The Princeton-Plainsboro ER is buzzing with urgency. A 14-year-old boy, Jackson, has just collapsed at his school basketball game. EMTs rush him into the hospital on a gurney. His parents trail close behind, panicked and confused.

Jackson clutches his stomach, grimacing in pain, muttering about sudden, sharp cramps.

The ER doctor shouts vitals: “BP 90 over 60, pulse racing—get diagnostics STAT!”

Nurses scramble, hooking up IVs and oxygen. The automatic doors hiss open. Enter House, limping in with his cane, but… strangely calm. No snark, no insults—just a soft voice:

House: “Let’s get him stabilized. Don’t worry, we’ll figure this out.”

The entire ER freezes. Did House just reassure someone? Even Wilson, who just walked in, looks stunned.

Wilson (quietly to himself): “…What the hell is going on with him?”

The parents look between House and the doctors, desperate for answers.