Torchhouse (part 3) [Torchwood/House MD ]
Title: Torchhouse (part 3) (Torchwood/House MD)
Word count: 1123
Characters: Jack, House, Owen, Wilson (with brief appearances by Ianto, Tosh, and Gwen).
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Spoilers: Nothing specific. It’s set outside the canon timeline for “House” and somewhere between episodes 4 and 9 of “Torchwood”.
Disclaimer: As with all fanfiction, this is not-for-profit, just for fun, and all the assorted other words that really mean nothing but look like an attempt.
Summary: It starts with a routine investigation by Torchwood and ends up as House’s patient of the week.
8:00 PM
A motel in Princeton New Jersey
Jack swept the room for bugs and found it clean of all three kinds. Nothing alien, nothing local, and (shockingly) no actual insects of any sort. He sat down on the bed and stretched out, crossing his legs at the ankles. Owen sat down in a particularly ugly yellow chair that looked like it had been reupholstered one too many times.
Despite the search, each man wore their headsets for increased security during their call. The blue status indicator on Jack’s pulsed lightly, indicating the call was dialing.
In Cardiff, a very sleepy sounding Tosh answered the phone. “Jack, I’m in the conference room. We’ve got you on speaker.”
“Great. Who all is there?”
“All of us,” Gwen said. “Jack, it’s one in the morning here. Rhys is livid. Couldn’t this have waited until a better hour?”
“Sorry, no. We might only have a little bit of time before the doctor in charge here does something drastic. Ianto!”
“Sir?”
“I’d like to thank you for these really great accommodations and the fact that I’ve got to share a room with Owen.”
“I was a bit limited in my selection, based on the short notice, Captain. I apologise if they’re not up to your usual standards.”
“There’s only one bed in here, you know.”
“No, sir, I was not aware.”
The tone of Ianto’s voice made it plain that he was very aware. The little giggle that escaped Tosh confirmed it.
“Here’s the situation,” Owen said. “The doctor in charge is a bastard named House. I spoke to one of House’s staff, and he said House hates leaving things unsolved. Any other doctor we could just take the cloaking device out of the guy and get out of here and they’d just assume he got better. This House guy is going to need something to actually treat.”
“Any ideas?” Jack asked. He could hear the sound of Tosh’s fingers on her keyboard.
Owen glanced up at the ceiling, reading the list he had formed in his head. “I’m thinking something that would affect his thyroid. It should have come up on one of the tests they conducted, but I don’t remember seeing a radioactive iodine uptake test listed. Just the bog standard ‘check for tumours and heart defects’ things. The blood work seemed to be mostly focused on drugs and heavy metal poisoning.”
“And since our little device isn’t from Earth, it wouldn’t be picked up by an MRI or a tox screen,” Tosh added. “Graves’ disease can be triggered by stress. Since Nathan was a student in a foreign country, that could be a cause of stress. It doesn’t cause hallucinations, but the irregular heartbeat and insufficient oxygen to his brain might explain them away.”
“Great. So how do we give him Graves’ disease?” Jack folded his arms behind his head and closed his eyes.
“Wait a minute”! Gwen spoke up. “We can’t just give the boy a disease!”
Tosh responded. “We’re not going to give him Graves’ disease. We’re just going to make the doctors there think he has it.”
“But that’s worse! The treatment! Rhys’ aunt had a hyperactive thyroid and she had to go through radiation to fix it.”
“The treatment would probably just be something like methimazole, Gwen.” Owen sounded exasperated. He was tired and from the look of things, Jack was planning on hogging the bed. “Keep him on it for a bit, re-evaluate him later, call him in remission. They’d retest him for the rest of his life, but he’d be fine. We just need to tweak his thyroid for about a year.”
“Owen,” Tosh said over the sound of her keyboard clicking away, “you have your full kit with you, yeah? Call me directly and we’ll go through the process of putting something together that you should be able to slip him.”
“You guys did great. Ianto, Gwen, go home. All three of you take tomorrow off.” Jack terminated the call and slipped his headseat into his pocket. “See if you can mix a little of the amnesia drug into the thyroid booster.” He stood and took his coat off the hook by the door. “I’m going to take a walk. Get a little air.”
“Stay off the rooftop. Someone’ll see you and call the cops. That’s all we need.”
8:00 PM
House’s apartment, Princeton, New JerseyHouse sat on the sofa, his feet on the coffee table, crossed at the ankles. His left hand twisted his cane, telegraphing his irritation.
Not that Wilson would have needed the cane to indicate how House was feeling. His voice was doing the job quite nicely and had been doing so since Wilson had arrived.
Wilson opened two beers and handed one to House. “So let me get this straight. You don’t trust them because they came over from Wales to check on a student.”
“Right. The head of the study came over? Doesn’t he have other students to babysit? What’s so special about this kid that they couldn’t just phone it in like every other physician that’s currently more than five miles away?”
“Maybe… he’s the son of someone important?”
“Mom teaches third grade. Dad manages one of those multifunction hardware stores.”
“Maybe they just do things differently in Wales. House, just because you wouldn’t… walk across the street to see a patient, doesn’t mean everyone is like that.”
House took a long pull on his beer. “Doctor Owen Harper is like that. I looked him up. He was given the opportunity to resign from his position with a hospital because of inappropriate behaviour with a patient.” House raised an eyebrow and smirked. Wilson narrowed his eyes and opted not to say anything at all on that topic.
“And? He resigned and started working for the school.”
“He’s not on their website. Neither of them are.”
“Maybe they’re new. I don’t know! House, you are reading way too much into this. The kid was a history student, right? He says he came home because he was afraid of some girl’s husband. Maybe… she gave him something to bring back.”
“Like the disease that’s killing him.”
“You’re such a romantic. I mean like an antique or a historical artifact. Maybe she had him smuggle something into the US and they’re here to get it back. Maybe Jack is like… special forces or something.”
House snorted. “And in your fantasies, does Action Man rescue you and carry you off to his fortress of solitude for a little superhero lovin’?”
“You’re an ass, House.”
House stood up and limped toward the door. “You can sit here with your dreams of Indiana Jones if you want, but I’m going to take a walk. Get some sane air.