Chapter 17 Villiage People

Sometime later, Arin opened her eyes and blinked, momentarily confused by the grey roof tiles above her. She hadn't meant to drift off. Her hand itched and made her look down at the line still in her hand. The tubing ran up to the bag of saline and a smaller bag on the silver hook that hadn't been there when she had fallen asleep. She hadn't meant to sleep...the last thing she could remember was the trip back through the hospital to her room. Watched the ceiling lights above her flick past overhead. Internally wrestling with the feelings of panic that threatened to engulf her and trying to tell herself that she didn't feel exposed. By the time they had parked the gurney beside her bed and it was time for her to move, she felt wrung out, like an old dish cloth.

She had settled into the bed again and closed her eyes for just a moment…a few seconds reprieve…while House and his flunkies talked in hushed voices, casting glances at her every few moments. Sleep was so welcome…but the thumping of her heart seemed like it would never slow. She closed her eyes and listened to it, trying to force deep relaxing breaths. Turning her head towards the window she saw the deep blue of the sky outside unhindered by clouds. How long ago was that? Her neck was stiff from the alien pillow and mattress.

"How's your head?" A voice asked from the bottom of the room. The girl sat up slightly on her elbows to look quizzically in the direction it came from. House looked up at her from the chair at the bottom of her bed and the medical journal he was reading. His shirt and jacket from earlier were missing, the slight difference seeing him in the dark jeans and a band t-shirt that she couldn't make out was somehow startling. He wore a pair of silver wired spectacles which he peered over and met her dark brown eyes over the top of the glossy paper. He held her gaze for a moment and waited.

"What are you still doing here?" She asked groggily and pushed herself further up, reaching for the water at her bedside.

"I work here." He told her.

She rolled her eyes. "I mean, why are you still in my room? Don't you have an office to sit around waiting for your patients to wake up from naps?"

He gave a sort of half smile. "Normally yes, but with you, I feel like I need a front row seat just in case I miss something." he folded his journal and put it down on top of a small stack of papers. Apparently, he was in for the long haul.

She picked up the water pitcher and felt her hand shake slightly. Concern blossomed across her expression. She felt so weak. Her eyes moved upwards hearing the squeak of his shoes on the linoleum floor.

In two strides, House was at her side. Gently he took the pitcher from her and filled the small cup with water which he handed to her.

"Thank you." She said and sipped.

This caused him to raise his eyebrows but not comment other than to say "You're welcome." She seemed calmer in his presence. As she drank he checked the readouts on her vitals.

"What time is it?" She asked.

"Late afternoon by now." He said without diverting his attention. Satisfied he stepped back and observed her for a moment. " You spiked a fever shortly after moving back to your room. I've started you on some steroids and some broad-spectrum antibiotics. I thought it best to let you sleep."

She continued to sip her water until the cup was empty. When no conversation was forthcoming he added. "The blood work showed a slight increase in your white blood cell count this time, coupled with fever it means infection. The LP was clean. …" she raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything so he continued. "Your temperature is better. Sit forward for me." He visually inspected the rash on her neck. The inflammation was down and the skin looked relatively normal. "The rash looks better. The meds seem to be working"

Again nothing as forthcoming. Frustration flared, had she decided to give him the silent treatment or what? "Cat got your tongue?" He huffed and stalked back to his seat.

Arin watched him go, carefully considering his expression. Was he annoyed with her? "No." She said. "Just thinking."

House lowered himself into the chair, careful of his bad leg. Frustration turned to relief and then quickly to Surprise. He hadn't counted on actually wanting the rapport they had established to continue but in the moment where he wondered if she had reverted to the same standoffish relationship of the previous evening, he found that he didn't want it to.

Her test results were normal which should have been boring but although he now had something to go on, a marginal white blood cell count elevation, something still didn't sit right with him regarding her. The medicine was almost secondary to the intrigue of the iatrophobia and once he had scratched the surface of that there seemed to be many more unaccessed layers.

"About?" He asked finally. His interest was genuine.

Arin puffed air between her cheeks in a manner rather reminiscent of the way House himself sometimes did. She seemed to be considering carefully something that she was unsure if she should put into words. The girl gave him another appraising look and then went back to looking at the cup in her hands.

"Do you want to ask about your meds?"

