Chapter Text
"Seizing. Wilson, I need help here!" Chase yelled grabbing onto House to try and prevent him from hurting himself as he seized. Wilson was quick to help the blonde man, moving on instinct grabbing a syringe of Ativan and injecting it Ativan and injecting it into House's arm while Chase rolled him onto his side. Once the seizure had stopped, Wilson left, leaving Chase to take care of House.
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When House woke up, it had become night. A brunette woman sat beside his bed, watching over him, and when she noticed he was awake, she hurried to check up on him.
"Hey, I'm here. Blink if you can hear me." She seemed worried about him, so House did as instructed. The brunette sighed at that and House opened his mouth to ask her some questions, but she cut him off. "No, shh, don't try to talk. Just rest." A wave of exhaustion ran over House at her words, so he shut his eyes and immediately drifted back to sleep.
The next time House wakes up, the brunette woman is asleep in his room, and a brunette man stands at the door looking at him. Once the man saw that House was awake, he excused himself from the room, and House couldn't explain the sorrow that flooded his body as he watched the man leave. House stayed awake for another minute, searching for some kind of answer, but his thoughts were cut short as his body pulled him back into sleep.
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When House woke up a third time, daylight shone through the windows of his room, and the brunette woman was busying herself with reading over his chart.
"Where am I?" He asked, hoping she could answer his ever-growing list of questions. The woman dropped the chart on the foot of his bed, before checking him over quickly. His heart rate and O2 levels were normal, and she hadn't noticed any abnormalities in his chart. House was going to be okay.
"You're in the hospital. You had a seizure after the deep brain stimulation. Jesus Christ House you could have died. Do you have no sense of self-preservation?" The woman asked, and the memory of sitting in a chair unable to move his head. He heard someone talk behind him but the words were too fuzzy to make out. The brunette man he saw the night before was in the room with him. He said something to House, and House responded in turn, their conversation gibberish in House's memory. They continued their back and forth until House began seizing, and a blonde man appeared from behind him to stabilize him.
When House didn't answer Cuddy became concerned, moving to meet the other's gaze. "House. Is everything alright?" She asked. House's eyes were distant, but they refocused on her when she spoke. She seemed to care about House, and that reassured him a little, but there were still more questions that he needed answers to.
"Who are you?" House asked finally. House was thrown into a coughing fit, his mouth and throat too dry to continue speaking. The brunette woman looked at him in concern, before grabbing a small paper cup and filling it with water, before pressing the cup to House's mouth.
"Not the time for games House." Cuddy scolded the man as he eagerly drank the offered water. Once he'd finished, she tossed the cup and stood up from the bed. "Cameron will be in later to check up on you, let her know if you need anything." Cuddy was about to leave House's bedside, already imagining the stack of paper that built up while she was waiting on House. She made a step towards the door before a hand was on her wrist. Cuddy whirled around, ready to give House a piece of her mind, already too emotional because of the previous night's events, but stopped when her eyes met House's. He looked desperate and uncertain, a look Cuddy had never seen on the diagnostician's face.
"Who are you?" House asked again, and dread filled Cuddy's stomach when she noticed no sign House was joking. She sat back down, a look of worry briefly crossing her face, before she masked the emotion with a calm collected expression.
"I'm Dr. Lisa Cuddy. I'm the Dean of Medicine at Princeton Plainsboro and your boss." When no sign of recognition crossed House's face she continued. "You're Dr. Gregory House. You run the Diagnostics department here at Princeton. You were recently in a bus accident, and you underwent a dangerous procedure to try and save someone."
House took in all of the information, finding none of it familiar, but trusting the kind brunette, Cuddy. The name seemed to suit the woman more than her first, and House found it felt right to refer to her by her last name. She waited for him to say something, anything, but when House remained quiet, Cuddy raked a hand through her messy hair.
"I'm going to call your team here. They should be able to help answer any more of your questions. If you need anything, they'll get it for you." This time Cuddy didn't wait for House to respond, she was out the door in an instant. Once she was safely back in her office, Cuddy paged House's team, calling them to her office before sending them to House. They needed some kind of warning. The look of worry returned to Cuddy's face and she could feel tears building behind her eyes. As much as House annoyed her, she never wanted this for him. There was a knock at her office door so Cuddy schooled her expression, before calling them in.
House's team was confused at the page, wondering why Cuddy urgently called the entire team to her office. Cuddy sat at her desk looking frazzled, and the team figured it had something to do with their boss. "What did he do now?" Foreman asked, overtired and not willing to put up with his boss's antics.
Cuddy shot him a glare, which puzzled the team. If House had messed with Cuddy, she should be as annoyed as Foreman, if not more so. The dean sighed, lacing her hands together and resting her head on top of them as she tried to find the words to explain. "There was a complication with the deep brain stimulation. As I'm sure you all know House had a seizure. He just woke up and-" Cuddy cut off, her throat closing at the idea that this was real and that House had actually forgotten her. "House didn't recognize me. He didn't know where he was either. I think he has amnesia. I want the four of you to keep an eye on him. Answer any of his questions, and keep me updated on how he's doing and if his memories return." Cuddy began sorting through her pile of paperwork, needing the distraction, she looked up at House's team when they didn't leave. Thirteen and Kutner both looked worried for their boss, Taub seemed a bit concerned, but he masked it better than the other two, and Foreman looked indifferent, figuring House did this to himself.
When no one said anything, Cuddy sighed in frustration. "You're dismissed. Go take care of your boss before he accidentally hurt himself." The team took another moment, but then they got to work, leaving her office and heading towards House's hospital room.
