I was sitting up straight in my bed, a large smile on my face, as my father took a seat on the edge of the bed, his weight causing the mattress to dip slightly. He glanced round the room, an impressed look on his face, and eventually turned round to me.
"Long time, no see kiddo!" He laughed. I nodded, and looked down at my hands which were crossed over in my lap, I furrowed my brow.
"Did... um..." I flashed him another smile, "Did mum phone you?" I asked. My dad's brow furrowed and he slowly shook his head.
"No, I called your house a couple of times, no one was picking up. So I phoned your school, they said you were in hospital." He explained, he chuckled slightly, "Gave me the biggest fright of my life, but look at you!"
"I feel completely fine." I confessed, trying to cover up my hoarse voice, "but no one knows what's wrong with me."
"They'll figure it out." My dad promised me. I frowned slightly, everyone had been saying that, I wasn't going to start believing it now, but I shrugged and tried to look hopeful.
"So..." I sighed, "How's life? How's Carolin?" My dad shrugged, scratching his chin absent mindedly. My father was married to a young woman called Carolin, they'd been married for just over fifteen years.
"She's the same as always." He groaned, "She's obsessed with Lily, won't let me take her out by myself." I smiled at him, Lily was his and Carolin's daughter, she was four years old, and I'd only seen her once. She had short blonde hair and a button nose. She was the epitome of cute.
"She should grow out of it, I'm sure all mothers go through that over protective stage." I suggested. Perfectly on cue my door burst open and there was my own mother, standing there, eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring, completely infuriated.
"Get out!" She cried. My father scowled at her and stood up, but made no movement to suggest he was going to leave. My mother walked over to him, not backing down. Her hands were clenched into fists at her sides. I pushed myself up in my bed, looking worriedly from one to the other.
"Emily's in hospital." My father started, a hint of anger in his voice, "And you don't even call?"
"Where does your wife think you are?" My mother snapped, "At work, out with some friends, what is it this time?" She was getting hysterical. I pursed my lips together, wanting to intervene but not knowing whether it was a smart thing to do.
"I came to see Emily!" He growled, "I don't need this!"
"Right, because you really care about Emily." She spat sarcastically, "You're not going to leave her bedside!"
"What is up with you?" He asked, an exasperated tone to his voice.
"What's up? I didn't want you here! I don't want you near her!" I glanced over out the large window which doubled as a wall, and saw House standing there, watching from in between the blinds. I sighed and swung my legs over the edge of the bed, picking myself up so I was standing up straight. I wrapped my hand round my drip and made my way over to the door.
"She's my daughter; it's not up to you!" My father was screaming. They were too busy to notice me leaving. I walked into the hallway, closing the door silently behind me, and glanced over at House. He looked miserable, as per usual. I walked over to him, flashing him an apologetic smile. He dipped one hand into his blazer pocket, and pulled out a bright coloured lolly.
"Trust me, it helps, better than drugs." He sighed, handing it to me. I smirked, taking it off him and unwrapping it, sticking it into my mouth. Raspberry. House glanced up at my parents again, "What are they fighting about?"
"Usual." I murmured, "They don't like each other." House remained silent for a few minutes, his forehead crinkled with a frown. He was thinking. I looked expectantly up at him.
"She wants to take you home." House murmured eventually, there was a hint of disappointment in his voice. I slowly nodded.
"Okay..." I muttered. I was slightly confused, House noticed.
"Are you going to?" House asked, as if it was the most obvious question in the world. I looked at him, was he serious?
"No." I said slowly, "Of course not." House nodded, glancing back into the room, where my mother and father were still bickering, not having noticed I'd disappeared. House looked at me again, a mischievous smile on his face.
"Look's like they're going to be a while." He sighed, "Want to go get dinner?"
--
"You do realise everyone's staring at you." I whispered to House. We were both seated in the cafeteria, House lying back in his chair, a half eaten sandwich sitting in front of him. I was sitting opposite him, with my IV still attached to my arm. House just shrugged.
"They're just jealous, it's the hospital gown." He told me. I smiled slightly and looked down at my plate, a limp looking salad lay there and I screwed up my face slightly, "It's healthy."
"I asked for a burger." I pointed out. He shrugged.
"Thought you could use to lose some weight." I smirked at him and lifted up a fork, spooning some lettuce and a tomato into my mouth, it tasted sour. I swallowed it quickly, noticing he wasn't eating.
"Why do you put up with them?" He asked a serious look on his face. I shrugged, continuing to poke my salad around my plate.
"Are we playing this game again?" I sighed, "Fine. How did you hurt your leg?"
"We're playing 'ask the awkward personal questions'" House said with a frown, "Not 'ask the awkward medical questions', otherwise I'd have asked 'hey, what's with the blood spouting from your mouth?'" I frowned at him, but sighed, deciding that perhaps if I was honest with him he'd stop annoying me about it.
"Fine." I groaned, "But you need to buy me a decent meal."
"I don't know." He murmured, pretending to consider it, "I like my girls skinny."
"I like my guys with full use of both legs." I snapped back. House's jaw dropped.
"That hurt!" He cried, I gave him a wry smile, and continued to fiddle with my food.
"My mum and dad don't get along, never have and I doubt they ever will." I explained in a matter-of-fact tone, "That's why I put up with them, they're never going to change."
"That's a lovely optimistic view on life you have there."
"There's optimistic, and then there's delusional." I told him. I shovelled a piece of cucumber into my mouth, and grimaced, it was soggy.
"Why did they split up?" House asked. I laughed slightly.
"Split up? They were never together!" I put down my fork and rested back on my seat, giving up on my meal, "I'm the result of one too many shots of tequila and a cheap Barry White CD. They were never together, only had known each other for a few hours..."
"How romantic." House muttered.
"I know." I giggled, "But hey, I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for tequila."
"Thank god for tequila, right?" House sighed under his breath. He looked down at his feet, bouncing his cane absentmindedly and looked back at me, "Why were you emancipated, I mean I get the whole 'mother is a junkie' thing, but I mean your dad seems..."
"My dad has a life which doesn't involve me or my mother." I murmured, "He has his wife, and his own kid, and even though I'm his daughter and he cares about me, he doesn't want to ruin that. He figured me getting emancipated meant I could look after myself."
"Also means he's no longer responsible for you." House mused, "He sounds like a stand up guy."
"He is." I interjected quickly, suddenly feeling defensive. I paused and ran a hand through my hair, "His wife doesn't know about me, she doesn't know I exist. If she found out his marriage would be over and he'd lose everything. He didn't even know I existed until three years after I was born."
"Let me guess, that darling mother of yours needed money from him..." He suggested, "For drugs?"
"Spot on." I said with a smile on my face, "What can I say, my family is complicated."
"And yet you're not all damaged and angst ridden." He murmured. I grinned at him and pointed to myself.
"Optimist, remember?" I reminded him. He scowled at me.
"I hate optimists." I shrugged, pushing my plate across the table towards him.
"You still owe me a meal."