Chapter 1

The sunlight streamed into the not-so-bustling hospital lobby through the glass doors as they opened to admit the unshaven, middle-aged man in a rumpled T-shirt, faded jeans, and Nike sneakers who held a cane as he walked. The nurses in the lobby parted to make way for Dr. Gregory House, Head of the Department of Diagnostic Medicine, not out of any respect for the man (though they did harbor a grudging admiration for his brilliance), but rather out of a desire to stay out of the way of his sharp tongue and antisocial manners. But one woman, dark-haired, slender, and authoritative, strode up to him as the doors swung shut and handed him a single file.

"You've got a case", Dr. Lisa Cuddy, Dean of Medicine and Administrator of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, New Jersey, told House.

"That's it?" said House, not bothering to accept the file she held out to him. "No 'Good morning', no 'Thank you for curing the last patient with the mysterious neurological problem?'"

"Albinistic female, aged 19, suffered from a heart attack as she was being discharged", said Cuddy, ignoring House's question – which was rhetorical, anyway.

House grabbed the file from her hand in a fluid move and held it out of her reach. "I assume you don't mean this hospital, because if you did, then you would have come to me earlier."

"Not if our regular doctors could have found out what was wrong with her", Cuddy countered. "But you're right. She was referred to you by her last doctor, the one who discharged her."

House raised his eyebrows, pleased. "Wow. I'm getting famous already. Why do you say she's an albino?" he asked curiously.

Cuddy shrugged. "She's got pink eyes – go figure."

"And yet there's no mention of it in her medical file at all", said House, looking at said file. "It does, however, say that she was stabbed with a knife. How did that happen?"

"She was mugged."

"It also says that the knife pierced her lung."

"So?"

"So, that means the heart attack was caused by lack of oxygen to the heart because of the collapsed lung", House stated, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. "Also known in medical circles as Angina pectoris. Case solved." He tossed the file back to Cuddy and continued on his way, but Cuddy caught up to him easily and cornered him just outside the elevator.

"The heart attack occurred after she was discharged", said Cuddy, "Which means her doctors fixed the lung."

"So they didn't fix it right and it collapsed again. Or it's a lingering after-effect of the lack of oxygen right after she was mugged." House pressed the 'Up' button with his cane and sighed. "Are you going to leave me alone now?"

"The lung never collapsed and she was given an oxygen mask almost immediately." Cuddy's face assumed a superior look.

House rolled his eyes. "Come on. How immediate could almost immediately be? There had to be at least six or seven minutes before –"

"Three", was Cuddy's simple reply.

House blinked. "Was she mugged in the hospital?"

"Just outside it."

At this House's surprise turned to amazed disbelief. "That's stupid", he declared. "Who mugs somebody right outside a hospital? Dozens of people pass by there every minute."

Cuddy raised her arms helplessly, one hand still holding the file. "According to witness statements there was nobody close enough to help at the time."

"Right." The skepticism was obvious in his tone. "Either they're blind, or someone's lying. Who are the witnesses?"

Cuddy consulted the file. "Her boyfriend and three other friends. They also brought her in."

House looked even more skeptical than before. "So her boyfriend and friends all have muscular dystrophy which renders them unable to run a couple of blocks to help her. Interesting." He looked up as the elevator descended before walking in. Cuddy followed him.

"She was alone at the time; her boyfriend said she'd separated from them to do something. They were close enough to see what happened but too far away to help."

"Even more interesting", House said, his voice tinted with heavy sarcasm and a slight curiosity. He moved his cane to press the button for the floor he was headed for. Cuddy noticed the light interest and opened her mouth to argue some more, but House spared her the necessity.

"You said her friends brought her in. Where are her parents?"

Cuddy closed her mouth and then opened it again to reply. "She's an orphan. Her birth parents died when she was two."

"And the boyfriend and friends?"

"All from the same orphanage."

"Relatives?"

"She doesn't have any that are known."

House mulled this over for several seconds as the elevator moved upward. "They're all lying", he concluded. At Cuddy's raised eyebrows, he added, "Oh, come on. A boyfriend and three friends all claim that she was mugged right outside a hospital because there was nobody there at the time. That's a lame witness statement, probably one of the dumbest I've ever heard."

"Well, then how else do you explain how she was fed O2 three minutes after her lung was pierced?" asked Cuddy.

