Practical Insanity

“I honestly don’t know if I’m more surprised that he’s awake or that you’re voluntarily going to visit a patient,” Wilson commented as he caught up to House.

“Personally, I’m more surprised at Cameron’s new highlights than anything,” House diverted as he pushed open the door to the mystery patient’s room. “You’re awake!” he announced. “Now you can tell us who the hell you are.”

The man, a tall guy in his mid-to-late-twenties with dark hair, regarded the doctors warily. “You first,” he stated.

“Oh, all right,” House sighed dramatically. “But only because you asked so nicely. I’m Dr. House, and I’m currently in charge of your case. This is Dr. Wilson. Now it’s your turn.”

“Angel,” he answered simply. House waited for more, but it didn’t come.

“And… that would be first or last?” he finally enquired.

“Am I in a hospital?” Angel asked, ignoring House’s question.

“Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital,” Wilson answered before House could antagonize the patient too much.

“Can I ask why, exactly?” Angel pressed, speaking a little slowly, as if he were trying to restrain either anger or frustration.

House just raised an eyebrow. “Because you got hit by a car. Of course, if what you’re actually asking is ‘why are you in the hospital as opposed to the morgue’, the answer’s a little more complicated.”

“We could always try ‘why am I chained to the bed?’” Angel said, nodding toward the restraints around his wrists, ankles, and waist.

“Because I’m kinky like that,” House answered sarcastically.

“Yes, please, by all means continue butting heads. I feel as if we’re finally getting somewhere with all of this,” Wilson muttered with a roll of his eyes as the ducklings filed in.

“Oh my god,” Cameron gasped before she could stop herself.

“Well, he does call himself ‘Angel’,” House said.

Cameron blushed. “Sorry, I just- umm…”

“She’s trying to tell you that she didn’t believe you were really awake without being insensitive,” House told Angel. “She’s funny that way.”

“You weren’t expecting me to wake up?” Angel asked cautiously. He didn’t sound surprised; more like he was attempting to get information without giving any.

“Between the severe hypothermia and the complete lack of any pulmonary or respiratory activity, most of the staff had you pegged as a bit of a long shot,” House explained.

Angel narrowed his eyes. “Has anyone ever told you what a wonderful bedside manner you have?”

“Most people find me charming,” House huffed, feigning hurt.

“Most people find your personality ‘grating and repulsive’,” Wilson told him. “And before you ask, yes, that is a direct quote.”

House just clucked his tongue and shook his head. “Unappreciated in my own time,” he said mournfully. “So, care to tell us why your body temperature was somewhere south of 68º?”

Angel suddenly looked very uncomfortable. “I- ah, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Alright. How about the anomalies in your blood work?” House asked, as if completely unconcerned with Angel’s evasion of the previous question.

“Blood work?” Angel repeated weakly.

“The results are interesting reading, that’s for sure. Something about multiple blood types, not to mention the part where the vast majority of the stuff in your veins isn’t human.”

Angel opened his mouth, but apparently thought the better of it and snapped it shut again.

“I thought as much,” House muttered.

“House, I’m not sure interrogating the patient like this is really going to get us anywhere,” Chase protested, sounding surprisingly confident in the face of such a bizarre situation. “I mean, your assuming he even knows what’s wrong-“

“Well, it’s not like he doesn’t have some idea,” House shot back. “He’s practically a walking, talking corpse full of pig’s blood.”

“House!” Cameron gasped, her look of horror mimicked to lesser degrees on her colleagues’ faces.

“What, like me being an insensitive prick is a surprise?” he asked sarcastically.

Cameron looked taken aback. “Well, no, but-“

House cut Chase off. “I know, I know, you’re not supposed to speak ill of the dead, how thoughtless of me.” He turned to Angel. “Do you mind if I try something?”

Angel stared at him a minute before answering. “Go ahead.”

House limped over to the HLM, eyes on the wary patient the entire time. “You know what this is?” he asked, patting the machine in question.

“Some kind of life support, I assume,” Angel answered.

“Heart-Lung machine,” House confirmed. “Oxygenates your blood and pumps it through your system, since your pulmonary system seems to be sleeping on the job.”

