OH NO YOU DIDN'T;

[anaxzandra corinne house]

» For some strange-ass reason, Xzandr was in a... well, jolly mood. Everything happening recently suggested she should be angry, or at least depressed. Hr baby was still struggling for his life in the NICU, her anti-relationship with Ryan was falling apart- try explaining that one- and life generally sucked. Every day, she wished she could just go back to a simpler time, or find something from her life before that she could hold onto. She had given up the Vicodin weeks before her kid- still unnamed- was born, too early. The first couple of weeks were the worst, but she was feeling better, but that didn't mean the temptation wasn't there. She wanted her drugs- needed them. But, damn her, most of them were missing, because she had tried to overdose about a week ago. As far as she knew, she and Ryan were the only ones who knew about that. Gregory would probably eat her soul- or whatever remained of it. She reached into her desk and pulled out a Vicodin bottle, shaking it, then popped the lid off and took the four pills left in the bottle. Oh, that felt good. They were her security blanket.

» What better way to have a persistent jolly mood than to fuck around with people? And who better to fuck around with than dear old dad? She still couldn't understand how their relationship had crumbled. They were pretty close when she was a small child, even through her teen years and all that bullshit, when children usually start to hate their parents. She never went through that. Not until the whole thing with her leg happened. She couldn't figure out, though, exactly why they were like they were now. As far as she could figure, he was probably jealous. He was no longer the only narcissistic, crippled diagnostician in the hospital- not to mention the drug addiction! Now, it was just fun to fuck with him- and he could very well fuck around right back. The banter, the fucking around, the pranks... what fun!

» Using her cane for support, she hobbled out of her own office and made her way down to Greg's, knowing he wouldn't be there yet- knowing him, he would probably be sleeping as long as he damn well could- and used a bent paper clip to pick the lock on the door, opening it to find herself in the office. Reaching into the pocket of her pants, she produced a sharpie, and promptly made her way over to Greg's beloved whiteboard. After pausing for a second, considering what she would right, she finally decided, and drew a rather large- and detailed- penis on the board, giggling insanely as she re-capped the sharpie, stuffed it back in her pocket and quickly fled the scene of the "crime", going back to her own office and sitting innocently at her desk.

notes; sorry for the crap.
tag; none other than the great GREGORY HOUSE

[gregory johnathan house]

[/i] to sleep in this morning... okay, that was total bullshit. He had been put on clinic duty all last week, and to be frank, he wasn't happy about it. Pulling toys out of kids noses, and scaring the fuck out of people who came in complaining about a sore throat was only oh-so exciting for a certain amount of time. Scrubbing at his unshaven face, Gregory House decided it was best he get his lazy ass off the couch in the staff room, and attempt to do some work. Groaning as he swung his legs off the couch, House sub consciously reached for his jacket pocket and pulled out his beloved orange pill bottle. Popping off the top, he tipped the contents into his hand; three pills were all that was left. "Dammit." he sighed, dry swallowing the three in his palm, and then inspecting the sticker on the side of the bottle. Damn good thing James had prescribed another bottle for him... or so he hoped. Reaching lazily for his cane, the man forced himself to stand - his eyes squinting and then opening wide as he yawned and stretched an arm up towards the ceiling. Raising a brow, he heard the distinct sound of cane to floor down the hall. Was Anaxzandra working today? Of course she was working today. He remembered her bitching about it the night before when he passed her and one of their colleagues. He also remembered that he had whapped his daughter on her bad leg with his cane... which resulted in them cane fighting and screaming at each other in the emergency waiting room. A smirk graced the man's lips and he limped to the door of the staff room so he could poke his head out.

Xzandr was just closing the door to her office as House exited the staff room. Hmn. Odd of her to be up and in a hurry. Maybe she had an interesting case? House's upper lip twitched. He needed a new puzzle. Needed one. Stepping out into the hall, he realized it was fairly empty. Odd, as usually Xzandr was causing chaos, or one of his ducklings was hunting him down to get answers out of him. Where the hell was James!? A mock pout replaced the cynical smirkk on his face as he glanced around the hallway. His "bff jill" as he had overheard a few colleagues mock. So what...? House would only admit to those he trusted most that James Wilson was his best friend. In all seriousness, James was the only one who could really take his bullshit. James was able to mock and insult back. He shared House's sense of humor... and that's what attracted the man the most. Shaking his head, Gregory started his limping journey to his office; passing his daughter's office, the man made a face through the glass and continued on his way. Just because he openly despised his daughter, he could at least admit to himself he still had a soft spot for the girl... and heck - he still had his sweet moments with her. No matter how small they are. Even if it's just a simple smile in the hallways of the hospital, or them actually not fighting for once... it made him smile to think about Xzandr when she was young. When they were younger. When they actually liked each other, and played with each other... or - rather while Xzandr played and Gregory tried to play with her. He wasn't capable of much due to his bum leg. Is that maybe why she was so cynical towards him? Who knows now.