"Simple", said House. "Her friends are lying."

"Her medical records confirm it."

House looked at her, and then up at the ceiling as the elevator dinged and the doors slid open. "Fine", he said finally, holding out his hand. "Give me the file." Cuddy complied, and House snatched it out of her extended hand as he tramped out of the elevator.

"19-year-old female albino, stabbed in the lung with a knife during a mugging, given oxygen within three minutes of injury, but suffered a heart attack as she was being discharged." House put his marker down after writing "ALBINO" and "HEART ATTACK" on his whiteboard and pointed his cane at his team. "Go."

"Cardiovascular disease", said Taub immediately.

House stared at him disapprovingly. "Didn't you hear what I just said? She's nineteen. That wouldn't be enough time for her blood vessels to toughen up to the consistency of those of a fifty-year-old. Aside from which she has absolutely no history of heart disease. Read the file – it'll tell you the same thing. Strike one."

"How do you know she's an albino?" Foreman asked, studying their patient's file, which House had tossed to him.

"She's got pink eyes", stated House.

"You actually went to see a patient?" Thirteen asked, amazed.

"No, but Cuddy did", replied House. He eyed her critically. "Are we going to get back to the differential or are we going to stand around debating?"

"Cardiomyopathy caused by a systemic disease", Thirteen said. "Even three minutes of oxygen deprivation could cause the heart muscle to deteriorate, especially if her heart is fragile due to an underlying condition."

"She could also be suffering from arrhythmia or shock from the mugging", said Taub.

"Her previous doctor reports normal heartbeats", House pointed out. "Strike two."

"What about drugs?" Kutner asked. "An overdose of any one of several could have caused the heart attack. Maybe her previous doctor gave her too much meds."

"Unnoticed hemorrhage or a blood clot is more likely", Foreman countered.

"Run a tox screen and test for amyloidosis, hemochromatosis, diabetes, and whatever else causes cardiomyopathy. Check her blood count to rule out hemorrhage", House ordered. "And get a full family history", he added as his employees rose to run the tests. "This file is barely two pages long. And one of the pages is her previous doctor's report."

"It tells us everything relevant to her case, and she's an orphan", Foreman pointed out.

"Everybody lies", House quipped, before popping a Vicodin into his mouth.

In a hospital room not too far away, four young adults sat in the same room while their friend – House's patient – lay on the bed, propped up against pillows and hooked up to several monitors.

The patient had long blonde hair and curiously pink eyes. She was dressed in the Princeton-Plainsboro hospital gown but an earring in the shape of the planet Saturn dangled from each ear.

"Did we really have to come all the way to the 21st century for a medical diagnosis?" she was inquiring of the person closest to her – an auburn-haired young man with electric blue eyes.

"Imra, you had a heart attack", he told her. "None of the doctors back in the 31st century could figure out why, and according to Brainy, Dr. House was the best diagnostician in the 21st century, and no one seems to have come close to his genius in the last millennium."

"I was shot by a laser that pierced my lung", said Imra. "The lack of oxygen is probably what caused the heart attack."

"We don't know that for sure", he countered. "Brainy couldn't find a proper link between the two."

"Garth, we're disrupting the timeline…" Imra began.

"…for one of the most important members of the Legion", Garth finished for her, clasping her hand in his.

Imra looked at him with the slightest hint of a woeful smile just as two doctors entered the room, completely unaware that the five people in the room were not just ordinary people, and even more clueless still as to the fact that they were, in fact, five members of the Legion of Superheroes from the 31st century.

"Good morning, Miss Ardeen", Foreman greeted. "How are you feeling?"

"Please, it's Imra", Imra responded. "And I'm as good as I can be, considering I'm in a hospital", she added wryly.

"We'll have you out of here as soon as possible", Thirteen assured her. "I'm Dr. Hadley, and this is Dr. Foreman."

"Nice to meet you." Imra gestured for her friends to step forward. "This is Garth, Chuck, Tinya, and Luornu."

"Where's Dr. House?" asked Chuck – a plump young man in a blue cotton sweatshirt and black pants.

"He's…busy at the moment", Thirteen replied cautiously, catching Foreman's eye. Imra noticed this action and picked up on the mental waves concerning Dr. House's misanthropic personality. She relayed this information telepathically to the other Legionnaires, who immediately ceased to wonder why Gregory House was not examining his patient himself.

