A/N: Hey guys :) I know it's been forever, but I recently went back to watching some old episodes, so here's a little something from the House universe again (probably two or three chapters)… Setting is early Season 8, after the "prank-war" with the orthopedic next door. ;) Have fun!

Placing the cast saw into one of the cupboards and turning off the main light, Dr. Morgan was just about ready to leave. It had been an incredibly long day that had not exactly been made any easier by the frequent interruptions and subsequent prank-war with House. Though, to be fair, it had been a little bit funny, especially once the nausea had abated and the plastering of the older man's entire office had begun.

He had of course known that House wouldn't be happy with him having occupied most of his former office space to expand the treatment rooms of the orthopedics department, but then again: Most of the staff thought that he was lucky to have been employed again at all after his stint in prison, no matter how cramped his work environment now might be. He himself was pretty sure that the hospital profited at least as much from House's return as the man himself – he hadn't been blind to the increased number of lost cases over the last eight or so months…

Then again, the man was an ass, that much was clear. None of the stories he had heard about him seemed even the least exaggerated. It was probably only a matter of time until this whole thing between them would blow up completely, and he just hoped that no jobs would be lost in the process… That his job wouldn't be lost in the process!

Still recalling the events of the day, he once again glanced back towards the other man's office, where light was still dimly emenating from probably the desk lamp. He hadn't heard anything from the man himself for a couple of hours at least, but that didn't mean anything. He had already noticed that House usually worked late, even after his team had long left the place. Might have something to do with the fact that he didn't really have anywhere else to go at the moment, if there was any truth to the rumors of the ankle bracelet he had heard the nurses giggling about…

Grimacing slightly at the idea, he had already pulled his keys out to lock up the room, when he suddenly heard a dull thumping sound from behind the glass door. Abruptly interrupting his actions, he hesitated, waiting to hear something more, cursing maybe or sounds of pain, but the room was completely quiet again now. Still, doctorly care was hard to break it seemed.

"House?" He finally called out, already rolling his eyes at himself. The man certainly hadn't done anything to warrant his concern. "Everything okay over there?"

When no reply was coming, he reluctantly entered his office again. "House…?" He now approached the door separating their treatment room from House's office, knocking once, trying to see through the glass into the semi-darkness.

"Yes." Finally a gruff reply, though the other's voice sounded a little strained. But that was okay; a sign of life at least. And a chance for him to still make it home before midnight…

"Everything okay?" A rhetorical question really; he had already half-turned around again to finally leave this place.

"Yes!" Okay, now that sounded angry. "Now leave me the fuck alone."

Something made the orthopedist hesitate. As gruff as House per se seemed to be even on his good days, he sounded really off right now. Pissed; pained.

Decision made, he turned towards the glass-door again giving it another light knock. Without waiting for permission, he then just pushed it open. – If this was another goddamn prank, he'd simply kill the man…

What he found didn't seem like much of a prank though.

House was right now kneeling on the floor, one hand on an office-chair opposite his desk, one hand on the surface of the desk itself, obviously trying to gain enough leverage to push/pull himself up again. He had the foot of his good leg on the ground, but right now still seemed in the 'preparation phase' of the movement, bracing himself for more pain perhaps… At least, right now, he wasn't moving. – Morgan's frown deepened.

"What happened…?" He quickly entered the room now, approaching the other man a little cautiously. House seemed very pale and was sweating profusely.

"Nothing." Was the almost expected answer, anger still clouding his tone. "Now get out. I don't need an audience for this…"

Morgan simply ignored the gruff order, fully focused on the other man now. "Did you fall?" He looked around briefly, trying to spot the cane.

To his surprise, House finally managed an at least semi-truthful answer in the form of a reluctant nod. "Leg folded when I got up and tried to take a step," he admitted quietly, briefly eyeing his recliner, where he had probably been resting before. He never met Morgan's by now openly concerned gaze.

"Okay." The orthopedist decided to take charge now. "Let's try to move you over there again. – No weight on the leg for now," he warned before simply pulling House's right arm off the chair and around his own shoulders. Once he had a good grip on him, he slowly stood up again while pulling the other man with him.

He heard House inhale sharply as soon as his leg straightened at the movement, but other than that he made no sound. When he then paled some more, Morgan quickly supported him the half-step towards the recliner before gently guiding him to sit down.

To his surprise, House immediately sank back against the back rest, his eyes losing some of their focus. Morgan gently but firmly shook his right shoulder. "Stay with me, House! No slacking off now…"

That seemed to rouse the other man somewhat again, who at least moved his good leg onto the ottoman now, without – however – any attempt to bring the right one up as well.

