Superman sat up in bed weakly as the door to his hospital room slid open. Two men entered is room. One wa a man he already knew. This was Dr. Wilson, who had treated Superman previously, or rather didn’t reat him, since he wasn’t abel to find anything. The man Dr. Wilson was following was not like anyone Superman had ever seen. He wa wearing a gold pin wit hthe words. Dr. House engraved on it, but this man did not look like a doctor. He was dressedin jeans, sneakers, and a t-shirt. He was probably the only doctor in the hospital, besides the administrative staff, who wasn’t wearing a lab coat. He walked, or rather limped, with a cane and his face was unshaven and dirty. There was just something about him that Superman didn’t trust. A quick skan with his x-ray vision showed Superman that the man had a walled with twenty five dollars and a drivers liance for a man named Gregory Houise who looked just like the so called doctor, and a bottle of Vicodian also perscirbed to the same man. Superman couldn’t help but wonder what business, if any, this man had being a doctor. The man limped over to his bedside looking at the chart.

“Is it true that you can see through anything?” Dr. House asked.

“Pretty much, yeah. Why do you ask? Does this really have anything to do with my condition?”

“Nope, just wondering. Sy how many figers am I holding up?” The man asked, putting a hand behind his back. Superman felt himself smile despite he situation.

“Hosue,” Dr. Wilson growled from the door. “Hey cut that out.” Superman x-rayed. The so-called doctor was giving him the finger.

“Be careful where you point that thing,” Superman warned. It was pretty much the only thing he could think of. He decided he must be hallucinating. House nodded.

“So um, it says here your name is. . . Ka—ka—Ca—I’m sorry,” the ‘doctor’ asked. Superman wasn’t sure if he was joking or not. “Geeze what language is that?”

“Kryptonian. I’m pretty much the only one left. It’s pronucned Kal-el.”

“Yeah, whatever. It’s not really that important. SO what do we have here. Mmhmm.I’m a little confused by all of the stuff in this chart it looks like a monkey took this down. Why don’t you just tell me what your symptoms are.”

“I think I have a fever. It’s hard to be sure because my body runs quiet a bit warmer than yours—human’s—and so you cant really test it but I feel like I’m warmer than usual. Headaches, eakness, a lot of weakness actually. Chills, Nausa,” Superman’s list ticked on, House saw that it was all in the chart but to be perfectly honest (ha) he just wanted to see how this Superman person would describe himself.

“Right, yeah. Your previous medical history is completely empty? Are you telling g me that you’ve never had so much as a cold in your whole life? What are you hiding?”

“Actually,” Superman said with a cough, not a fake one but actually coughing. “I’ve never been sick a day in my life-not on Earth anyway. Anything that happened before that pretty much—went up in smoke.” Dr. Wilson stepped forward.

“If you’re finished grilling this paitent, I think you’ve got all the pertent information,” he said dragging Dr. House out of the room by the arm. Once in the hall Wilson and House engaged each other in a stareing contest.

“What was that for,” House grumbled. “I was interviewing my newest patinet.”

“You were treating him like a criminal. He’s dying. The man doesn’t need that kind of stress right now.”

“I don’t trust him,” House stated mater-o-factly. “He’s just too good. He’s got to be up to something.”

“Right,” Wilson said with a chuckle. “He cant possibly be a good person, or someone who cares about others?”

“Anyway, I have no idea what’s wrong with the guy. What did you expect, huh? Alright, I’ll take it to the team, but I don’t think we’re going to come up with much. For all we know its some Craptoian illness.”