"We're gonna need to draw some blood so we can run a few tests", Thirteen continued. Imra nodded.

"Do you have any idea why she had a heart attack?" asked Luornu as Foreman injected Imra's arm with a syringe. Foreman looked at her. She was a slender girl in a form-fitting white dress with purple and orange streaks (which, incidentally, perfectly matched the streaks in her curiously snow white hair).

Foreman noticed her unusual hair color, but he said nothing about it. Instead he answered, "That's what we're trying to find out…Luornu, right?"

"Yep", she replied.

"That's a unique name", Thirteen commented. Foreman wasn't listening, however – he was carefully examining the patient's pink eyes.

"Your eyes always been that color?" he asked.

Imra's hand went unconsciously to her face. "Yes. Why?"

"It's called albinism", Foreman explained. "That's the term for a condition that results from a lack of pigmentation. There are several varieties of it. In your case, it's ocular albinism, because it's only affecting your eyes." He tilted his head slightly to the side. "But I've never heard of ocular albinism causing pink eyes. Usually they're red."

"Oh." Imra squirmed, meeting Garth's eye. "It's a…genetic condition, I guess", she said. "Maybe a mix of factors caused it."

Foreman didn't look convinced, but he decided not to press the matter further. Instead he said to the nurse who just came in, "Take this down to the lab for testing, please." The nurse nodded and exited the room.

"Ms. Ardeen…Imra, can you remember anything about your birth parents?" inquired Thirteen.

"Is this necessary?" Imra asked, clearly uncomfortable.

"I know it must be difficult for you to have lost your parents at such a young age", Thirteen said gently, "But any illness they might have had could have been passed on to you. It might be medically relevant."

"As far as I can remember, they don't have any hereditary diseases", said Imra. She realized then what she said, and quickly corrected her mistake. "I mean didn't. I don't think they had anything that would be relevant."

Thirteen had noticed, despite Imra's attempt to cover it up, her use of the present tense when she had talked of her parents. She passed it off as a slip of the tongue, but it kept nagging her at the back of her mind. She pushed it aside and continued.

"We need to get as complete a family history as possible", she said. "If there's anything you can remember about your parents…"

"Everything that we could remember, we put in the file", Imra answered. "I know it's incomplete, but it's the best we could do."

"I understand", said Thirteen. "If you remember anything else that might be even remotely relevant, you should tell us. Doctor-patient confidentiality prevents us from telling anyone anything you don't want them to know, and it could help us figure out what's wrong with you."

"We will", Garth promised.

"In the meantime, why don't you tell us the name of the orphanage you live in?" suggested Foreman. "Someone there might know something."

"We've moved out", supplied a dark-haired young woman in a short black dress and shiny silver leggings – Tinya. "And anyway, we've asked. They told us everything they knew. Imra's previous doctor put it into her file."

"Who was her previous doctor?" asked Foreman. "We didn't get a name."

"Uh, I don't think you'd know him", replied Chuck evasively. "He's a relatively new doctor, but he's quite efficient. Everything was going fine until Imra had the heart attack."

"Hmm…" said Foreman, unsure whether to take them at their word or not, while Thirteen examined Imra.

"Vitals look good, heart's still a little irregular, but that's to be expected. It still needs time to recover." Thirteen removed her stethoscope. "Other than that, you seem to be f–"

She broke off abruptly as Imra started shaking violently, rattling the bed and IV. Garth jumped up and exclaimed, "What's wrong with her?"

Thirteen tried to hold Imra down long enough to diagnose her. "She's seizing. Call a code!" she cried. She and Foreman worked together to get Imra on her side as two nurses rushed in.

"Get them out of here", Foreman said to a nurse, who nodded and began ushering Garth, Chuck, Tinya, and Luornu out of the room, evicting strong protests from all four.

The last thing the four Legionnaires heard before the door was closed on them was Thirteen saying urgently, "I need four milligrams of lorazepam, stat!"

A/N: Well, there you have it. By popular request, I present to you the first ever Legion of Superheroes/House crossover. I will be referring to the Legionnaires by their real names throughout the story, as well as updating daily. And, as always, reviews fuel my muse, so please......=)

Disclaimer: I don't own House or Legion of Superheroes.