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Title: Legacies and Lollipops


Magdala - December 8, 2005 08:03 AM (GMT)
Since originally posting the first two parts of LEGACIES AND LOLLIPOPS both parts have been replaced with new and improved drafts. I thank Taruia for so kindly offering to edit my messy and often slapdash work. You will see as I did, how much a good editor gives to a writer's work without imposing their own words or attitudes on the text. Taruia is a fine writer as you will see if you read her monster fanfic ISANDER at http://malaquent.tripod.com/isander/ and she is also the person who provides us with those invaluable transcripts of HOUSE MD at http://malaquent.tripod.com/house/index.html

LEGACIES AND LOLLIPOPS - Part One
Written by Magdala
Editor/beta: Taruia

Sequel to "Breakfast with the Orang Utan"

PART ONE
I was about to log off the computer and head home to Mark when I noticed I had mail. I clicked on and saw a message from Greg. Like all his emails it was cryptic and not something I could ignore. “Stacy. We have a problem please come to my office before you leave for the day.”

I hit reply. “On my way can’t be long though. Guests for dinner.” I hit send and then logged off. I picked up my coat and briefcase and left my office; as I was halfway down the corridor I heard the phone ringing. I paused and it stopped so I continued to the lift.

“Hang on ... hold it!” A voice called as the elevator doors slipped shut. I held the door with one hand and pressed the open door button with the other. “Thanks” said Cuddy as she entered the lift, holding the door for Wilson who for some reason was carrying a red lollipop. If he hadn’t looked so serious I would have laughed.

“Emergency?” I asked.

“Hope not.” said Cuddy. I stepped back as she and Wilson exited the lift first. Their pace was one of haste, and I watched them go with more then a hint of curiosity. As I stepped out of the lift after them I realized where they were going. As they rushed into Greg’s office I felt my heart miss a beat.

“Give me a number.” I heard Cuddy say.

“Nine” it was more of a yell. I had heard Greg scream in agony before, and the sound was one I was painfully familiar with.

“When did it hit you?” I could clearly hear to concern in Cuddy’s voice.

“On the hour.”

“Twenty minutes.” said Wilson and then he addressed Greg gently “Here suck on this.”

I looked through the closed glass door of Greg’s office; he was half lying across the yellow recliner chair. Wilson looked up and saw me. “Get in here Stacy we need your help”

“Hold the end of this for me ... make sure he doesn’t crack his teeth” I did as I was told holding the ludicrous lollipop in his mouth, but removing it swiftly as he threw up. Over me over Cuddy and over Wilson. “Sorry” he managed.

“It’s alright,” we each said separately.

“Get that back in his mouth” Cuddy snapped.

“But it’s a lollipop” I replied, somewhat confused.

“No, darling. It’s Oral transmucosal fentanyl a pain killer” He held onto my arm as I replaced the lollipop in his mouth and as Wilson and Cuddy straightened him out on the chair and gently lifted his legs onto the footrest he, bit down on the lollipop stick, clasped me to him and buried his face against my neck. I could feel his tears, as they darkened my silk blouse, and his body shaking against the insult it had suffered.

Both Cuddy and Wilson had heard him call me ‘darling,’ but thankfully hadn’t commented on it. He was clinging to me and I never wanted to let go of him again. He pulled his mouth away from the lollipop.

“Stacy I’m sorry I’ve been such a shit.” He whispered, pain filling his every word.

“Yes you have but it wasn’t your fault.”

A sharp intake of breath and Wilson guided the lollipop back into his mouth. “It’s for breakthrough pain, Stacy. It’s absorbed faster through the membranes in the mouth” Greg’s eyes closed and he lay with his head cradled in my arms.

Cuddy looked at Wilson. “I’m admitting him.”

Wilson nodded. Cuddy walked around Greg’s desk and dialed his phone. She held the phone to her ear as she handed the blood pressure unit on Greg’s desk to Wilson. As Cuddy arranged for a gurney and admission; Wilson took Greg’s blood pressure. “What were you doing down here?” Wilson asked me

“I told her to come down,” mumbled Greg. “We got mail?”

Cuddy pointed to a partially unwrapped parcel on Greg’s desk. “It’s addressed to both of you.”

“Greg said we had a problem.”

“Whoever addressed this thinks you are married to each other.” Cuddy answered my non-question.

“Audrey died” he opened his eyes and looked at me. “God Stacy. I’ve been so stupid” I couldn’t stop myself I turned and kissed his forehead.

Wilson was not as circumspect as Cuddy as he put the blood pressure kit back on the desk, he looked at one of the photographs. It was Greg holding the baby Orang Utan at Singapore Zoo. He held it up so that I could see it. I reached out and Wilson handed it to me.

“Pain getting any better?” he asked Greg

“About a seven”

“Good”

“What’s wrong with him?” I asked.

“I think it’s a herniated disc,” said Greg.

Cuddy and Wilson exchanged a look. They were worried.

I held the photograph so that Greg could see it. Despite the pain he smiled.

“I love you” he said and closed his eyes. I rested my lips on his forehead and did not move as I cradled him while we waited for the nurses and the gurney to arrive.

Taruia - December 8, 2005 08:27 AM (GMT)
Ohhh...House pain...me likey! There are however a few gramatical issues that could be addressed, but I am very interested in where this is going! *is a major sucker for the hurt/comfort*

Taru

boredincorpfin - December 8, 2005 09:35 AM (GMT)
I'm so happy that you are doing a sequel. I didn't really expect it though. I enjoyed it and look forward to whenever you can update. :D

Magdala - December 8, 2005 11:59 AM (GMT)
Taru... grammar is a problem when I am writing I just don't give a fig for it as I have always had editors for that. Also "" and '' are a problem because I am not used to writing fiction or prose so I get the punctuation arse about face... glad for any fix ups.

If you like House hurting you must read the last bit of Orang because that is major hurt.

Many thanks.

Boredincorpfin glad you liked it although I didn't think much of it myself haven't settled into it yet.

The big thing I wanted to do was expose those red lollipops which everyone thinks is a joke but I feel is seeded in for breakthrough pain which they can bring in later.

Taruia - December 8, 2005 02:41 PM (GMT)
If I could somehow manage to get more then 24 hours in a day I would love to go back and beta your fic, as it is, if I get more then 15 min at a time on the computer and it's not for school it's a happy miracle. I will see if I can get a chance to go over it and offer a few pointers...

Taru

Magdala - December 8, 2005 04:35 PM (GMT)
Don't knock yourself out Taru. I may update some more and it is better to look at more than less. Many thanks anyway but you have so much on your plate. Maybe I should at least do a read through before plonking it up. Hell you do the transcripts you know how slapdash screenwriters can be. LOL. We are only as grammatical as our most grammatical character.

Benj - December 8, 2005 10:24 PM (GMT)
Nice, very nice - love me some h/c and this looks really promising. Stacy being around should make for some lots of angst. Really glad you have another fic on the go so swiftly, awesome! :D

QUOTE
“Get that back in his mouth”

“But it’s a lollipop”

“No, darling. It’s Oral transmucosal fentanyl a pain killer”


That's a fabulous exchange and I look forward to more!

Much cheers!


Benj

Magdala - December 9, 2005 12:06 AM (GMT)
Since originally posting the first two parts of LEGACIES AND LOLLIPOPS both parts have been replaced with new and improved drafts. I thank Taruia for so kindly offering to edit my messy and often slapdash work. You will see as I did, how much a good editor gives to a writer's work without imposing their own words or attitudes on the text. Taruia is a fine writer as you will see if you read her monster fanfic ISANDER at http://malaquent.tripod.com/isander/ and she is also the person who provides us with those invaluable transcripts of HOUSE MD at http://malaquent.tripod.com/house/index.html

LEGACIES AND LOLLIPOPS - Part Two

Written by Magdala
Editor/beta: Taruia

Sequel to "Breakfast with the Orang Utan"

PART TWO

Both Cuddy and Wilson let Greg call the shots. He was immediately taken for an MRI, and while that was happening I called Mark. I lied with ease; unembarrassed by the fact that I was with Lisa who could hear every word.

“First I have to find a judge who is willing to issue a writ of Habeas Corpus, then I will need to organize supporting counsel, Mark it’s a biggee I haven’t got a chance of leaving Princeton tonight. Look you’ll just have to take them out to dinner. Better still call Alfredo, the number’s by the phone in the kitchen. Tell him how many people. Just say Stacy’s regular menu ... Saltimbocca ... what else. Yeah he can do the wines too. Just tell him to put it on my account.”

I rolled my eyes at Lisa because Mark was arguing the point. “Okay, okay, no need to do the emasculated man act Mark. I’ll call Alfredo. Then I will call you back and tell you everything is organized. Then I will get back to my job.” I listened. “Oh good, I knew you had it in you. Just tell them I’m sorry. You have always been better at the social stuff. No don’t call me later I could be before the Judge ... I’ll call you tomorrow. Have a good night. Oh order an extra Saltimbocca I’ll have it tomorrow. Bye. You know I do.” I hung up.

“Just as well he’s at our house tonight a full two hours away. And has a heap of his friends coming round,” I said.

“You lie well,” said Cuddy.

“No I don’t. I couldn’t tell him I loved him. He’ll remember that.”

“You wouldn’t lie to House? Would you?”

“No. Never.”

“Good because whatever you say or do right now you’d better stand by,” she said. “House might seem strong but I don’t know how much more he can take.”

“Do you think this is more serious than a disc?”

“I don’t know. I hope it isn’t. God. I hope it isn’t.”

“And this time we have to do exactly what he wants.” I said.

“Yes we both do. I’ve felt bad you know.”

“What for?” I knew but I wanted and needed to hear it from her.

“You didn’t have medical training and you trusted my advice. I let you carry the can.”

“How many lives do you think Greg has saved since he came back to work?”

“Uuhm. Given that many of them are moribund by the time they are handed over to his team. Maybe two hundred, two fifty. In that region.”

“And they would certainly have died without him?”

“Yes certainly.”

“Well that’s not to bad a thing to carry the can for. Is it?” I smiled at Lisa Cuddy I had forgiven her years before but obviously she had not forgiven herself.

“I am so sorry, Stacy.”

“No need. You’ve been here for him. That’s what mattered.”

Foreman entered ignoring me and looking to Cuddy for answers.

“Do you know what’s wrong?” He asked, and I could see that he was deeply concerned.

“Not yet House has a theory or two. It looks like you will have to stay in the job for a while.”

“And that’s supposed to make me happy?” I had never seen Foreman so upset.

“Where is he now?”

“Having an MRI; Chase and Wilson are there,” Cuddy answered.

“Pain?”

“It’s bad.”

“I think he has been have episodes of Breakthrough Pain for more than a week.” he said.

“That was Wilson’s assessment”

“Mrs. Warner.” He finally acknowledged my existence. “Should she be here?” he asked as he turned back to Cuddy.

“Yes she should be here and more importantly House needs her here.” Foreman nodded slowly indicating that he did not completely agree with the idea.

“I called Cameron. She will be in soon,” he said.

“I’ll brief her when she arrives.” Cuddy replied.

“Mrs. Warner. Dr. Cuddy,” Foreman nodded to us and headed off towards Nuclear Medicine.

Cuddy’s pager vibrated, and she looked at the message. “They’ve taken him to the ward. He wants you there.”

“Are you coming?”

“No I think I’d better wait for Florence Nightingale.”

I nodded and as I moved towards the lift Dr. Cameron arrived. Any hope she might have had of being the one to comfort House in his hour of need faded as she looked at me. I saw her look down towards my hand and realized that I was still holding the photograph of the little Orang gazing lovingly into Greg’s eyes as one tiny finger rested gently on his lower lip.

As the doors of the lift closed I felt a moment of sorrow for the girl who had imagined House as central to her future. I put the photograph into my purse. Right now I could not think of the past or the future. I had to be right in the moment, living moment by moment as Greg again did battle with his failing body.

Greg was in a private room, and as I arrived a nurse was closing the blinds. She was about to bar my way when Wilson beckoned me in. Chase and Foreman nodded as I entered. Greg was lying prone on the bed, naked but for a light towel placed over his buttocks. His body was rigid and the tendons in his outstretched arms stood out. His hands, which had coaxed so many beautiful melodies from the piano, now gripped the mattress at the head of the bed. Wilson addressed Greg, letting him know what was happening.

