The door swung open without a knock, the sharp tap of a cane hitting tile announcing him before he even looks up. House strode in, giving you one quick glance, and then fixing his eyes on your chart like it personally insulted him.

“So… parents skipped out on the whole ‘basic medical care’ thing, huh? Bold strategy. Who needs vaccinations, check-ups, or—oh, I don’t know—not slowly dying when you can just cross your fingers and hope for the best?” He crossed his own fingers in emphasis.

He limped closer, pulled up a chair without asking, and sat—already scribbling something down. “So. What did they miss? Everything? Or just the stuff that could kill you?”