She shook her head.

"Do you have questions about what happens now?"

Again she shook her head and looked up at him again. He felt the flare of frustration but quelled it.

"Well come on Kiddo, spit it out. What are you thinking about" he said.

"I'm thinking about what you said, about why you chose to become a doctor."

If this wasn't what he expected he didn't show it, simply readjusted his leg and leaned back in his chair to consider her. "I already answered that question."

"It's…not a question…it's more of a thought process." She said.

"Go on."

"I'm wondering about what you actually said. About why you decided to become a Doctor."

"Right. You said that…you're going to have to elaborate more if you want me to confirm or deny anything."

"You said it was because of the time you were in Japan. The way the buraku Guy was treated. How you did the same, when you first saw him you like everyone else ignored him until they realised they needed him."

He waited, feeling his brow furrow slightly as he wondered where she was going with this.

For her part She seemed to consider if she should continue or not, it was a struggle to decide but it felt like she couldn't stop herself now, she weirdly felt more awake around him somehow and it was too difficult to bite her tongue as she normally would, "You asked me earlier why my family hadn't done more to nurture my gifts. Were you asking as a stab in the dark or did you ask because empathetically you knew I would respond, because yours didn't either?"

There was a pause between them, she was acting differently. Some sort of subtle change. House turned his cane in his hand. "I'll bite. Explain your thought process on that one. Then maybe I'll respond"

She looked at him then, if her expression had been confused when he had asked her to explain what hurt or how she was feeling this was like a lowering of shields. Her expression relaxed for the first time since he had met her and became contemplative, without the defensive undertone.

"14 years old…" she began. "…don't understand why you piss people off without meaning to just by telling the truth. There's power in that, being able to tell when people are bullshitting. But it's more of a curse than a gift, spending years seeing everyone around you just always…lying, to themselves, to each other. Pouring out of them list a second language."

"Everybody lies, what's the point."

"For some people, it's enough to keep the fact you know someone is telling you nonsense to themselves. But you…you and I both know you can't help yourself. You don't care what is socially acceptable. So you call people out on it or you correct them." She held her hands up and looked at them then traced the line of her arm with her eyes to the IV line.

"God turning your brain on made you long-winded," House rolled his eyes and entire head on his neck. " I assume you're going somewhere with this."

"If you'd let me finish." Arin scowled. "Can't be a villager, ignored by the other Witches because you're atypical and they assume they are better than you anyway so why bother? So you can't fit in and use them as camouflage, it's too stifling. But it's the same with other witches…too slow or too focused on the social constructs that limit their thinking as well as yours, when you point it out you become as much a heretic as Galileo. But without the regard of the court of your peers. So you can't be a witch… so you end up being nothing, just a big ball of ass hole-like behaviour that rubs both dichotomies the wrong way. Until you see something you totally could be. " She shrugged and dropped her arms to look at him again.

He met her gaze with a stoic expression. The cane now stationary in his hand. "Which is?"

"You're a Warlock who lives in the cave outside the village and is generally scary enough not to bother but more or less ignored by both villagers and other witches, until the harvest dies or someone gets sick then they come to your cave with fruit and gifts and the plea for help they can only get from you. You help them, they praise you and give you stuff, forget about you and leave you alone to do your own thing until the next crisis."

She shrugged and then all of a sudden, as if she was only just realising what she had said and who to, the defensive energy snapped back into place. Her cheeks flushed pink, embarrassment again, not fever.

House watched her, Well, that was certainly… interesting, he thought as he listened to the last words of the girl's rather profound rant. Many an individual had tried to psychoanalyse him over the years, some of the best trained at that. Typically they got hung up on the fact he was an ass, or unethical or, in more recent years, his leg. They constructed a version of him that they could use to blame all of his behaviours and characteristics on. Blame trauma or some other such excuse. Yet with only modest information, this kid had built up a fairly accurate profile of him…by using herself as a template.

"This is what you were processing while you were unconscious in the throws of a fever?" He asked.

The teen before him squirmed noticeably under the scrutiny of his gaze. And once again he found himself reevaluating the Rubix Cube as it changed colour on him. It seemed that both her psychiatrist and maybe even himself had underestimated just how 'clever' this girl actually was. "Well?"

Arin shrugged, and busied herself with the cup again.

