House was slowly repairing himself for the two weeks he had to stay left at PPTH. por the segundo to last week, they had seen some improvement. His bones were still broken and the fractures were slowly mending, but the cuts had become scabs and eventually scars, and the bruises lightened. The concussion however--was their main problem at the moment.
The longitudinal fracture along the temporal bone that he had received only a ano atrás had reopened, with an added on of seven millimeters.
it had healed fairly well during the timespan of his coma, but there was still also a fair amount of damage left. The fracture has shortened and the skin was healing, but occasional bleeding from his ear canal occurred.
Within the last week of his stay before departing back to Mayfield, Wilson was convincing him to do the same thing he had asked of him at Mayfield---the hallucinations.
Besides his fracture, this was another unresolved issue that kept mais so Wilson awake at night than House.

Sunday
"So you think that--irritating my delicate brain seeing how fragile it is, is the best way for me to be resting?" House asked with annoyance.
"It's been TWO months, and she still doesn't know."
"So--you've stated that, time does go on and that she's ignorant? I think those were a given, yes?"
"We've concluded that she's been obscured from the truth for far too long, and that you are too proud to confront your feelings for her. You spent the first night wallowing in your self pity, instead of calling her up and explained what the hell was going on with you."
"I'm sorry, but my arrival wasn't as pleasant as I had hoped. You know, seeing as my arrival was at an asylum."
"Right." he agreed skeptically.
"Why couldn't you pull out the chops to tell her? You're all about stuff like this."
"Maybe," he started as he walked backwards towards the doors. "I figured that this was one of those few things you had to you know, actually deal with yourself." and he exited the room, allowing him to be alone with his thoughts.

Wednesday
Asleep on his bed, House looked as peaceful as a child, but without the occasional stirring. Bandaged was a new look for him. The cuts along his face and hands, were a new look for him. Being the patient, was familiar.
Cuddy had returned to his bedside once again, loyalty striking her once more. A cruel curse that had taken over her long ago, through her own guilt, but no fault of her own.
Sitting helplessly devoted, she watched him sleep. Every now and again, stroking his head, tracing her finger tip along his cuts and over his bruises. She would constantly sweep his hair to the side, giving her something to do. Cameron then appeared in the window, walking with a nurse. Excusing herself, the nurse walked away as Cameron entered the ICU.
"Thought your shift was over?" Cuddy asked in realization of her presence.
"Thought you quit this, but we've all got reasons, right?"
"Right. Go home."
"You can't leave, can you?" she asked with a smile.
"I can. I have."
"For mais than twenty-four hours?"
"Yes." Cuddy stated weakly.
"That's what I thought. You can't--" she had started. she let out a soft sigh and began again.
"Everything he's done, everything he's said--"
"I know where this is going. I just have respect for him, because he respects me--"
"That's not respect. It's unconditional amor and loyalty you have towards him. It's this--inhuman kind of loyalty and compassion. He's insulted you--in ways that left you almost broken and in tears. Other times you were in tears. You come back again the seguinte day, and act like--nothing happened. You don't even expect an apology. Not that he could. He would to you, but even then."
"Respect, Cameron. That's all we are."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"Until later yes. Confessions are done with a one and one. Right?" Cuddy asked, widening her eyes, glancing towards the bed.
"That's an actual valid excuse. But don't think you're getting off that easy." Cuddy gave an awkward nod as Cameron walked out. Cuddy sighed and turned back to him, and continued what she had been doing moments earlier.

Friday
After a pep talk for both sides, Cuddy refused to confront House. He was the same. After merely hours of lecture from Cameron and Wilson, they both still refused to talk to each other on the particular matter. Cuddy refused to confront her own feelings, while House refused to fess up the hallucinations. Since nothing had been mentioned in her constant visits, they only discussed his current health and the team. But tired of waiting for someone to make a move, Wilson stepped in for team House and Cameron for team Cuddy. On their own time, they pulled the opposing team aside for a face to face confrontation. The current team in possesion: Team Cuddy.
In the act of changing his bandages, Cameron had switched places with the nurse prepared to and went into the ICU. Seeing her arrival, he rolled his eyes and she laughed as she made her way towards his cama where everything had already been set up.
"Enjoying yourself?" Cameron asked sarcastically. She began to slowly help him upright, but he slapped her hand away instead. After he got up, she lifted his camisa and began removing the bandages. He gave occasional winces as she removed them.

"Where's Cuddy." he awkwardly asked.
"Talking to Yvensteir about discharging you."
"Why her, why not Wilson?"
"Why not her?"
"She's concerned which is stupid. Which makes her stupidity my suspicion."
"You were concerned where she was, are you stupid too?"
"I wasn't concerned, I was curious of her concern. She's been one changing these all week. Now you. I'm curious." rolling back down his undershirt, she then pulled back the blankets to check his legs. She examined his legs as they talked on.

"Why would she voluntarily go, and talked to Yvensteir--" he stopped. Waiting before continuing.
"You said Yvensteir?"
"Yeah." she covered his legs again, finished and just looked at him.
"What's the big deal, he's been your doctor since you were admitted at Mayfield."
"Jakob, Yvensteir."
"What?"
"Reality is blind--dreams are clairvoyant." he said hoarsely.

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