Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dr. Henrietta House was thus far having a terrible day. Dr.Cuddy; had assigned her extra clinic hours today. Why?

Oh! Because Cuddy is a joy sucking vampire and House is her favourite thrall.

That's the only reason. House sending one of her patients into a cardiac arrest to prove her point has nothing to do with it. House hates clinic duty and she's been pissed about it since the moment she woke up.

On top of that, she didn't get any coffee today because her coffee machine was broken. Since her car was empty on gas, she had to take the bus and now has to walk the rest of the way from the bus stop to Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital that too, in this November chill.

So, she is still groggy with sleep, annoyed and cold. She vehemently hopes she has to suffer no fools today.

But on the bright side of things, the streets are empty. Interacting with less people than necessary always makes her feel better.
///

She's distracted while crossing the road, a very stupid thing to do. But let's blame it on the lack of caffeine.

A car as fancy enough to be called 'some capitalists ego on wheels' drives down the road. It's not speeding but it's not slowing either. And the rich asshole driving it, is driving it is driving it directly at Dr.House.

The car's driver maybe, realising at the last moment that she ain't gonna move out of the way fast enough slams his foot on the breaks. The car skids to a stop, but not soon enough to not at least bump her.

//

House turns her head towards the sound of screeching tires and realizes a little too late that a car was coming straight at her. Her attempt to move out of the way are a failure. 

The car bumps into her good leg and knocks her down. A rush of adrenaline wakes her up instantly. She swallows as she realises that she almost died.

Her hand on her cane is shaky as she pulls herself up. And the fear she just felt burns into rage.

The street is eerily quiet except for the sound of the car door slamming shut. Eminem steps out, looking irritated.

Dr. Henrietta House stands on shaky legs, brushing off her coat, gripping her cane a tighter than usual. She's looks ready to bite someone's head off.

"Yo, what the hell? You trying to get yourself killed?"Eminem yells out.

"I don't know, was that your intention? Because if you were aiming for my other leg, you missed, genius." Dr.House snaps back.

Eminem blinks, his eyes widen when he notices the cane. And suddenly he is rushed with a sense of remorse. You can almost see the moment he realises- ' I just nearly ran over a cripple woman!'

"Shit. Look, lady-"

"'Lady'? Wow. Chauvinism and reckless driving. Let me guess-this is the part where you tell me I should watch where I'm going?"She grips her jacket to hide the tremor in her hand; a side-effect from the adrenaline still coursing through her bloodstream.

"Well, yeah! You just popped up outta nowhere!" The rapper says.

They're both arguing like loons in the November chill... in the middle of the road. What a bunch of intelligent idiots!

"Oh, I popped up? Right, because I'm known for my cat-like reflexes and ability to leap into traffic." She quips.

Eminem snorts, then catches himself. "You know what? I don't have time for this crazy ass-"

"Right, better things to do, like not paying attention while driving a car worth more than my hospital's entire budget." She stomps her cane on the ground, turning; with every intention to walk away with the last word in.

But then Eminem says,"Pfft. Please. I barely hit you. You're standing, aren't you?"

And ... she can't just let him have the last word.

"Wow, you're right! I should be thanking you. I was just thinking, Man, I miss nearly dying today.'"

In the middle of this verbal spat, Eminem's hoodie drops to show his signature bleach blond hair and Dr.House recognizes who's in front of her. She has a small second of starstruck-ness. Then, she remembers herself. So, what if he's rap-god, he's still the asshole that almost ran her over.

The blond rapper groans, "Oh my god, you're worse than my ex."

"Which one? The one you diss in every other album, or the one who sued you?"She says as a matter-of-a-factly

Eminem laughs despite himself, then realizes that she knows him. 'shit!' he thinks to himself.'I'm gonna get sued again.' He's come to that conclusion and is practically convinced of it. Because he's past experiences hasn't taught him to think the best about people.

He glares at her "You know what? Screw this. You wanna sue me? Go ahead."

Dr. House cocks her head, considering for a moment." You know, I was joking, but now that you mention it-hmm, pain and suffering, mental distress... I could use a new leg."

Eminem grits his teeth at the mention of sueing,(even though he's the one that brought it up in the first place) he retaliates saying,"you're the one that wasn't paying attention. Try to kill yourself by jumping in front of some other car next time. You crazy..." She interrupts him before he can finish that sentence.

"You seriously think I was trying to off myself?" She says incredulously.

She gives him a look -that screams '-are you dumb?'

He notices and then bristles at it.

"Well, Normal people-- who aren't blind don't stand in the middle of the street like limp fish."At this the blonde manace is somewhat aware that he should probably just leave this argument end here. Instead of dragging it out. But is he going to? No.

While House narrowed her eyes at him and smiled. Was that limp fish comment about a hit at her bum leg? 

It totally was!

She clenches her jaw then takes in a deep breath and relaxes them. Her face twists into a mockery of remorse as she drawls out in perfect chaffing monotone. "Oh no, my grand plan has been thwarted. I was aiming for a bus, but your fancy car got in the way. My bad." 

The rapper throws up his hands. "I barely even touched you!" He sneers at her.

"I barely even touched you," She mimics in a terrible Detroit accent. "Sure, let's call it that. If I 'barely' ran someone over, I'd at least have the decency to pretend to care."

Eminem groans and wonders why he even got out of bed today. He runs a hand through his hair. "Oh my god, you're dramatic as hell."

House gasps, clutching her chest, like she's clutching at her make-believe pearls. "Me? Dramatic? I'm sorry, do you own a mirror? Because I'm 99% sure you made your career off yelling into microphones about your trauma."

Eminem tilts his head, considering her for a second as he takes her in from head to toe.He then glares again and retorts, "And you made your career off what? Guilt-tripping sick people?"
It's a guess, but he's pretty sure from the 'hospital budget' comment she's either a spiteful nurse or a loony Doctor.

"No, I made mine off knowing when idiots are lying. And right now? You're trying real hard to act like you're not secretly shitting yourself over almost turning me into roadkill." House replies, not missing a beat.

Eminem exhales sharply, his lips twitching like he's this close to laughing but refusing to let it happen. He knows, she's not wrong, but he refuses to admit it.

She notices it though, and at the sight of his apparent amusement, her anger dims and she lets out a scoff at the whole absurdity of the situation.

"I- okay, maybe I feel a little bad." He confesses.

The doctor grins like she just won something. "Aw, look at you, having emotions. You should put that in a song."