Reaching his office, the first thing Greg noticed was the door was unlocked. "Hmn." he huffed, glancing over his shoulder as he swung the door open. Flicking on the lights, he gazed at his desk. Dammit. Look at all that fucking WORK! All the folders, and all the - hold on a minute. House turned slowly - dramatically, although there was no audience - and faced his white board. Drawn on it, was a very elaborate and detailed looking penis. "Ah....huh." he nodded slowly, still staring blankly at the white board before taking a few steps forward to grab the board brush. Wiping at the board, he set down the brush... then realized that the penis had not erased. Tilting his head, Gregory bit on his lower lip and picked the brush up again, rubbing at the board feverishly. What. The. Fuck. Inhaling deeply, House tossed the brush on his desk as he spun around and hobbled in a fluster to Anaxzandra's office. Throwing the door open to her office, he saw her sitting rather innocently in her desk, and leaning heavily on his shined up cane, the older man watched her with a flicker in his eyes. Instead of saying anything, Gregory simply stood there and stared at his daughter, lifting his chin slightly and raising an eyebrow in question. What exactly was her motive for drawing a penis on his white board? One of his prized possessions? Why would she - ohh... maybe it was payback from last month, when he had slicked the floor up in front of her office with the floor polisher? House thought she had forgotten all about that. Leave the past in the past, right?

THE PUPPET; Gregory House
THE PUPPET MASTER; Nette
SONG MOTIVATION: the RENT soundtrack
NOTES; I quite like this post. :3 my first House post. I think I captured him pretty well!
RATING; 7 out of 10.[/i][/ul][/size]

[anaxzandra corinne house]

» She noticed Greg go by her office and make a face, but pretended she didn't. He would know immediately, just looking at her, that she had done something. Of course, just the fact that someone had fucked around with his white board would be enough to implicate her, because, let's face it- the ducklings were scared shitless of him, Wilson wouldn't go there, and as far as the rest of the hospital staff was concerned, his room was a black hole. That only left her, the one person who wasn't scared of the man. He didn't even intimidate her, like he did the newer ducklings. It was probably because she knew all his tricks- let's face it, they were practically the same person, with a few years' difference and different reproductive organs- and she'd seen his softer side, when she was younger.

» Upon hearing more cane-to-floor tapping, Xzandr knew Greg was returning. Ah, so he'd discovered her work of art. No doubt he'd try to erase it. Oh, come on, House, why would she go to the trouble to fuck around half-assedly? She looked down at a file for a case that she'd already solved last week, in an attempt to look totally innocent, even though Greg was no idiot and probably didn't even need to think to know who had done it. She looked up at him with a sly grin. "Yes?" Oh, the things she could say now. Would she poke fun at him? Of course. Make it look as though she doubted his diagnostic abilities? Duh! "You need help with a case?" she asked, as if it were a serious question. "Ready to finally admit you don't know everything?" She spun her chair around, then stopped and faced him again. "I'll help you, of course..." She trailed off, not telling her father what he should already know- that fucking around with him was a much higher priority for her than saving the life of the patient. Oh, she was such a terrible doctor, ethics-wise. Just another antisocial characteristic she had inherited from dear old dad.

[gregory johnathan house]

[/b][/color]" he tilted his head slightly. "I don't need anyones help. Certainly not yours." Swinging his cane out in a wide armed gesture to the chair in front of her desk, House rolled his shoulders in a shrug then limped his way over to the chair, holding onto the back of it with one hand, and leaning heavily on his cane with the other hand, Greg sucked on his bottom lip for a moment before smiling mockingly at his daughter. "You remember when you were young, and you had walked in on daddy changing?" he grinned smugly. "You asked what it was. I told you it was a snake." House rolled his eyes to the ceiling and then stepped beside the chair to gaze down at her with a sly expression. Oh, he wasn't finished.

