In Sickness and Sonnets - A House MD & Dead Poets Society Fanfiction

I Fought The Law

"You pulled my authorization?!" Wilson's voice cracks through the office like a whip, his palms flat against the sleek, reflective glass desk. His face is flushed with exasperation, but Vogler, seated behind a desk of well-organised papers, barely flinches.

Vogler's lips curl into a smirk as he laces his fingers over a thick file. "I've reassigned the case," he announces with calm arrogance, "to another doctor. An unbiased perspective will clarify things, I'm sure."

Wilson's jaw tightens, and his hand flies to his forehead, a desperate gesture to cool his boiling anger. "Which doctor?" he demands, voice strained.

"That," Vogler states, his gaze locking onto Wilson's like a challenge, "is none of your concern."

Wilson's eyes narrow. "Dr. Song? Dr. Eurodyne?" he presses, disbelief rising with every syllable. "They don't know his history. You're so damn enamoured with House—"

Vogler cuts in with a mocking laugh, lifting the file. "Gentamicin-induced renal failure?" he reads, eyes glinting with a predatory look. "Now, where have I seen that before?" He flips a page slowly, allowing the moment to linger. "Oh, right. Gentamicin treatment approved by... Dr. Wilson. Hmm."

Wilson stutters, "Th-That was House's idea! You said—"

"That everything has to go through you?" Vogler stands, the smirk never wavering as he steps around the desk, closing in on Wilson. "Exactly." His voice oozing in smugness. "And yet, you let him administer it." He leans in, savouring Wilson's defeated silence. "And now, here we are."

Vogler finally steps back, gesturing dismissively with the file. "Dr. Dargis is in charge now. He had better ideas about this case long before you did."

A stunned pause before Wilson stifles a laugh, pieces falling into place. Goddamn you, House, you brilliant fool.

Vogler's eyes narrow. "Something funny, Dr. Wilson?"

Wilson forces a smile, but it's twisted, bitter. "A Head of Nephrology for a cardiac issue? Very nice."

Vogler's mouth curls further. "And you're the head of Oncology. A doctor is a doctor," he sneers. "I expect your resignation on my desk by the end of the week. Make it thoughtful." He steps back, voice icy, relishing the power.

Wilson swallows hard, adjusting his tie. "I..."

As his frustrations linger in the air, a new tension creeps up elsewhere.

"Sorry to disappoint you," House drawls without looking up from his computer monitor, "but I haven't even done the crime yet." He glances up, eyebrow raised. "Do you people actually have cameras everywhere?"

The officer standing in front of him—young, clean-cut, exuding impatience—raises an eyebrow. "Uh, no." He plants a hand on his belt. "I'm here for Doctors Chase and Foreman. Are they around?"

House spins in his chair, sighing theatrically. "Dealing with a patient, blood from the eyes." He feigns a shudder. "Real nasty case. Can I take a message?"

Right then, Chase and Foreman stride into the office, quickly stopping when they see the uniformed officer.

"What have you done?" Chase asks, shooting a wary look at House.

"Ah, Dr. Chase and Dr. Foreman," the cop turns. "Mind if we speak privately?"

House grins, leaning back. "I tried to throw him off, guys. Must be that irresistible Australian cologne." His gaze sharpens. "Or the cop's tracking Foreman. Racial profiling?"

The officer sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. "He can't be serious?" he asks, more to himself than anyone.

"Much to our dismay." Foreman deadpans, side-eyeing House. "Come on." He gestures, leading the officer into an adjoining room and closing the blinds with a snap.

They sit across a sterile meeting table. The officer leans back, gaze flicking between Chase and Foreman, tension thickening like a fog. "I'm Officer Johnny, we got a report of a gunshot down River Way. Witness reports seeing a car matching the description of yours."

Chase goes stiff, hands fidgeting under the table. "Serious charges," the officer continues, voice casual but eyes sharp. "Could be a coincidence, just need to ask a few questions." Aware of the tension in the air, the officer looks around as he leans back in his chair. "You guys got a coffee machine around here? Been a long day."

"Tell me about it." Foreman smirks, getting up from his chair and walking over to the kitchenette. "We ran out of creamer. That good with you?"

"'Course man." he smiles, turning back to Chase as Foreman walks to the kitchenette, grabbing a coffee mug. Chase sits trying to act casual, though his face is tense. The officer leans forward, flashing a grin. "Australia, huh?"

"That one of the questions?" Chase asks, snideness narrowly hidden under the guise of humour.

The cop laughs, adjusting his badge. "Both you and your boss, huh?"

"For better or worse," Foreman says, setting the steaming mug in front of the officer and retaking his seat.

"Appreciate it." He says, quickly taking a sip before nudging it aside. "Okay," the officer starts, eyeing his hastily-written notes "where were you both on December 16th?"

"Here," Foreman replies instantly, gesturing to the whiteboard behind him scrawled with medical notes. "Had a case. Rough one."

The cop's eyes dart to the board. "Tell me a bit about it."

"Patient came in with what we thought was pneumonia. Took a nosedive. Still critical after tachy—uh, basically a heart attack." Chase repeats.

"Dr. Chase was out running labs with Dr. Cameron all day." Foreman adds.

"This guy—What's his name?" The cop's gaze sharpens.

Chase is about to answer when Foreman steps in. "Mr. Anderson, I think. Initial appointment was under his name."

"You think?" The officer's eyebrow arches, and he leans in, interest piqued.

"He's been largely incapacitated whilst here, so we haven't spoken. We were only on the case as a favour to our boss's... colleague." Foreman gestures through glass to House, who is sat not-so-sneakily peering over his catalogue at the three of them.

"I see." the officer nods curtly as he takes another drink, glancing at House over his mug. "Where's this colleague?"

"Dr. Wilson— He's a very busy man. Head of oncology—cancer related stuff—it might take a minute to track him down." Chase informs, "He oversees a lot of the cancer cases from the surrounding towns."

The officer nods, pushing to his feet. "Thanks for your time, doctors. I'll try to catch Dr. Cameron and Dr. Wilson on my way out."

Foreman stands quickly, opening the door for the officer. As the officer strides away, Foreman's face flashes with worry.

Behind him, Chase murmurs, "So... are we screwed?"