“Stacy’s here.” the patient moaned in response. Wilson went on, “We are going to move the bed out from the wall and put a chair there for Stacy so you can see her.” Greg gave a slight nod of his head. Wilson and Foreman moved the bed and Chase placed the chair for me and I sat down. My hands went around his wrists and when he felt them he let go of the mattress and turning his hands placed them around my wrists. He raised his head those mesmerizing blue eyes fixed on me. I looked at the hold we had on each other.

“Remember when we went to the circus. The trapeze act?”

“Yes. You are holding me in a catcher’s grip. I feel safe like that flyer.” His eyes held mine.

“Stacy we have to manipulate his legs to see the what is involved,” Wilson said and I nodded not breaking eye contact with Greg.

“I won’t let you go, darling,” I promised. As Wilson and Foreman lifted his left leg his grip became like a vice and his eyes filled with tears “Aaagh,” the grunt of pain made me catch my breath more then the pressure that suddenly crushed my wrists.

“L4-5 and L5-S1 below the knee Greg?”

“Yes. Sorry Stacy”

“It’s okay you didn’t hurt me. Jim that was his left leg,” I looked at him with worry.

“I know. The good one. It’s pressure on the sciatic nerve causing pain to radiate down the leg” Wilson explained then he addressed Greg.

“Are you ready to go again?” This time it was even worse. The physical exam of both legs took over half an hour because towards the end he needed more and more time to recover from each manipulation. I only let go of him when he could no longer register that I was there and they were readying to give him pain relief, put him in a gown, and roll him onto his back.

Wilson looked at my wrists. Greg's hands were still imprinted on my skin and my watch fell off in Wilson’s hand. The band was broken. “We’ll get you some ice for those” Wilson said, giving me a small sad smile.

I shook my head.

“Not right now. I don’t want him to know he hurt me.” Wilson understood immediately. When House hurt him he seldom let it show.

Slowly the morphine took hold and the pain subsided. “Stacy” he said softly.

“I’m right here.”

He turned his head in my direction. Exhausted, he looked exactly as he had when Cuddy had induced the coma. I pushed the memory out of my head as I pushed the chair as close as possible to the bed. I lay my arm across his chest and cupped his bristly jaw in my hand.

“Can I kiss you Greg?” I asked.

“Oh God, Stacy. Please.” The catch in his voice didn’t come from physical pain but from emotional need. Gently, lovingly, and deeply we kissed, and then his breathing steadied. I felt his tongue relax against mine as he fell into a painless sleep. As I took my mouth away from his I wasn’t aware of the others in the room.

I didn’t think of the past, I didn’t think of the future. I just stayed in the moment watching Greg’s face as he slept.








Taruia - December 9, 2005 05:40 AM (GMT)
Ok I didn't mention this before, but wow, if House in your fic does have a herniated disc in his back, my dad just had surgery for that very thing, and it's not a fun thing to deal with, I know he was really hurting, but my father is stubborn, and it was his own silly fault so...lol

One thing, if it is that, how would House manage that? He wouldn't be doing any heavy lifting as such. I don't know if you are going in a different direction with this, but well...I'm just likeing the hurt...lol. You read Isander, you know I'm a sucker for pain...lol!

Taru

Taruia - December 9, 2005 05:54 AM (GMT)
Ok, so I had some free time today, mostly because I don’t sleep like a normal person, and I went through and changed/edited a few things in chapter one. I tried to keep the voice that you have going here, and really only played with a few parts. Ah well I’ll shut up and just let you read.

***

I was about to log off the computer and head home to Mark when I noticed I had mail. I clicked on and saw a message from Greg. Like all his emails it was cryptic and not something I could ignore. “Stacy. We have a problem please come to my office before you leave for the day.”

I hit reply. “On my way can’t be long though. Guests for dinner.” I hit send and then logged off. I picked up my coat and briefcase and left my office; as I was halfway down the corridor I heard the phone ringing. I paused and it stopped so I continued to the lift.

“Hang on ... hold it!” I held the door with one hand and pressed the open door button with the other. “Thanks” said Cudd as she entered the lift, holding the door for Wilson who for some reason was carrying a red lollipop. If he hadn’t looked so serious I would have laughed.

“Emergency?” I asked.

“Hope not.” said Cuddy. I stepped back as she and Wilson exited the lift first. Their pace was one of haste, and I watched them go with more then a hint of curiosity. As I stepped out of the lift after them I realized where they were going. As they rushed into Greg’s office I felt my heart miss a beat.

“Give me a number.” I heard Cuddy say.

“Nine” it was more of a yell. I had heard Greg yell with pain before, and the sound was one I was painfully familiar with.

“When did it hit you?”

“On the hour.”

“Twenty minutes.” said Wilson and then he addressed Greg gently “Here suck on this.”

I looked through the closed glass door of Greg’s office; he was half lying across the yellow recliner chair. Wilson looked up and saw me. “Get in here Stacy we need your help”

“Hold the end of this for me ... make sure he doesn’t crack his teeth” I did as I was told holding the ludicrous lollipop in his mouth, but removing it swiftly as he threw up. Over me over Cuddy and over Wilson. “Sorry” he managed.

“It’s alright” we each said separately.

“Get that back in his mouth”

“But it’s a lollipop”

“No, darling. It’s Oral transmucosal fentanyl a pain killer” He held onto my arm as I replaced the lollipop in his mouth and as Wilson and Cuddy straightened him out on the chair and gently lifted his legs onto the footrest he, bit down on the lollipop stick, clasped me to him and buried his face against my neck. I could feel his tears, as they darkened my silk blouse, and his body shaking against the insult it had suffered.

Both Cuddy and Wilson had heard him call me ‘darling,’ but thankfully hadn’t commented on it. He was clinging to me and I never wanted to let go of him again. He pulled his mouth away from the lollipop.

“Stacy I’m sorry I’ve been such a shit.”

“Yes you have but it wasn’t your fault.”

A sharp intact of breath and Wilson guided the lollipop back into his mouth. “It’s for breakthrough pain, Stacy. It’s absorbed faster through the membranes in the mouth” Greg’s eyes closed and he lay with his head cradled in my arms.

Cuddy looked at Wilson. “I’m admitting him.”

Wilson nodded. Cuddy walked around Greg’s desk and dialed his phone. She held the phone to her ear as she handed the blood pressure unit on Greg’s desk to Wilson. As Cuddy arranged for a gurney and admission; Wilson took Greg’s blood pressure. “What were you doing down here?” Wilson asked me

“I told her to come down,” mumbled Greg. “We got mail?”

Cuddy pointed to a partially unwrapped parcel on Greg’s desk. “It’s addressed to both of you.”

“Greg said we had a problem.”

“Whoever addressed this thinks you are married to each other.”

“Audrey died” he opened his eyes and looked at me. “God Stacy. I’ve been so stupid” I couldn’t stop myself I turned and kissed his forehead.

Wilson was not as circumspect as Cuddy as he put the blood pressure kit back on the desk, he looked at one of the photographs. It was Greg holding the baby Orang Utan at Singapore Zoo. He held it up so that I could see it. I reached out and Wilson handed it to me.

“Pain getting any better?” he asked Greg

“About a seven”

“Good”

“What’s wrong with him?” I asked.

“I think it’s a herniated disc,” said Greg.

Cuddy and Wilson exchanged a look. They were worried.

I held the photograph so that Greg could see it. Despite the pain he smiled.

“I love you” he said and closed his eyes. I rested my lips on his forehead and did not move as I cradled him while we waited for the nurses and the gurney to arrive.

***

Ok, overall it’s good, but there are a few places where your screenwriting background bites you, mainly in dialogue, and descriptions, you tend to just have the characters say things, and leave out any description that could go along with it. I know that is a style, but with fic writing, it is necessary to give the reader enough to get a picture of what is going on. I also write screenplays, and I can follow where you are going most of the time, but I’m not sure everyone can do that. There are a few places where clarification on who is talking would be a big help. Great outline though, and for the most part the characters are in character, I know this is slightly AU because of the previous fic (which I have to go back and read now…lol) so you can get away with a little OOC (out of character) because there is stuff that happened that may not have happened in the show. Ok, that’s it. I’ll work through part two when I get a chance.

Taru

Magdala - December 9, 2005 10:27 AM (GMT)
Taru,

That was terrific seamless. Thank you. Problem is I really should work harder on them but I don't and what you are getting is first draft. As I said I need an editor and feel adrift without one. You are a very good editor. In regard to the herniated disc he did it very easily just by walking. You see all his weight bearing is in his left leg and right arm He semi pivots as he walks and he has had the odd fall. I have a nasty feeling that it is not my screenwriting background that is coming out to bite me but the stroke I had this year. I can't write political analysis to save myself now and it used to be the main thing I did.




Magdala - December 10, 2005 02:21 AM (GMT)
Taru,

May I have your permission to replace the first part of this story with your edit? I would of course give you full accreditation.

Also if you could point up a couple of these ... so I can fix them.
QUOTE

there are a few places where your screenwriting background bites you, mainly in dialogue, and descriptions, you tend to just have the characters say things, and leave out any description that could go along with it.


This is an enormous help to me. Sometimes the stroke, apart from altering sensation, causes me to feel like I am fighting through a fog. I am discovering fanfic is therapy and your input is invaluable. If anyone out there can think what a herniated disc could be hiding I would be grateful.

Also what is AU?

Taruia - December 10, 2005 03:52 AM (GMT)
You're more then welcome to use it! That's why I did it! lol!

AU is Alternate Universe basically it's any time you go away from the timeline of the show or change something about the character. Isander could be considered AU, and Sy's Some Days are Worse Then Others is a definite AU.

I can go back through and see about the places where it needs clairfication. Also do you have an e-mail or instant messenger that I can reach you at?

Taru

Taruia - December 10, 2005 04:02 AM (GMT)
ok went through it again, fixed a few other things, hope it's ok!

I was about to log off the computer and head home to Mark when I noticed I had mail. I clicked on and saw a message from Greg. Like all his emails it was cryptic and not something I could ignore. “Stacy. We have a problem please come to my office before you leave for the day.”

I hit reply. “On my way can’t be long though. Guests for dinner.” I hit send and then logged off. I picked up my coat and briefcase and left my office; as I was halfway down the corridor I heard the phone ringing. I paused and it stopped so I continued to the lift.

“Hang on ... hold it!” A voice called as the elevator doors slipped shut. I held the door with one hand and pressed the open door button with the other. “Thanks” said Cuddy as she entered the lift, holding the door for Wilson who for some reason was carrying a red lollipop. If he hadn’t looked so serious I would have laughed.

“Emergency?” I asked.

“Hope not.” said Cuddy. I stepped back as she and Wilson exited the lift first. Their pace was one of haste, and I watched them go with more then a hint of curiosity. As I stepped out of the lift after them I realized where they were going. As they rushed into Greg’s office I felt my heart miss a beat.

“Give me a number.” I heard Cuddy say.

“Nine” it was more of a yell. I had heard Greg yell with pain before, and the sound was one I was painfully familiar with.

“When did it hit you?” I could clearly hear to concern in Cuddy’s voice.

“On the hour.”

“Twenty minutes.” said Wilson and then he addressed Greg gently “Here suck on this.”

I looked through the closed glass door of Greg’s office; he was half lying across the yellow recliner chair. Wilson looked up and saw me. “Get in here Stacy we need your help”

“Hold the end of this for me ... make sure he doesn’t crack his teeth” I did as I was told holding the ludicrous lollipop in his mouth, but removing it swiftly as he threw up. Over me over Cuddy and over Wilson. “Sorry” he managed.

“It’s alright,” we each said separately.

“Get that back in his mouth” Cuddy snapped.

“But it’s a lollipop” I replied, somewhat confused.

“No, darling. It’s Oral transmucosal fentanyl a pain killer” He held onto my arm as I replaced the lollipop in his mouth and as Wilson and Cuddy straightened him out on the chair and gently lifted his legs onto the footrest he, bit down on the lollipop stick, clasped me to him and buried his face against my neck. I could feel his tears, as they darkened my silk blouse, and his body shaking against the insult it had suffered.

Both Cuddy and Wilson had heard him call me ‘darling,’ but thankfully hadn’t commented on it. He was clinging to me and I never wanted to let go of him again. He pulled his mouth away from the lollipop.

“Stacy I’m sorry I’ve been such a shit.” He whispered, pain filling his every word.

“Yes you have but it wasn’t your fault.”

A sharp intact of breath and Wilson guided the lollipop back into his mouth. “It’s for breakthrough pain, Stacy. It’s absorbed faster through the membranes in the mouth” Greg’s eyes closed and he lay with his head cradled in my arms.

Cuddy looked at Wilson. “I’m admitting him.”