Eminem rolls his eyes. "Yeah, I'll get right on that. Gonna call it 'Crazy Lady Won't Shut Up.'"

"Oh, you mean like literally every diss track you've ever written?" 

And that's when it happens. A crack in the wall. Eminem laughs, caught off guard by her. A real, surprised laugh that he instantly tries to smother. Dr. House, on the other hand, lets out a bark of laughter, looking proud of herself. Smug like the cat that ate the canary.

Marshall is shaking his head, muttering to himself. "This is so fucking stupid."

They are both coming to the same conclusion now and have lost their fire for the fight.

"Oh, completely. But you're still standing here, aren't you?"

He opens his mouth to argue but stops. That's when he notices-she's smirking at him like she's enjoying this. And the truth is... So is he. The fight had started with genuine irritation, but now... now it's changed into something else. There's an energy between them, pulsing in the air.

The truth is that they were having ...fun. Maybe a little too much.

Then, They just... stare at each other for a second. The street is silent. The cold air does nothing to cool the weird heat suddenly creeping in between them. 

"Who are you?" The blonde menace of the rap world asks, now genuinely curious.

"Someone who has to be at a clinic in ten minutes and has wasted enough time talking to a rap god with the attention span of a goldfish."She quips feigning non-interest. 

Eminem scoffs, but doesn't argue. He watches her step back, wincing slightly as she adjusts her cane and starts walking away.

As she's leaving, she looks back and says.
"Drive safe, Marshall"

There; now she has successfully had the last word in. Won the petty Olympics against a giant in the petty sports.

Eminem watches her go, catching himself before he stares a little too long at the way she moves. He blinks, shakes his head, and mutters under his breath"What the fuck just happened?"

He gets back in his car, but his mind is still stuck on that weird, unexpected tension between him and the crazy cane lady. Meanwhile, Dr. House walks towards the hospital, smirking to herself, her mood much better than it was in the morning.

///

Neither of them, knew that while they were having their war of words in the middle of the seemingly isolated street. Some guy watching the CCTV footage of the store he works for was greatly entertained by the whole altercation.He got the full show taped his security cameras. He was basically jumping up and down in his seat when he realized the guy in the video is Eminem; The Eminem. He wishes he could figure out who the cane lady was though, but camera angle was inconvenient and didn't show her face. Whoever she was, he thought she was fantastic. Keeping up with him like that. In his eyes, Marshall was walking away from his soulmate.

An idea struck him. This deserves to be shared with the whole world.

   *24 hours later

A YouTube video titled "Eminem meets his soulmate" goes viral. Generating more than 2 million views within 24 hours....

. .... To be continued.

Chapter Text

The Comment section of "Eminem meets his soulmate" :(Almost 48 hours after upload)

@M&MoreMs:“I came here expecting Eminem to roast her but SHE ABSOLUTELY COOKED HIM. Bro is seasoned like a Thanksgiving turkey.”(29k likes)

@TotallySane:“Imagine waking up, going to work, and accidentally getting into a rap battle with Eminem.”(12k likes)

@chronicallySleepdeprived: "WHO IS THIS WOMAN AND WHY IS SHE SO POWERFUL???”(18k likes)

@Dramaficjunkie:“Eminem: ‘I barely hit you.’

Her: proceeds to verbally eviscerate him in public”(17k likes)

@Fishballs12: “I need a collab. Forget music—give me a sitcom.”(8k likes)

@ShadyStan99:“Dude got out-witted, out-maneuvered, and out-barred in his own domain. Someone check on him.”(15.1k likes)

@PRnightmareno2: "I just know Paul Rosenberg is out there somewhere, stressing tf out. (9k likes)

@EminemFan420: “Bro. WHO IS SHE?! I’ve never seen anyone make him shut up before.”(7k likes)

@LegallyBrunette: “She should absolutely sue. A multimillionaire ran her over and then insulted her?? Easy settlement.”( 3.1k likes)

@RealSlimShadyStan: “Lmao, you can hear him realizing she’s funnier than him mid-argument. Lowkey hoping she doesn’t sue just so we get more of their banter.”(10k likes)

@WhyAreWeLikeThis: “WHY IS THIS HOT??"(16k likes)

Reply:

     @Fishball12: "@WhyAreWeLikeThis IKR!!!"(1k likes)

@ShadyAndSarcasm4Life: "I don’t care what anyone says, the chemistry here was insane. I need them to meet again. Immediately."(989 likes)

@GoldenEraStan: "As an Eminem fan since ‘99, I never thought I’d see the day where someone matched his energy like this. This woman is perfect for him."(1.3k likes

@ShutUpAndKiss: "Why was that fight kinda… hot??? Like am I crazy or was there actual tension?"(2k likes)

@WillTheyWon’tThey: "Y’all, imagine their second meeting. The slow realization. The accidental eye contact. The unresolved banter."(1k likes)

@FanficIsLife: "Listen. LISTEN. If we don’t get a sequel to this video, I’m writing my own."(4.1k likes)

@JusticeForCaneLady: "Nah, but for real, she should sue. Man nearly ran her over and then argued with her about it."(570 likes)

@EminemApologist: "Bro, she walked away fine. Y’all act like he backed over her three times for fun."(682 likes)

@NotALawyer: "She said ‘pain and suffering’ with conviction. That’s lawsuit energy if I’ve ever seen it."(203 likes)

@RealestStan44: "She’s not gonna sue. If she wanted to, she wouldn’t have just clowned him for five minutes straight."(809 likes)

@WhyAreWeFighting: "Eminem fans are arguing with each other about this more than he did with her. 😂"(2k likes)

@BothAreDumb: "Everyone’s talking lawsuits and chemistry, but let’s be real—both of them are just two petty gremlins who love arguing."(8.5k likes)

Reply 

           @Chemistry4Days: "@BothAreDumb Which is why they’re meant for each other. They need to meet again, just so we can get a part two of this.(279 likes)

@EminemAt8: "As the car in question, I’d like to apologize. I was just following orders." (3.7k likes)

@Cane4President: "I love how this lady just insulted Eminem better than MGK did in his entire diss track."(6.9k likes)

@PaulRosenbergFanclub: "Paul is losing his mind right now. He probably already has an NDA drafted."(2.5k likes)

@SomebodyCheckKim: "I know Kim is watching this video and laughing."(2k likes)

@Marshall’sConscience: "You know Eminem’s already written six bars about her in his Notes app."(1.9k likes)

@RapDevoteeSince03: "Calling it now: this moment is making it into his next song."(3.5 k likes)

Chapter Text

Inside Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, a brilliant yet disrespectful diagnostician was heading into her office with one hand in her cane and the other poorly hiding the bottle of scotch she stole from under Dr.Cuddy's nose. It was her vengeance for the extra clinic hours.