House was watching TV when his team entered the room. A blonde woman who looked like she was almost in tears turned it on for him after checking his vitals. She had identified herself as Dr. Cameron when House asked. She turned back to House once before leaving and House could see the tears welling in her eyes. He didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything and she left.
Now his room was being invaded by four people who all looked like doctors. Three men and a woman who all seemed to recognize him, but House couldn't identify them. The woman took a seat beside his bed, while the Indian Doctor stood beside her. The other two men stood near the door, unsure of what they should be doing to help their boss in this state. The black doctor was the first to speak.
"I don't believe he actually lost his memory. He's probably faking to mess with us." Foreman said, shooting a dirty look at House. House didn't like the implication, and glared back at the man but said nothing. The female doctor shot a similar look at the man, before returning her gaze to House.
"I'm Dr. Remy Hadley, though you can call me Thirteen. It's a nickname. You also call me Huntingtons sometimes when you want to annoy me." The woman carefully watched House's expression. There was no sign of recognition, instead, he looked empathetic.
"You have Huntington's? I'm sorry. At least it doesn't seem to have affected you yet." House said. He stopped when he saw the woman's face morph into one of bewilderment and found that the other three doctors wore matching expressions.
"Do you still think he's faking?" The short doctor who stood at the door asked the doctor standing beside him. Instead of responding, the black doctor moved closer to House's bed.
"I'm Dr. Eric Foreman. I've worked with you the longest. This is Dr. Lawrence Kutner." Foreman said, gesturing to the Indian doctor standing beside his bed. "And this is Dr. Chris Taub. We are the Diagnostic team at Princeton. We solve medical cases that no other doctor can. And you are the head of the Diagnostic department." The four remained with House until all of his questions were answered and he fell back asleep. The team stepped out of his room before heading back to their conference room. Things were going to change with House's memory gone, and they needed to be prepared for the change.
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Cuddy had finally finished most of her paperwork when a knock sounded at her door. She called the person in, not looking up from her newest file. The door opened and Wilson walked inside, being sure to shut the door quietly behind him to not disturb Cuddy. Wilson was wearing jeans and a sweater, having spent the day at home after Amber passed. His eyes were red, and his hair was a mess. Wilson sat himself in front of Cuddy's desk and waited for her to give him her attention. When she did, her heart sank at Wilson's state. She'd given him some time off to work through his emotions, but Cuddy hadn't expected him back at the hospital so soon. Her eyes caught on an envelope in Wilson's hand, and dread coursed through her veins.
"I need to get away from Princeton. There are too many memories here. Everywhere I look I see Amber and it's all too much. I wrote up a letter of resignation for you. I've already talked with another hospital and they've got a job lined up for me." Wilson placed the envelope on Cuddy's desk, and the woman looked at it like the paper would burn her.
"Wilson, I get that it is painful, but isn't leaving your job taking things a bit far. Give it some time. Things will get easier. Besides right now House-" The man cut her off, looking far more frustrated than she expected.
"House will be fine without me. He's a grown man and he doesn't need a babysitter." Wilson spit out the words, and Cuddy wasn't sure how to respond. Wilson was the only one who put up with House through everything. Wilson was the only person House couldn't push away, and now he was leaving.
"Have you talked with House?" Cuddy asked, wondering if the oncologist was aware of House's state. Wilson shook his head, crossing his arms in front of his check.
"I can't deal with him anymore Cuddy. He pushes our relationship to the breaking point, and I just put up with it. All of his pranks and jokes. I can't do it anymore." Cuddy didn't want to be the one to tell Wilson about House's amnesia, she wished the man would take with House and figure it out himself, but that wasn't going to happen with Wilson as upset as he was.
"I really think you should talk to House before you go through with this. He needs you, Wilson." Wilson gave a short cold laugh, and got up from his chair. He shouldn't have expected any other reaction, Cuddy was always roping him into taking care of House, and it was no different now.
"I can't live my life catering to House's needs. If he wants to push me away, then congrats he's succeeded. You can't expect me to live my life chasing after House. I need to live my own life, and that's what I'm doing. I'll finish off my last two weeks, but then I am leaving. And I won't be changing my mind. With that, Wilson stormed out of Cuddy's office, and the woman couldn't help but sigh. Things were going to be rough for her in the near future.
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The next two weeks went by in a blur. Wilson was busy handing over his patients to the other oncologists and packing up his things. House hadn't visited him once, which Wilson was thankful for, and finally, it was his last day. Wilson's office felt strange without all of his belongings, but he reminded himself that after today this would no longer be his office. He was wishing farewell to the nurses who worked for him when the diagnostic team found him.
"We need to talk to you." Thirteen said, pulling Wilson aside so that they could chat more privately. Wilson went willingly, already guessing what they were going to talk about. "Have you talked with House? He keeps staring at your office in a daze. I think it would really help if you could talk with him, even if just for a little bit." The five of them found themselves in an empty exam room, the diagnostic team surrounding Wilson.
"Whatever House wants to say, I don't want to hear it. I'm done being his friend, his punching bag. I'm sick of being miserable because of House. Whatever it is you guys are trying to achieve, I want no part in it." Wilson pushed past the group of doctors, excusing himself from the exam room. The four watched the oncologist walk away, leaving the hospital and knew that he wasn't coming back. They didn't know how to tell House in his current state, or how he might reach if his memories returned and Wilson was gone, but they would have to figure it out soon, otherwise their job was going to become a living hell.