Chapter 4
I'm a Believer
House slouched into the overstuffed chair across from the one that Nolan usually occupied. He waited while Nolan went to take care of a problem with a patient in one of the wards. He could feel that she was in the room hovering. Looking around, House sighed; the woman was sitting on the edge of Nolan's desk.
"You shouldn't do this. He's going to think you're hallucinating and want to admit you into the loony bin. You'll lose your license again."
"I should lose it if I'm hallucinating. And why am I talking to a ghost?"
"Temporary Displaced Life, TDL."
"I can't keep calling my hallucination, 'TDL', what's your name?"
"Annie Weatherly, but my maiden name was Quinn."
"You were married?"
"Yes."
"What happened to—"
"House? Who are you talking to?" Nolan asked.
House sat up and looked behind him. Nolan's hand was still on the doorknob, but he quickly entered and closed the door behind him.
"Apparently my hallucination is named Annie Weatherly."
"Really? What does she look like?"
He stared at Annie as he described her. "Short, petite, moderate sized perky rack, blond hair, opinionated— I wouldn't kick her out of bed, but if I'm hallucinating, I wish I had chosen a tall dark haired Brazillian."
"Opinionated?"
"Doesn't think I should be with Cuddy; doesn't think I should tell you about her because you'll yank my license."
"Really? Hmmm, if she is a hallucination, then that means you're having doubts about Cuddy. Want to talk about it?"
"I want to talk about the hallucination."
"We aren't sure it is a hallucination yet. It may just be a device you've made up to have a verbal conversation over what you're feeling."
"Well, I wish it would shut up." House paused and looked directly into Nolan's eyes, his face showing the concern he had. "Doc, if I am hallucinating, what's next?"
"We admit you for some intensive therapy…find out what caused this break. It obviously wasn't drugs. It would mean you're experiencing something we haven't dealt with yet."
"Schizophrenia?"
"Perhaps, but you're late even for late onset schizophrenia."
"Maybe drug induced?"
"I take it that you really believe this is a hallucination?"
House grimaced, but nodded.
Annie screamed. "Ahhh! I can't believe you're doing this. He's going to commit you if you don't tell him you're joking."
House ignored her, discussing their previous conversations while Nolan nodded that he understood.
Annie had been running around the room, making faces, screaming at House, even pretending to give Nolan a lap dance. Finally she sat on the desk and sighed heavily. "Fine. I'm going to have to let him in on our little secret because I'm not going back into that loony bin. I hated it! The Guardian Angels in there are nuts...they never get to go anywhere so they play horrible pranks on the newbies...and that was me."
In order to see her, House had to stick his head out to look behind Nolan.
Nolan turned around and followed House's visual line. "Are you hearing something?"
"She claims she's going to have to prove to you that she's really a ghost and that she really exists."
"TDL!" Annie barked. "I'm a TDL...can't you get that straight?"
He refused to correct himself.
"So, this hallucination thinks she can convince me that she really exists?"
House closed his eyes and nodded, knowing how stupid it sounded. "Annie, what are you doing?"
Nolan looked at House as he appeared to be talking at someone. Nolan's face clearly showed the concern he had for his patient.
"I'm talking to Nolan's guardian angel to get some info," Annie said.
"Well?" Nolan asked.
"She's talking to your guardian angel to get some information about you."
"Really? So she's a guardian angel?"
"No, she's a temporarily displaced life…someone who died prematurely. Apparently she gets a do over, but she has to wait for the right opportunity to live again."
"I see." But House could tell that Nolan was humoring him for now.
Annie walked up behind Nolan and blew directly on his neck. Nolan jumped and turned around, putting his hand up to his neck. When he saw nothing, he settled back down in his chair.
House pointed at his neck. "She did that—blew on your neck."
"Tell him that when he was 14, he had sex for the first time with Sheila Groveland."
House took a deep breath. "You had sex for the first time when you were 14. It was with some girl named Sheila."
"Groveland." Annie corrected.
"She said Sheila's last name was Groveland."
Nolan's expression froze, he could say nothing.
"See, he's stunned." Annie said, now walking around the chair and putting her face in Nolan's. "Now tell him that he once broke into his neighbor's house and stole their portable record player. He felt guilty for years and when he was twenty-one he bought them a very nice stereo and left it on their doorstep."
"Okay, please don't kill the messenger, but she claims you stole a portable record player from your neighbors and returned a nicer one when you were twenty-one."
There was an audible gasp just before Nolan slammed back into his chair, hand to mouth. "How did you find those things out?"
"Annie told me." House said.