Wilson nodded. Cuddy walked around Greg’s desk and dialed his phone. She held the phone to her ear as she handed the blood pressure unit on Greg’s desk to Wilson. As Cuddy arranged for a gurney and admission; Wilson took Greg’s blood pressure. “What were you doing down here?” Wilson asked me

“I told her to come down,” mumbled Greg. “We got mail?”

Cuddy pointed to a partially unwrapped parcel on Greg’s desk. “It’s addressed to both of you.”

“Greg said we had a problem.”

“Whoever addressed this thinks you are married to each other.” Cuddy answered my non-question.

“Audrey died” he opened his eyes and looked at me. “God Stacy. I’ve been so stupid” I couldn’t stop myself I turned and kissed his forehead.

Wilson was not as circumspect as Cuddy as he put the blood pressure kit back on the desk, he looked at one of the photographs. It was Greg holding the baby Orang Utan at Singapore Zoo. He held it up so that I could see it. I reached out and Wilson handed it to me.

“Pain getting any better?” he asked Greg

“About a seven”

“Good”

“What’s wrong with him?” I asked.

“I think it’s a herniated disc,” said Greg.

Cuddy and Wilson exchanged a look. They were worried.

I held the photograph so that Greg could see it. Despite the pain he smiled.

“I love you” he said and closed his eyes. I rested my lips on his forehead and did not move as I cradled him while we waited for the nurses and the gurney to arrive.


Taru

Taruia - December 10, 2005 04:22 AM (GMT)
Edit of chapter 2:

Both Cuddy and Wilson let Greg call the shots. He was immediately taken for an MRI, and while that was happening I called Mark. I lied with ease; unembarrassed by the fact that I was with Lisa who could hear every word.

“First I have to find a judge who is willing to issue a writ of Habeas Corpus, then I will need to organize supporting counsel, Mark it’s a biggee I haven’t got a chance of leaving Princeton tonight. Look you’ll just have to take them out to dinner. Better still call Alfredo, the number’s by the phone in the kitchen. Tell him how many people. Just say Stacy’s regular menu ... Saltimbocca ... what else. Yeah he can do the wines too. Just tell him to put it on my account.”

I rolled my eyes at Lisa because Mark was arguing the point. “Okay, okay, no need to do the emasculated man act Mark. I’ll call Alfredo. Then I will call you back and tell you everything is organized. Then I will get back to my job.” I listened. “Oh good, I knew you had it in you. Just tell them I’m sorry. You have always been better at the social stuff. No don’t call me later I could be before the Judge ... I’ll call you tomorrow. Have a good night. Oh order an extra Saltimbocca I’ll have it tomorrow. Bye. You know I do.” I hung up.

“Just as well he’s at our house tonight a full two hours away. And has a heap of his friends coming round,” I said.

“You lie well,” said Cuddy.

“No I don’t. I couldn’t tell him I loved him. He’ll remember that.”

“You wouldn’t lie to House? Would you?”

“No. Never.”

“Good because whatever you say or do right now you’d better stand by,” she said. “House might seem strong but I don’t know how much more he can take.”

“Do you think this is more serious than a disc?”

“I don’t know. I hope it isn’t. God. I hope it isn’t.”

“And this time we have to do exactly what he wants.” I said.

“Yes we both do. I’ve felt bad you know.”

“What for?” I knew but I wanted and needed to hear it from her.

“You didn’t have medical training and you trusted my advice. I let you carry the can.”

“How many lives do you think Greg has saved since he came back to work?”

“Uuhm. Given that many of them are moribund by the time they are handed over to his team. Maybe two hundred, two fifty. In that region.”

“And they would certainly have died without him?”

“Yes certainly.”

“Well that’s not to bad a thing to carry the can for. Is it?” I smiled at Lisa Cuddy I had forgiven her years before but obviously she had not forgiven herself.

“I am so sorry, Stacy.”

“No need. You’ve been here for him. That’s what mattered.”

Foreman entered ignoring me and looking to Cuddy for answers.

“Do you know what’s wrong?” He asked, and I could see that he was deeply concerned.

“Not yet House has a theory or two. It looks like you will have to stay in the job for a while.”

“And that’s supposed to make me happy?” I had never seen Foreman so upset.

“Where is he now?”

“Having an MRI; Chase and Wilson are there,” Cuddy answered.

“Pain?”

“It’s bad.”

“I think he has been have episodes of Breakthrough Pain for more than a week.” he said.

“That was Wilson’s assessment”

“Mrs. Warner.” He finally acknowledged my existence. “Should she be here?” he asked as he turned back to Cuddy.

“Yes she should be here and more importantly House needs her here.” Foreman nodded slowly indicating that he did not completely agree with the idea.

“I called Cameron. She will be in soon,” he said.

“I’ll brief her when she arrives.” Cuddy replied.

“Mrs. Warner. Dr. Cuddy,” Foreman nodded to us and headed off towards Nuclear Medicine.

Cuddy’s pager vibrated, and she looked at the message. “They’ve taken him to the ward. He wants you there.”

“Are you coming?”

“No I think I’d better wait for Florence Nightingale.”

I nodded and as I moved towards the lift Dr. Cameron arrived. Any hope she might have had of being the one to comfort House in his hour of need faded as she looked at me. I saw her look down towards my hand and realized that I was still holding the photograph of the little Orang gazing lovingly into Greg’s eyes as one tiny finger rested gently on his lower lip.

As the doors of the lift closed I felt a moment of sorrow for the girl who had imagined House as central to her future. I put the photograph into my purse. Right now I could not think of the past or the future. I had to be right in the moment, living moment by moment as Greg again did battle with his failing body.

Greg was in a private room, and as I arrived a nurse was closing the blinds. She was about to bar my way when Wilson beckoned me in. Chase and Foreman nodded as I entered. Greg was lying prone on the bed, naked but for a light towel placed over his buttocks. His body was rigid and the tendons in his outstretched arms stood out. His hands, which had coaxed so many beautiful melodies from the piano, now gripped the mattress at the head of the bed. Wilson addressed Greg, letting him know what was happening.

“Stacy’s here.” the patient moaned in response. Wilson went on, “We are going to move the bed out from the wall and put a chair there for Stacy so you can see her.” Greg gave a slight nod of his head. Wilson and Foreman moved the bed and Chase placed the chair for me and I sat down. My hands went around his wrist and when he felt them he let go of the mattress and turning his hands placed them around my wrists. He raised his head those mesmerizing blue eyes fixed on me. I looked at the hold we had on each other.

“Remember when we went to the circus. The trapeze act?”

“Yes. You are holding me in a catcher’s grip. I feel safe like that flyer.” His eyes held mine.

“Stacy we have to manipulate his legs to see the what is involved,” Wilson said and I nodded not breaking eye contact with Greg.

“I won’t let you go, darling,” I promised. As Wilson and Foreman lifted his left leg his grip became like a vice and his eyes filled with tears “Aaagh,” the grunt of pain made me catch my breath more then the pressure that suddenly crushed my wrists.

“L4-5 and L5-S1 below the knee Greg?”

“Yes. Sorry Stacy”

“It’s okay you didn’t hurt me. Jim that was his left leg,” I looked at him with worry.

“I know. The good one. It’s pressure on the sciatic nerve causing pain to radiate down the leg” Wilson explained then he addressed Greg.

“Are you ready to go again?” This time it was even worse. The physical exam of both legs took over half an hour because towards the end he needed more and more time to recover from each manipulation. I only let go of him when he could no longer register that I was there and they were readying to give him pain relief, put him in a gown, and roll him onto his back.

Wilson looked at my wrists. Greg's hands were still imprinted on my skin and my watch fell off in Wilson’s hand. The band was broken. “We’ll get you some ice for those” Wilson said, giving me a small sad smile.

I shook my head.

“Not right now. I don’t want him to know he hurt me.” Wilson understood immediately. When House hurt him he seldom let it show.

Slowly the morphine took hold and the pain subsided. “Stacy” he said softly.

“I’m right here.”

He turned his head in my direction. Exhausted, he looked exactly as he had when Cuddy had induced the coma. I pushed the memory out of my head as I pushed the chair as close as possible to the bed. I lay my arm across his chest and cupped his bristly jaw in my hand.

“Can I kiss you Greg?” I asked.

“Oh God, Stacy. Please.” The catch in his voice didn’t come from physical pain but from emotional need. Gently, lovingly, and deeply we kissed, and then his breathing steadied. I felt his tongue relax against mine as he fell into a painless sleep. As I took my mouth away from his I wasn’t aware of the others in the room.

I didn’t think of the past, I didn’t think of the future. I just stayed in the moment watching Greg’s face as he slept.

Taru

boredincorpfin - December 10, 2005 07:23 AM (GMT)
I'm already a sucker for this fic. I love your Stacy. I really wish I had something more to add but I didn't even do English in my final year at school sticking instead with numbers and science so I don't know what I can offer. But i look forward to whenever you update. :)

Magdala - December 11, 2005 04:10 AM (GMT)
Since originally posting the first two parts of LEGACIES AND LOLLIPOPS both parts have been replaced with new and improved drafts. I thank Taruia for so kindly offering to edit my messy and often slapdash work. You will see as I did, how much a good editor gives to a writer's work without imposing their own words or attitudes on the text. Taruia is a fine writer as you will see if you read her monster fanfic ISANDER at http://malaquent.tripod.com/isander/ and she is also the person who provides us with those invaluable transcripts of HOUSE MD at http://malaquent.tripod.com/house/index.html

Good literary editing is something the reader does not necessarily see, like the best soundtrack, it's subtlety often ensures it goes unnoticed.

Thank you Taruia.

mt83 - December 11, 2005 04:45 PM (GMT)
I, too love your Stacy. She carries with her the same type of pain House does, but the show never lets us see this pain. Great work!

Magdala - December 12, 2005 03:45 AM (GMT)

LEGACIES AND LOLLIPOPS - Part Three
Written by Magdala
Editor/Beta Taruia

Sequel to “Breakfast with an Orang Utan”



I felt gentle hands placed on my shoulders and reluctantly I turned from watching Greg sleep to look into Wilson’s concerned face.

“He should sleep for a couple of hours, Stacy. Is there anything you need to do?”

Like face my life? Like call my husband? Like drive two hours to finish dinner with the group of schoolteachers who Mark counted as his friends? Sure I needed to do all of that, but what I needed more than anything was to be with Greg. Greg was what I needed. He had always been what I needed, from the moment I met him, and now probably for the first time I knew he needed me.

“No there’s nothing I need to do,” I said too sharply.

“Stacy. I’m not judging you,” he said.

“Sorry, Jim. Really, I am sorry.”

He guided me away from the bed and out of the room so we could talk without the fear of disturbing Greg or being overheard.

“Is this my fault Jim?”

“No Stacy it just happened,” I could tell that he was concerned not just for Greg, but for me as well.

“You think it’s more than a disc though?”

“At least we know it’s not another aneurysm, but there are a few things we have to rule out.”

“Like cancer?” I asked.

“Not necessarily. The reason I am treating him is that in oncology we are experienced in dealing with breakthrough pain. It has to be dealt with quickly. It can’t be under treated, because then it develops into chronic pain and he has enough of that already.”

“So he won’t suffer like he did last time?”

“I hope not. Stacy are you going to be able to stay around?”

I nodded.

“Marital lies aren’t all that easy. I should know.” Wilson said with a humorless smile. “He needs you, Stacy. He won’t push you away again.”

“You don’t know that,” and nor did I.

“I guess I don’t, but I want you here,” said Wilson.

“I thought you would want me anywhere but here.” I had always assumed that Wilson was jealous of my relationship with Greg, and I thought deep down, that he blamed me for the decision that had compromised Greg’s life and happiness.

“All I want is for House to recover, and for that to happen, he will need to want to. I don’t think he will want to unless you are here, Stacy.”

“I still love him.” I said, and as my tears started to fall he took me in his arms.

“I know. I know.”

Jim Wilson’s friendship with Greg was utterly selfless; it always had been, but this was the first time I really understood.

“He is very worried about that letter he received from that law firm,” he said finally.

“What letter from a law firm?” I had heard nothing about this.

“The one on his desk, the one addressed to the two of you. The one with the photographs. Could you take a look at it?”

“Yes. Can it be brought up here?” I didn’t want to get too far away from Greg at this point.

“Better not just in case it is a real concern. You have a full hour until he wakes.

“Singapore was much more than breakfast with a monkey, wasn’t it?” He continued after a moment’s pause.

“It was our honeymoon, Jim.”

“You weren’t...?” Jim looked at me intently.