The fluorescent lights above hummed softly as Dr.House limped into her office and sighed. The day was long, but at least her patient didn't die.This one wasn't even that interesting, just autoimmune hepatitis making the patient look like a pale oompa loompa. She tossed her cane against the desk, pulled out a glass from the drawer, and poured herself two fingers of it. Just enough to take the edge off. She flops down into her chair, and massages her leg. It hurts a little more than it did yesterday.

She takes one sip of the scotch, and - glorious - 'this shit was too good'. She briefly wonders how old the scotch really is and if Cuddy was saving it for a special occasion. Then, smiles wickedly imagining her pissed off face when she finds out it's gone. Her phone buzzes on the desk beside her, pulling her out of her daydream.

New Message – Wilson:
“Thought you said you didn’t like rappers?”

House squints. What the hell is he talking about?

Buzz.
Another Message – Link Attached:
YouTube: “Eminem Meets His Soulmate"

House frowns. 'Wilson's watching rap beefs now? Has hell frozen over?'
She wonders just for a second if his new found interest in the world of rap would be due to her funny little altercation with the Rapper Eminem, she told him about.
But then she snorts because there's no way Wilson would listen to anyone who says ‘bars’ unironically.

She’s about to ignore it—but then another message pings in.

Wilson:
“Tell me honestly… is that you?”

Her brows arch sharply. And now she’s curious.

She clicks open the video

'SCREEN RECORDING OF THE VIDEO:'
It's grainy and the video shows the street across from the hospital. It's clearly CCTV footage. And then she sees herself. She freezes with her glass of scotch nearly at her lips. In the frame, She can see Eminem's sleek black car bump her, causing her to fall —and she gets up shakily and what follows is some Olympics-level verbal-sparring between them.
It grainy, and her silluette is blurry, but that gait and that cane! It's definitely her.
Her voice slices through the noise like a scalpel.
"'Lady'? Wow. Chauvinism and reckless driving. Let me guess-this is the part where you tell me I should watch where I'm going?"
House freezes, eyes narrowing.

“Oh my god.” who the hell put this on the internet?

The video rolls on. Eminem’s retort is sharp, but she’s sharper. He falters. She watches herself turn, throw a final 'Drive safe, Marshall' and limp off with maximum disdain, like the final boss in video game who just won. She laughs at Mathers stunned face. Also,...'was he checking me out in the end there?' she wonders to herself. And shakes it off, cause it might just be trick her vanity is playing on her.

She leans back slowly in her chair, sighing and taking a sip of her drink.

Then she starts snickering. She plays the video back and her snickering turns up in volume now. She sets the glass down and laughs.

“I left Eminem speechless.”she practically beams.

But then, Dr. House filled with an infectious need to know more enters the comments section.

@Brainrot010: “Is this the first time Em got ratio’d IRL???”(25k likes)
(111 replies)
@mr.pinacolata: “Who is this woman and where can I buy her a drink?”(6.7k like)
(37 replies)

@Hemmroidswillneverdefeatme: “She roasted him with medical-level precision, I felt that in my bones.”(8.9k likes)
(78 replies)

@Amazonianprime: “Plot twist: this is the beginning of a rom-com.”(15k likes)
(45 replies)

She squints at the usernames.
'who are these people? Are they real? Is this really happening?'

House blinks. Her humour dulls at the comments; she appreciates the praises but the fact that they're all shipping her with Eminem makes her question their sanity and sense of judgement. Like her with him? That could never work.
Also, how is getting run over by someone's car in any way romantic?!

“What the—” she pauses as she reads another comment.

@EminenStan78: "Eminem’s soulmate fr. Look at him, she’s got him in emotional handcuffs.”(12.5k likes)
(90 replies)
@Lawbreaker99:“Petition to get this woman a record deal. Or a podcast. Or a TED Talk. Something.”(3.9k likes)
(13 replies)
@ListenerofPodcasts:“No one:
Absolutely no one:
Eminem: I only like women who verbally eviscerate me in public."(11k likes)
(58 comments)

She chokes on her own laughter now, covering her mouth as tears prick her eyes. Everyone has lost their minds! how the hell did it get this far?

She clutches her phone like it’s some alien object.

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen,” she mumbles, still laughing, “and I once diagnosed a man with brain parasites after he tried to marry a toaster.”

Buzz. Another text. Wilson again.
“So… when’s the wedding?”

House sends him an emoji, flipping him off without words.Then, takes another sip of scotch, shakes her head in disbelief. This comment section will provide her entertainment this whole week.

She leans back, muttering under her breath:
“Eminem meets his soulmate, huh? Yeah, well… no one tell him I smiled."

But she’s still smiling

Chapter Text

Eminem is nothing if not self aware. He knows himself, the good, the bad, the evil. Every thought in his head he knows. It's making them go away that's hard.

But since a very long time, Marshall has used his raps, the music and his lyrics to cope with the intrusive thoughts. 

For him, it's therapeutic. But, when he is journaling tonight, it's not song lyrics he's writing because there's no way he will release a song like this. Not because it's explicit or dirty but it's turning out weird. But he couldn't help but write it though. He reads the lines written out already and scrunches his eyebrows. He reads it again and has to restrain himself from writing more, and more lines that just come to him fluidly, easily like lady muse just decided to crack her knuckles and drop in on him. So, he does end up writing half a whole song. 

He reads what he's written and cracks up laughing. ''Fuck!'' He breathes out the explitive as the amusing but peculiar realization hits him--'he likes that crazy woman.' 

No. It's not like he's gonna go find out where she lives and then go ask her for her hand. Chill. 

He just likes her. Maybe it was the mouth that ran like surgical scalpels ready for slicing. It probably was just that. Because Eminem could always appreciate a sharp witty shot.(Even if the target was him)

He huffed a laugh remembering one of her quips. 

His head was stuck on the woman he nearly ran over today. It wasn't as much as the almost accident but the verbal sparring that followed that was playing back over and over in his head(Probably because it was the most fun he has had in a while)by the time he realised what he was doing he had already written what looked like two verses. He groaned in annoyance. He was supposed to work today not fixate on the loony girl he met this morning.