"House, I know you. You have investigators who work for you. You could—"
Annie moaned with frustration. "Fine, he's not going to believe unless I do something physical. Here goes. This is going to take a lot out of me." With that she swiped her hand across the table next to Nolan and the mug he had been drinking from flew in a wide arc across the room, smashing with a loud explosive crash against the wall. Nolan jumped up and looked around, eyes like saucers.
House had a similar reaction but he stayed seated. All of a sudden House's hallucination seemed very real and his whole world as he knew it was swirling in doubt. He swallowed hard and croaked, "Please tell me that you didn't sleep with Sheila and you didn't steal a portable record player."
"Where is this ghost of yours now?"
"Right next to you."
Nolan scrambled through the seating area and across the room away from Annie. He quickly realized how foolish he looked. Swallowing hard he saw that House was both concerned and amused.
"You've got to be kidding. You mean those things really happened?" House asked, praying Nolan would start laughing and stating it was all a practical joke.
Nolan nodded, still looking around the room. "And I didn't knock that mug off the table."
House turned and looked at Annie, who looked very smug.
"Ask him if he needs further proof," she chirped.
"Annie wants to know if you need further proof?"
Nolan was wrestling with his own skepticism. The more he thought, the more he tried to rationalize what had just happened.
"I guess he does." Annie said. "This is going to completely wipe me out, but here goes." She took a pen off the table and carried it slowly across the room towards him. To House he could see her carrying it. To Nolan it looked like the pen was floating in the air towards him. She stopped and held the pen up for him to take.
Nolan stared at the pen, his palms clammy, his forehead breaking out in beads of sweat.
"Is he going to take it? It's taking a lot of my energy to keep this in the air."
"She wants you to take it." House said.
Nolan nodded and took the pen.
Annie turned to House and grinned. "If you guys want to continue to function as professionals, I suggest that you agree that this session never happened and all inferences that you were hallucinating be erased from any records or memos."
House turned to Nolan. "She says we should bury this."
Nolan nodded again. "I'd have to agree. No one would ever believe us."
"Just so I've got this straight, I'm not hallucinating?"
"If you are, then so am I. Joint hallucinations don't happen."
House stared at Annie, his stomach doing flip flops, the hair on the back of his neck raised.
Annie shrugged. "Can we go now?"
"I guess." He whispered.
"What?" Nolan asked.
"She wants to go."
Nolan's head bobbed up and down like a dashboard Jesus. "That would be good. I need some time to get myself together."
"Okay. By the way, you know burglary is a felony."
"My neighbors knew I took their stereo. The next day they kept hearing soul music from my bedroom. They mentioned the music to me, but didn't say anything about the record player. When I left the stereo on their doorstep they thanked me the next time I was home from college. Can you ask her whatever happened to Sheila?"
"She's living in New York, weighs 300 lbs and is the single mother of four children, none old enough to be his." Annie said.
"You don't want to know." House said.
Nolan motioned that he understood.
House stood up and headed for the door, grabbed the door knob and said, "I think we're screwed."
Nolan sighed. "Yeah, I'm going to be processing this for quite awhile. If you need to talk about it; call me."
"Okay." House left, but he felt like he was in a surreal world, everything he thought was concrete was now swamp under his feet.
Annie was sitting in the car waiting for him to open his door. He hesitated but knew he had no choice; if what she said was true, they were going to be together for a long time. Opening the door he climbed in and started the car.
"Well, are you going to thank me?"
"For destroying everything I believed in?" House asked.
"You mean for destroying everything you didn't believe in? Does it really bother you that much that there is something beyond this existence?"
"Yes."
"Why? Most people are relieved to find out."
"I'm not; now I have to completely rethink everything."
"Oh, come on Greg, we both know you'll deal with it in your own fashion. You'll get your drink on, play some Crossroads and get a massage with a happy ending."
House started laughing. "I just realized that you know me better than anyone else in my life. You've seen me in all my different incarnations."
"I guess I have. Do you have any questions that you want answered?"
"Why can't I normally see you?"
"We're on a spectral frequency that isn't in tune with the average person. But occasionally when we've been with someone for a long time, the frequencies start to tighten and bam they can see us. You've seen me before, but you dismissed it as just something in your eye."
"When?"
"When you were still with Stacy."
"In the bedroom that night when I was in so much pain? I got up to go to the bathroom and saw something."
"You had just been released from the rehabilitation facility after the infarction."
"I remember it. I thought it was the drugs."
"Yeah, but your drugs had worn off which is why you were in so much pain."
He snickered to himself. "I wouldn't have believed it back then anyway."
"After Stacy left you took so much Vicodin that you wouldn't have seen me even if I had lowered myself down to your frequency."