“No we were going to get married when we got back home. But then the infarction happened and I used the proxy. He told me to forget all about Singapore ... and I did. I totally forgot it...” That was exactly what had happened.

“Until you smelt his after shave five years later,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

I nodded.

“You realize what you are describing? Erasing such an important memory is a symptom of Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome.” Again I could hear the concern that laced his words.

“No I didn’t.”

“I didn’t realize just how much you’d been hurt. I’m sorry Stacy. Are you sure you are going to be up to this?”

“Quite sure. Absolutely sure. Don’t push me away.”

“I won’t push you away. You have my word. I just wish I could speak for House.” We both knew the man far too well to think that this would be easy.

“It’s his choice. I will never interfere with his choice again.” I squeezed Wilson”s hand. “I’ll go and check that letter.”

“I’ll call you if he wakes.”

I leant against the back wall of the lift and closed my eyes the way that Greg did. Post Traumatic Stress, that explained a lot, I had handled a couple of pro-bono cases for veterans of Afghanistan and Iraq. We had an automatic affinity but I hadn’t realized why. When the door of the lift opened I stopped thinking about myself.

Dr. Allison Cameron was in Greg’s office. She was using his computer, and when I entered, she immediately looked up with a guilty half-smile.

“I’m just answering some of his letters. I haven’t touched that one that is addressed to you as well. I promise.”

“It’s okay. I am just going to look at it now” I said.

“How is he?” she asked.

“He’s asleep right now Dr. Wilson is with him.” I pulled the package towards me seeing the English stamps with the Queen’s head on them. I looked for a while at the first line of the address. ‘To Dr. Gregory House and Mrs.Stacey House c/o’ I thought I would open the covering letter from Lethbridge and Hawkes Solicitors first. I knew the address well; it was in the City of
London just near the Inns of Court.

“You don’t often see this,” I said to Cameron turning the envelope round so she could see the red blob at the point of closure.

“What is it?” she asked.

“Sealing wax. This is a very traditional firm. Does Greg have a letter knife?”

“I doubt it. He hates opening mail.”

“This’ll do,” I said spotting a nail file lying on the desk. Greg must have had the same thought about preserving the seal before the pain hit him. Then I noticed he had opened the envelope. I removed the letter, which though computer generated was on thick decal-edged paper. Greg had obviously read some if not all of it. It advised us of the death of their client Audrey
Tillson and explained how Mrs. Tillson had lived in a free-hold property owned by Mrs. Phillipa Fox-Robinson, which now on her death was bequeathed to Dr. Gregory House and Mrs. Stacy House in accordance with the wishes of late Mrs. Fox-Robinson.

Together with the letter was a copy of the title deed to the property and a photocopy of a letter legally written accepted as a codicil to her will, signed by Phillipa, and witnessed by the manager and a member of staff of the Mandarin hotel in Singapore. That and the letter she wrote to me must have been the last two things that Phillipa did in Singapore before she died. I realized I had left my brief case in Greg's office, so I placed the letter and the deeds in it.

Then I spread out the photographs on Greg's desk and looked at them. Most of them were of Greg and myself, or Greg and Phillipa, or the four of us and of course the baby Orang Utan. Then there were several photographs of a charming house set in a romantic garden. It had two stories and immediately I knew Greg would never live there I put those photographs with the deeds in the briefcase.

I noticed Cameron looking over trying not to appear to be snooping. Her interest was in Greg dancing with me.

“I lied to you about Greg. When you asked me what he was like before the infarction. I said he was about the same that wasn’t true. He was totally different. Totally.”

“I thought so.” She said with relief.

“He’s been cruel to you hasn’t he?”

“It’s not his fault,” said Cameron leaping to Greg’s defense.

“It doesn’t make it alright though.”

“Do you want to look at these photographs?” I asked her.

“Is it alright?”

“I don’t see why not,” I said. It was better for her to see them, than to wonder about them and possibly ask Greg about them later.

Foreman entered with the news that Greg was awake and wanted to see everyone.

“I was told not to go up there by Dr. Cuddy,” Cameron said, clearly wanting to go, but trying not to be completely obvious.

“Well House said the whole team and the white board. Oh and you too, Mrs Warner.”

Cameron took charge of the white board knowing that if she had hold of it, her entry to Greg's room was guaranteed.

I smiled at Foreman’s retreating back as I picked up the photographs. Clearly in Foreman’s eyes I fell way below the white board in importance.

I picked up my brief case and followed them out, closing the door behind me.

I turned for the lift as the doors slid shut. Foreman and Cameron were not waiting for me.

But when I reached the floor and headed down the corridor towards Greg's room, they were waiting outside with the white board. It was Foreman who spoke first.

“Doctor Wilson said you were to go right in.”

I had expected to find Greg sedated and relatively pain free, but that was not how it was. He was obviously in intense pain; and his hands were clenching and unclenching on the sheets. He was pleased to see me, but as he spoke my name it sounded more like a stifled cry. He reached for my hand with his cannular free hand. I was beside him in an instant, his hand in mine.

“Greg I cannot believe you are rejecting drugs,” said Wilson.

“I know, I know. You have to treat the patient appropriately and deal acute pain before it facilitates the remodeling of the nervous system,” he was gasping; the words coming in spurts rather then full sentences.

“Greg please,” begged Wilson.

Wilson only called him Greg when he was desperately worried.

“Just enough to take off the edge. Not so much that I can’t think. We have to find the underlying cause ... all of it.”

“That’s what the white board is for?” I asked, gently stroking over his knuckles and down his long slender fingers.

“Yeah and Dr. Mandingo, the wombat, and the little girl. I need their input.”

“Go easy on Dr Cameron. Don’t be sexist, Greg”

“So I should just stick to racist should I?”

“You’re rehearsing”

“Yeah,” but the pain was getting to him. “God it hurts,” he gasped.

Wilson drew up the drug.

“Show me,” Greg commanded, and Wilson showed him the amount in the syringe. Greg nodded and Wilson injected the drug via the cannula.

“Won’t I be in the way?” I asked.

“No,” said Greg his eyes closing for a moment. “I need you.”

The only other time I had heard him use those three words together was when he said, “I need you to talk to the doctor.” That was when he wanted me to ask them to put him into a drug-induced coma. I had failed him then by exceeding his instructions. Now I was going to do whatever he wanted me to do, even if it killed him, because this time I knew it had to be his choice.

I kissed his hand, that beautiful hand, which had once caressed every part of me.

I heard Greg talking to Wilson his voice still catching, as the drug had not kicked in. “Give us a minute, then let them in.”

I felt Wilson’s hand squeeze my shoulder comfortingly as he replied to Greg. “Will do.”

Greg turned his face towards me. Those blue eyes held me.

"Did you look at that letter?"

"Uh huh and it's nothing to worry about." I tried to sound as reassuring as possible.

"Are you sure?"

"Trust me I'm a lawyer. Seriously, it’s completely straightforward."

"I haven't changed my will since you left, Stacy"

I winced. I couldn't stand hearing him talking about his will. I did not want to be told I was still heir to everything; including the piano and no doubt Steve the rat.

"Stop worrying about who will look after Steve. For the sake of that little rat just concentrate on what is happening to you, darling. That's all that matters. What is it you and the team have to do?" I tried to hide the fear that was slowly creeping up on me.


“Find the underlying cause; all of it, everything. It's going to be tough,
darling. Really tough.”

I nodded. “I’ll try not to cry, promise.”

“Please, because that might make me cry too. And I don’t want to look like an idiot in front of my staff.”

Wilson looked down at his friend.

“If you’re making jokes does that mean you’re ready to face the troops?”

Greg nodded, even though he was far from being pain free.







Magdala - December 12, 2005 02:45 PM (GMT)
LEGACIES AND LOLLIPOPS - Part Four
Sequel to "Breakfast with the Orang Utan"

Written by Magdala
Editor/beta: Taruia

Note of thanks: I thank Taruia for returning to health and doing such a beautiful edit. She corrected my appalling punctuation, spelling and Britishisms and without puttinG in a word of her own nudged me into clarification, improving the pace, structure and drama I also thank MacNMolly for providing information on the herniated disc.


PART FOUR
n.b.The letter contained in this chapter appeared originally in "Breakfast with the Orang Utan".


The white board was empty and the diagnostic team under Foreman was quiet and subdued. Foreman wrote Herniated Disc on the white board.

“Differential diagnosis people?” Foreman said; immediately embarrassed at using a key line, which clearly belonged to House. He looked down at his shoes, causing Wilson to suppress a laugh.

“We already know that’s what it is. House diagnosed it and the MRI confirmed it,” said Chase.

“Do you think it’s something else?” asked Cameron.

Greg let out a grunt I could tell by his increased pressure on my hand that it was a grunt of pain. Suddenly they were all looking at him.

“Don’t look at me for answers. ‘Me’ - patient. ‘You’ - diagnostic team.”

They were uncomfortable, and I could feel Greg gathering his strength to galvanize them.

“With the exception of Dr Cameron. All of you in this room have seen my dick. Some of you have even had to touch it.” A half laugh came from Chase. Greg turned his head away so they would not see the effort he had to expend to tell them what he needed and expected from them.

“Dignity is not an option for me now. You’ve heard me scream in pain and witnessed me cry like a baby. I need your damned help. I need you to do my thinking for me.”

It had been too much for him, having to ask for help. Wilson stepped forward producing a lollipop which he placed it in Greg’s mouth. I grabbed the hand towel and dabbed away the perspiration that had beaded on his face. Greg moaned.

Greg was respected for his mind; some people even called him a genius, but only Wilson and I had seen him in pain this bad. So bad that this man, renowned for his brain, could no longer think. A muffled sob came from the other side of the room. It was Cameron.

Greg pulled away from the Lollipop. I was expecting him to be cruel. When he did speak the words came out staccato, but they were gentle. “Don’t cry Cameron. I need you here because you care, but I also need you for your brain.”

He had said just the right thing to Cameron, because she led the way. His kindness had surprised her so much that she addressed him directly.

"Why do you think there is something other than the herniated disc?" she asked.

"Because I slipped on the ice this morning and fell. Then fell again in my office. That's what blew the disc."

"But you'd been having breakthrough pain for more than a week," said Wilson

Greg nodded. Was about to speak, but instead he gasped.

"Why the hell didn't you say something about falling?" Foreman demanded.

"Good question but your timing's way off," said Wilson clearly indicating Greg was not up to any hostile interrogation.

Wilson handed me the Lollipop, which I returned to his mouth.

The small pause was all that was needed to spur the team into action. They were speaking in phrases unfamiliar to me, but fully understood by Greg. I realized why he had chosen every one of them. Cameron cared; she wanted to put a stop to his pain. Chase was creative; he wanted to have the problem sorted fast, understanding that if Greg was immobilized for any length of time he may never walk again. Foreman was the cautious one, ensuring enthusiasm didn’t end in a deadly mistake. The whiteboard filled and as bits were added other bits were wiped off.

Methylprednesilone was rubbed out on the suggested medication list. The words synnovial cyst went up under herniated disc. Then there was a phrase I had heard before which made Greg turn fearfully towards me “disintegration of muscle tissue and influx of myoglobin, potassium, and phosphorus into his circulation.”

Wilson was quick “No we are not looking at the past insult to his body. We need to keep focussed on the current problem. We can’t dismiss his history but it seems to have little to do with the herniated disc or the breakthrough pain.”

“I think we have to schedule Microdiscectomy spine surgery immediately and stop this pain. We can worry about everything else later,” Cameron finally sighed.

“It’s normally a six week wait for that procedure,” said Foreman.

“And what is normal about House? Wait six weeks and he’ll never walk again,” said Chase.

“What about fusion?” asked Foreman “It would prevent the risk of re-herniation."

“He has to twist and pivot to walk; a fusion will compromise movement,” said Chase

“That would only increase the current disability and probably increase the pain,” Cameron added.

Foreman looked at Wilson.

“Do you agree with a Microdiscectomy?”

“Yes and it has to be immediate,” said Wilson

Foreman walked over to the bed and looked Greg in the eye. “Do you agree, Dr House?”

“Yes.”

He looked at Wilson “How long since he’s eaten?”

“Long enough” said Wilson.

“Do you know a microsurgeon he hasn’t pissed off?”

“He’s okay with microsurgeons you can have your pick.”

“New York a problem?”

“No. Cuddy said ‘anything, anyone, anywhere’.” Wilson replied, confirming the order came from the top.

“Steigler?” Greg reacted to the name. Obviously it was someone he respected.

“Next you’ll be handing round Yankee tickets,” said Greg.

