Chapter: 7. Stoned and Screaming
I know you've supported me for a long timeSomehow I'm not impressed
-NYC, Interpol
"So you think two years of parenting makes up for thirteen years of pretending like I wasn't there?" She was angry now, her father was back and they were in the middle of another fight.
"It's not like that! Besides you're just trying to make me feel guilty so you can get your way! I told you I already talked to the doctor and he won't let you go, yet."
"Well screw that, talk to him again, you're a damn lawyer! They have no right to keep me here against my will! Go be a father, get them to release me!" She screamed louder this time and a few tears fell down her cheeks.
Roger shook his head, sighed and stalked out of the room. As he walked a few heads turned, they had heard all the yelling loud and clear.
"Mr. McGrath!" Roger turned hearing his name and stopped, Dr. Chase strode up to the man looking confused. "What was that all about, why was Angela screaming like that?"
Roger rolled his eyes and continued to walk, "she really doesn't like hospitals."
As soon as the man was out of earshot Chase muttered, "and for good reason." Angela's mother died in a hospital and the memories still hurt.
"Hey, Angie, you ok?" Chase said sheepishly, stepping into the girl's room.
"No, me and hospitals don't really get along." Angela sat up and yawned softly, then coughed harshly.
"No and apparently you and your father don't get along too well either." Chase smirked.
"Yeah, we're usually fine, but I guess he was right, I was just hassling the guy so he'd get the doctor's to let me out early."
"Well, in my opinion, that wouldn't be a wise decision, you should still stay here for a while." Chase scolded her like she should know better; even if she hated hospitals she needed the care.
"Well, Dr. Chase, we already know precisely what's wrong with me, nasty cold and a wicked case of bronchitis, so just send me home with a pail of antibiotics and I'll be great." She smiled what she hoped was a cute, convincing smile.
"If the doctor agrees you can leave, but if anything else happens you know you'll be sent straight back."
"Uh huh, I'll be fine, I promise, scouts honor!" She just grinned.
"Scouts? When were you in scouts?" He would've scoffed if he weren't so interested.
"I was in girl guides for about a year, I learned the importance of recycling, it was a very special experience." She laughed a bit, which ended up sounding quite weird since her voice was so strained.
"I'm sure, you just rest and I might be back later." He got up from his chair and started for the door.
"Hey if you see my lame uncle tell him if he doesn't come see me I'll beat him up!" She smiled brighter and rested her head in her hand.
"I don't think in your condition you'll be beating anyone up for a while, even a crippled man." He grinned himself and turned to leave.
"You trying to discourage me Dr. Chase?"
The patient was lying on the exam room floor laughing hysterically, as if what he had just said was some hilarious joke. House was silently begging he was stuck with a snotty toddler, rather than this stoned moron. He couldn't possibly have ticked off Cuddy enough to deserve this. An ignorant donkey could tell this man had been smoking something on the illegal side.
"According to your chart you've experienced pain in your ankle, I'd give you something for said pain, but it looks like you've been helping yourself." He'd normally be quite amused by the scene his patient was causing, but after twenty minutes of stoner boy's immature antics even House got a little tired of this.
The patient, Trevor Boyd, collected himself and sat on the exam room table, as still as he was capable of, "Yeah, my…uh…ankle hurts, and it like…hurts to…uh…walk on my ankle."
"How articulate. Yes I believe you have sprained that ankle of yours, so we'll wrap it up nice and tight and I'll see you and your ankle later to see how you're doing." House then preceded the approach the patient, wrap the ankle and send him on his much-too-merry way.
Gregory House limped from the clinic sighing, exasperated and popped a few Vicodin, before meeting up with Allison Cameron.
"Well hello dear, how are we doing this fine afternoon?" House chimed to his lovely fiancée.
"Vomiting hourly, and you?" She said bitterly, her pregnancy was being quite the bitch today.
"Keeping my breakfast down, thank you very much. Have you had anything else to eat today?"
"No it just ends up in the garbage half-digested anyway. I'll try eating again later though, I need to, I'm feeding twice the people. Have you seen Angela yet today?"
"I peeked in this morning but the kid was sleeping, I swear if she didn't need to eat or drink or be sarcastic the child would probably sleep all day. I'll go see her now, make sure she hasn't taken any hostages in her fit of hostility." House explained and started heading towards Angela's room.
Cameron followed and frowned, "What do you mean hostility?"
"I heard she's been screaming wildly throughout the hospital halls, although that may be a slight exaggeration, you know how doctors imaginations can run from them after a few hours cooped up in a stuffy old hospital."
House opened the door, holding it for Cameron to enter first. They walked in slowly looking at the girl like she may snap any second now.
"Hello people, here to ask me how I'm doing?" Angela tried a smile, she wasn't sure what to do or say, the two visitors were staring at her like they were expecting to see her head spin in place exorcist-style.
"Yeah, so…how are you doing?" Allison asked, pulling up a chair at the foot of the bed, House leaned against the wall next to her.
"As fine as can be expected. About me screaming, which I assumed you heard about, I was just yelling at my dad to go talk to the doctors about something." She said with a small nod to House.
He nodded himself, "And I assume it doesn't take a genius to assume what you wanted him to talk to your doctor about."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm tired of this place, I want to go home, I don't like it here." She grumbled, playing with her bed sheets.
"Did mom come by today?" House questioned, hi eyebrows slightly raised, he was surprised that his mother wasn't chained to the girl's bedside.
"Yes, grandma and grandpa thoughtfully came by for a visit today. They brought me a coloring book and crayons and I made sure that I colored outside of the lines and spelled my name wrong." Angela gave the people what they wanted; you treat her like a little kid, she'll act like a little kid, that and she found it rather amusing that everyone was starting to suspect she'd become brain dead.
Roger strolled trough the door looking tired and bored, he gave a long over dramatic sigh and sat next to his daughter. "Ok Angie we're leaving."
Angela sighed again, in relief this time, and gave an appreciative smile, "Thank you, now go home and get me some clothes, if I walk out of the building in this thing I think people will think I'm an escaped mental patient." Angie smiled and gave her father a hug, and Roger left obeying his daughter's wish.
A few short seconds after Roger had exited House piped up, "Since when do you care what people think?"
A/N: ok that chapter was short and kind of pointless, but whatever! I have serious writer's block and will be baby-sitting for the next four days, so the next chapters will take a while!