But, he couldn't get her out of his head. At the end, he just closed the black journal, left it tucked in a corner of his writting desk and decides to call it a day and go back home to his daughters. 

He can think about smart ass doctors some other day.

////

It's 2 days after the incident, the almost accident that turned them; two middle aged geniuses squabbling like homeless junkies on the street. 

Eminem's studio is dim-lighted and a bit messy with poorly arranged notepads, and a few torn pages here littering the floor. A half finished energy drink sitting next to the rapper. 

The beat thuds low through the monitors. Eminem’s hunched over the mixing board, nodding absently as the track loops for the tenth time. He stops the track and straightens his spine with a crack and a small groan escapes him. 

The song wasn't turning out right today. 

He mumbles a line to himself, tweaking the delivery in his head. Beside him, a half-drunk energy drink sweats onto a stack of notebook pages, more than half of them crossed out in aggressive red ink.

He sighs frustrated at how unsatisfied he is with the lyrics. He feels tempted, and takes a look towards the black journal. He taps the ballpoint pen on the paper of the notebook under his hands. He forgets what he wanted to write next entirely. 

Eminem stares at the black journal. Thinking about the half written song in it. He told himself he'd give it a rest. There's no point in writing it anymore. Besides, it is not gonna be a song he can release. It's so stupid, no one's gonna listen to it.

His phone buzzes. Then again. And again.

He sighs, annoyed. Probably, one of the crew texting about a last-minute change for his show. 

He tries to get back to his failing endeavour of --finishing a song that just isn't coming to him.

It could also be something to do with Hailie -that puts a pause in him, he finally puts the pen down.

And checks his phone.

'What did you do now?' it's a text from Paul. 

 “What the hell, man…”Marshall says out loud. Instantly angry that his work was interrupted, just so he could be accused of ... something. Let's forget the fact that his music making was going terrible anyway.

He scowls. He didn’t do anything. Not this week, anyway. Wait, did he do something? He scrunches his face in thought.

“It’s Tuesday. I’ve been in the studio. How can I already be in trouble?” He tells the empty room.

The phone in his hand buzzes again.

This time, a link. No context.

He squints to see the video. He forgot to wear his contacts today. The video plays and it's a grainy CCTV video… of a street.

And-

Wait. That’s his car.

And that is-

“Oh, you gotta be kidding me.”

He watches, stunned, as the now-familiar scene plays out.

His car halted to a stop in front of her but it's not fast in stopping and bums into her. The crazy cane chick falls. And then she unleashes verbal nuclear warfare on him right there on the empty street. She; the record stuck in his head, cane, glare, and all.

Some idiot on the internet slapped a dramatic title across the video:"Eminem Meets His Soulmate." It has 7.8 million views. 

Marshall exhales through his nose, caught between mortification, amusement and shock.

 “Oh, come on…” he mutters and gets up from his seat. 

He clicks the comments. Because of course, he would. Marshall has never been afraid of knowing what people think about him, sure maybe they'll criticise him for nearly running over a cripple lady, but hey! What could they say that he hasn't heard before?

He opened the comment section and went through the top comments.

@SlimsWife97: “THE WAY SHE DIDN’T EVEN FLINCH. Soulmate confirmed.”

'what the fuck?!' Eminem stared at the comments incredulously. His face scrunched up more and more as he scrolled down.

@CourtMarshall33: “She said ‘’ Right, because I'm known for my cat-like reflexes and ability to leap into traffic." and I swear you can see Shady trying not to fall in love with her.”

@DisstheFanboy: “This woman diagnosed him with poor driving and bad attitude in under 30 seconds.”

@Cane4Shady: “Her cane? Her weapon. Her attitude? Deadly. Her man? Eminem.”

He couldn't hold it anymore, he cracked and started crackling like a maniac. He sits down, still laughing. They're shipping him with her! He was bracing himself for people trying to cancel him but he got fans making up an imaginary romance between him and the cane lady.

He reads more comments. Then starts laughing again. And it's a shoulder-shaking, tears-pricking-eyes laugh. It's the best laugh he's had in a long time. 

Wheezing he tries to compose himself.

 “They’re nuts. They’re all nuts…” He just knows this comment section is gonna entertain him for a long time.

He wipes his face and goes back to the video. He plays it again. Pauses at the part where House steps forward like she owns the road, stares him down like he’s an intern with bad credentials.

Yeah. She had stuck with him like sidewalk gum on sneakers. He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since the near accident

Not because of the savage snark.Well, okay — also because of the savage snark. 

But mostly the eyes.

The confidence.

The nerve of the woman. 

He sends a new text to Paul.

'Not my fault. She is the one started it.' He writes and hits send. And leaves this PR issue to Paul.

Then he stares at the screen for a long moment. He entirely quits the idea of finishing his work and instead opens Instagram. He wants to search 'Eminem soulmate', knowing that logically that would yield the best results but really doesn't want that to be in his search history. So, instead he searches for #Eminem.

He scrolls upon a slow-mo edit of him staring at her as she limps away with one last look thrown at him, set to Sade’s “No Ordinary Love.”

(Over 400,000 likes.)

 “Jesus Christ.”Eminem mutters to himself.

He pauses for a second then decides to see what else his fans on the internet are up to. 

He scrolls up on an edit titled -“This Woman Cooked Eminem and Limped Away Like a Queen”; the video zooms in every time House delivers a zinger, edits are placed in the vid, flames and the background sound of an audience cheering like it’s a rap battle.

He laughs,  his fans have way too much time in their hands. 

He scrolls down and comes upon a meme. 

It's his frozen bewildered face after she just starts leaving with the caption --

POV: You almost ran over a woman and she verbally eviscerates you and your entire career while limping away gracefully”

It was all un-fucking-believable. Most of it was hilarious but what bothered him was his fans clowning him. So many comments like-

"Bro, she cooked you!"

"Eminem finally met his match!"

"She limped away with your dignity!"

"Dude got out-witted, out-maneuvered, and out-barred in his own domain. Someone check on him"

He wanted to leave a middle finger under each of these comments, maybe a younger him would've done exactly that.

Where was the loyalty in this fandom? The respect? The basic fan-to-rap-god courtesy?

