I don't know if anyone still remembers this story, but I finished it! So I'm posting it in case anyone wanted to read the end and also so that I can get it off my to-do list.
I'm not sure I can summarize what's happened up to this point, but I will helpfully provide links to the first 5 parts. If you choose to start from here, consider this your spoiler warning.
As always, huge thanks to my beta IolantheAlias, who has made this story much more plausible and accurate and readable. She's also stuck with me through the ridiculous length of time it's taken me to finish this!
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6:
“Hey, welcome to the party!” The voice and attitude that greeted Dr. Cameron, Lois, and Clark as they swept through the sliding glass door to Adam's room could only belong to one man.
“What happened?” Lois demanded before Cameron could speak.
House met Lois's determined eyes with an even gaze. In a surprisingly and significantly not sarcastic voice he answered, “Adam's fallen into a coma. We're working on rousing him, but the window is closing on his chances.” Abruptly, he left the room.
Lois and Clark watched silently as Dr. Cameron joined Dr. Chase and Dr. Foreman in checking Adam's vitals and monitors and whatever else they were doing that looked like puttering to Lois. After a few minutes, Chase and Foreman left the room. Dr. Cameron followed, but she stopped before exiting.
“We're doing our best,” she assured Lois and Clark quietly.
Clark nodded slightly, and Cameron left.
Lois, deep in thought, appeared to not even hear Dr. Cameron. As soon as she departed, though, Lois started pacing. Knowing there was nothing to do but await the brainstorm about to break forth, Clark sat in one of the visitors' chairs and idly counted the laps made by his fiancee.
On lap twelve, Lois turned on her heel to face Clark. “The best lie is one based on the truth, right?”
“Yes,” Clark elongated the word, warily.
“So let's tell him enough of the truth that he'll stop sniffing around and be able to help Adam.”
Clark considered this, then wondered aloud, “What are you planning on telling him? Do you think he'll believe us?”
A downright mischievous gleam entered Lois's eye. “Oh, he'll believe us. I'm going to tell him everything he wants to know but leave you completely out of this.”
Clark sighed dramatically. “I always know trouble is around the corner when you get that look.”
Lois grabbed Clark's hand and pulled him up from the chair. “All you have to do is play along. You're going to need to pretend that I'm actually mad at you.”
As they slid open the glass door, Lois briefly looked back at Adam, quiet and still in the hospital bed. She made him a silent promise that they were going to get him out of there.
*****
Lois strode up to the nurses' station, crossed her arms and waited with barely constrained energy for the nurse to acknowledge her presence.
“Can I help you?”
“I need to see Dr. House,” Lois stated.
The nurse cast a look at Clark trailing a step behind Lois.
“I'm Lois Lane, and I have information about his patient Adam.”
Without comment, the nurse picked up the handset of the phone and dialed. She spoke briefly into the phone, then hung up. “Dr. House will be here in a moment. Is there anything else I can help you with?”
“No, thank you,” Lois replied. She walked back to Adam's room, standing outside of it to await Dr. House, with Clark still a step behind her. Sticking to the plan, she did not dare look at him as they waited.
Before long, Dr. House hobbled around the corner. “Ah, the redoubtable Ms. Lane,” he greeted her. “To what do I owe the honor of your summons?”
*****
Lois led them into Adam's room to ensure a private conversation. “I know you know we haven't been telling you everything,” she began.
House eyed her with interest. “Go on.”
“What I'm about to tell you is highly sensitive information, some of which I had been kept in the dark about until recently,” she said, with a pointed stare at Clark.
Clark looked appropriately chagrined.
“We had hoped Adam's illness could be diagnosed without revealing certain facts, but that doesn't seem to be the case.” Lois's gaze lingered in the general vicinity of Adam's hospital bed.
Sensing a revelation, House kept his tongue.
Lois inhaled deeply and shifted her focus to House. “Adam is a clone of Superman. We met him just over two years ago, when his creator had indoctrinated him to destroy Superman and take over Metropolis. Things finally came to a showdown, and Superman beat him. By that time, Adam's cloned body was beginning to break down. He destroyed the samples he was made from, then he asked Superman to throw him into the sun.” After a short pause, Lois began again, more animated and agitated this time. “And I just found out that Clark knew that Superman didn't end up taking Adam to the sun. Instead, he left him in India and now here we are,” she finished, in a huff.
Falling silent, Lois watched as House digested the information.
“So let me get this straight,” House began. “These two...” he paused, searching for the right term, “*misogynists* planned out this whole scheme and then didn't even bother to tell you about it?”
Lois was clearly torn between her disinclination to encourage the pompous doctor and her inclination to give Clark a classic Lois Lane dressing down. She opted to let her frustration simmer a little longer. “No,” she replied shortly, “I was not included in the plans that Superman *or* Clark made.” She punctuated the sentence with a pointed glare at Clark.
