Existence
House had demanded to be there. His protests did him no good, however. She was in critical condition and there was no point in having another doctor by her side. He refused to help the janitor after it was suggested he join the doctors in patching the man back together. House would rather throw the janitor back into the ruins of the record room than help him.
He had demanded her folder, however, the moment it had been written, and he sat in his office, a single lamp on, casting just enough light for him to read by. She had a broken rib, a deep cut on her cheek, and numerous second degree burns from the fire and the chemicals. Her wrist had been broken and a lung had collapse, not to mention the handful of other broken bones...
All in all, she was a wreck and the janitor suffered from a single broken bone. He had not even needed stitches. House snarled to himself. That man could have killed her through his stupidity. The janitor was fired, obviously, due to be released from the hospital in a day. He had kept his mouth shut, however, no matter how many times he was questioned by the police, inspectors, and doctors. He had told them he had indeed dropped the match into the bucket of cleaner on accident, but seemed embarrassed when he was asked why he had not just taken a break and had a smoke outside. It was clear he had not been thinking and he was using the wrong cleaner for simply wiping down the shelves.
House couldn't believe the stupidity of people. Because they did not think, they hurt others, physically wounding them. And this was existence. This was the way humans worked, with no regard to rules or concerns.
Oh, how much he wanted to see her... House didn't know if he could put it into words. He ran his fingers through his hair. She would be back in her room right now. She was asleep when he had seen her last. They were going to put her in anesthesia to reset her bones and House had felt his stomach clench as she saw the mask on her face, her eyelids slowly drooping. He had stood there until she was asleep, watching her through the window of her room. As he saw this in his mind's eye, House wondered what he would have done if she had died. What if she had died without saying another word to him?
He felt exhausted. He did not want to admit it, but he was on edge, nervous, even a bit scared. House being scared? That wasn't possible. She was going to be alright. It was over now, there was no immediate danger to her. Weariness took a hold of him and he rested his head in his hands, closing her folder. His leg was throbbing. His shift had been over for a while and he decided he just wanted to go home. Standing up, House took his cane, flipped off the lamp, and left his office.
On the way out the door, however, he saw the shift board with the names of those who were supposed to be on duty that night. Her name was on the list and no one was covering for her. House stopped and stared at her name for a few moments. Then, with an angry snort and a sharp turn on his heel, House stormed back into his office, switched on the lights, and grabbed the bag from under his desk. It was going to be a long night.
He lay there, under the sheets of the hospital bed, staring at the ceiling. The moon was bright enough through the window that he could try and count the dots in the ceiling tiles, but he stopped after he realized he was getting a headache. He never liked night shift. Basically he felt like a patient until his pager went off, reminding him that he was a doctor. Then he had to get out of bed, hobble down the hallway, and assist anyone who needed an up on their painkiller.
Painkiller. Those two pills were almost saying his name... His leg twitched and House rolled his eyes. To take his mind off the pain, he started to count the holes in the tiles again. Once again, it did nothing but aggravate him. Glancing over at the moonlight shining on the floor, he vividly recalled her dancing, delicate feet carrying her lithe body across the tiles, her arms swaying, her hair-
No, he wouldn't start thinking of her. Already he had the song in his head...
Eventually, House got out of bed, grabbed his cane, and limped down the hallway toward her room.
Thanks for reading! I really love reviews, so I hope to hear from you! I am afraid I see the end coming very near! (Then again, I have been saying that for a while, now, haven't I?) Thanks again and I hope you continue reading!