Maggie's Story Chapter 7 Part 2
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"You don't have to do my homework."
"It's child's play. You can review it later." House put the pencil down, "When does Tom get in?"
Maggie looked at the clock on the wall, "He should be arriving right now…probably picking up his luggage."
House laughed, "Damn, I forgot how easy this year was. Wait until fourth year, you'll be down at the hospital every night begging for my help."
"Greg, how do I look?"
"Like you went ten rounds with Mike Tyson and he won."
Maggie grimaced, "I had hoped that after a week, I'd look more presentable."
Greg shook his head and snickered, "I wouldn't mess with you. I'd be afraid of shaking something loose."
She gave him a curled up snarl. Over the next hour Maggie became increasingly anxious and nervous. House tried to calm her down by making her "help" him with her homework. After another hour went by, she made House check to see if the plane had landed. He called the airlines and then came back to the living room.
"It was on time."
Maggie grabbed his hands and with a frantic look begged him, "Call Theresa and see if she's heard from Jack."
House debated whether or not he should do it, but decided that if he didn't, she'd hound him until he did. He talked to Theresa for a few minutes and hung up.
"Theresa says that Jack and Tom went to Cavanaughs. I guess, Tom needed a drink. They'll be home later."
"A drink? Oh Christ, that means Jack told him; I wanted to be the one." Maggie put her head back on the arm of the couch and closed her eyes. She got up and slowly climbed the stairs.
"Hey! Where are you going?"
"He won't be home for awhile, not until he's good and drunk. I'm going to bed."
Maggie was right. Tom hadn't arrived when House left for his shift. When House turned up in the morning, Tom was on the couch sleeping off a night of drinking, smelling pretty rancid. House
grabbed some water and took it up to Maggie. Opening the door he could see that her crying had started the bleeding in her nose all over again. There was blood all over towels, sheets and pillows.
"Damn it Maggie, this is the last time I pack your nose for you."
He helped Maggie clean up and then went to bed to get some sleep. When he woke up, Tom was gone and Maggie was prostrate on her bed, blood everywhere. Her eyes redder than they had ever been. House went over to the bed and sat down on the edge, but Maggie wouldn't look at him.
After a few minutes of silence she looked at him, "I want to die."
"That's not funny. Don't say crap like that. What happened?"
She rolled over away from him.
"Come on Maggie, what happened?"
She refused to roll back over, "He's sorry about what happened to me and he knows this is lousy timing, but he had come home to tell me he's met someone else and he needs to see if he can make it work with her. If not, maybe we can give it another shot." She had to stop, the sobbing had taken over, "Oh, and he wanted his ring back so he could get a refund. The jewelry store said they'd give him 90 of the purchase price."
House was furious. Even he wasn't that callous. He was pretty sure that if he saw Tom, he'd throttle him. "What did Jack have to say?"
"He already knew. Tom had told him a month ago. Jack tried to convince him not to do it right now, not to tell me. But Tom was right, I already knew something was up. It would have been torture to postpone it."
"Maggie, it's his loss. You didn't want to marry him any way. He's milk toast to your hot tamale. He wouldn't have appreciated you."
She turned her head, looking over her shoulder, "How the fuck would you know? You met him for what, five seconds?"
"I heard from others. Actions speak louder than words. I'd be back here as often as I could afford it if I loved you."
"Well, be grateful you don't love me. I'm damaged goods. Not fit for good Catholic boys."
House rolled his eyes, "You can't really believe that. Look, let me go get your homework and we can finish it up."
"Don't bother. I'm quitting. I've decided to take a job with the school. This was always just a pipedream and I'm out of steam."
House pulled on her shoulder to make her look at him, "You're depressed. Let me call Meggie or Theresa or Erin. "
"I don't need a babysitter, I need a sharp razor blade."
House clenched his jaw, "You and I both know you've got too much piss and vinegar to off yourself. So don't try to elicit my sympathy by feigning suicide ideation. Besides, suicide is a Mortal sin."
She furred her brow, amazed at the audacity he had to call her bluff. But he was right. She felt like crap, but she wasn't about to kill herself. Suicide was a Mortal sin.
"As for med school. You aren't quitting that either and we both know that. I'm not buying it for one minute. Now get your ass out of bed, we've got to get rid of the blood on your bed or everyone's going to think I tried to murder you…which right now, I feel like it. I hate self-flagellation."
House was glad that he had the next thirty-six hours off. After cleaning her up and packing her nose, again, she refused to get out of bed, read, watch television or do homework. House removed her pain meds when he found out that she was taking her doses more often than prescribed.