“You’ll have to ask Steigler for those.”

Foreman had scored a major point and he knew it.

“I’ll call Steigler now.”

He headed for the door and Chase followed.

Cameron was reluctant to leave, but just as she turned to go Greg called her.

“Dr Cameron.”

“Yes.”

“You made the right call. Thank you,” said Greg and I saw the young doctor glow at his words. “I know there is more but this has to be addressed first. You were right.”

I moved my hand away from Greg’s so she could touch it. I nodded my permission. She took his hand in hers.

“We will look after you, Doctor House.”

“I know.” he said allowing his eyes to close. Cameron looked at Wilson who indicated it was time for her to leave she put down his hand and smiled at me.

“Thank you Mrs. Warner” she said and then she left.

Wilson leant over the bed and whispered, “She’s gone. You can open your eyes now.”

But the patient was asleep.

Wilson gently removed the Lollipop from his mouth.

“They might be small but they pack a wallop,” I said.

“I use them for children with end stage cancer.” He saw my look of concern “No he only fits the profile in the child area. I think he is right, I think there is more than just a herniated disc, but I am pretty sure it’s not cancer.”

“Why don’t I go and get us both a coffee and we can sit in the corner, keep a careful watch on House, and you can tell me about Singapore,” I nodded. I needed to talk so badly, and I needed to talk to someone who loved Greg probably as much as I did.

It was such a relief to talk, so good to be able to show Wilson the photographs of us in Singapore, and then at last I told him about Phillipa. For some reason I had always kept her letter to me in my purse. I never opened it; never read it once in the five years since Greg had said, “Forget about Singapore, forget about Phillipa. Nothing is ever going to be the same again.”

“Isn’t it extraordinary that you would forget a woman like that and still have her letter with you,” said Wilson. “Are you sure you don’t mind me reading it?”

“I don’t remember what is in it.” I answered.

“I’ll read it out loud if you like,” and he did. Wilson had a softer, more calming voice than Greg, and as he read the letter I looked at that last picture of Phillipa with Greg at Changi Beach.

My dear Stacy,

Thank you for the kindness and generosity you have shown me in allowing my intrusion on your time with Gregory House. I can remember what it was like to be in love the way you are now and I am not sure I would have been as sanguine or welcoming to an ancient stranger. What you did not know, and I was not sure of until Audrey told me what you had said in the car at Changi Beach about Greg’s previous visit, was that I had met him before.

Indeed, I knew him in 1966, when he was a child. It was the first time I had been back since the war had ended. Greg was staying in Singapore with my friends Commander John Monteath and his wife Diana; a navy couple stationed at HMS Terror, the Royal Navy Shore Establishment. Greg’s mother, a delightful woman, was in the hospital; her shoulder had been badly injured in a fall. His father was on R&R leave from Vietnam. Maybe it was the effect of the war over there but we all thought he treated his son very shabbily.

His father didn’t even attend the party Diana arranged for Greg’s seventh birthday at the Officers’ Club. Greg did his best to hide how terribly hurt he was. He told Diana he still wanted to do the party piece they had rehearsed for his father to hear. That poor little boy sang “Mad Dogs and Englishmen” with tears running down his cheeks.

John Monteath was a clearance diver and a specialist in underwater mine demolition. He had met Greg’s father when he gave a series of instructional lectures to the US Marine Corps, and he was furious with the man after seeing the way he treated his son. John asked me if I could stay with them and back up Diana in looking after Greg. John had to go to sea the following day and would be away for the next two months. I was more than happy to oblige because even at seven Greg was a bright and entertaining companion.

You are probably wondering why he did not recognize my name. Well that is because no one called me Phillipa then. I was either addressed as “Pip”, “Mrs. Fox-Robinson” or “Mem-sahib.” The Raj was still alive, even though it was on its last legs. Greg called me “Foxy” because he thought it was funny and I loved it. I loved him too. I had a son who died when he was still a baby, and being around Greg helped me to recover in part from my own grief. If my son were alive today he would be 63. Had he lived, had he been anything like Gregory House, I would have been so proud.

I am not surprised he grew up to be a doctor, or chose the specialty he did. I used to take Greg to the hospital each day to visit his mother. He was interested in everything, the equipment, what illnesses people had, and he displayed an almost ghoulish fascination with surgery. One day I left him with his mother as I went to get her a magazine. When I came back she was asleep and he was gone. He had told the nurse where he was and I found him speaking to a young man who was in severe pain. I asked if Greg was annoying him and he answered that the boy was taking his mind off things.

On the way back to HMS Terror he told me about the patient who was scheduled for surgery the next morning. His leg was to be amputated because gangrene had set in following a poorly treated jungle ulcer. I felt as though my heart would break and I went to lie down. Greg spent that afternoon looking up things in the Encyclopedia Britannica at dinner he announced to Diana and myself that he was going to be a doctor when he grew up. We both thought he would want to be a surgeon, but he surprised us saying that he wanted to be a diagnostician. After he’d gone to bed Diana and I looked up the word “diagnostician” in the encyclopedia.

Stacy, I wanted you to know Greg as I remembered him all those years ago. He was a wonderful child and I feel privileged that I was able to see what a fine man he has become. Thank you again for so generously sharing Greg with this ancient stranger. He loves you so very much and I believe he has made the right choice in asking you to be his bride. Look after him; he is such a remarkable and talented man.

Noel Coward said, “We have no reliable guarantee that the afterlife will be any less exasperating than this one, have we?" and I know that Greg believes that white lights and visions are just symptomatic of the brain shutting down. However, I am hopeful that there is an afterlife because at last I feel ready to live again. If there is an afterlife I will send you back to Greg if you turn up first, and if Greg turns up before you I promise that if I am able, I will turn him around and send him back to you.

Bless you both.

Sincerely,

Phillipa.


Wilson faltered with emotion several times while reading the letter and I found myself sobbing against his shoulder.

“Stacy” Greg said quietly.

“Darling I’m sorry. We were trying to be quiet,”

“It’s alright. I heard Wilson read the letter right from the beginning. Audrey told me about how Phillipa and Foxy were the same person right after you left. But hearing her words. God she was a wonderful woman.”

“Was that young man the reason you wouldn’t allow an amputation?”

“Yes, Phillipa didn’t know but I used to go and see him everyday after the operation. The gangrene spread and they kept hacking more and more off. When I last saw him he was delirious and the room reeked of rotting flesh. The next day he was gone, and the bed was clean and empty; it was as though he had never existed.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked.

“Five years ago pain was a new to me. It frightened me. I couldn’t think properly, my leg hurt so much. I knew I couldn’t win an argument with a lawyer. And there you were begging me to live for you. But I loved you too much for that. I knew better than anyone how much damage there was, I could smell it. It was a smell I had been able to recognize from the age of seven. I wanted to die and have it over with.”

“You don’t want to die now?”

“Not anymore. Not when I look at you Stacy. I’ve been so cruel to you. Sorry darling, I am so sorry.”

“It's okay.” I kissed his forehead.

“Can you be there when I wake up?”

I nodded “I’ll sit in that little waiting room I sat in with you, and I won’t move until I get noticed and everyone knows how much I care.”

I expected Greg to smile, but he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t like the reminder of us waiting as Mark was going through the exploratory operation. It was more than that however, Greg actually looked frightened.

I stroked his face.

“I am not going anywhere I promise,” I said.

"How's the pain now?"

"Bad."

When Cuddy came in to say that Steigler was on his way, it was just before dawn. My head was resting on the bed. Greg was running his fingers through my hair. I was too tired to move, and I didn't want to move until I had to.

About a hour later they readied Greg for theater. I kissed him, and then I watched as they wheeled him away.

"He'll be alright" said Cuddy

"Yes I know." But I wasn't sure I was going to be alright.

Benj - December 12, 2005 04:36 PM (GMT)
Ouch! That's a 12 on the hurt scale, big arrrgh! :) Love House still getting in the snark on his not far from death bed. Stacy. I'm biased because I think she'd great to the point of being almost hot, but you write her so well here and I love the continuity from BWAOU. Medical research is awesome and it's developing nicely. Like the mention of the Ducks and Cameron is nowhere near as annoying in your fic (you should write her for the show)- nice one! Two updates together- I love you! :D Top stuff!

Cheers


Benj

boredincorpfin - December 13, 2005 06:28 AM (GMT)
Your Stacy is definitely HOT! and I'm a straight female. I can't believe you made me even like your Cameron. Your on fire.

On an interesting note (for myself, maybe not you) but my friend had a discectomy last week and she feels great because of it.

Like always looking forward to whenever you can update next

Magdala - December 14, 2005 07:49 AM (GMT)
LEGACIES AND LOLLIPOPS - Part FIVE
FIRST DRAFT

Sequel to ‘Breakfast with an Orang Utan’

PART FIVE

I was sitting in the waiting room outside operating theatre. I was thinking of them cutting into Greg. Frightened for him but knowing it was his choice this time. If he thought it was right it would be right. I pulled the envelope with the photographs out of my purse and started to look through the photographs.

“I was told it’s double milk and now you take sugar” said Cameron as she handed me a coffee.

“Last time I sat here it was with Greg while they did the exploratory operation on Mark” I said.

Cameron nodded, sitting down with her coffee.

“I thought you’d be in there.” I said.

“Chase is assisting and Foreman is in the Gallery. You know what’s happening?”

“Stiegler ran thought it” I really didn’t want the details I just wanted it over. I handed some of the photographs to Cameron.

“I’ve never seen him smile like that.” she said. She was looking at the one of the shots of Greg with the baby Orang Utan.

“That was at Singapore Zoo. No one ever gets to hold the baby. But Greg talked to the keeper and asked if they spoke to Ah Meng, she’s the big Orang, in Malay. They told him some of the thing they said to her and ... well you know what he is like with languages. When he sad down he looked at Ah Meng and told her she was a beautiful lady in Malay. She handed him the baby just like that. It was incredible a real privilege”

Cameron smiled as she looked as each shot. “He looks so happy.”

“He was then. We both were”

She turned to the next shot it was full length of us dancing together on the verandah of our suite at Raffles. The young doctors jaw dropped open as she looked at Greg in his white tuxedo and me in that wonderful black full length evening dress. The dress was swirled out as Greg dipped me back over his arm. “He was the most wonderful dancer.”

“Was it like your husband said. Did you leave him because of the limp?”

“Of course I didn’t. You must know him well enough to work out what happened.” I said.

“He pushed you away didn’t he. And you still love him and he still loves you.” Cameron was certain she had it all worked out.

“Who knows how he will feel when this terrible pain has gone and he just has his usual pain.” I concentrated on drinking my coffee blinking to keep tears at bay.

Then Allison Cameron told me about how he had seen me lie beside my husband on the hospital bet after Greg had cured his paralysis. She told me he look devastated and she told me how she had thought he was too screwed up to love anyone but she realized the reason he could not love her was because he loved me so much.

I just let her talk it out. She told me about going to see the Monster Trucks. She told me how Vogler had tried to destroy him and how she had resigned and her condition for returning. And she told me what he had said about her attraction to him how he thought it was because he was damaged. She realized I had told him to ease up on her and thanked me. And I thanked her for leading the meeting and caring so much.

“Greg needed you so much then. I just wish someone like you, with a brain and a heart like yours, had been around when he had the infarction.” I said. “He might have been diagnosed in time. They might have just been able to restore the circulation. He might have been alright and I might never have had to sign the proxy that allowed them to mutilate his leg. You were at that lecture he gave, weren’t you.”

“Yes.”

“Will you tell me about it? Please. Wherever I go in this hospital I get odd looks from the students and some of the medical staff. I know it is connected to that. Please Allison, tell me what Greg said.”

“I think it came as a shock because he has always been so private. Anyone mentioning his leg or asked how he was only ever did it once and there he was opening right up. Of course there were no names but everyone there had to know it was him.”

“I saw him for the first time just before he went in to give that lecture. I had just told him I was married and Mark was sick.” I told her and she looked shocked.

“What did House say?” she asked, putting the photographs on the seat beside her.

“He said he wasn’t sure he wanted to treat him because he wasn’t sure he wanted him to live.” I said registering her concerned expression “Then he went straight into the lecture. He was terribly hurt I don’t think it had occurred to him that I might marry.”

“I didn’t get into the lecture hall until they had their first break. I heard a couple of the students talking about it in the ladies room. They were rushing off to bring in the students who normally avoided their usual lecturer.”

As she told me what had gone on I realized what a state I must have left him in. Obviously it during that lecture that he decided to treat Mark. I was surprised how detailed her memory was and worse still how clearly Greg had remembered everything. It was exactly as I remembered it. Every terrifying moment.

