You want me to Date You?

Chapter Seventeen

Here's the next chapter for you guys! Along with another wonderful photo of mister Hugh Laurie himself. I hope that you love this chapter as much as I do! Happy reading!

Marcus was revived and was currently resting in his room. It had been a couple of hours since the incident and the room was free of cameras and House had decided to check in on his patient. As soon as House shut the door behind him, Marcus began to speak.

"Y-you can do any tests that you want."

House raised an eyebrow at him. "I still want to treat you for TB. Dr. Cameron has found low sugar in your cerebrospinal fluid. It's a classic finding of TB."

"Oh, so now you think that TB is the issue?" Marcus questioned.

House shook his head. "Nope." He walked up and checked over Marcus's monitors and vitals. "If TB caused cardiac arrest on a hot day, your work in Africa would be even more futile than it already is."

Marcus sighed. "What's your point House?"

House turned and grabbed the tiny cup of pills and put it on the tray in front of Marcus. "The white board in my office, we're up to about a dozen symptoms now. The cardiac arrest is clearly not TB. But the CSF sugar clearly is TB. The rest of the symptoms could go either way unless we know which ones are connected to the TB which means I currently can't diagnose you without treating it first."

Marcus stared at the little cup and took a few long deep breaths before he shook his head and looked back up at House. "I will do any other tests or treatments that you prescribe but this."

House sighed. "So, you aren't special but TB is?"

"People only die of TB because it's our choice to let them." Marcus countered.

"People die of malaria because we let them, they die of dysentery..." House countered back, only to be interrupted.

"TB is my disease."

House scoffed. "Oh really? So you own a disease now?" he asked incredulously.

Marcus closed his eyes and took a few breaths as he shook his head before he focused back on House, whom stood at the foot of his bed. "Look, I know I have a way about me. I know I piss a lot of people off. But you're the first person that I've ever met who I think is actually annoyed by what I do. Do you think I'm not saving any lives, or is that a bad thing?"

House took a step forward and braced his arms on the footboard of Marcus's bed. "Right now all I'm trying to do is save your life."

Marcus didn't seem to listen to House's words. "Or do you just have a problem with hope?" he continued, making House roll his eyes. "You know, the difference between our jobs is not numbers or style. It's that I know I'm going to fail. Even if I save a million people there's going to be another million to treat. You couldn't handle that and I think you resent anyone who can."

"Can't we just agree that you're incredibly annoying?" House growled and lets out a long breath as he looks into Marcus's eyes, not breaking eye contact, trying a last ditch effort to get to him. "Take the pills or I let you die, do an autopsy, call my own press conference, and make sure the world knows that you didn't die of TB. Your corporate sponsors will be disappointed, but they'll find another disease to sponsor."

Marcus's face went from calm to reluctant as he looked at the cup then back at the man that stood in front of him. "Why do you do that?"

House smirked. "Because I'm just a mean son of a bitch." He said sternly before he turned and walked out of the room, closing the sliding door behind him.