation of pain? You hoping for a miracle? Something to turn off your own pain? Did you! Yes. It was completely clean. Not possible. I saved it for you. You saved the guy's autopsy for me? Just in case you were bored. Really? No you limping twerp! I wanted your opinion. When were you going to ask me? Just before we went for coffee. I planned on plying you with coffee and Danish and then ask for a favor. Not necessary now. The coffee and Danish still is. Not really. Now you're interested. I could take your cane and beat you with it and you would still do it. Well especially if you're offering to get rough with me. So? So? You didn't answer my question. I haven't seen the guy yet! I'm an exceptional diagnostician, but I still need to see the body. Not that question. Are you looking for a miracle? There are no miracles. There are coincidences and bad breaks. Things just happen? That's your explanation for what occurs in life? Shit happens. Someone made a bumper sticker out of that because it's true. All of life's lessons can be found on the bumpers of cars? Pretty much. Trite, and very sad. See, there you go! 'Life is trite and very sad'. That'd look good on your 'vette'. It's so you! You don't paste platitudes on classic cars. That's immoral. God forbid! What has He ever done for you that made you such a member of His fan club? Brought us together? That was Michigan. Big campus. We might never have met. We were both studying medicine. We had classes together! You could have already graduated. You would have if you hadn't gone for a second degree. I'm an over-achiever. It was a coincidence that we were both there at the same time. It was fate not faith. I thought you said you had some faith. In you. You are the only angel in my life. I am the only person in your life. That's what makes it a miracle. That was incredibly sentimental. Was not! Was too! Wanker! Schmuck! How much time? About fifteen minutes. Where are the time angels when you need them? Time angels? The one's that make time go faster when you are dreading something that's coming, like dinner with your parents or clinic duty. Come on. Your coffee and Danish angel is ready to provide sustenance for your soul. Do you think they exist? Who? Angels? Yeah. I don't know. If they do, I hope they are watching over my brother. Yeah. What do you think? That I should have died. Twice. I didn't though. Why? Guardian angel? I would need to make a huge leap of faith to believe that. I don't seem to be able to leap as well as I used to. Is that why you have no use for Him? Because of your leg? You said it yourself. His existence can't be proven scientifically. Neither can the sudden drop in my patient's pain. We'll find the answer. There is always an answer isn't there? God only knows. He'll tell me. God loves to brag, especially to His critics. What if you can't find the cause? Nowthat would be a miracle. You're not always right you know. Neither is He. He picked the wrong guy to cripple. I thought everything was either coincidence or bad luck? Shit happening. When it happens to me, it's personal. I don't have discussions with fecal matter. You have discussions with God? I admit they are a bit one-sided. At the synagogue I attend we call that praying. You haven't been to synagogue in years. I still remember my way there. You on the other hand have no idea where the Presbyterians gather. Sure I do. I just look in the front pew for my mother. Then I limp out the side door. Still...you praying? Bitchin' God out. He has a few things to explain. 'If you talk to God you're religious. If God talks to you, you're crazy'. 'Psychotic.' If you're gonna quote me, get it right. Sorry. Let me know if He gets back to you regarding the secrets of the universe. I'll tell you the secret of how to be happy. What? Having your best friend buy you coffee and a Danish just before you get to do an autopsy on one of his patients. Ah. I always suspected as much. I'll be reaping the rewards of positive Karma for years to come. The autopsy may take hours. I may miss clinic duty today. As a matter of fact, I asked that you be released from that responsibility today. Finding out why this guy stopped having pain from advanced terminal cancer could be a Godsend to every chronic pain sufferer. There has to be a paper in this as well. May take a couple of weeks. You are my angel! You have restored my faith and lifted my soul. You have a soul? That's a miracle. Geek. Twit. Wimp. Crip. Friends? Always! Thank God.   Please post a comment on this story. 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.