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Chapter 8

There was something to be said for out of body experiences. Angela looked down at the crowd beneath her as they all gathered around. House was frantically trying to unbutton her shirt to see where the blood was coming from as other staff took the guy away who shot at her. He had a similar wound, but she had perfect aim and got him in the chest. He was dead by the time security arrived.

"I hope this helps when it comes to judgment day," she smirked. But in an instant, her surroundings changed from the clinic of PPTH to a rolling field of green grass and flowers. In the distance she could hear a babbling brook, and she walked over to it.

"You're not supposed to be here," a familiar voice said from behind her. Angela turned around and was face to face with her mother.

"Mom? What're you..." then realization hit her and she felt deflated. "Oh...I get it..."

"It's okay. I belong here. You don't."

"Then why am I here at all?"

"This is merely a half way point. See that light over there?" Jennifer asked, pointing to what looked like a very bright strobe that seemed to suddenly appear out of nowhere. It wasn't there a minute ago.

"Yeah..."

"It's time for me to go. You have to turn around, and go back the way you came."

"What if I don't want to? I like it here."

"You can't stay here."

"Why can't I go with you? It's not like I have anything to go back to. I live alone in LA and I don't have any friends."

"So make friends. It's not hard. All you have to do is make the effort."

"Friends leave."

"Well if you don't go back for that, at least go back for Dr. House."

Angela could've sworn there was a twinkle in her mother's eye at the mere mention of his name. It amused her, since her mother never seemed to approve of her fascination with the man.

"What about him, Mom?"

Jennifer looked coy. "Don't insult my intelligence. He might not show it, but he legitimately cares. Even though it's been years since you last saw each other, he's always asked about how you're doing. But you didn't hear that from me."

"Like I can pin the blame on you anyway. Nobody would believe me. When I come out of this, they're going to tell me you've passed away and then I'll be even more alone. I'm gonna miss you, Mom," Angela let out a shuddered sigh as tears began rolling down her cheeks. "Who am I going to call every other night just to chat? Or tell you about some hot guy? I can't talk to dad about that kinda stuff."

Jennifer drew her daughter close for a hug and Angela held onto her for dear life, afraid she would disappear. She knew they only had a short time left. She could feel herself becoming dizzy.

"Time to go, sweetie," Jennifer smiled, looking happy and very healthy for the first time in five years. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me." She looked back towards the light and smiled. "They're waiting."

"How do I..."

"Just go back the way you came. You'll be where you need to be. I love you, sweetie. And know that I'll always be watching over you. Behave yourself and keep House on his toes. He's going to test you in every way possible. Stick to your guns, keep him guessing and you'll do just fine."

"Mom! You aren't insisting that I...that House and I..."

Jennifer gave her that coy smile again. "Que sera sera, sweetie."

Angela reached out for her mother but she turned and walked toward the bright light across the field. When she tried to follow, it felt like her feet were stuck to the green grass beneath.

"Mom?"

"You'll be fine," she could hear her mom's voice in her head as if she was standing right next to her. "Close your eyes. Have a rest. You have a long journey ahead of you."

Angela slowly came to and opened one eye, warily. Things were blurred and hazy for a moment but they soon became clear and she could see her uncle James and her father talking outside in the hall. Her dad was crying, as was her uncle, and she knew exactly why.

House joined them a few minutes later and she saw him look at her, rather inquisitively. Almost like he was trying to figure her out.

Good luck with that, House, she thought, feeling smug. Then she chuckled, but that hurt way too much. The three men entered her room and stood around her bed.

"Mom's gone, isn't she?"

Her dad nodded and wiped at a tear that leaked from his eye. "Yes."

"Don't worry about her, Dad. She's fine."

House cocked his head to one side. "And how do you know that?"

"I can just feel it."

Wilson took her father to the cafeteria for some coffee, leaving House and Angela alone.

"Are you in any pain right now?" he asked her as he picked up her chart and flipped through it.

"A little. Where did I get shot?"

"The bullet went clean through you, just barely missing your stomach and other major arteries. The other guy wasn't so lucky. Very nice shootin', Tex."

Angela simply grinned. "I'm a Mountie. We always get our man."

House grinned. "What have you been up to these days anyway?"

"Working in L.A. mostly."

"Doing what?"

"Sometimes I act as a bodyguard. Or if a celebrity has a stalker I keep them protected."

"Do you like it?"

"It's a living. Do you like treating people?"

"I like to diagnose. I leave the treating to the doctors on my team. I try not to see the patient any more than I have to."

"Why?"

"Because there's no need unless I feel it totally necessary."

"Wow."

"What?"

"Nothing. I just...never thought you'd turn out to be so..."

"So what?"

"Antisocial."

House shrugged. "And I never thought you'd turn out to be so feminine. When I last saw you, you wouldn't be caught dead in anything like what you wore yesterday."

It was Angela's turn to shrug. "People change. I'm still a tomboy, that hasn't, and will never change. But in LA, people expect me to look a certain way. If you hired someone to protect you and she turned up dressed like some princess diva, you'd probably tell the poor girl she's fired and slam the door in her face. Right?"