Cameron put her arms round me and puts mine round her we both started weeping for the man we both loved.

I did not see or hear anyone else around until the squeak of the rubber wheels of a chair stopping on the linoleum made me look up.

“A writ of Habeas Corpus was it? Or have you gone back to your old dancing partner?”

My husband Mark had picked up the photograph of Greg dancing with me.

He was shaking with fury and even sitting in a wheelchair he looked dangerous. “I know House is sick one of the nurses thought I should be told what was going on.”

Mark turned the photograph around and looked at it with distaste then he ripped it in half dropping the half which contained my image in the wonderful black dress. And then slowly and cruelly he ripped the image of Greg into tiny little bits.

For the first time since our marriage I was frightened of my husband.

Magdala - December 14, 2005 01:58 PM (GMT)
NOTE REGARDING PART FOUR: Thanks to a conversation on the spoilers strand on the Devoted to Hugh Forum I discovered I had snookered myself on this story. Once realising this I was to find a clear way through.

http://hughlaurie.info/index.php?showtopic=3921&st=60&#last

I have modified part four accordingly.

I have now make it clear that House's herniated disc is due to two earlier falls that day. However the reason he is aware that some other problem exists is that he has been experiencing break through pain for more than a week therefore predating the disc.

His staff, Cuddy and Wilson will try to insist he advises people of falls etc once he is out of pain and can take in information.

Sorry to mess you all around like this.

boredincorpfin - December 14, 2005 11:43 PM (GMT)
Wow! I had completely forgotten about Mark. I think it was a great place to bring him back into the story. :)


cutterdog - December 15, 2005 01:40 AM (GMT)
...I never liked Mark...Glad to see Stacy get her due--she's not the simplistic evil bitch so many fans see.

Nice job.

mt83 - December 15, 2005 05:57 PM (GMT)
I second that...It seems as though because he is a guidence counselor maybe that makes Stacy less lonely, because he can let her in. Though I don't even see that in him. I wish I could communicate this better. :)

natalie - December 15, 2005 10:50 PM (GMT)
I agree with cutterdog...

QUOTE
...I never liked Mark...Glad to see Stacy get her due--she's not the simplistic evil bitch so many fans see.


Anyway, great work... :)

Magdala - December 16, 2005 03:54 AM (GMT)
Thank you all for the encouraging words.


LEGACIES AND LOLLIPOPS - Part SIX

Sequel to ‘Breakfast with an Orang Utan’

PART SIX

Cameron stood up immediately. Very much the doctor she sought to immediately establish her authority.

“Mr Warner. This is not the time or the place.”

“Oh the cute doctor. Another one in love with him.” He puts his hand back on the wheel push rings pushing backwards. I just sat staring at him. Cameron moved towards him. But he wasn’t going to let her touch the chair. He moved it forward. Fast. Really fast.

I was almost not quick enough. If I hadn’t lifted my legs up and swung them over the chair beside me he would have driven the foot plate straight into my leg.

“You’re quick, you bitch. What you afraid of. Having a bum leg like him. That what you’re scared of ... or not being able to walk like me?”

“You are going to be able to walk Mr Warner. You know that?” Cameron had taken charge of the chair and was pushing my husband out of the waiting room.

“House put me in this damned thing” he yelled turning his head to look at her. “House and my loving wife there. You’re sick you’ve got to see him ‘...he can cure you, my dearest’ she said. Yeah and now I’m in this chair.”

“He did cure you.” said Cameron. “You will be out of that chair soon.”

“Oh yeah. Well after I’ve told my story he won’t be messing with anymore patients.”

I knew I had to stop this right now. I chased after them and told Cameron I would take it from there. As she moved her hands from the chair so I could take it. She said to me under her breath so I could only hear. “Do you want me to call security?”

“No. His therapist” I whispered back. And started to push Mark as fast as I could out of the waiting room. Into the corridor and headed for the lift.

“Where are we going, wife?” He asked. “All that talk of your lover make you hot?”

“Shut up.” I said

“Shut up, eh. You married me for better or for worse. Welcome to the worse.”

As we arrived at the lift the door opened to reveal Wilson who was about to get out. I mouthed ‘Don’t move” and he instantly understood moving back so I could push Mark into the lift and turn the chair around so it faced the door.

““Hi Mark, therapy day? What floor, Stacy?” asked Wilson stepping round the chair to press the lift button.

“Uuhm." I hadn't a clue then I made a quick decision, "We’re going to my office” I said, Wilson pressed the button. The doors closed and the lift moved.

“How cosy. Here I am stuck in the lift with both of House’s lovers.”

Wilson laughed at him. “I have a hard enough time with the women in my life without turning to House for love.” he said.

“You think a school counselor isn’t smart enough to know things?” Mark turned his head to me. “Let go of my chair, dammit.”

“So you can take another run at my leg? No way.”

“Think I might break it next time?” Mark challenged

Wilson clenched his jaw. Then he pressed the red ‘stop’ button and stood in front of the lift controls looking straight at Mark. He was establishing that he was in charge and I relaxed a bit feeling much safer.

“Okay. What’s going on?” Wilson asked.

“One of the nurses rang him and told him to come in.” I said.

“She thought I should know what was going on.” Mark said.

“And what did she tell you was going on?”

“Why should I tell you? You'd already know?”

“All I know is my friend is in surgery right now. What I want to know is why you are here and why you are threatening your wife?”

“Because she is my wife. Mine and nobody else’s.”

“And you cannot talk to her like that. Nor can you threaten her. What century do you think we are living in?” Wilson pressed the restart button and indicated that I should moved away from the wheelchair and placed his hands where mine had been on the handles.

“Like you’re the expert on marriage. I’ve heard about you.”

“As least I have never verbally or physically abused my wives.” said Wilson calmly then he addressed me “Stacy if you get out at the next floor you can get back to what you were doing. I’ll stay with Mark and make sure he gets to therapy or has a ride home.”

“Thanks, Jim” I said and as a stepped forward Mark grabbed my wrist.

“Ouch” I said my wrist bruised from Greg’s grip was starting to show colour.

“What happened to your wrist?” Mark asked.

“I hurt it.” I said.

“I’m sorry.” Mark looked really concerned. Truly upset for what had just happened.

"I am so sorry," he said.

“I know you’re sorry. I’ll see you later alright?” I said the door opened. A bunch of students were waiting to enter the lift.

“Yes see you later,” said Mark he winked at the students “What, no kiss my love?”

I leant down to kiss him on the cheek and as I did his hand came up and he hit me hard in the face. The blow was hard enough to throw me against the wall of the life. I saw the surprise on the students faces.

“Call security” Mark ordered. “Look after Mrs Warner.”

“Yes Dr Wilson ... yes Doctor Wilson” the chorus confirmed his orders would be followed to the letter. On of the female students took me to a chair and one of the males grabbed his pager. Instead of continuing Wilson wheeled Mark out of the lift past us all.

“I am taking him to my office” Wilson said making sure everyone knew where they would be. “Tell security.”

The tallest strongest looking male student fell in beside Wilson “Want me to come too?”

“Good idea” Wilson answered.

The student opened the door of Wilson’s office and held it. Mark started to look anxious.

“I don’t want to go in there.” he said.

“Tough” said Wilson

“I have a ride waiting. I was brought in by a friend?” said Mark worried for the first time that he might be in trouble.

“Cameron’s calling his therapist, Jim” I called after them.

“Good.” Wilson called back. “the more the merrier.”

Two of the students were looking at me, “Does it hurt? Mrs Warner?”

“I think I’m just shaken” I answered.

For a while they examined my face careful not to ask why he had hit me. Simply dealing with the injury. My face felt hot but as yet it did not hurt. The lift opened and a security guard and Dr Cuddy emerged.

“They are in Dr Wilson’s office” said one of the students. The security man wasted no time in entering.

Lisa Cuddy turned to me.

“He hit you?”

“We all saw it. It was a closed fist.” confirmed the student beside me.

“The first time?”

I shook my head. It was not the first time. The first time I thought it was because he was ill. I thought it was the same reason the second time.

Cuddy looked at her watch as she addressed the students. “You had better go to your lecture now. I don’t want you discussing this alright?”

They nodded their agreement. It took several minutes for them to leave as there were too many students for the two lifts. The girl student who had first taken care of me said. “I hope it doesn’t hurt too much. It was assault you know that?”

“Yes I do. I’m a lawyer.”

“I’m sorry ... I didn’t mean...” she didn’t mean to presume to tell me to press charges or leave my husband.

“It’s alright. Thank you for being so kind. You were one of the student’s at Dr House’s lecture weren’t you?” I knew she was because she fitted Cameron’s decision. She nodded.

“You were right. It was wrong of me to use the proxy against his wishes.” I said.

“We heard Dr House was in surgery and Stiegler was here from New York?”

“The surgery went well. He’s in recovery. Dr House is going to be fine.” said Cuddy to the student and relief flooded over me as I too heard the news.

The student smiled and walked into the lift. As the doors closed I turned to Cuddy.

“You go now so you can be there when he wakes up,” said Cuddy We’ll look after your husband.”

“But he is my husband I have to deal with this. He is my responsibility.” I said.

“This is my hospital. My legal counsel has just been assaulted by a patient and my top diagnostician will soon be coming round from an operation. House won't want to see any face but your’s Stacy when he opens his eyes. Leave Mark to us okay.”

I nodded and stood.

“Right. Get down to recovery and get someone to ice that for you, okay.”

Cuddy accompanied my to the lift and pressed the button. I entered the lift and pressed the button to the floor I had left with my husband as the lift doors closed I saw Cuddy knock on Wilson’s door.

I felt my face where Mark had hit me it was tender and hoped Greg would not notice. I looked at myself in the reflective panel around the lift buttons. It was reddening and there would probably be a bruise. It was no worse than before and I knew how to handle it.

Makeup had become my friend. Like Greg’s Vicodin it masked my pain and allowed me to do my job.

mt83 - December 16, 2005 01:06 PM (GMT)
Wow. The way you crafted Mark's character based on your views of him, and what might happen, coupled with Stacy's view that the illness made him aggressive (She really would think that). I cannot wait to see what happens when House wakes up. Will House find out? I don't think anyone would TELL him but he always finds things out somehow.
Exciting! But also thought provoking.
Can't wait for the next!
-Melissa

Magdala - December 17, 2005 07:35 AM (GMT)
LEGACIES AND LOLLIPOPS - Part SEVEN
Sequel to ‘Breakfast with an Orang Utan’

With thanks to MacNMolly for information on the microdiscectomy.

PART SEVEN

This was the third time I had sat by his side in recovery waiting for his eyes to open. Every time I had been frightened. The first time I was frightened for him because I didn’t know if he would even survive the operation let alone the pain that would follow. The second time I was frightened of him and how he would react to what I had done in using the power of attorney as soon as Cuddy induced the coma. And now five years later I was frightened for Greg but I was fearful of what Mark could do. If he could get to me and hit me in front of a group of strangers what was he capable of? What might he do to Greg? I was fitter and faster than Greg when he was well but now he was helpless and while Mark professed to loved me he openly loathed Greg.

I had iced my cheek but it was puffing up. I had put makeup on but the bruising was showing though. I sat on the side of Greg’s bed so when he woke he could as much of my face as possible with seeing the damage. And I had pulled my hair forward so it covered more of my face.

Stiegler came though still in his scrubs he looked at me first holding my chin and lifting my hair. Obviously he had been told what had happened. “You can pick em. Mind you the bastard that did that makes House look like an absolute sweetheart.” He put my hair back. “Try not to let him see that”

He went round the other side of the bed and turned his attention to Greg, He clicked his fingers near Greg's ear. “House wake up. House.” He claps his hands. “House” ... nothing.

“Greg. Greg.” I said and his eyelids slowly opened to about halfway and then closed again. “Greg, darling please wake up.”

His eyes opened slowly he was dazed from the anaesthetic but he looked at me and squeezed my hand before drifting off again. His mouth was moving as though he was trying to talk.

“He wants water he gets frantic when his mouth is dry. If I could just give him some ice?” Stiegler signalled the nurse who came back almost immediately with some ice in a saucer and a small cloth. I picked up the ice in the cloth and put it to Greg’s lips. I gently rubbed the ice over his dry lips and he opened his mouth a let the final sliver ice fall into his mouth and picked up the next one with my fingers.