Morgan laid a careful hand around the ankle. "I'm lifting the leg, okay?"

He waited for House to confirm with a minute nod.

Slowly moving the leg onto the foot rest, he tried to ignore the tightly controlled sounds of pain the action elicited from the other man.

Not hesitating any more now, he next unlaced the shoe on the right side, gapping it, before carefully sliding it off the obviously swollen foot. House moaned openly at that.

"Did you hurt the foot or ankle?" He had already started to gently feel for the different bones after carefully sliding the ankle bracelet a little bit further up the leg.

House simply shook his head, flinching when the orthopedist pressed a little more firmly to check the foot pulses first at the ankle, then at the instep.

After that, his hands started travelling up the leg, next stopping at the knee. "Anything hurt here?" He was already gently probing the joint.

House had closed his eyes tightly by now, still tense, still sweating. "Whole damn thing hurts right now," he finally ground out, pressing the words through literally gritted teeth.

That's when Morgan remembered the nerve damage that was most probably contributing to House's chronic pain problem. – He carefully removed his hands again, before simply standing up to leave the room.

When he caught the almost panicked look House threw him at that, he briefly wondered just how big of an ass House thought he was. Calmly returning the other man's unusually anxious gaze, he simply explained: "I'm going to get you something for the pain."

When he returned a minute later, he calmly started to prepare a syringe. "How much have you had today and what?"

House once again averted his gaze, but replied immediately: "Hydrocodone; 60 mg."

The orthopedist didn't so much as blink at the information, clearly unsurprised. "I'm giving you a shot of morphine. – Have you ever had trouble tolerating it?"

Just a small shake of the head.

"Okay, good. Just hang tight; you'll be feeling better in a moment…"

Quickly locating a good vein, he was just about to start pushing the drug, when House suddenly pulled away slightly, eyeing the syringe a hesitant, but otherwise unreadable look on his face. Frowning slightly at the unexpected reaction, Morgan finally understood. – Apparently, trust didn't come easily to the other man…

Wordlessly holding the small bottle of Morphine in front of House's face, he allowed the older man to study the label. When House finally just closed his eyes again turning his head away slightly, he took that as permission to continue.

Carefully starting to push the drug, Morgan decided not to comment on the awkward situation instead explaining quietly: "It's not enough to knock you out, just enough to get the pain under control for now." Then, briefly glancing up at his 'patient' again: "You still with me, House? You look shocky. Just breathe, okay?"

The other man nodded minutely at that, but his breathing remained shallow.

Putting the syringe away, the orthopedist studied him with another small frown. Then his eyes went to the back part of the recliner. "Does this go back any farther? I would like for you to lie down some more, House."

The other man weakly nodded again, hand fumbling for a small lever at the side of the chair. Morgan made him recline as far as the chair went back, then sat back slightly, unobtrusively monitoring House's respirations.

After a few minutes, the medicine finally seemed to do its magic, House's features starting to relax a bit, some color at last returning to his face.

"Bet you're having a field-day with this…"

Morgan abruptly looked up at the bitter words, searching the other man's face for any traces of sarcasm. – To his shock, he couldn't find any.

He focused on keeping his voice calm, impassive.

"Sure. Love seeing people hurting… That's why I became an orthopedic surgeon."

The quick comeback made one corner of House's mouth twitch slightly, but he didn't say anything else.

Morgan took this chance of keeping control of the situation. "I'd like to take a look at the leg, House."

This time, there was an immediate reaction.

"No."

Morgan rolled his eyes at the categorical decline.

"Listen, man. I'm not just leaving you here with pain like that, without at least making sure that you didn't do any more serious damage."

House once again glanced away at that, his voice quiet now. "I fell; it happens. The leg didn't like it. End of story." When the orthopedist didn't immediately reply anything, he apparently decided to clarify again: "I'm not hurt."

Morgan eyed him for a long moment, finally deciding that there was probably no winning this argument right now. "Okay," he finally conceded reluctantly. "But I'm gonna get you a pair of crutches; I don't see you walking on this leg any time soon…"

He brought the walking aids back a minute later, once again eyeing the other man critically. "Are you gonna make it home okay? I could give you a ride if you want…"

House immediately shook his head, very briefly meeting the younger man's gaze. "Nope. I'm good."

Nodding shortly, Morgan turned to leave the room.

"But thanks…"

He smiled slightly at the quiet words but didn't turn around again. Simply nodding his head again, he finally went to go home.

tbc…