//------------------------------// // Prolouge: The Puzzles I Sought // Story: |House M.D| Something to Smile About // by ProbableSarcasm //------------------------------// "Somehow, my ability to not care about patients is suddenly affecting you in a way that doesn't effect me," I was walking down the hallway, ponies in lab coats and and numerous colors of ugly ties passing the two of us. I would like to subtract one of us from this equation, but Redheart is very persistent with her way of getting it clear to me that I need to be more mindful about what I say to ponies. I, myself, was a human and a very handsome one in fact. My hair was clippered short, I had the stubble that drove girls crazy, also the Vicodin addiction that sealed the deal. I could get into any girl's pants! "You just can't tell a foal that he's being a idiot and his mother's being an overprotective nutbrain!" Redheart continued, much... much... much... much to my dismay, "Not my fault they get their feelings hurt, they expect me to be big on smiles and chipper," I added, stopping by the circular front desk and turning to face the three foot Dean of Medicine. Formally known as Nurse Redheart, she is now Doctor Redheart. Word around the office, she was very nice until I came along. Then again, I noticed a nice shade of blue in the world since I have opened my mouth. That, or the rainbow gay pride pony has managed to completely alter my sense of color perception. I took the bottle of Vicodin from my jeans pocket and popped two pills, I think, Redheart was giving me a headache. "It's your fault if you get hurt because you said the wrong thing!" Redheart was even more annoying than Cuddy, or Foreman to be honest. Actually, all three of them were equally as annoying. All three of them big idiots in situations I can only explain in a method of keeping a lung in a incubator, but only one of them had a nice ass though: and that was me. "Aw, is poor Wittle Red-sweet-heart worried about my well being?" I feigned a swooned voice, making it more obvious I was mocking her. I think she picked up I was mocking. "If you're mocking my authority, I'll make you do three more clinic hours!" She warned, of course, I never did these clinical hours. Not as fun as treating real ponies with real problems, not a simple Earth Pony and his mother worried about magic not being able to solve something as common as the flu. No. I wanted to think, not just insult ponies, I wanted to do both! "I'm not mocking your authority, I'm mocking you," I made a poker face and made a condescending-bright look on my face before painfully trudging up the stairs. I missed elevators, but the elevators in this hospital are for patients only. Which is stupid, doctors need to be in fit but that shouldn't mean people like me with a busted leg have to climb stairs. It's absurd. "House, wait," Redheart called after me, a patient file in her jaws. I took the file, grimacing at the saliva. I hated the way ponies never, or rarely used their hooves around me. It's easier for them just for me to grab it from their teeth using my godsend gift of opposable thumbs. Either God hates me enough, he's trying to divine intervene my life with Wilson's.... Never mind, pretend I never thought that, mystery head dweller. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're flirting with me, which is very nonprofessional," I teased, narrowing my eyes before opening them again. "Although I wouldn't blame you, all the ladies love the walnut wood." With that, I twirled my cane like a baton. Successfully knocking a tray of food off the cart, and the cart, and a very pissed pegasus. I looked at the cart and didn't even blink. I looked back at the pegasus and with the most genuine voice I could muster, with the pride and Vicodin swallowed, the most sincere words I can think. "Oops," Nailed it. Thinking back to the hospital before Cuddy quit, this hospital is a lot similar to Princeton. Just more niegh-borly. Too soon? I'm not going to deny it, like anyone else in my position right now, I am crazy. Insane in the membrane, loco, nuts, I belong in the madhouse. How do I know this, you might add? Well, one: I'm not an idiot. Acceptance is the first road to recovery from pain, I accept that I'm in pain, I accept I have an addiction to Vicodin, I accept my romantic life is a wreck, I accept I might be Schizophrenic, I accept pain. What I don't accept, is looking through my office window and seeing a very pesky purple unicorn sitting in my chair. Maybe if I walk fast enough, she won't notice me. Or maybe ponies have the T-Rex mentality, where if I stand still long enough: she won't notice me. Either way, I need to get back in my office to look at the patient folder. Usually, I'd select my patients selectively. If it bores me, back downstairs it goes. Either in a very creative airplane or a crumbled ball, or I can throw it out the window but Redheart installed a screen protector. I think she wants me to stop throwing cases and start paying attention to them, but I think she needs to tell me that a couple of times and put it in a memo that will rest at the bottom of my trashcan of unimportant notes. I opened the door to my office and sat across from Twilight Sparkle, possibly the Cameron of this world. I crossed my bad leg over my oter one nd started reading my patient's case. Coma, caused by blunt force trauma to the head. What was to diagnose? She got hit in the head by a piano, which in turn caused her horn to sporadically shot signals. Instead of outwards, it went inwards and fried her brain. She gets a new brain or she dies in a few weeks. Boring. I