House grinned. "No, I'd invite her in, get her out of those clothes, seduce her, and then send her packing."

"Is that how you treat your hookers too?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. She was good. "What do you know about that?"

"I know enough. It's not like I care. I'd never consent to work for you anyway."

"Why not?"

"Because you shouldn't protect people you know."

House nodded. "You can't be impartial. Just like why I'd never operate on you. If I killed you, Wilson and your father would never forgive me."

Angela shrugged. "I don't think you'd make that kind of error."

"You don't think I've lost any patients?"

"I'm not saying that. But I'll bet whatever killed them had nothing to do with you directly."

"Not usually. But everyone makes mistakes."

"Naturally. God knows I've made a few."

"Name one."

She really didn't want to talk to him about her past. But it wasn't like she intended on a future with him, either. "I got involved with a client. It ended badly."

"He dumped you?"

"No, he got killed. Because my defences were down and I wasn't paying attention."

"What happened?"

Angela looked up at the ceiling as if she was thinking back. "He wanted to go to some party, but I wasn't feeling well so I didn't want him to go either. Parties at popular nightclubs are a hotbed for disaster. But he went anyway, and then he got killed in a car crash. If I had just...driven him at least, instead of him getting into a car with a drunk driver, he'd be alive. And that's why I refuse to get involved with anyone I'm working for."

House nodded like he understood. "Are you going to be in town for awhile?"

Angela gave him an arched eyebrow. "Thankfully I'm between clients because I'm not going anywhere like this. Besides, my dad needs me to sort out Mom's stuff and help him with the morbid details."

"Like the funeral?"

"Yeah. Will you come?"

House squirmed uncomfortably in his chair. "I'm not really a funeral kinda guy."

"I think my Mom would like you to be there."

He rolled his eyes comically. "There you go again with that crazy talk."

She giggled, but it hurt and she winced. "Ow! I keep forgetting I've been shot."

"More drugs?"

"Are you offering?"

"Drugs are a way of life for me. But I have no problem giving you something. You should probably get some sleep. It's late, and I'm going home."

"Home to what?" she asked, her eyes, although they looked tired, still had a sparkle to them.

"Nice." He got up, shot something into her IV and patted her on the head. "Night night. Don't let the bed bugs bite."

"G'night...House..." she yawned as she closed her eyes.

House exited her room, only to be met by Wilson.

"And what were you two talking about?" his friend inquired with a raised brow.

"Hookers. G'night, Jimmy," House grinned as he patted his friend on the back and limped away.

Wilson shook his head as if to clear it. "Hookers?"

X X X

Angela woke up to find her dad sitting next to her bed reading the paper. "So thirsty..." she whispered. Her throat was so dry it hurt.

Her dad poured her some water from the jug and handed it to her. "How're you feeling?"

"Like I was hit by a Mac truck," she croaked.

"Your uncle is going to help me with the funeral arrangements. She's being cremated so once you're up to it, we can arrange for the funeral."

Angela nodded. "Thanks. I really don't want to miss it. Hopefully I'll be out of here in a week or so."

"I'm sure you will. You've had worse injuries."

"But has she ever actually died before?" a voice inquired from the doorway, causing Angela and her father to see House as he leaned against his cane in the doorway. "You coded when they took you to the OR. You were out for a few minutes at least before we brought you back to the land of the living."

"It felt like longer," she murmured.

"What felt like longer?" House asked, coming further into the room and shutting the door.

"Nothing. What are you doing here?"

"I work here. And as much as I hate to admit it, you're my patient."

"Not for much longer, I hope."

"Depends on how fast your battle scar heals. I need to take a look at it."

"Fine."

House hooked his cane over the end of the bed and sat down. "Sit forward and lift your gown up a bit."

Angela did as he asked and he slowly peeled away the bandage to reveal some stitches. "No bleeding and no pus. Good. It's healing. Stitches can come out in about a week. I don't recommend anything strenuous until then. You don't want to rip them out. It's not pleasant." As he talked, he replaced the gauze with a fresh piece and taped it back on. She was amazed at how gentle he was about it, and how quiet his voice became. It was as if they were the only two people in the room and that he was talking only to her.

When they made eye contact again, she froze. His eyes looked amazingly blue that morning and she couldn't stop looking at them. They were so mesmerizing.

"You should be out of here in a few days."

"That's great, thanks," she nodded, but still couldn't take her eyes off his. House felt suddenly uncomfortable under her intense gaze. To him, it felt like she was looking right into his soul, and he didn't think she'd like what she found there. He was the first to look away and he quickly got up from the bed.

"If you need anything just buzz the nurse."

"You're leaving so soon?" she asked, then felt like kicking herself for sounding so clingy.

"I do have other patients that are sicker than you."

Angela watched him leave, and found herself admiring the way he fit in those jeans he wore.

"Angela...no."

She looked at her dad and smiled innocently. "No, what?"

"Just...no. He's twice your age."

"So?"

"So...you were looking at him just now like he was an item on the menu," David laughed.

"I'm only human, Dad. And besides, haven't we already had this conversation?"

"Well it bears repeating. No."

She rolled her eyes and then got herself comfortable for a nap. "Whatever."