Angel nodded in understanding. Seeing this, House moved his hand from the machine to its plug. Angel watched but made no move to protest. The two men exchanged a series of significant glances while they played what Wilson would always think of as the most terrifying game of ‘chicken’ he’d ever witnessed.

Apparently, the two men came to a conclusion. House pulled the plug.

“Are you insane?” Cameron exploded as she, Foreman, and Chase leapt across the room only to be stopped by House’s cane.

“Chill out. The guy said it was okay,” House said without even looking at his panicking staff. Wilson watched from across the room, hoping to hell his trust in House wasn’t misplaced and wondering if the Ducklings noticed just what it was House’s eyes were currently glued to.

“You’re killing him!” Chase cried as Angel began to gasp and convulse.

Foreman watched the unfolding scene in horror. “You’re fucking insane.”

Cameron tried again to push her way past House, unsuccessfully. Meanwhile Angel’s movements came to a crescendo before stopping entirely, leaving the constant tone indicating flatline from the electrocardiogram as the only sound in the small room.

“You killed him,” Cameron whispered, face white with shock.

House rolled his eyes. “I did not.”

“The man’s dead, House,” Chase disagreed, waving toward Angel’s body.

“He’s faking,” House proclaimed loudly.

“How’d you know?” Angel asked suspiciously, cracking an eye to glare at House.

“EEG,” House explained over the cries of surprise from his staff, waving his cane at the machine. “Never even blinked.”

Angel groaned.

“That machine also happens to be why you aren’t in the morgue right now,” House continued. “Pesky little piece of equipment, isn’t it?”

“I don’t understand,” Cameron said weakly.

“Neither do I, but I’m betting he does,” House said, nodding toward Angel. “Not that I think he’s going to tell us anything, seeing as he doesn’t trust us, but he knows.”

“Doesn’t trust you? You’ve got me chained to the bed!” Angel cried indignantly. “You unplugged my life support!”

“Yeah, and you said it was okay!” House reminded him.

Angel sighed and leaned back against his bed. “What are the chances of me getting out of here any time soon?”

House wasn’t the only one to raise an eyebrow at this question. “You’re hardly in any condition to be getting out of bed, let alone leaving the hospital!” Chase said. “You’re still severely hypothermic, not to mention the fact that for whatever reason you’re asystolic.”

“So I’ll leave against medical advice, or whatever,” Angel stated. “You can’t keep me here against my will.”

“It’s not that easy, I’m afraid,” House said smugly. “For one thing, we still don’t know what’s wrong with you, nor do we know if it can and how it might be transmitted to others. Nope, I’m afraid that you are a public health risk, and therefore I would be seriously remiss in my duties if I were to allow you to leave this hospital. And that’s not to mention the fact that I’m not convinced you wouldn’t attack us if we removed your restraints.”

“Attack you?” Angel cried. “Have I given you any indication that I’m dangerous?”

House’s face grew serious as he leveled his gaze on the man. “I’ve had an experience with a patient before who, superficially, at least, appeared to have many of the same symptoms as you. When he regained consciousness, he reacted violently and killed a man. Until you awoke and regaled us all with this stunning display of rationality, I had no way of knowing that you wouldn’t behave in the same manner.”

Angel couldn’t find fault in his logic. “And now that I’m awake?”

House smirked. “Now that you’re awake you’ve expressed a desire to leave and suggested that you’re willing to do so against medical advice. Since you’re a public health risk and all, you’ve left me no choice.”

Wilson bit back the urge to point out that House didn’t seem to have any intention of actually contacting the CDC. He’d bring it up later, when they weren’t right in front of the patient.

Angel sighed, apparently conceding momentary defeat. “I need to make a phone call,” he stated.

“House,” Foreman warned, but House just waved his hand.

“Don’t worry, I’ll let him make a call,” he assured his staff. “It’s not like he’s a prisoner or anything.” He waited a few moments, staring at his staff expectantly. They stared back, clueless. “Well? How about some privacy, people?”

Cameron was the only one who had the decency to blush, but everyone except for House filed out of the room.

“So why are you still here?” Angel asked.

House grinned. “Somebody’s got to hold the phone for you.”

“You’re a real nosy bastard, aren’t you?” Angel grumbled.

“So I’ve been told. So- who are we calling?”