"Why?"

"You don't make sense to me. I'm trying to understand my current situation and logically understanding your part in it and by extension you, allows me to gather the pieces I need to make a context..."

"So you're through being idiotic?"

"For now I guess so. At least in some ways, I doubt you'll consider everything not idiotic if it doesn't fit with your own opinions."

"I thought you were pretending to be a villager."

Arin looked up at him again. "Glamours don't work on people who can see through them." She said simply. Her brown eyes locked with his blue ones.

He could see the wary nature in her but recognised something else. Something that he saw in the mirror every time he took a good look at himself. This was a lone wolf meeting another situation, like calling to like. Resonating between them. Despite her friends and her efforts, she was lonely. And now she found herself recognising the same thing he did and trying to create a reference point from it.

"Not bad kiddo." He said, with no more commitment than that. However, he did contemplate her for another long moment. "you're sixteen right, just finished sophomore year?" He added.

Arin nodded.

Frowning and thinking out loud, House continued. "No more metaphors, no diversions, no deflecting… straight shooting down the middle. Ok?"

The girl again watched him and gave the same barely perceivable nod.

"Just exactly how clever are you?" He let that hang in that air a second. "More than your average teen that's obvious, if you know how to look. You hide it well kiddo but like calls to like as you said. So what...are you an A student clever? gifted and talented class clever? Mensa clever?" He paused. "I'd normally ask if you even know but something tells me you do. You know exactly."

She sighed and looked at him as though he were asking her to open a box she had locked and didn't want to. "Why does it matter? No one cares."

"It matters to me, " he said, staring at her, giving her nowhere else to look but at him, and then, without meaning to "I care." He managed to conceal the shock he felt, where had that come from? When he managed to focus on her again he found she looked...upset?

" Do you?" She asked him. "Or do you just want to build another lock pick to get in at me since you've nothing better to do?"

"That's...not fair," he said harshly.

"Isn't it? You say you do but you don't care really, just like they don't. They want me to be their stupid but dependable friend, you want me to be the mildly annoying puzzle that's keeping you from whatever else you don't want to do. Why does it matter to you? You've got what you wanted from me, you're at the treatment point. That's it, you're done. Back to the status quo without a backwards glance and without a care for what you've done. They are the same." she didn't seem angry, not really but very tired.

"You know the parable of Pandora's box?" She asked but didn't wait for him to confirm. Before he could reply she gave a deep sigh, her expression became stoic, her tone taking on a quotation style. "In only a few short meetings it is clear that the patient's behaviour is atypical. I find her to be empathic, curious, and strong-willed. The further assessment shows the patient Possesses a clear sense of self-definition and purpose alongside a High intelligence quotient and an Inherent intuitive ability. The Wechsler Intelligence Scale for Children administration took some convincing, however, displaying a score of 149, placing the patient within the 'highly gifted' category. It is my recommendation that a school more suited to her needs would allow for better development and bereavement to continue unobstructed."

"Eidetic?" House asked after a few moments of silence, when she nodded he added "That's not in your file. He just said you were clever." She shrugged as if she had no explanation. "And so he had you sent to Scotland?"

Again Arin shrugged. "It was supposed to be a school where I could get encouragement and explore my gifts"

"And that didn't happen did it?" He asked.

"No." She said with a bitter tone.

He considered her. "So you made your Grandfather bring you back?"

The girl sighed. "No exactly, I sort of made a bit of a nuisance of myself. Coasted academically but was enough of a pest that they decided that the grief and upheaval were doing more harm than good. The school recommended I go home."

A look of understanding crossed the doctor's features. "Which is what you were betting on. You knew the adults wouldn't listen to your opinion so you made sure they would make the suggestion for you. Am I right?" She looked at him then and he explored her expression a moment before nodding his head. "Interesting."

The girl shifted uncomfortably but he continued to watch her. "Was the grief genuine or all part of the manipulation?"

"Are you asking me if I'm a sociopath?" She asked.

"Manipulative yes, sociopathic…well not sure about that, but my money on no." He shrugged. "I'm trying to understand you better."

"Yes. The grief was…is…genuine."

House pondered this a moment as the girl played with a stray thread in the blanket across her knees. "For your Grandmother…but not for your parents?"