Frisbee tossed the file to the side and leaned back in the chair, looking at Twilight with an eyebrow raised. I breathed in heavily and exhaled, a big and long sigh. I interlocked my fingers and rested my hands on my stomach. I saw her look at the file and confusingly looked back at me, like she never seen me not take a case before. I simply looked at Twilight, my forehead wrinkled as I raised both my eyebrows this time. "So what's the diagnosis, Doctor? Is my baby going to live?" Twilight glared at me, "What? Too soon?" "Cadence's miscarriage was this morning, House, you'd think that's a little early?" I love it, she's been around me long enough to finally comprehend the basics of sarcasm. Sadly, she'll never truly understand that being cynical as me is an art. Also, I'd knew I'd get a reaction out of her knowing I just made a remark about the touchy subject of the miscarriage. "My stripper was also early, but I don't see how that's relevant," I replied, shooting my lips down for my iconic (to me) condescending look. I noticed her chest inhaling are so I cut her off. "Why are you in my chair, do you want me to sit on you? I'll have you know that I'm paid for my services." "Stop dodging my questions before I ask them," Twilight crossed her arms her lips pouting, she's been dying to know about me. You know, being the only human for an entire melliuim. "Stop asking me questions you know I'll dodge," I replied, shrugging. "I thought it's that's simple." "One question?" She pleaded. "That's your question." Looking back into the case, I noticed something interesting , my fellow head dwellers, and it caught my eye. There's no sign of magical scarring on the damaged brain, which means the horn did not fire magic. Now, I may not be able to cast magic, but I think I can recognize a problem when I see one. I spent weeks and a year studying Pony biology. I also have hired a extra hand, hoof rather, in situations like this. Specialist in in Magic, and agreed to work for me in exchange for three bits an hour and information about my life monthly, I have Doctor Twilight Sparkle. I don't know how, but overnight: she managed to get the title of Doctor while it took me an entire year of studying pony biology and 20 years of prior experience to regain my two letters after my name. MD. She has ties that I want. And on the other side of the round table, sir author, was Doctor Whooves. An all rounded specialist in neurology, biology, and chemistry (and suspected time traveller). I have to pay him full time without the happy ending. At least I can make fun of him when he's wrong, but he might go back in time and murder me before I even utter my first words. I looked over the case notes once more and threw two copies of the case on my desk. I wasn't able to convince Redheart for my own department, but enough for my own office with enough space for a desk, sofa, a chalk board for theories, and a chalkboard for lewd drawings. "Female, age nine, you might know her but I don't," I said, sitting in my chair. I have a computer, but apparently Redheart put a block on my computer to not be able to look up anything that isn't medical related. How else would I be able to look at my favorite soap spoilers? At least there's TV. "In a coma from a damaged Magical Lobe?" Twilight answered, a Magical Lobe is on the creative side of the brain of a unicorn, buried deep inside of the brain. Nerves and vessels pulse through the lobe, while oxygen and blood is fused together chemically to create a ionic bound. This bond sends the new chemical directly to the horn's Magical Receivers, which makes he horn go bright and make pew pew. "Dinkie Do?" Doctor Hooves looked up from his coffee, reading the case file. "Yeah, know her?" I retorted. "Not enough to leave an impression on her, I know the mother though." Doctor Hooves replied, sipping his coffee more. Twilight looked back up at me. "She got a piano dropped on her?" "Yeah-yeah-yeah, piano fell on a foal, sad noises, anything, why is she in a coma?" "Because she fried her brain because the piano fell on top of her?" Twilight rolled her eyes, crossing her forelegs. "It's common in unicorns who can't control their magic for Magical Discharge to go inwards. The intensity depends on a head injury, a light tap on the head might sting and a bowling ball to the head will obliterate the brain." Doctor Hooves looked back at me. "There's no signs of magical scarring," I answered, my eyebrows furrowing. "C'mon, c'mon! Think!" Doctor Hooves looked up, "Maybe the piano rattled the brain, and she's in a coma from blunt trauma?" "No way to confirm, and a brain doesn't just magically collapse from the inside." I shot down, "I need something we can test, not just ideas that sound cool!" Twilight was deep in thought. "Maybe there's a clot in her magical reciever, and a build up of magical charge caused the Magical Lobe to shut down?" Hooves continued, determined/ "That would have caused her horn to turn as limp as... actually, that's not a image I want to put in your head." I answered. "Her eyes" We both looked at Twlight. We both waited. "Fine, Doctor Twilight," I said, rolling my eyes, "What about her eyes?" "If we open her eyes and there's blood, that would confirm a clot in the brain. Or if her eyes are orange, that means the clot is in her magical receiver, if it's green, she is cut off from all magic." Not a bad idea. "Confirm with a MRI and a CT scan, and pull it out." I nod my head, Twilight and Hooves stood up. "What are you going to be doing?" Hooves pressed. "Sleep, the couch looks comfy." I replied leaping onto the couch with a creak. "Ahhhh....."