Curiouser and Curiouser
Rating: PG-13/T
Genre: General/Drama/Humor
Summary: Crossover with House MD. House is accustomed to strange patients in the clinic, but this is his first creepy kid. Mild, mild, ever-so-mild S7 spoilers for Supernatural.
Author's Note: YESH, I do so love writing the leviathans. Edgar is just a big bag of WIN, and Annie- I love writing creepy kids. It's fun. :D
Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. It belongs to Eric Kripke. House MD belongs to somebody, but I usually just say FOX.
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Little kids are creepy.
That was the only sentiment in House's head as he observed the little girl before him. Her father was standing to the side, arms crossed, expressionless as rock. Yeah, he was pretty creepy too, but the little girl was freakier. For some reason, innocence mixed with what felt like evil was always creepier.
"So," House said dryly. "What seems to be the problem?" Other than the fact that I'm working the clinic on a Saturday?
"My daughter," The man rumbled, slowly interrupting the little girl as she moved to open her mouth. "She hasn't been feeling well."
"Oh really? And what do you mean by 'not feeling well'? The kind of not-feeling-well that entails copious vomiting and high fevers, or the not-feeling-well that involves feeling like you're hacking your own lung out?"
The man looked at the girl, prompting her, and she promptly turned to House. Something about the way, the physical way she turned her head so perfunctory and neatly, made him shiver. Kids were freaking creepy.
"The first kind." She said sweetly, completely undermining her claim. She didn't look half as miserable as she should.
"Well-" House looked down at the chart. The girl's name was 'Annie'- Her father was 'Edgar'. "Annie. Could you elaborate a bit?"
"My stomach hurts," She sounded so unbelievably insincere. House wondered if this was what Cuddy saw when he was lying to her face. "And I was vomiting."
"Was."
"Yes."
"Are you still?"
"Not right now."
"Do you feel sick?"
Annie thought about that for a moment. "…Yes."
House looked away for a minute and rolled his eyes. "Are you sure about that?"
"Yes. What kind of doctor are you?" It was an innocent inquiry, not the usual accusing tone he usually heard when someone was asking him that question.
"A diagnostician."
"What's that?"
"I figure out what's wrong with people. Does she have a fever?" Edgar looked slightly caught off guard.
"She did."
"When did you last check?" Edgar shifted a bit.
"Last night."
He was lying. But oh well: It wasn't House's kid. It wasn't on him if her head or stomach exploded and she died; hell, he'd have a chance to solve a case post-mortem.
That sounded really bad in his head.
He hobbled to the counter and fished around for the thermometer, flipping it on and almost jamming it into Annie's mouth. She didn't seem bothered. Neither did Edgar, for that matter, which was suspicious on the grounds that parents usually got twice as pissy as their kids did when the doctor was rude.
What was more was that Edgar did not seem to be overly concerned about his daughter's supposed illness (possibly indicating that there wasn't one). Most parents were offering up every ounce of information they could to help with a diagnosis, more often than not to the point where House would actually tell them to shut up.
The thermometer beeped, and House just as bluntly tugged the thermometer out again. It read 99.2 degrees. "Hm."
"Hm?" Annie repeated.
"Slightly over normal. If you had a fever last night that probably means it went down. You'll be fine."
"You're certain?" Edgar remarked. Curiously, he shot a sudden, sharp glance at his daughter and House could not make heads or tails of it.
"Well, let's double check." House turned back to Annie. "What've you eaten in the last twenty-four hours?"
Annie's smirk freaked him out.
"A hamburger, bacon, chips, a sandwich and some pie." And didn't that sound rehearsed. And then, out of the blue, "Is it true that surgeons can cut open bodies and take out any organs they want?" Edgar's head whipped towards Annie so quickly House was fairly certain he heard the man's neck crack.
"Annie." There was no amusement in his voice.
"I was just asking." She shrugged, completely untroubled by her father's 'kid-don't-screw-with-me' voice. She reminded House of that little girl from 'The Bad Seed'; had any doctors ended up dead in that?
"Sure, but the paperwork isn't worth it." House supplied dryly. "Congratulations, you probably had mild food poisoning. You'll live. And when you get home, throw out any meat that's beyond the expiration date. Check out at the desk." He left the room at a bit of a brisker pace than usual, though his expression remained as unaffected as ever.
Kids were freaky.
The young woman behind the desk smiled at Annie, who offered a charming little-girl smile back, and checked them out. They started out the door; their voices drifted back to her, but she barely took notice of them.
"..supposed to be more subtle."
"How was I supposed to ask something like that subtly? He wasn't very chatty, and this form allows me to be a little blunter than you."
"We looked suspicious, and now we need to…"
-End