No, they all jumped ship the second he said “crazy lady won’t shut up” and she flipped it into “literally every diss track you've ever written" That line was everywhere. Almost every second edit with his name under it. TikTok audios. Someone autotuned it?!

What's next? Merch, actually-- he could see them doing just that.

He just annoyed but this all. 

So, He lost the verbal spar... once. And suddenly he's the damn punchline?

He wasn’t even mad at her, exactly. She was quick. The only one in a long time to out-wit him, if he was being honest.

And the way she didn’t flinch, didn’t grovel, didn’t even blink when she realized who he was? That threw him. Everyone else either simpered or squared up.But she .. just insulted his hair and cane-thumped her way out.

He rubbed his temples.

What the hell was happening?

He wasn’t mad at her. Not really. Just... irritated. Confused and kinda impressed. And, okay, maybe a little turned on—which only made it worse.

He muttered under his breath, “I should've just run the damn red light.”

He paused for a second and then swung around in his chair. 

He smirked," …Wonder how she’s reacting to this circus." 

He thinks for a second and looks at his black journal again, where the half finished song lies tauntingly.

Extra scenes:

How Eminem’s Friends React:

His crew is having a lot of fun with this, except a few. 

Paul Rosenberg (that's Eminem's manager) : “Marshall. We need to talk.”

50 Cent(his very loyal bro): “Bro, you really let a cane lady do you like that? Nahhh.” *He will then continue to clown him for this the entire year* 

Royce da 5’9”: “Ayo, she lowkey got you, though. Respect.” 

Dr. Dre(,his mentor): Just sends the “crying laughing” emoji.

Proof (he is alive in this Fanfic😁): “Marshall, you gonna let her out-bar you like that? Damn.”

*he will later nickname Dr.House; the Limping legend and Roadkill Ripper, just to mess with Em*

His publicist: “Do not engage. I repeat, DO NOT ENGAGE.”

*poor guy is gonna develop hypertension because of stress Marshall puts him through*

Chapter Text

It was getting dark inside Marshall's studio. Watching the gathering clouds in the sky, he wanted to curse out. It was supposed to be sunny today.

He sighed. There was never a dull day with Michigan's weather. 

He finally had finished the song he was supposed to be working on. Now the artist could come and record it next Monday. So, he didn't have anything to do anymore. Bored, he started looking for some snacks he vaguely remembers keeping somewhere around the studio.

Someone knocks on the door startling him and enters. Marshall relaxes because it's just Paul. 

Paul Rosenberg leans against the doorframe and looks sheepishly defensive like he's here with bad news like- he's about to tell Eminem to do something he's not gonna like. 

"What's up?" Eminem says conversationally.

Paul gives the rapper currently staring at him with suspicion a look and then looks at the piece of paper in his hand. "Listen Marshall, we gotta talk?" 

Marshall hates this conversation already.

Ten minutes later~

Paul has his arms crossed, while Eminem glares at his phone screen on the table like it personally offended him. A number already typed on the phone.

"You almost ran her over. Then you insulted her. The team and I talked about this for a long while and we agree that you have to apologize." Paul tries his best to explain to Marshall. His manager was only looking out for him, with a personal apology, Paul and the legal team would be able to breathe easily. It would be much less likely that the cane wielding woman is gonna sue him. But Eminem doesn't like it. It's not in his nature to apologise so easily, and if he believes he's not at fault, he is like a bull with his hooves stuck to the ground. And unfortunately--that's what the situation was. Marshall believed he wasn't entirely at fault, cause remember she was the one who was distracted while crossing the road.

"Or at least pretend to." Paul still tries to convince him, some more.

"I didn’t almost run her over. She dive-rolled into the street like she was escaping a hostage situation." The rapper states grumbling unhappily. It started raining outside, sound of the rain crashing chaotically on the window panes made the mood in the room turn more gloomy.

"And she still had enough brainpower to verbally dismantle you on that road." Paul says and it pricks Marshall's ego, making him grit his teeth. He gets one upped once in his life and it's like no one can let him forget it.

"That’s the issue, man. Internet loves her. You? Not so much right now." 

"Can’t believe I’m getting roasted for nearly flattening Mary Poppins with an attitude problem." Marshall mutters out. 

"Her name’s Dr. Henrietta House, by the way. I got her number from a lawyer friend. She’s a… diagnostician." He says reading off the paper in his hand.

"Apparently, one of the best in the country."He adds.

Eminem slowly looks up, downplaying his stirred up curiosity. 

He smirks, "Henrietta?"

"Her name sounds like a Jane Austen insult. What the hell is a diagnostician? Sounds made-up." He says swinging in his chair.

"It’s not. She’s basically someone who find weird diseases and figures out medical mysteries or something like that. I have been warned she's damn smart."

Marshall scoffs mockingly.

"Dr. Henrietta House….."

He hums, "so, she's like Sherlock Holmes but a doc?"

"That's what I'm guessing." Paul gets up from his seat, making to leave. He points towards the phone with the already typed in number. 

"I’m serious. Just apologize. Don’t say anything stupid." With a last look of pleading, Paul leaves.

And all that is left in the room are Eminem and his phone with Dr.Henrietta House's number typed into it.

Eminem grabs the phone, hesitates for only a second, letting his thumb hover on call then presses it. It rings twice until some on the other side picks up.

"If this is another telemarketer, I hope you get a brain-eating amoeba through your Bluetooth."

Oh- that's definitely her. 

Marshall nearly laughs, "Damn. You answer all calls like that?"

"Depends. Are you calling to sell me extended warranty or just to test how far my sarcasm travels?" House says in bored monotone, though she is intrigued as to know who this is.

"Neither. It's me. Marshall."

There is beat of silence, during which House's brain comes up with the ridiculous deduction that it's that Marshall! Ridiculous, really why would he call her? But she listens to her gut nonetheless.

"..Marshall Mathers?" She asks. 

"Yes" he says.

"You mean 'almost flattened me on a Monday'- Marshall? That Marshall?" She knows it him but she just dragging this for fun.

He tries not to laugh or curse, he's somewhere split in between half annoyed and half amused. "The one and only."

"Well. If it isn’t the rap god turned traffic hazard."

"You really just have comebacks loaded all the time, huh?" He muses.

"Comes with the job. Keeps me awake during near-death experiences with conversations moody celebrities." She quips out.

"Look, I was told to call you. So consider this… me doing my legal due diligence." He gets up and moves to the window panes. Nows the part where he's supposed to apologise but Marshall's dragging the moment, even he knows he's dragging. 