Prescription bottle in hand he turned to her, "You can ask me for them if the pain gets too much."
She sat up for the first time in twenty-four hours, "Give them back! They're mine, you 're not my mother!"
"No, but if she were alive, do you think she'd do anything different?"
"Fuck you."
"That's more like it. I like angry Maggie better than self-pitying Maggie."
"Well then, make yourself useful. I'm hungry, fix me some food."
He did a quick sailor-like shuffle, "You're injured, not disabled, get that little ass of yours downstairs and make me dinner."
Her mouth dropped, "I cleaned shit from your ass crack and you won't even get me dinner?"
"Bummer, huh?"
The pillow sailed across the room at him. Crawling to the edge, she tried to reach out and grab the meds from his hand, but he jumped back a few feet, leaving her grasping at air.
"Come on Maggie, you didn't really expect me to wait on you? I picked this house because I knew if I rented from a woman, the place would stay clean and I'd get the occasional meal. Women are so predictable."
Maggie jumped up and, holding her side, started to chase him. He ran down the steps, noting that she had picked up one of her textbooks and was planning to use it as a missile. House ducked behind the kitchen door and when Maggie waddled through, he grabbed the book from her hand.
He pointed to the breakfast bar, "Now, sit down and I'll fix you something to eat."
She looked at him, pissed that he had manage to get her out of her bed. She stuck her nose in the air and sat down. Pulling out some eggs, scrapple and bread, he took out a skillet. As he cooked, he danced and made funny faces, breaking down all of Maggie's resolve to stay stoic. She took her spoon, stuck it in the jam and catapulted it at him during one of his crazy antics.
"Oh ho Maggie Malone, you don't want to pick a food fight with me! I'm taller, stronger and more handsome. I'll beat you on principle alone." He took an egg out of the refrigerator and pretended to aim it at her.
"You better not!" She warned.
He couldn't aim at her face, it was being held together by patches, bandages and bailing wire. He walked over, bent down and looked into her eyes. His long arm reached up and smashed the egg into her hair.
"Ah, Jesus Christ Greg! It's all over me!"
"Now…eat up and I'll get the egg off your face…I mean out of your hair."
Maggie pouted, angry that he had called her bluff and she had no way to get him back. After breakfast, Greg came down with shampoo, conditioner and a towel. He took a stool over to the sink and with the towel draped over his arm like a waiter, pointed to the chair for her to sit. Maggie perched herself on the stool as House bent her gently back under the kitchen sink's hand hose. He shampooed her hair, sat her up, applied the condition and then stood in front of her, looking at his handiwork. After a minute, he rinsed the conditioner.
"Here, now dry your hair a little, I'll be back."
Maggie could hear water running in the bathtub. Within a few minutes House reappeared, "Your bath is ready, Ma'am."
Maggie tried not to laugh or smile, but it was impossible. She followed him upstairs and saw the bath, complete with bath oils and a towel sitting on top of the toilet lid.
"When Ma'am requires someone to dry and pat her down, she need only call."
"You wish!"
He left her and went in to change her sheets again. When she came out, the bed was made.
She looked at House, "I think I'll go downstairs and watch a little television, maybe do some homework."
House did a little dance and disappeared downstairs so that she could get dressed. Instead of pajamas, Maggie put on sweat pants and a long sleeved t-shirt. House thought this was a good sign. They spent the day and night talking, watching videos and doing homework. House ordered pizza which Maggie gobbled up. When the clock turned eight, Maggie stood up.
"I'm feeling tired. Thanks Greg…for everything."
"Goodnight Mags, sleep tight."
She nodded and went up the stairs. House watched a little more television while he read one of his journals. When he went to the bathroom, he stuck his head in to check on Maggie. The room was dark, but he could hear sniffling. He opened the door.
"Damn it Maggie, if you've got blood on those sheets, I'll give you another bloody nose." He turned on the light, but there was no blood, just red eyes and tears still running down her cheek. "I didn't know any person could cry as much as you do."
He went to the bathroom and when he reappeared in Maggie's room, he had on his pajama bottoms and a t-shirt. He crawled on top of her bed, pulled an afghan over his legs and then pulled her into his arms, holding her until she fell asleep.
Over the next month Maggie's physical injuries healed, but House could feel her spiraling down. She was no longer moaning for him to pick up after himself nor was she cooking for herself. Laundry piled up and he noticed that she never took her books upstairs to study. He rummaged through her backpack and found a midterm with a "D" written in red. She would soon get her wish to quit med school if she didn't buckle down. He figured she'd be kicked out by the end of the semester.