“They‘re clean I washed them carefully before coming in here.” I explained to the surgeon who smiled back at me. I put the next piece of ice into Greg’s mouth holding it between first and second fingers was able to guide it over his tongue and around his gums.

“Careful of your fingers there might be a bit of pain and he could bite down.” he said. I removed my hand but I wasn’t scared of Greg I knew he would never hurt me physically.

Greg’s eyes half opened, “Hey” he said like he has said so many times before,

“Hey” I answered.

Stiegler checked Greg out pulse, blood pressure, “How you feeling?”

“Okay”

“Any pain? The nerve roots had taken a battering?” the surgeon cared

“I can manage.” said Greg.

“You don’t have to manage. You have pain you tell us. Understand” This was so different Greg even foggy from the anaesthetic appreciated the difference.

“There’s pain” he said with a slight grunt.

“Give me a number?”

“Six”

“Right I’ll give you something now and then we will get you back to the room.”

Greg looked at me. Careful to hide my bruises I couldn’t look at him face on.

“Are you going to stay?”

“If you want me to.” I said.

“What do you want?” he asked.

Stiegler was injecting morphine via the cannular and could not help overhearing.

“I want to stay.” I said “You must know I want to stay.”

“Everybody lies.”

“House that’s crap and you know it” said Stiegler matter of factly as he removed the empty syringe.

Greg smiled.

“Some people find repetition annoying.”

“I love you” he mumbled.

“You can repeat that as often as you like” but Greg did not hear he was asleep.

Stiegler addressed me.

“He’ll probably sleep for about four hours” He looked at the clock on the wall. It showed about 11.30 am.

He guided me out of recovery to a corridor where Wilson was waiting. They nodded to each other but Stiegler kept talking to me.

“I’m guessing you would have missed about three meals, fallen in love again, been the victim of spousal abuse, tanked a marriage and about now you should be heading into fear of the future ... I think you need protein. Tell me the best restaurant in Princeton and once I have proper clothes on I’ll make Dr Wilson take us there.”

“She doesn’t know the best restaurant in Princeton but I am happy to take you both there. Go change I need to look at her face.”

“Just remember it’s not cancer. Jim. Pick your specialist you pick your illness.” and the micro surgeon headed off suddenly I called after him.

“Hey. Do you play the piano?” I asked.

“Yes but not as well as Greg.” He answered.

I smiled.

“What was that about?” Wilson asked.

“His hands. They are like Greg’s”

“Come over to the window. Let’s have a look at that cheek. God Stacy. You’re wearing more makeup than Dolly Parton.”

“I didn’t want Greg to see it.” I explained.

“Greg wouldn’t have been surprised. He knows what your husband can do?”

I looked at Wilson in horror.

“Greg didn’t slip on ice yesterday morning. Mark was waiting for him in the car park. Mark ran the chair into him like he tried to with you.”

“My God, Jim. Is he mad?”

“No Stacy. I think he’s just bad.”

“So that was why ...?”

“Yup and we thought Greg was the crazy one”

Of course. Greg hadn’t said anything but it explained his snooping. Copying the clinical notes, attending the group therapy session. He’d even saved Steve McQueen from Mark. But he couldn’t save himself.

“How did you find out?” I asked

“Mark told me. He was quite proud off it. He thought I would understand. Sociopaths have a tendency to think everything they do is justified”

“Where is Mark now?”

“I did a House, I dosed him. It’s okay he’s safe he’s sleeping it on in psych awaiting assessment.” Wilson could see this worried me. “Stacy I had to make sure he didn’t have another go at House.”

“What am I going to do?”

“Cuddy’s doing it you don’t have to do a thing. Stacy your husband has attacked two valued members of the staff here and caused serious injury to one of them. We have other lawyers and Cuddy is with them now.

“Does she need to see me?”

“No she needs you to be strong and nutrition seems to be high on the list of essentials. After we see what’s under that mask you are wearing.”

Wilson took me into a consulting room in the clinic where he gloved, washed the makeup off my face and checked at the damage. “Tender?” he asked touching it. He took a torch and looked inside my mouth and up into my cheek. “Bled into your mouth, did you?”

“I think so but I was on my way down to Greg.” I said.

Tissue’s still in your purse?” He asked and I nodded taking them out and putting them into his gloved hands.

“No chilli for you at lunch or lemon. Your teeth have chopped your mouth up pretty good. Give them a wiggle will you. Make sure nothing’s loose.” He held out a rubber glove for me and I put my hand into it. I felt around carefully.

“No they’re okay”

“You’re lucky you don’t need stitches.” He pulled off my rubber glove and the one he was wearing and dumped them in the bin. Then he asked the key questions.

“What is it you want to do, Stacy?” He said.

“I don’t know?”

“Are you one of those women who believe that men like Mark can change?” he said without emotion.

“I don’t want to see him ever again I know I’ll have to but I don’t want to. He was nothing like the Mark I met and married.” I said.

“Maybe it was the first time you saw the real man.” he said “House is reckless but he brings out the truth in people.”

“I won’t hurt him again. I promise you that.”

“You’d better not because there isn’t going to be all that much time to fix things.”

“You aren’t saying.”

“No I’m not saying he is dying. But Stacy he won’t make old bones without a helluva a lot of love and care.”

Before heading out for lunch I went and washed and reapplied my makeup. As we drove into Princeton I asked Wilson to stop at the most distinguished men’s store in town. I got back in the car with my one small bag. Wilson smiled and reached out an open hand to the micro surgeon in the back seat who put a fifty dollar note in his palm.

“After shave?” asked Wilson.

“Yes” I said. Wilson added the fifty to his bill-fold. “You two were betting on my shopping.”

Wilson laughed for the second time that day but this time he seemed happy.

Magdala - December 18, 2005 03:07 AM (GMT)
LEGACIES AND LOLLIPOPS - Part EIGHT
Sequel to ‘Breakfast with an Orang Utan’

With thanks to MacNMolly for information on the microdiscectomy.

PART EIGHT


I didn’t realise how tired or how hungry I was until I sat down in the restaurant. The two doctors decided I needed steak and even though the filet could have easily been cut with a butter knife it hurt to chew. My companions were concerned by my discomfort but assured me it was normal after the hit Mark had delivered. Stiegler decided the cure was champagne and ordered Verve Cliquot declaring it his treat. It certainly helped and I was happy to not have to make any effort in the conversation it was high level doctor stuff and I only became involved when they discussed Greg’s pain management. Both agreed he needed a ‘holiday from pain’and felt they might be able to achieve it if he was carefully monitored.

We didn’t linger over lunch, despite the elegance of the surroundings, it was no more than an intake of fuel. Afterwards the manager handed Wilson his car keys and asked him to give Dr House his regards and hopes for a quick recovery.

We went straight from the restaurant to the place I had rented in Princeton. Both of the doctors came in and waited in my living room for me to shower and change. I looked at the spreading bruise there was nothing I could do hide it completely. Both men looked at me admiringly as joined them ready to go back to the hospital.

“I couldn’t cover the mark I look like a battered wife.”

“You are a battered wife,” said Wilson and I realised it was true. I had covered up so often for Mark whenever he threw something I cleared it away. When he hit me I put on more makeup or sunglasses. After every burst of violence the evidence was removed as though it hadn’t happened.

I realised I had fallen into the trap. Early in my career I did some pro bono work which often involved spousal abuse. I had noticed the problem then the wife cleared away away the mess her husband had make and at the same time her memory was wiped clear. I won the cases for them when I stopped them cleaning up.

“I don’t want Greg to see this?” God women made that sort of excuse to me only with them it was ‘the children mustn’t see this’ I looked at Stiegler. “You thought he should see it.”

“That was before I knew what he had done to Greg” he answered.

“You can’t lie to Greg.” said Wilson. “You’d better grab anything you value Mark might get himself lawyered up and this would be the first place he would come.”

So they had been guarding me. I went into the bedroom and packed a small case quickly then I went into the bathroom and cleared my toiletries and perfumes into an overnight bag. I rushed back into the bedroom and did a last check of the cupboards and Wardrobe. I was about to shut it when Wilson grabbed my thick winter coat.

“Ready?” he asked

“Ready.” I said.

“Got everything you need for the next few days?”

“I’ve got everything I need. It doesn’t matter if I never come back.” Wilson smiled and then he kissed me oh so gently on my bruised cheek.

“Trying to kiss it better” I asked.

“Well it’s worth a try.”

“I wish I could kiss Greg better.” I said.

“It’s bound to help him, kiddo” He picked up my case and we headed out of the door.

I looked at the house as we drove away and knew at that moment I had ended my marriage. Wilson must have known it too because he took one hand off the steering wheel and placed it over mine.

Greg was still asleep and Chase was with him watching and waiting.

“No problems. No pain he has just slept” the Australian reported.

“Were you able to get the bloods” asked Wilson.

“They went to pathology an hour ago.” Chase noticed my cheek. “They told me he got you too.”

“Everyone knows then?”

“He decked you in front of twentyfive people. You can’t keep a lid on that.” said Chase “for what it’s worth public opinion favours you and House getting together again. And so do I.”

“Out” said Wilson to Chase who left grinning. I wasn’t sure how I felt about everyone knowing but it was good to know they thought Greg and I should be together.

I sat down and looked at Greg. Pain had etched lines into his face and weight loss make his fine soft skin seemed almost loose resting on the bone and cartilege of his face and skull. I loved his face. Asleep he looked so peaceful his large eyelids crinkled as his eyes moved below them I put my hand against his cheek feeling the stubble of his unshaven jaw agaist my palm and the smooth skin of his temple with it’s soft regular beating pulse under my fingers. I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to crawl onto the bed beside him hold him and nestle against him.

A nurse entered with a bed bath pack. “Oh sorry. I was about to wash him” she said.

“Go ahead” said Wilson. The nurse looked at me unwilling to continue with me in the room. “It’s alright.”

Greg turned his head and kissed the palm of my hand which was against his face. Then his eyes fluttered open,

“Stacy?”

“Right here, Greg.” he turned his head and looked at me. His eyes fixed on my cheek and he was suddenly alert.

“What happened to you? Who did that to you?” His eyes filled with concern. He was appalled by the bruise.

“It was Mark he hit me. He got me too. Why didn’t you report him?” I asked.

Greg shut his eyes for a moment.

“Because he’s your husband and because I thought I had driven him to it. Oh God Stacy I never thought he would lash out at you. Does it hurt?”

“A bit” I admitted.

“I’m so sorry” his eyes were tearing.

“Pain?” asked Wilson.

“Don’t worry about me has anyone checked out Stacy?”

“I’m fine, Greg. Honestly. It’s just a bruise and theres a small cut inside my mouth. But everything is fine.” he reached out with both hands and pulled me to him enfolding me in his arms. He felt so wonderful his body against mine.

“I don’t think you should be moving like this?”

“It’s okay darling. Microdiscectomy wouldn’t have changed the mechanical structure of my lower spine. This time they had the good sense to bring in an artist not a plumber to work on me.”

I could see him from where I was but I knew Stiegler would be smiling.

“Greg. I’ve left Mark.”

“Really. You mean it?” He said and I nodded.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“If you are very, very careful.” gently he put his lips to mind but was careful not to open his mouth or mine then he gently kissed the bruise as Wilson had done and then he just held me to him. I could feel his heart beating and the air enter his lungs followed by a shuddering intake of breath. I could feel the rumble of his voice.

“It’s about an eight.” Dread flowed through me like a wave in the North Atlantic. I shivered

“That’s the breakthrough pain. That’s not the spine.” I heard Wilson say.

“Yes” he said simply. Oh God.

boredincorpfin - December 18, 2005 04:17 AM (GMT)
You're spoiling us by updating so quickly. I just popped on the net to do some work and i'm greeted by 2 updates. B)

I love the way that this story is going, even the battered Stacy which initially i didn't like but i love how this is progressing.

Looking forward to more whenever you can manage it.

Magdala - December 19, 2005 02:45 AM (GMT)
I have just put up the edited version of part four of this story. I thank Taruia for returning to health and doing such a beautiful edit. She corrected my appalling punctuation, spelling and Britishisms and without puttin in a word of her own nudged me into clarification, improving the pace, structure and drama. She is an outstanding editor in the American tradition set so magnifently by H.L. Menken and others.

Please have another look at episode four it is so improved by Taru's touch.

Benj - December 19, 2005 09:32 AM (GMT)
Magdala - this is hurt/comfort paradise! Ouch Stacy getting lamped but Bye-Bye Mark made me happy. This 'breakthorugh pain' concept is really interesting stuff too- you've drawn it really well and the plot has evolved around it perfectly. Great stuff, I'm totally hooked :D !