“But,” Clark began in weak protest, knowing her anger was completely justified, “it wasn't exactly a plan we cooked up without you.” As Lois's glare showed no signs of abating, he attempted further explanation. “Superman told me that he just couldn't go through with it at the last minute. But he was convinced that Adam was about to die, so he took Adam to a family he had met in India and asked them to make him comfortable and provide him a traditional Hindu cremation.” Clark's eyes pleaded with Lois to understand, sending the message he could not verbalize.
House, watching the byplay with fascination, took the opportunity to insert himself in the conversation again. “And Superman told you and not Lois because...?”
Seeing the signs of Clark fumbling for answers, Lois explained dismissively, “That's just how they are. Yeah, he may fly, but Superman still acts like a typical male. I'm sure it just slipped both of their minds to even tell me.” She abruptly and decisively changed the subject. “So what are Adam's options now?”
House studied Lois intently, clearly disbelieving her dismissive attitude, particularly in combination with Clark's uneasy sigh of relief. But Lois was determined not to give Dr. House any more clues than he could gather on his own, and he eventually answered her question.
“Unbelievably, I've never actually had any cases where my patient was a clone, much less a clone of Superman,” House raised one eyebrow and tipped his head to the side in a “go figure” gesture. Thoughtfully, he added, “But I think we're dealing with two separate issues here.” Without warning, House departed at a near run.
Taken aback, Lois called out after him, “Wait a minute! What does that mean?”
Clark reached out and put a hand on Lois's arm. “Hold on, honey. Let's see what he comes up with.”
Lois resignedly sat in the nearest chair. “You know patience is not my thing,” she grumbled.
Chuckling, Clark seated himself next to her. Putting an arm around her, he kissed the side of her head. “I know, but you were brilliant. You even had me going for a while.”
Lois rested her head on Clark's shoulder. She smiled as she recalled the look on Clark's face when House called him a misogynist. “I was good, wasn't I?”
“As usual,” Clark laughed.
*****
“Throw out the heart attack.” House ordered as he bounded into the conference room.
As one, the three seated doctors whirled around to face him.
“What?” Chase demanded clarification.
“It's a red herring.” House stated the obvious, at least to him.
“Since when is a heart attack not a significant event?” Foreman retorted.
“Since it has to do with the secondary issue. The primary issue,” he went on despite the skeptical looks of his staff, “is whatever is scrambling his brain.”
At the blank looks trained on him, House persisted. “Foreman, if the symptoms presented to you were expressive aphasia, retinal whitening, muscle convulsions, and fainting in an otherwise healthy young man with no history of trauma and no evidence of drug use, what would be your gut reaction?”
“Infection in the brain,” Foreman answered immediately.
“Exactly,” House replied. “What were the results of the tests you ran for third world diseases?”
“About to go find out,” Foreman replied tersely as he rose and gathered his notes.
“Chase, when you ran the drug tests, did you store the samples when you were finished?” House inquired.
“Bagged, tagged, stored as usual. Why?” Chase prepared himself for the usual curve ball from House.
“Just curious,” House remarked offhandedly.
Chase blinked. “No, really. Why?”
“No reason,” insisted House, changing the subject rapidly. “You and Cameron go home. Foreman and I can handle this.” Leaning heavily on his cane, he hurried out of the room.
“What do you suppose that's all about?” Dr. Cameron mused.
“Who knows,” Dr. Chase shrugged. “But he has that look in his eyes. He's figured it out, but it's not likely we'll ever know the whole story. So I'm going home. See you later.”
*****
Dr. House cast a furtive glance down the hallway as he approached the door to the pharmacy storage room. Fishing in his pocket, he produced a small set of keys. He selected one and stealthily fit it into the lock. Quickly and quietly, he entered the room and closed the door behind him. Though the room was lit only with dim emergency lighting, House's steps were sure and direct. He stopped at a shelf and scanned the labels of the rows of vials and bottles. He pulled a penlight out of an inside pocket of his sport coat, and flashed it along the labels. He spied his prey and stuck the end of the penlight between his teeth. With a deft move, he grabbed one vial of liquid and stowed it inside his coat. Pulling an empty pill bottle out of the same pocket, he popped open the lid and set it and the bottle on the shelf. He selected a large bottle of pills previously adjacent to the liberated vial and expertly poured a number of pills from the large bottle into the smaller one. Mere seconds later, both bottles were recapped and properly replaced. House retraced his steps and carefully pulled the locked door of the storage room closed behind him.
House resumed his quick pace down the hallway toward the lab. Halfway there, he crossed paths with Dr. Foreman. As they passed each other, House tossed the vial of medicine at Foreman. Fumbling, Foreman managed to catch the vial. “Cerebral malaria,” Foreman reported.
“Quinine!” House called over his shoulder. He paused long enough to look behind him and nod at the vial Foreman held up.
Foreman looked down at the vial, then placed it in the pocket of his lab coat. As an afterthought, he asked, “Where are you going?”
“Bathroom!” House replied with a cheery wave and disappeared around the corner.
Foreman narrowed his eyes in skepticism as he watched House's retreating form. He patted the pocket containing the vial of quinine and set off toward Adam's room.
*****
to be continued...