House laughs and says,"You sound like a man being held at gunpoint by his publicist."

Marshall smiles and replies, "Almost. Paul was ready to chloroform me and drag me to your doorstep." Marshall feels strangely very comfortable talking to her, he guesses it the mirroring sense of humour.

"Aw, I’m flattered. So what is this? A half-hearted apology? A bribe? You gonna write me into a song or something?" 

Eminem goes silent. Because; wasn't that coming a little too close to the truth? his gaze turns towards the black journal, where the finished song lay. And then he blurts it out like an idiot.

"...Already did."

His declaration is met with a long pause, and then a surprised gasp.

"No way." Her voice sounds so genuinely surprised and excited, he is taken aback by it.

Somehow the genuine excitement in her tone compels him into confessing, "It’s done. Full track. You’re basically a diss track muse now. Congrats, doc."

On the other side of the phone, Henrietta House is gleeful, not something she usually is. A beaming smile splitting her face in two. 

"I inspired Eminem to write a song?well, I'm expecting royalties, Marshall. I inspired art. Pay up." 

He scoffs, "You’re not gettin’ royalties. It's my intellectual property" He states matter-of-factly.

The diagnostician mock gasps, "So I become the muse, but don't even get paid for it? Unfair. But fine, as long as I get to hear it first. For… legal vetting, you know." 

The rapper smirks, "Nice try, but no. it's not something releasable, so no one's going to wanna hear that."

"Why is it terrible? Oh! is it explicit?" Her curiosity only mounts the more he denies her.

"No and no! And your not hearing it."

"Why?! Let me hear it once, I can take it, Shady."

"No... that's not why I'm..."

"Wait, is it smutty?!" She gasps like she's a scandalised catholic grandmother.

For reasons unspecified, Marshall's face heats up. 

"Marshall, did you write dirty poetry about me?"

She just teasing, he knows she's just teasing him into sharing the song with her, but with Marshall's new found understanding of his crush..No..mild attraction to her. He ends up with burning cheeks and rising embarrassment.

"No! Listen, It’s just rage with a beat." 

"Oh, Please. That's literally all of your songs. I'm sure I've been insulted more creatively by interns than whatever you can come up with" And Marshall controls himself from saying something stupid. Who the hell does this woman think she is? He built his whole career with his immaculate talent in insulting and she thinks an intern can beat him.

"Let me guess—it’s called “Caned and Confused”?

Marshall, let's out a long suffering groan and drags his palms over his face.

House leans in to her phone and smiles widely enjoying the game, "You scared it’s not good enough? Or scared I’ll love it?" She continues to goad.

"Neither. I just don't release songs, just because someone's goading me into it." He says calling her out.

House grins and says," Touché. Well, you could let the world hear it. Or hide it forever like a musical diary entry from middle school."

And again, Marshall's eye fall on the black journal. That journal is mocking him with it's existence.

"You know what? Release it. I promise I won’t sue you, even if you rhymed my name with “mouse” or “spouse” or “burned down house.”

"You think reverse-psychology works on me?" He says quietly, slowly coming to a decision he may or may not regret but his publicist most definitely will.

"I think your ego does." She lets out an evil little giggle.

The rain is getting worse, but Marshall's mood isn't that bad now. He actually chuckles chuckles, then groans like she’s right and he knows it. Well, this was gonna be another PR disaster he'll let Paul handle.

"You’re the worst kind of person." Eminem lightly yells into the phone.

"And yet… you’re still on the phone." Sha says and it's almost flirtatious. And Marshall's thinking about a comeback to that..

When...

 She ends the call. Ending the game. Eminem looks at the screen for a moment and he is suddenly very resolved. He makes a call to a sound engineer, an intern that'll be more than willing to come to the studio even in this rain for the honour to work with him and won't tell Paul anything till they're done with recording.

He calls his daughter and makes sure she's ok, and not going out in this weather, then let's her know he might be a little late.

/////

It's 6pm and Eminem's at the mic. He taps it twice, giving the frightened but excited engineer a look. He lets the intern know he's ready.

And that - is how a legendary song is created - didn't even take an hour and Marshall by some crazy stint of luck does get home before 8pm that day.

/// 

It 4 days later, when the song drops. The hype of the cane lady starting to fade out. When Marshall gives the fandom something new to obsess over. The song is fuel to the fire in the fandom disguised as closure.

"Road Rage (Freestyle)" — Eminem

(Beat: Dark bass, eerie keys, tense hi-hats. Shady mode activated.)

[Verse 1]

I was mindin' my biz, windows down, low ridin',

Outta nowhere, she’s limpin’ across like she’s skydivin’.

Slammed the brakes—thought I caught a damn case,

Next thing I know, she’s grillin’ me straight to my face.

Blonde hair, black hoodie, yeah, they knew it was me,

But who the hell’s this chick, stealin’ my steez?

Talkin’ slick, quick wit, like she wrote a whole script,

Never flinched once, not a blink, not a gasp,

Left me starin’ dumb — me, the king of the last laugh.

[Pre-Chorus]

Now the internet's buzzin’, "Yo, Em met his match!"

"She torched his whole soul!" "She broke him in half!"

Man, y'all quick to switch, quick to flip, quick to pick,

Ten seconds flat, y'all jumped ship—y'all fake as shit.

[Chorus]

Oh, now I'm the clown?

Now she's the queen of this goddamn town?

She swung with a cane and took my whole crown?

Congrats, y'all found a new king to put down.

(Nah, keep cheerin’, keep clappin’, I'm laughin’ now.)

[Verse 2]

Y'all talkin’ 'bout "chemistry," talkin’ 'bout "sparks,"

Like it's Netflix -- rom-com in the dark.

She don’t even like me, she roasted my soul,

I don’t need a cane-swingin’ psycho to fill my hole.

Yeah, she clever, yeah, she quick, yeah, she hit where it stings,

But y’all forget — I'm the one who writes kings into kings.

[Bridge]

(Mock voice, sarcastic)

"Eminem’s washed!"

"Eminem’s shook!"

"Cane Lady snatched his ass up like a crook!"

Man, log off, close the goddamn book,

I ain’t dead, just caught off guard by a left hook.

[Chorus]

Oh, now I'm the clown?

Now she's the queen of this goddamn town?

She swung with a cane and took my whole crown?

Congrats, y'all found a new king to put down.