"Oh, this is way too bizarre."
"Yeah, imagine waking up after dying to find out that you're now the invisible companion of a baby boy while you wait for your new body. Look, I had to help you out back there with Nolan because you're not supposed to go back into Mayfield, but I'm not your trained dog. I'm not going to do parlor tricks for your friends just so they believe you when you have to explain why you're talking to thin air. Understand?"
"You're a pistol, aren't you?"
"I'm no shrinking violet."
"So Annie, you died on the operating table?"
"Uh-huh."
"What was wrong with you?"
"My lungs were punctured from the seven inch blade my husband rammed through my back."
"With your mouth, it makes sense." House looked over at her. "Come on…you can't stop there."
"Watch the road; you're going to get you killed. Why are you going this way?"
"Joe Canal's Discount Liquor Barn is this way. Best prices on all the best whiskeys."
House parked and then walked into the large outlet grabbing a shopping cart. He pulled several different bottles of whiskey off the shelf and put them in the cart while Annie floated over him. He looked up. "Make yourself useful, find the Tanqueray Ten."
"Are you going on one of your gin and tonic sprees?"
"I just like a good one sometimes."
She looked down and then called out, "I see a sign that says gins are on aisle 5."
House headed towards aisle 5. "Hmmm, you could come in handy."
"I don't fetch and carry."
"Yeah, how does that work?" House cruised down the gin aisle and debated on whether he should buy the Tanqueray or Bombay Saphire. He grabbed the Tanqueray as a customer who had watched him walk down the aisle talking to the ceiling, dodged around him and scurried down the aisle.
"What work?"
"The physical world. Can you touch things?"
"We can manipulate the physical world like I did with Nolan, but it takes a lot of energy. I can move things, but depending on what I do, I don't have energy to do much more. I have to rest."
"Ghosts have to rest?"
She disappeared.
"Where did you go?" House looked around, but there was no one.
The manager watched the scruffy man with the grocery cart full of whiskey and gin talking to the air. He called the front clerk, "You've got a schizo on aisle 5, just be careful."
There was no response to House constantly calling her name. "Fine, be that way." He paused. "You're pissed because I called you a ghost. Okay, okay. Do TDLs rest?"
She reappeared. "Not like you do. We always have enough energy to follow our charges, but we may not have enough energy to do anything for them if they need us so we usually recharge our batteries when you're asleep."
"How?"
"We rest by just closing our eyes or by talking to other TDLs and not doing anything related to our charge. We detach ourselves from your world." She watched as he loaded the car with the alcohol and they began their journey back to the apartment.
"What if my world catches fire?"
"Well, we might notice and we might have some energy to give you a nudge to get out of bed or we may not…it all depends. Anytime we have to cross into your world to do something for you it takes a lot out of us."
"So? You're already dead, what's the problem with that?"
"Actually, if we constantly have to do something extraordinary in your world we can lose too much energy to function as a TDL. It means we're replaced and we don't have the energy for our transfer to the new body…we lose our chance to live again."
"Bummer."
"Yeah, bummer."
"Why would a TDL take that chance?"
"They become so attached to their charge that they risk everything to save them from some fate. I've only known of four cases personally, but their souls go to the next dimension without finishing their lives on earth. It's sad because without finishing your life on earth, you don't have all the tools you need for your next plane of existence."
There was a serious eye roll on House's part. "What tools do you need for the next plane?"
"Yeah, yeah you can be sarcastic, but wait until you have to go over."
"I just want to know what tools I'll need."
"Each person needs different ones, depending on their personalities so we 're not sure exactly what's needed; we just know that you have to experience your whole life on earth before moving on. Sometimes, Greg, you just have to have faith."
House stuck his finger in his mouth and pretended to gag.
"Fine, don't have faith, just finish out your life on Earth."
"When am I supposed to die?"
Annie laughed. "I don't know! They don't give us that information because it can change."
"People do stupid things all the time that get them killed. Where were their guardian angels?"
Annie was glad that they were home; it meant he'd start drinking and playing piano and she could take a break from his incessant curiosity. "We can whisper in your ear, drop a thought, give you that nudge, make the right document appear, even change a traffic light, but you have free will and you'd be surprised how often we're ignored. But, we try and usually we manage to avert some emotional or physical disaster."
"You're not very good at your job." House said with deep resentment.
"What? How dare—"
"I've had a crappy childhood, a disastrous love life and an infarction that wouldn't have resulted in muscle death if it had been diagnosed properly. Because of that infarction I've become an addict and had to be hospitalized for a psychotic break with reality. Where the hell were you?" House grumbled as he got out of the car, fishing the bag of booze from the back seat.