"I don't really remember my parents, I have vague hazy memories about them but nothing really concrete. My Grandmother, she was all I had really. After she died Grandfather threw himself more into his work, travelling a lot more. He always made sure there were staff to take care of the house and me I guess but it just…wasn't the same." She gave another bitter laugh "How could it be"

There was silence a moment before House responded. "Sounds lonely." He waited for a second and added, "That's when you started self-harming?"

Her gaze flicked to meet his so quickly that he raised both eyebrows, suspicions confirmed it seemed. "How did you..?"

He nodded his head to her legs under the blanket. "I saw some scarring on your thighs during the set-up for the LP, it looked like it was mostly around the front and old but if you know what you're looking for those sorts of scars are hard to hide."

Arin lowered her gaze again and a short silence fell between them. House, for his part, took in the girl's reactions and considered his next comments.

"That's what the skater boi helped you with, wasn't it? Did he see you do it or did he see bleeding and put two and two together?"

"The later," Arin said. She looked up to meet House's gaze again. "Are you going to have to tell someone?"

"Like who?" He asked.

She shrugged.

"Like someone from psyche?" He continued and when she gave a slight nod he turned it with a serious look of his own. With all of her other behaviours exhibited so far, he probably should. They would likely have a field day…and yet something stopped him other than the fact that he still didn't have his answer yet. Instead, he said, "That depends, are you still doing it?"

Again she met his gaze and shook her head firmly.

"Do you feel the urge to do it still?"

"When I do I play the guitar instead." She said quietly, causing him to tilt his head at her.

"Show me your hands." He said and stood to limp the short distance between the chair and her bed.

Reluctantly, as if still wary his touch would burn her she did as he asked.

House gently took her left hand in his own and turning it over began to examine her fingertips. "Interesting coping strategy." He said and released her. "What happened to your Grandmother?"

"She died," Arin said with a frown.

"Yeah, I got that I meant why, what was the cause of death?"

"I already told Cameron and Chase when they asked me all of those questions."

"Yeah, tell me this time."

"She just died. One second she was fine then next she dropped to the floor. Aneurysm. Burst…"

"You were there?"

Silently, as if she didn't trust herself to speak, the girl shook her head.

"I'm sorry." He said and as rarely as it happened, his words were genuine. "There would have been nothing you could have done…if that helps."

"I know, it doesn't." She said in response.

He nodded and watched her quietly for another moment before moving back to the chair. Lowering himself into it he rubbed at his leg absently and helped himself to a Vicodin from his pocket.

The two of them sat in an awkward sort of quiet for some time before surprisingly, the girl chose to break it.

Arin considered the Doctor before her in his chair. "How do you deal with being…awake all the time." She asked.

He glanced at her and assuming she wasn't talking about the sleep cycle and circadian rhythms considered his answer. "I find things to distract me. The medicine helps with that. I take on rare and interesting cases because they aren't common and therefore aren't boring. I look for puzzles and then I look to solve them." He gave a slight smile as he watched her form her next question, preemptively he added. "And before you ask, the puzzle isn't always because the symptoms are rare. Sometimes they are just weird. Occasionally I take on cases because the patients themselves intrigue me."

"Which is me I guess."

"You got it Kiddo. Though you turned out to be much more interesting than I initially gave you credit for, even if your symptoms themselves aren't all that interesting. I'll give you that much." He gave a crooked sort of half smile.

This time Arin returned it with a sort of bemused look. "Well, I'm glad I have been of entertainment to you."

House frowned. Was that all, entertainment? Perhaps it had started that way but now? Now he wasn't so sure. He shook his head. "I wouldn't say that exactly."

Whatever he was about to say next died however as a knock from the door interrupted and the glass rolled opened behind the blinds. Another Doctor Arin didn't know, put his head around the opening, his gentle expression took in the room and then fixed on House.

"House." He said, indicating the outside of the room with his chin. "Can I have a word?"

Arin watched with interest as her roommate carefully gathered his cane and got to his feet. "Certainly Doctor Wilson." He said, his expression unreadable. To Arin, he said, "Have another short nap Kiddo, I'll be right back."

He left the room, closing the door behind him, leaving Arin to flop back into her pillows. She watched the ceiling for a few heartbeats then turned her head to watch the silhouettes of both men walk away from the room