"Now, I know that this job is as easy as participating in a Kindergarten class... but honestly? You didn't have to draw a picture of daddy's snake for all the class to see. Unless you did draw it especially for daddy." he made extra certain to say "daddy" as often as possible in this little spiel. He knew how much she hated it. "On that note, would you like a candy bar? You deserve one after that display of art skills." Greg remembered that he had always given Xzandr a chocolate bar and 20 bucks for every A she got in school. Why stop now? Reaching into his pocket, House pulled out the empty bottle of Vicodin and then glanced at the sticker on the side again. Why was he wasting time on the demon spawn? He could bloody well go and get the next bottle of pills. Where in the hell was Wilson? His eyes rolled slightly. Probably trying to score yet another date with the Cudster. Cuddy baby. CUD-DUH-EE. Sighing some, Greg stared at his daughter blankly, then smirked down at the folder in her hands. "You know, a good doctor would have closed that folder and put it way minutes ago, knowing the diagnosis." The elder House smirked at her and rolled his eyes towards the door of her office. "And a good mother would be beside her demon spawn while it got better one would assume." House then guffawed loudly and tossed his head back with a genuine grin. "Oh, 'good mother' is just... not the right title for you, no. Not at all." The man couldn't help another round of up-roarus laughter.

THE PUPPET; Gregory House.
THE PUPPET MASTER; Nette.
NOTES; Not particularly proud of this post,but I like the dialog. xD
RATING; eh. like. 6 out of 10.[/size][/ul]

[anaxzandra corinne house]

» Xzandr snorted, and was ready to come back with a crack about how [deformed her father's snake was before the entire memory came back to her, and she had to lean forward, rubbing her eyes. "Ahhhh," she groaned. She did not need that image in her head. Xzandr was no prude. There were plenty of nasty images in her head, the likes of which even the best masochist or porn star would blush about. But good God, did she need that in her head now? "Thanks," she said flatly, "...that image will be in my head for a week. And believe me, it's even nastier than some of that other shit I can cook up. God, what the fuck is wrong with you, old man?"

» She nearly got up and whacked him upside the head. "No, I don't want your fucking candy bar!" she snapped. He probably did something to it. Sure, it looked totally harmless, like he'd just gotten it off the store shelf, but knowing him it was probably stuffed with laxatives, or something equally as nasty. And besides that, she could tell it wasn't a true offer. If she were dumb enough to accept and make an attempt to take the chocolate, he would probably have a nice laugh about how she'd fallen for his ruse. She wouldn't let him have that satisfaction. "Go offer it to a dog." They both knew damn well what would happen then- uh, hello, kindergartners knew that chocolate and dogs didn't mix- and it wasn't like she particularly liked killing innocent animals, she just figured it was better than telling him to stick the candy up his ass, since it probably came from there anyway.

» Xzandr's eyes narrowed. Her father was going too far. "Oh, and I guess you would know all about being a good parental unit!" She practically blew up at him right then. Forgetting her cane, she stood up and angrily hobbled over to him, not quite getting violent yet, but knowing her, that would come soon. "Maybe I don't feel like watching the little fucker die, how about that?! He wasn't supposed to make it this long. He's on borrowed fucking time. I'm not going to watch him take his last breath just because you think I should be next to him all the time." The kid was actually doing well, considering he was still really small, and couldn't breathe, eat, or maintain his own temperature. At least he was alive, which was a lot more than most babies born at just under 22 weeks could claim. Still, Xzandr was, and always had been, convinced that he wasn't going to make it. She hadn't even thought of any names yet.

[gregory johnathan house]

[/color][/b]" he began to pretend counting in his head, nodding his head with each 'number'. "Ah, I can't keep up anymore." he shrugged. At her snap about the candy bar, Greg rolled his eyes slightly and then pulled a Snicker's bar out of his pocket. Mm. Just what he needed right now. Unwrapping it, he smirked at the remark about giving it to a dog, and he then took a bite from it himself. Mm. Chocolate goodness. He knew she would probably get up any second to chase him with her own cane, and House tightened his grip on his to brace himself for a good ol' fashioned cane fight. Just in case. You never know, right?