House Xeroxed her medical charts at work and, in full violation of patient confidentiality, visited her instructors, explaining what had happened. He asked that she be able to take the midterms over. Most of them said no, but did say that if Maggie did well on the final, they'd throw the midterm out or give the final more weight. He now had to find a way to tell Maggie what they were willing to do without Maggie going ballistic.
On one April morning, at 6:00 am, Maggie received a mysterious phone call while she and House were eating breakfast. House watched Maggie's forehead knit and a look of puzzlement came over her. When she hung up, she turned to House.
"That's weird! I just received a phone call from a disguised voice telling me to get down to the local social club on 2nd as soon as possible. He said that there was a present waiting for me on the sidewalk."
House tilted his head and narrowed his eyes, "This sound suspicious. You shouldn't go alone. I'll drive you and then I have to get to work."
They drove to the local and saw a crowd standing out front. House parked the car and as soon as Maggie walked up, the crowd grew quiet and parted to let her walk through. House took in a deep breath and looked over at Maggie, not sure what her reaction would be to what he could already see over the heads of the crowd. Everyone watched Maggie. No one said a word, took a breath, made a peep. They all waited for Maggie's reaction. Maggie walked up and stared, not showing any emotion.
She glared at the bloated, naked corpse, sitting up with his back to the building. Around his neck was a sign that read, "Rapist." Between his legs was a gaping gunshot wound where his penis and balls used to be. The hole was large enough that there was no doubt it was the cause of death. Maggie gave one curt nod and turned around, walking stoically back to the car. House followed her.
The trip back to the house was silent. House thought that he was more disturbed by the scene than Maggie. But there was no way to know. The next time he went over to Meggie's, she told him that the neighborhood gossip was that Maggie held her head high, spat on the body, and flipped it off. Greg didn't bother to set the record straight, it didn't seem to matter.
"I see the justice in what was done, but death is a little bit drastic isn't it?" House asked.
Theresa laughed, "It was a favor to his family. This way they don't have an invalid to take care of and they can collect his social security and union payout."
House chuckled, the Irish certainly had their own moral code. Still, House didn't lose any sleep over the death of Cory Sullivan. He wondered if Maggie would?
Maggie appeared to be studying more. She joined him one day at the table and, while reading the paper, told him without even looking up, "My instructors said that my fiancé was in to talk to them about giving me a second chance. Apparently, my tall, brown haired, very blue eyed, fiancé, showed them my private medical records and now they are taking pity on me. I wonder when my fiancé was going to tell me?"
"You should give Tom a call and ask."
"Right. I'll do that."
Maggie seemed to have turned some corner after the dead body of Cory Sullivan showed up, at least for a few weeks. House returned home from work, having lost a patient, only the second one in his life, and kicked back with a beer. He knew Maggie was home, but hadn't heard a peep out of her. He went upstairs and knocked on her door, there was no answer. He went into the bathroom and saw masses of toilet paper stuffed in the trash can as if someone was trying to bury something under the mountain of tissue. He combed through the toilet paper and found the stick. Maggie was pregnant.
House felt a stab of dread go through him. He opened the door to her bedroom only to find Maggie sitting at the bottom of the bed staring out the window. She didn't move.
He sat down on the edge of the bed next to her, "I found the stick. Maggie, you can get through this. It will be okay. Your family will support you."
She shook her head, "I can't do this Greg. I can't have his child."
He put his arm around her shoulder, "Maggie, you could give it up for adoption or I could take you to the clinic on campus and you could have an abortion."
She turned, looking frantic, scared, "I don't want anyone to know. The whole city knows what happened. I don't want anyone to know I'm carrying a rapist's child. Greg, please, you have to give me an abortion. I could go in one night and you could do it when it's slow."
House shook his head, "Mags, the hospital isn't licensed to do elective abortions, only medically necessary abortions. You have to go to the clinic on campus."
"Don't you understand? Some of my classmates work at the clinic. I don't want anyone to know. Greg, this is medically necessary. If I don't have an abortion, a quiet abortion, I'll kill myself. Please help me."
It was her voice that did it. He believed her. House knew he was a good judge of humans and he could tell that Maggie was seriously contemplating killing herself, mortal sin or not. She had plummeted to the depths of hell in less than two months.
"Come over at nine pm on Tuesday and I'll help you."
She reached her arms around his chest and hugged him, "You're the only person I trust right now to not judge me."
"You aren't at fault Maggie. You didn't do anything wrong." House held her and wondered if it was too late for him to find new lodgings.