(Nah, keep cheerin’, keep clappin’, I'm laughin’ now.)

[Outro]

Here’s your response, yeah, here’s your closure,

I ain’t sayin

’ her name, but she knows that I wrote this.

I don't do fairytales, I don't do fate,

But I do hold grudges...

And I do write great.

(Beat fades out with a distorted laughter sample, ominous and dark.)

Extra part:(warning: this is just crack, it's not even taken seriously anymore)

(I had a very looong conversation with ChatGTP today and with her help was able to create this:

imagine if Eminem and House started dating. Then, one day, they remember the conversation they had before Eminem dropping "Road Rage(freestyle) and about House casually teasing him about writing a hypothetical dirty song for her and House suddenly dares him to actually write her a spicy rap. Eminem not being outdone actually write it! (Just imagine) 

But you don't have to imagine here's the song: ( credit to ChatGTP)

House Call” — Eminem (NSFW, Smutty Challenge Freestyle)

(Dark, sultry beat. Minimalist bass, distorted heart monitor beeping in the background. Shady’s in seduction mode... with a scalpel.)

[Intro]

Yeah...

You asked for this, Doc. Don’t page me now.

Let’s see how clinical you stay when I flip the script…

[Verse 1]

She walked in like sin wore a lab coat,

Tongue sharp as scalpels, attitude cutthroat.

White coat, black soul, eyes like cyanide,

Talk dirty in Latin—yeah, I damn near died.

She ain’t sweet, she’s surgical, mean with precision,

Diagnosin’ my weakness like it’s a premonition.

She said “strip,” but I swear it wasn’t medical,

Bent over my pride like it’s hypotheticals.

[Hook]

Call me when the lights down low, Doc,

I got a symptom only you unlock.

You don’t need a stethoscope to hear my heart drop,

You need restraints... and maybe a wristwatch.

House call, she don’t even knock,

Storms in like “Whose ego we pop?”

And I’m just a patient tryna play doc,

But I swear she makes dirty feel smart.

[Verse 2]

She said “Open wide,” I said “For what?”

She said “My lecture,” then sat on my gut.

This ain't no nurse fantasy—nah, she's God-tier,

Got me prayin' for mercy in my own career.

Scribblin’ prescriptions on my chest with red ink,

She whispered diagnoses that made me rethink—

Said I got a condition called Talk Too Much,

But she shut me up fast with a bite and a touch.

[Bridge: Spoken Word Style – Mocking Her Voice]

“Oh Marshall, is that performance anxiety?”

Nah, Doc, it’s just awe... at your phD in depravity.

You're so clinical—till you’re not.

Makin’ chaos feel like a goddamn shot.

[Hook – Variation]

Make a house call when you’re bored at night,

I’ll let you break laws, I won’t read your rights.

You wanna play God? I got a body for sin,

Let’s trade blows—then you can write me in.

[Outro]

Yeah…

Consider this your case study,

File it under: “Patient totally undone by authority kink.”

I ain’t cured, Doc.

I’m addicted.

(Beat fades out with the sound of a pen scribbling, followed by Henrietta’s voice --deadpan and smug: “Needs improvement. But I’ll allow it.”)

Marshall and House would both undoubtedly agree to never release this to the public. Never. 

Chapter Text

Marshall was woken up by his daughter shaking him till he blearily opened his eyes.

He smudged the sleep crust off his eyes.

"Dad, wake up. I'm hungry." Said his 8 year old daughter Hailie. 

"Nancy isn't coming to cook today and you said you would make pancakes." She whined loudly and was a little too close to his ears.

Marshall groaned, he didn't wanna get up. He covered his ears with his palms. He tried to burrow himself inside the pillow, but that wasn't gonna work. "Dad, please get up." Hailie started pulling at his arms and sleep shirt.

Eminem sighed at himself. Yeah, sleep time was over. He lamented the loss for a few seconds more before another whine from his daughter forced him to get up.

He smiled at his daughter and gruffly said, "ok, let's get some food in you." 

////

Marshall finds himself whipping up some breakfast for his daughter's Alaine and Hailie.

Both of them excitedly staring at the pancakes fluffing up as they get cooked.

Marshall smiles at the whole domesticity of it all. Glad to finally get the chance to do these things for his kids. He flips over the last pancake and drizzles some maple syrup on it.

"More please." Chirped Alaina. Her request is granted by an unhealthy drollop of maple syrup on her pancakes which she receives with a shining smile.

The kids sit down to watch some cartoons on the couch with their breakfast.

Marshall sighs contently and sits down on a single chair near them with his own plate of pancakes balancing precariously on his thighs.

But, this is where the domestic bliss of this fine morning ends. 

He had just taken a first bite of the pancake when he decided to check his phone while he is eating.

His eyes widen in surprise the moment he sees the lock screen of his phone is covered in texts and notifications.

'what the fu....' he thinks to himself. 

As he scrolls through the notification. Eminem has to gather his courage to open his phone and head into the deep dark pit that is his social media. 

////

It's like an explosion. 

Aesthetic edits!

thirst traps!!!

Comments that were most likely written by the deranged and unsupervised and requiring parental guidance.

Fan edits....

So many of them already,... he's halfway impressed. 

He ends up clicking on one and it's slow-mo animation(they had time to animate?) of House limping away from Em’s car with moody music in the background intercut with his lyrics.

“When your muse roasts you and becomes the moment.” he reads the caption and chokes on his spit. 

Eminem stands up and moves into his bedroom not wanting to curse in front of his kids. He inhales his coffee on his way, cause god knows he's gonna need it. 

In his room, sitting comfortably on his bed, he fully dives into the unholy gathering of delusional idiots online that is tweeter.(X now)

Apparently; stan accounts have emerged, it's like these accounts were always here 

@ShadyxCaneLady, @CaneQueen @RealCanelady1 @Em'sfuturecanewife

Marshall finds himself set up on an emotional rollercoaster as he reads through the junk, the word vomits and hottakes and delulu shit his fans have commenting and feels a wide ...very wide array of emotions.

He laughs till he cries 

He cackles maniacally.

He takes offence.

He feels satisfied.

He finds himself introspecting- a rare phenomenon when not writing.

There are a lot of comments but here's a select few of those pesky unhelpful annecdotes. 

@way2muchcaffiene:

“She diagnosed his heart and broke it.”

@slitherinb:

“Where do I apply to be emotionally abused by her?”