Floating next to him as he unlocked the door to the apartment, Annie answered him, "I was the one begging you not to rub your knowledge of your real father in John House's nose, but no, you had to point it out to him when you were twelve and then you wonder why you two drifted apart and your childhood went in the crapper."
"I was just twelve! He was an adult."
"Oh Gregster, you may act like a teenager, but you've never been just twelve. You've always known exactly what emotional buttons to push in people and you loved pushing this one. You were pissed at him for going on a mission when you wanted him to go with you on the Scouts' father and son camp out. So you punished him by rubbing it in that he wasn't your real dad, which of course just drove home how your mother had been unfaithful to him. Your little stunt not only drove a wedge between the two of you, it drove a wedge between them. It wasn't until you left the nest that they were able to rebuild their relationship. You don't know the effect you have sometimes…the repercussions you don't see from what you do and say. But, I do."
House had poured a single malt and was reclining back in the leather chair, his feet up on the ottoman. "Yeah, well what about the infarction?"
"You remember when you finally couldn't take it and Stacy called the ambulance? The ambulance driver was taking you back to PPTH and then he made the wrong turn towards Princeton General. That was me. But, no, you insisted on going to PPTH, so he made the U turn and you ended up there."
"Princeton General? You wanted me to go to crappy Princeton General?"
"Oscar Weinberg was on duty in the ER at Princeton General." Her voice grew quieter, "He'd just spent two years on a Fellowship working on a protocol to treat diabetes—"
House shook his head and snorted. "Most leg infarctions are caused by diabetes, he would have recognized it as an infarction and it would have been treated right away rather than two days later."
Annie could see the sadness in his eyes and she felt for him. She nodded.
"Fuck."
"Yeah, FUBAR. I tried, I tried screaming at you, but you were in so much pain, you couldn't hear me."
He smiled at her use of military slang. Closing his eyes, House thought about all the pain in his life and how all the various choices he made had led him to this point in his life.
She wanted to help him, but there was nothing she could do or say. "Play for me, Gregster."
House opened an eye and looked at her. "Why are you calling me that? My friends used to call me that."
"Yeah, your elementary school buddies, Mark and Chuck."
He grinned. "God, I had forgotten about Chuck. He was hilarious, terrible coordination, always falling all over himself. What does he do now?"
"He's a chemist for Pfizer."
"I'll be damn!" House thought for a minute. "Well? What do you want me to play?"
"Play the piano for me. I want to hear some old forties tunes."
"Forties?"
"I was in my twenties when the war was on. It's the music I fell in love to."
"You were telling me how you died."
"My husband stabbed me in the back puncturing my lungs. Just when they were going to re-inflate them on the operating table the electricity went out and I coded. I was supposed to live."
"What happened to your husband?"
"They convicted him on voluntary manslaughter. He went to prison and died two years later, a year before he would have been released."
"If you hadn't died, he wouldn't have gone to prison and he wouldn't have died prematurely?"
"No, he died of an aneurism. He would have died anyway. There were no do-overs for him."
"So you died because you were too stupid to get away from a raging lunatic?"
"I had a restraining order and we moved several times, but he always found us. Back then domestic violence wasn't taken seriously. The phone company gave out my private number and address as soon as he told them we were married. I can't tell you the number of migraines I got because of the stress of staying out of his reach."
"We?"
"We, what?"
"You said, 'we moved', who's we?"
"My son. He was eleven when I was murdered. He went to live with my sister."
"So where is he now? Do you haunt him and his family? Is he some middle aged insurance broker living in Los Angeles?"
"He died in Viet Nam in 1968."
House looked away, unable to face her.
"It's okay. It's been forty-three years now. I've accepted it."
"Did he have any kids when he died?"
"No, no grandkids."
"God, this is depressing."
"Play for me."
"What would you like to hear?"
"Harbor Lights."
House stood up, took his drink to the piano and began to play, the soft sound of Harbor Lights flowing through the air and bringing a smile to both of their faces.
"I love it when you play."
House paused, shook his head as if he still didn't believe this and began playing again. "Do you play?"
"I did."
"Were you good?"
She grinned. "Better than you!"
House stuck his tongue out at her but continued to play old forties' tunes.
Dear Readers,
I'm having trouble with document manager. It won't let me edit or see my post so that I can information or a salutation to you. I'm doing this on the original document in my word processor. It's absolutely annoying because the chapter has uploaded, the fanfic program just won't let me view it before I post it.
I wanted to thank you for leaving reviews. Reviews give us feedback and encouragement. I appreciate all of them. Thanks, Kim