Magdala - December 22, 2005 12:58 PM (GMT)
REWRITES AND EDITS

I am putting Parts Five through Eight up together on this site only as then you will be able to really see Taru's fine work on this piece.

A couple of people elsewhere post-emptively attacked me for not having my story betaed despite the fact they were clearly marked as FIRST DRAFT. I hope they will be content when I have posted the corrected chapters of LEGACIES AND LOLLIPOPS.

I thank Taruia for so kindly offering to edit my work. You will see how much a good editor gives to a writer's work without imposing their own words or attitudes on the text. Taruia is a fine editor and she is also the person who provides us with those invaluable transcripts of HOUSE MD at http://malaquent.tripod.com/house/index.html . I also thank MacNMolly for her invaluable information on microdiscectomy spine surgery.

This story is a mild AU. It is a continuation of my previous fic "Breakfast with an Orang Utan" therefore the characters behave in character to their shared experiences in that fiction as well as their shared experiences at PPTH. If this is not your preferred form of fan fiction I suggest you read other stories on this site.


LEGACIES AND LOLLIPOPS - Part Five
Written by Magdala
Editor/beta: Taruia



PART FIVE

I was sitting in the waiting room outside operating theatre, thinking of them cutting into Greg. Frightened for him, but knowing it was his choice this time. If he thought it was right, it would be right. I pulled the envelope with the photographs out of my purse and started to look through them.

“I was told it’s double milk and now you take sugar,” said Cameron. She startled me I hadn’t noticed her come in she apologized for surprising me as she handed me the coffee.

“Last time I sat here it was with Greg while they did the exploratory operation on Mark,” I said.

Cameron nodded, sitting down with her coffee.

“I thought you’d be in there,” I said. Since I had worked at the hospital I had noticed that while everyone thought of Greg as a solitary man, he was often surrounded by his team. He could be cruel and mean but they respected him and Cameron, well she loved him.

“Chase is assisting and Foreman is in the Gallery. You know what’s happening?”

“Steigler ran thought it,” I really didn’t want the details of the operation I just wanted it over. But I did to talk about Greg I had opened up to Wilson and now I wanted other people to know about my time with Greg. I handed some of the photographs to Cameron. I knew she wanted to see them. It occurred to me that if I denied her she might ask Greg about them and I didn’t want that so sharing them telling her of our experiences in Singapore seemed the better idea.

“I’ve never seen him smile like that,” she said. She was looking at the one of the shots of Greg with the baby Orang Utan.

“That was at Singapore Zoo. No one ever gets to hold the baby, but Greg talked to the keeper and asked if they spoke to Ah Meng, she’s the big Orang, in Malay. They told him some of the things they said to her and ... well you know what he is like with languages. When he sat down he looked at Ah Meng and told her she was a beautiful lady in Malay. She handed him the baby just like that. It was incredible, a real privilege,” looking at the tiny Orang Utan me smile spontaneously and I noticed it had the same affect on Cameron.

Cameron looked as each shot carefully. “Dr. House looks so happy.”

“He was then. We both were.”

She turned to the next shot. It was a full length one of us dancing together on the verandah of our suite at Raffles. The young doctor’s jaw dropped open as she looked at Greg in his white tuxedo, and me in that wonderful black full-length evening dress. The dress was swirled out as Greg dipped me back over his arm. “He was the most wonderful dancer.”

“Was it like your husband said? Did you leave him because of the limp?” She was almost accusing me.

“Of course I didn’t. You must know him well enough to work out what happened,” I said. Cameron thought about it and nodding seemed to understand.

“He pushed you away didn’t he? And you still love him and he still loves you,” Cameron was certain she had it all worked out.

“Who knows how he will feel when this terrible pain has gone and he just has his usual pain,” I concentrated on drinking my coffee blinking to keep tears at bay.

Then Allison Cameron told me about how he had seen me lie beside my husband on the hospital bed after Greg had cured his paralysis. She told me he looked devastated and she told me how she had thought he was too screwed up to love anyone, but she realized the reason he could not love her was because he loved me so much.

I just let her talk it out. She told me about going to see the Monster Trucks. She told me how Vogler had tried to destroy him, and how she had resigned, and her condition for returning. She also told me what he had said about her attraction to him; how he thought it was because he was damaged. She realized I had told him to ease up on her and thanked me. And I thanked her for leading the meeting and caring so much.

“Greg needed you so much so much last night when you were all working on the white board. I just wish someone like you, with a brain and a heart like yours, had been around when he had the infarction,” I said. “He might have been diagnosed in time. They might have just been able to restore the circulation. He might have been all right and I might never have had to sign the proxy that allowed them to mutilate his leg. You were at that lecture he gave, weren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Will you tell me about it? Please. Wherever I go in this hospital I get odd looks from the students and some of the medical staff. I know it is connected to that. Please Allison, tell me what Greg said.”

“I think it came as a shock because he has always been so private. Anyone mentioning his leg or asking how he was only ever did it once, and there he was opening right up. Of course there were no names but everyone there had to know it was him.”

“I saw him for the first time just before he went in to give that lecture. I had just told him I was married and Mark was sick,” I told her and she looked shocked.

“What did House say?” she asked, putting the photographs on the seat beside her.

“He said he wasn’t sure he wanted to treat him because he wasn’t sure he wanted him to live,” I said, registering her concerned expression. “Then he went straight into the lecture. He was terribly hurt, I don’t think it had occurred to him that I might marry.”

“I didn’t get into the lecture hall until they had their first break. I heard a couple of the students talking about it in the ladies room. They were rushing off to bring in the students who normally avoided the lecturer who was sick that day.”

As she told me what had gone on, I realized what a state I must have left him in. Obviously it during that lecture that he decided to treat Mark. I was surprised how detailed her memory was, and worse still how clearly Greg had remembered everything. It was exactly as I remembered it. Every terrifying moment.

Cameron put her arms around me, and I put mine round her acknowledging our mutual understanding and concern for the man we both loved.

I though we were alone in the room. I didn’t notice anyone enter. Then I heard the squeak of the rubber wheels of a chair stopping on the linoleum. It was my husband Mark

“A writ of Habeas Corpus was it? Or have you gone back to your old dancing partner?” The harsh sarcasm surprised Cameron. “Oh don’t stop hugging my wife Dr Cameron I would much rather she was into girls than this.”

Mark had picked up the photograph of Greg dancing with me from the chair beside Cameron. He held it up shaking with fury. Even sitting in a wheelchair he looked dangerous.

“I know House is sick; one of the nurses thought I should be told what was going on.”

Mark turned the photograph around and looked at it with distaste; then he ripped it in half, dropping the half that contained my image in the wonderful black dress. Then slowly and cruelly he ripped the image of Greg into tiny little bits.

For the first time since our marriage, I was frightened of my husband.



LEGACIES AND LOLLIPOPS - Part Six
Written by Magdala
Editor/beta: Taruia



PART SIX

Cameron stood up immediately. Very much the doctor, she sought to immediately establish her authority.

“Mr. Warner. This is not the time or the place.”

“Oh the cute doctor. Another one in love with him.” He put his hand back on the wheel rims, pushing backwards. I just sat staring at him. Cameron moved towards him, but he wasn’t going to let her touch the chair. He moved it forward. Fast. Really fast.

I was almost not quick enough. If I hadn’t lifted my legs up, and swung them over the chair beside me, he would have driven the footrest straight into my leg.

“You’re quick, you bitch. What you afraid of? Having a bum leg like him? That what you’re scared of ... or not being able to walk like me?” There was deadness in his eyes and his voice was cold with fury.

“You are going to be able to walk Mr. Warner.” Cameron had taken charge of the chair and was pushing my husband out of the waiting room.

“House put me in this damned thing!” he yelled, turning his head to look at her. “House and my loving wife there. You’re sick, you’ve got to see him, ‘...he can cure you, my dear’ she said. Yeah and now I’m in this chair.”

“He did cure you,” said Cameron. “You will be out of that chair soon. You would have died if Dr House hadn’t taken your case”

“Oh yeah. Well after I’ve told my story he won’t be messing with anymore patients.” He hadn’t taken in Cameron’s words. His anger was feeding on itself.

I knew I had to stop this right now. I chased after them and told Cameron I would take it from there. As she moved her hands from the chair so I could take it, she said to me under her breath, so I could only hear, “Do you want me to call security?”

“No. His therapist,” I whispered back. I started to push Mark as fast as I could out of the waiting room. I hurried into the corridor and headed for the lift.

“Where are we going, wife?” He asked. “All that talk of your lover make you hot?”

“Shut up,” I said. But that was all I dared say I had to try to keep everything even. I knew that showing annoyance would only make his anger increase

“Shut up, eh. You married me for better or for worse. Welcome to the worse.” Mark spat out,

As we arrived at the lift, the door opened to reveal Wilson who was about to get out. I mouthed ‘Don’t move” and he instantly understood, moving back so I could push Mark into the lift and turn the chair around so it faced the door.

“Hi Mark, therapy day? What floor, Stacy?” asked Wilson stepping around the chair to press the lift button.

“Uuhm." I hadn't a clue then I made a quick decision, "We’re going to my office,” I said, and Wilson pressed the button. The doors closed and the lift moved.

“How cozy. Here I am stuck in the lift with both of House’s lovers.”

Wilson laughed at him. “I have a hard enough time with the women in my life without turning to House for love.” he said trying to lighten the mood.

“You think a school counselor isn’t smart enough to know things?” Mark turned his head to me. “Let go of my chair, dammit.”

“So you can take another run at my leg? No way.”

“Think I might break it next time?” Mark challenged.

Wilson clenched his jaw. Then he pressed the red ‘stop’ button, and stood in front of the lift controls looking straight at Mark. He was establishing that he was in charge, and I relaxed a bit, feeling much safer.

“Okay. What’s going on?” Wilson asked looking straight at the furious man in the chair.

“One of the nurses rang him and told him to come in.” I said.

“She thought I should know what was going on.” Mark said as though he was the injured party.

“And what did she tell you was going on?” asked Wilson in a calm professional manner.

“Why should I tell you? You'd already know?”

“What I want to know is why you are here and why you are threatening your wife?”

“Because she is my wife. Mine and nobody else’s.”

“And you cannot talk to her like that. Nor can you threaten her. What century do you think we are living in?” Wilson pressed the restart button, and indicated that I should move away from the wheelchair. He placed his hands where mine had been on the handles.

“Like you’re the expert on marriage. I’ve heard about you.” He seemed to have switched his attack to Wilson.

“As least I have never verbally or physically abused my wives,” Wilson said calmly.

“Maybe your wives have never gone after Greg House” he spat out Greg’s name. “Cuckold. That’s the old English term. You never been cuckolded by your wife and your good friend House.”

“Save that for group therapy, Mark” said Wilson and then turned to me.


“Stacy if you get out on the next floor you can get back to what you were doing. I’ll stay with Mark and make sure he gets to therapy or has a ride home.”

“Thanks, Jim,” I said, but as a stepped forward, Mark grabbed my wrist.

“Ouch” I couldn’t hide the pain in my voice. My wrist, bruised from Greg’s grip, was starting to show color.

“What happened to your wrist?” Mark asked. As he looked at the wrist his anger seemed to dissipate.

“I hurt it.” I said.

“I’m sorry.” Mark looked really concerned. Truly upset for what had just happened.

"I am so sorry," he said.

“I know you’re sorry. I’ll see you later alright?” I said the door opened. A bunch of students were waiting to enter the lift.

“Yes see you later,” Mark said, and he winked at the students. “What, no kiss my love?”

I leant down to kiss him on the cheek, and as I did his hand came up and he hit me hard in the face. The blow was hard enough to throw me against the wall of the lift. I saw the surprise on the students’ faces.

“Call security” Wilson ordered. “Look after Mrs. Warner.”

“Yes Dr. Wilson ... yes sir” the chorus confirmed his orders would be followed to the letter. One of the female students took me to a chair, and one of the males grabbed his pager. Instead of continuing on their journey, Wilson wheeled Mark out of the lift past us all.

“I am taking him to my office,” Wilson said making sure everyone knew where they would be. “Tell security.”

The tallest, strongest looking male student fell in beside Wilson “Want me to come too?”

“Good idea,” Wilson answered.

The student opened the door of Wilson’s office and held it. Mark started to look anxious.

“I don’t want to go in there,” he said.

“Tough,” said Wilson allowing his disgust with Mark’s behavior to show.

Mark started to flail his arms grabbing for the wheels of the chair trying to take control of the situation But the big young student was too quick fo