@kiwi_hehe:

"She didn’t just cross the street. She walked into his psyche rent-free, stole the mic, and billed his ego.”

@rap_or_die:

"The way Em said “I don’t do fairytales” but wrote a 3-minute monologue about a woman with a cane who humbled his entire being… sir."

@aww_wilson:

"Genuinely one of the most layered Eminem tracks in years. Rage, shame, attraction, wounded ego" 

@theavengerofcake:

"Plot twist: She releases a verse replying with even less emotion and Em proposes on the spot."

@racconsR_us:

Raise your hand if you're now fully invested in this chaotic anti-romance.

(✋✋✋✋✋)

@emstherapyjournal:

“This isn’t a diss, it’s a love letter written in fire and sarcasm.”

Honestly the best review I’ve ever heard.

@drhouselocked

She doesn’t even need to respond. Her existence already out-barred him.

@kanyemademedoit

Em really said “I don’t need her” 5 times while describing her in detail like a heartbroken English major.

@theshipthatshouldntfloat

If this isn’t a real life enemies-to-lovers I’m throwing my Spotify into a volcano.

@rapgodfangirl

That “I ain’t sayin’ her name but she knows that I wrote this” line? That’s heartbreak in an alleyway behind a Wendy’s.

@sippinteaform

Eminem clowned by a woman with a cane and turned it into a Greek tragedy and I’m HERE for it.

Hashtags are trending...

#CaneLady, #RoadRageFreestyle, #MarshallGotDiagnosed, #ShadyHouse

A wild think piece emerges:-

 “What Does It Say About Us That We’re Shipping a World-Famous Rapper and a Maybe Doctor He Nearly Ran Over?”

////

Em decides why stop his exploration of the wilds of tweeter and flips himself into the black hole of Reddit.

Reddit...he realises offers it's own variety of psycos.

Deep dives, conspiracy theorist and unhinged fanfiction( what the fuck!! There's fanfiction!", yells Eminem to no one )

We head to ....r/hiphop, a magical land of music enthusiasts any other time but it today it holding debate arenas.

//

“Is this Eminem’s Petty Era? And why does it slap?” 

"I don't feel this girl is good for him, but the beat slaps" 

    Reply :"I the first half disagree to the rest. Believe in the love bro, BELIEVE!!!"

“you think she gonna say something, comment on it or something?Ik I would!"

"So...we gonna find this girl or not? I'll can talk to my friends at 4 Chan 

   Reply: woah bruh! Idt that's a good idea! I'm. pretty sure it's kinda illegal.

   Reply: Woo!!! that is a great idea.

r/FanTheories; a land of the unhinged, where you'll find ... The mentally unhinged!

 “What if she isn’t real? What if she's an actor and all of this is just a scam to get attention?”

   Reply:"You think, Em would need to do something so low for attention?!"

"Guys, what if she's planned this? What if she's a crazy fan? A real life Stan?"

"What if she was hired from the government? Cause yk of that time Em got himself under the secret services radar?!"

   Reply: "mind if i steal that idea for ff?"

This cue of theories goes on...each one getting more unhinged than the the previous one, until you eventually get to - "hey.. WGAT IF SHE'S AN ALIEN! " 

For some reason, the comments always return to the alien thing.

///

Fanfic exploding on AO3 and Wattpad:('how do they even have time for this shit?' Marshall thought as his thumb hovered over one fanfic title. He decided not to indulge himself on this section of the madness pool.)

He eyes do a courtesy scan of the page and promptly leave.

“Under the Scalpel of Love”

“Diagnosing Slim Shady”

“Cane, Microphone, Chaos”

////

He ventured off into YouTube.

And there was the same shit here just with more elaboration...

Edits, more edits.

Reactions vids,('seriously' he rolled his eyes but this was expected.) He laughed at the titles.

"Did Eminem Just Fall for the Queen of Sarcasm?”

“Eminem’s Best Diss Track... or Unexpected Love Letter?”

Lyrical breakdowns!!!

'wait! This shit gets lyrical breakdowns?'

Eminem's jaw slackened at the absurdity his fans were treating this like this song was the key to his psyche. Like it was anything more than a whim he ended up being goaded into chasing.

“Psychological Breakdown of Road Rage (feat. Cane Lady)” He feels tempted and clicks on it ; leaves immediately when the shrink starts by saying saying "So let’s talk about projection, boys and girls…”

He is not projecting! No. Thank you very much, 

There's a tiktok trend!

Duets with dramatic readings of the line

 “I don’t need a cane-swingin’ psycho to fill my hole."~

Marshall deadpans. The song was supposed to be closure, but why does he feels he just fanned a fire into a raging brushfire that's gonna stick around forever. He drags his palms through his face. And looks tired. 

"What the fuck have I done?" 

He eats his cold pancakes and thinks to himself. 'At least the songs a hit.' He shrugs. 

Paul's call lights up his screen just as he locks it to put it down. He purses his lips and fails at not cringing. 

Yeah... He's not feeling up to handling irritated Paul today. Silencing his phone, he practically runs out the room.

 He goes back to the living room and catches the tail end of 'Shrek', he listens to his kids laughing and lets the world fuck off.

3 days later~

Article headlines;

"Eminem’s Mystery Muse: Who is she and Why Did She Break the Internet?"

“13 Times the ‘Cane Lady’ Made Us Believe in Enemies-to-Lovers"

“When Diss Tracks Become Courtship: The Cultural Whiplash of Hip-Hop Romance" 

It seemed everyone loved ridding the wave of a new trend it seems. 

Eminem’s sales spike.The only silver lining.Paul is both angry at him and happy at the money. He has been ordered to neither confirm or deny any romance, by his publicist (he keeps forgetting that guys name)

Everyone wants to find out who this cane lady is.

The world ain't letting it go.

He has decided to let it go. Marshall has had to stop himself too many times in the last few days from texting or calling House. 

He really wants to know what she thought of the song. Did she like it? Hate it?

He wonders what kind of a smart ass response he'll get if he just called her and asked. He finds himself wanting.. really wanting (yearning one may call it) to hear there response. 

He itches his ear, cheeks catching heat. 'Crushes are for stupid teenagers, control yourself, you shithead' he thinks to himself.

He scrolls through his phone and it's like the universe is messing with him.

It's her. It's House. She texted!

His hand moves lighting fast. He opens the text and what he reads makes him go still. 

'oh fuck! I'm gonna have to explain this to Paul!'