FicWad

The L.A Patient The L.A. Patient Author: Flurblewig
Pairing: Ats/House Crossover Ensemble
Rating/Warnings: PG13
Timeline/Spoilers: AtS: S5,somewhere between Smile Time and A Hole In The World. House: S1, somewhere between Control and Mob Rules
Disclaimer: They're not mine. I just like to take them out and play with them sometimes.



The guy behind the coffee-shop counter looks up and smiles brightly as she walks in. "Hi! How are you today?"

Nina sighs and pulls some crumpled bills out of her jeans pocket. "To tell you the truth -" she pauses, and peers at his namebadge - "Joe, not good. You know what it's like when you meet someone really nice at a workshop and you go out for drinks and really, like bond? And they say 'Hey, if you're ever in New Jersey, you just have to come and stay with me'? And so when you have a big fight with your boyfriend over the amount of time he spends with his boyfriend - and yeah, they can deny it all they want, I'm not blind - you do the storming off thing and you decide you really need to get the hell out of L.A. And considering the only person you know who lives further away is an octogenarian great aunt in Wales that you haven't spoken to in twenty years, you think, 'great idea, I'll go and stay with Miranda in Princeton.'"

Joe blinks.

"And then, of course, Miranda turns out to be an alcoholic lush who can't even remember who you are but doesn't care because loads of people stay on her couch - and bring their fleas, by the looks of it - and it's fine, and don't mind the dog, he's friendly really, and can you possibly lend her twenty bucks for the rent? And you do, because you're an idiot, although you just know it's going on a few bottles of cheap vodka. And then you say you're going sightseeing, even though it's way too late, because you've made yourself paranoid about fleas and if you have to sit on that couch a minute longer you're going to scratch off one too many layers of skin for anything short of cosmetic surgery to fix. And you can't afford cosmetic surgery unless you go back to your very rich but very asshole-ish boyfriend. So you come out, and you wander aimlessly, until finally you think 'well, one thing I can afford is a coffee.' You know what that's like, Joe? No? Well, that's how I am today. And don't look at me like that. You did ask."

Joe's eyes have become large and more than a little wary, but his smile stays valiantly on. "You want coffee?"

Nina sighs. "Yes, please."

She takes her grande skinny whatever-it-is over to a table, getting bumped into by a tall, thin guy on the way. The coffee spills, and she looks up with an indignant "Hey, watch where you're going." Tall and thin looks at her, dazed. "Yes, Master," he says, and wanders out. Nina watches him go, her eyebrows raised. Well, they certainly seemed to have a politer class of vagrant up here, she had to give them that.

Her nose is twitching; there's an odd smell under the normal coffee-shop top notes. Something unpleasant and vaguely sulphurous. She looks around, and sees that while there are only a couple of other patrons in the shop, they all seem to have the same vacant, nobody-home look. She sniffs, and there's definitely something not right here. As she brings her cup closer to her face, she gets a stronger whiff. It smells half organic and half chemical, and all bad.

Son of a bitch! The coffee's drugged, or poisoned, or something. She marches back up to Joe, and demands to see the manager.

His eyes get even bigger. "You don't want to do that."

"Oh yes I do," she says, slamming the untouched cup down on the counter.

Joe just shakes his head mutely. Nina whirls round and shakes the shoulder of the girl sitting nearest her. "Hey! You! Wake up, and get out of here. Put the cup down -" she reaches out and pulls it out of unresisting hands - "and go home. You hear me? Go home."

"Yes Master," says the girl in a toneless voice, and gets up. The same routine nets her the same results with the old man and the guy in the crumpled business suit. When they've shambled out the door, she turns back to Joe. "Now," she says, "are you going to get -"

She breaks off as the door opens again and a figure comes through. And keeps coming. She takes a step backwards as the gigantic shape seems to spill through the opening and fill the entire front of the shop. It's dark green and shaggily furry, and seems to spend at least five minutes unfolding its various arms and appendages.

She sneaks a look back at Joe. "Right. I guess this will be the manager, then."

He gives her a tiny, apologetic shrug.

"Great," she says, and turns back to the beast in front of her. "Hey. Bit of a misunderstanding here, I think. Everything's sorted out now though, so why don't I just get out of your way and leave you to, uh, cash up or whatever. Okay?"

The creature takes a step forward. She doesn't understand the growling bark it makes, but she somehow doubts that it means 'okay.'

"Shit," she says.

*


"Interesting case for us to play with today, kiddies," says House. "A Jane Doe, found naked and unconscious and covered in bite marks."

Foreman shrugs. "So an over-enthusiastic customer got carried away. Sucks to be her and I hope the cops nail him, but why's it with us?"

House reaches for the whiteboard. "They weren't human bite marks."

Chase leans forward slightly. "An animal attack? Are they dog bites?"

"Not unless it was the size of a yeti. The bite radius on these babies doesn't match anything in anybody's database so far." He writes 'unknown bite' on the board, and then turns back to them. "She also has a fever of a hundred and six, her white blood cell count is seriously down and there are respiratory problems."

Cameron purses her lips. "Maybe that could - "

"Oh," says House, giving them a beatific smile. "And did I mention she's turning green?"

There's a moment of silence. "Green," says Chase.

"Green. Yes."

"Her skin?"

"Skin, hair, nails. Corneas, too. Give me ideas."

Chase shakes his head. "She's got Incredible Hulk Disease. She overdosed on spinach. She's an alien." Off House's look, he throws up his hands. "What? Come on, you can't be serious about this."

House puts the pen down and walks to the door. He turns back to Chase and crooks his finger. "Come with me. Then tell me how you think I'm joking."

Chase looks at Foreman and Cameron, who both shrug. They file out of the office behind House, and follow him to the patient's bedside.

"Okay," says Chase eventually. "You were serious."

They all stare at the girl in the bed. She's restless, limbs shifting ceaselessly under the covers. Her mouth is open slightly and they can hear the breath whistling softly in her throat. Her skin is slick with sweat and is very definitely tinged with green.

"Some kind of poison?" Cameron starts to say, when the girl's eyes fly open. She utters a little shriek and her hands fly up to her face in a defensive motion, then seems to become aware of her surroundings and she flops back onto the pillow.

"Wha -" she says. "Wha -"

Chase steps forward and takes her wrist. "It's okay, you're okay, you're in hospital. You're safe now." Her pulse is weak and her skin hot and clammy to the touch. He can't help rubbing his fingers along it, but the colour doesn't come off.

"Demon!" she yells, and they all jump. Even House.

"Demon," she says again, although with a lot less force. She looks totally exhausted, and the whistling sound is becoming more like a wheeze. "In the - in the coffee place, it - oh God, it bit me. I'm - I'm infected. Demon venom. I need - there must be an antidote. I need - need- " Her voice is fading as her head falls back. "Angel," she finishes, and her eyes close.

"Told you it was a good one," says House. "Demons and angels, indeed. So - we add 'delusions' to the list of symptoms. Come on - differential diagnosis, people."

Cameron looks at Chase, who looks at Foreman. Then they all look at House.

Who rolls his eyes. "Do I have to do everything round here? Where are your imaginations? Okay, get some tests going - you know what to do."

"And what are you going to do?" asks Foreman.

House grins at him. "Start looking up exorcists. Just in case."

*


Chase prefers the hospital at night. It's quieter, more serene - less like a marketplace and more like a place of healing.

And he obviously hasn't had enough coffee if he's starting to get that poetic.

He pours himself another cup and goes back to their strange Jane Doe. She's calmer, but that seems to be due more to pure exhaustion than anything positive. He reaches out and smoothes away a tendril of hair from her forehead.

"You're going to be all right, Jane," he says. "You're sick, sure, but we're going to fix it. And you're hanging in there like a good girl. You're going to make it. You've got the constitution of an ox."

She makes a noise, and he leans forward. Did she just say something?

"Wolf," she says again, and this time there's no mistaking it. She turns her head slowly and opens her eyes, and he has to fight not to take a step backward. They're a bright, brilliant green - almost luminescent.

He swallows. "What?"

She gives him a weak smile. "Constitution of a wolf. And it's not Jane. It's Nina."

Chase returns the smile a little warily. Okay, that's... semi-lucid, at least. It's progress.

"Nina," he says. "Well, hey there. I'm Dr Chase. How are you feeling?"

"Like I'm being turned inside out," she says softly. "Which is not such an unfamiliar feeling as you might imagine. But- " She stops, and those unearthly eyes suddenly widen. "Shit. How long have I been here? What's the date?"

"The fifth," Chase says. "Look, Nina, I -"

She puffs out a long breath that turns into a coughing fit. When it's over, she passes a shaky hand across her face. "Fuck. /Fuck/." She reaches out and grabs Chase's hand, in a surprisingly strong grip. "Dr Chase, I need you to help me."

"That's what we're here for, Nina. We - "

She cuts him off, shaking her head. "No. Not like that. You can't fix this with drugs or surgery."

Chase frowns at her. Is this heading back to demon infections again? "What do you want me to do?" he asks calmly.

"Trust me," she says. "I need you to get restraints available. And I don't mean those little leather strap things. That's not going to be enough. I need chains."

"Chains," repeats Chase.

"Look, I know how this sounds. But like I said, if you're going to help me, you have to trust me. Get me some chains. And I need you to call someone."

"Sure, sure. I can do that. Who do you -"

"Wolfram and Hart," she says. "In L.A."

The name rings a vague bell somewhere. "A law firm? You want me to call you a lawyer?"

"No. Well, yes - they're a law firm, but I want you to call a guy named Angel. Tell him where I am - Nina Ash, my name is Nina Ash - and that I'm sick. Tell him it was a Mannika demon. He'll know what to do."

Chase sighs. "Nina - "

He only realises that she's still holding his hand when she squeezes it. Hard. He bites back on the undignified yelp that rises in his throat.

"I know what you must be thinking," she says. "I've been there. But I'm sick and I'm frightened and I don't have a lot of time so this is going to be the very short version. Dr Chase, monsters exist. All the stuff you were told wasn't real, is. Demons and vampires, and witches and werewolves. Especially werewolves."

"Werewolves."

"Yes. Right now, you're holding hands with one. I asked you the date because I need to know how long it is until the full moon. I don't have to tell you what happens to a werewolf at the full moon, do I?"

Chase shakes his head, mentally running through a list of anti-psychotics and calculating their effect on her existing medication.

"Tomorrow night," she goes on. "I will change. And if I get loose, I will kill people. Do you understand?"

"Sure. What I'll do is - ow!" This time, he can't keep from reacting.

"Do. You. Understand?" she says again, and her voice is different. Lower, deeper - and colder. And if her voice is hard, the look in her eyes is even more so. Despite himself, Chase shivers.

She keeps up the pressure on his hand until he swears he can feel the bones grind together, and bares her teeth at him. It's not a smile in any sense of the word, and he draws in a breath. For a second there -

For a second, a very long second, he thought he'd seen fangs.

She lets him go suddenly, and slumps back like all the fight has gone& out of her. "Please," she says. "Please. Call Angel."

He backs away, his heart hammering in his chest, and goes straight to the office phone. He dials the first three digits of House's pager, then hesitates. Finally, he cuts the connection and redials. "Yeah, he says when it answers. "I need the number for Wolfram & Hart in Los Angeles."

TBC...