When Xzandr's eyes narrowed, the elder House realized he had gone a little too far, and he slouched his shoulders slightly, tensing as she grew furious with him. Raising an eyebrow while she continued on her tirade, he inhaled deeply, and as soon as she was finished, he let his own little rant go with one long exhale. "Look, Anaxzandra." he started, and whenever he used her full name, most people knew that he was serious. "You have to quite being so fucking negative all the time! Sometimes the best thing to heal a breaking heart is to be there for someone or something you love!" he growled, raising his cane as he moved to her desk more. Leaning against her desk, Greg inhaled again and then sighed in frustration. "Look, I'm not always right about a lot of things, but if I had done things differently in the past, I know for a fact that I'd probably be different than I am right now! I'm not...- I just! ... Argh!"

Shaking his head, he turned around so his back was facing her, biting his tongue so he wouldn't say anything more. He might say the wrong thing. Something about Nathalie, perhaps. That was somewhere he did not want to go right now. Grinding his teeth, he really wished he had been in that room with her. Tilting his head, he thought about the younger woman's beautiful face... but that was years ago. Many years. There was no use dwelling on the past any longer. No use what-so-ever. Turning to gaze at Xzandr from over his shoulder, he noted that she looked so much like her mother. She barely got anything from him... well other than the bum leg, and had decided to get addicted to Vicodin as well. Copy cat. Rolling his eyes some, the elder House sighed and turned more to face his daughter. "The best thing you can do right now is to be with the kid. If not for your sake... but for the kids. Even if it doesn't know what's going on, it'll feel the love it needs to before it dies." he sighed. "If it dies." Watching her for a moment, Greg turned to stare at his sneakers, shrugging his shoulders softly. It wasn't easy being nice. To anyone. Especially his own spawn.[/size][/ul]

[anaxzandra corinne house]

» It didn't bother her so much that Greg thought- or seemed to think- that she was a bit of a slut. Go ahead and think that, she always thought. She didn't care. Because the verbal abuse that would be brought on by the fact that Ryan was the only guy she had ever fucked would be far less than anything he'd say if he kept thinking she'd fucked hundreds of guys. Besides, if he knew there was only one guy, then he would know by default who the father of her baby was, and even though by all accounts she hated Ryan, she couldn't bear to see her father tear him apart. Maybe not so much in a protective sense, but the man seemed to have a penchant for finding one little blip in judgment of another person and blowing it way out of proportion. "Jealous that I get more action than you? Or just jealous that you're the only guy around here that can't get it up?"

» Breaking heart? She didn't even have the required equipment. She felt nothing for her child- or so she would claim- much less have her nonexistent heart be breaking for him. As far as she was concerned, or as far as she would admit aloud, she would be much better off if the kid died. At least then she wouldn't have to deal with his shit, figure out how to raise him properly, or lose sleep. She didn't get enough sleep as it was anyway, and the last thing she needed was some stupid little kid crying all night. Not like she wanted- or trusted, after what happened to her as a baby- anyone to help her out. It was highly unlikely Ryan would be of any use. She couldn't do it on her own. She didn't trust herself not to bitch at the kid for crying, or to not shake him. She wasn't the most patient person in the world, and patience seemed to be something parents needed. If, by some miracle, the kid lived, would she be able to gain that trait in time? She could, she supposed, put him up for adoption- but she would need Ryan's permission for that, and even if she could just bully him into signing the papers, she didn't want to deal with him, speak to him, or have any contact at all with him. Besides, she was too much of a pussy to abort the kid- she chickened out at the last second- so what made her think she could give him up at all?

» Xzandr growled a little. "Oh, fuck you. I don't care about him at all. Know how much I care? Five minutes a week- if that. He doesn't have a name. Nothing. I don't even know what machines he's attached to, what medicines they're pumping into him. Why? Because I don't give a fuck about him!" Sighing heavily, she added, "You would know all about that. You're the King of Not-Giving-A-Fuck-Land."

» And then, as if there was some sort of mood switch that had been flipped, Xzandr laughed- actually laughed. Her father just admitted to not being right all the time? Did he actually just say that shit? "You're... not always right." She slammed one fist down on the top of her desk. "Why can't you say that shit when I have some sort of recording device out? Now nobody's going to believe me when I spread it around." She was a bitch to her father. Actually, she was a bitch to everyone, but especially her father. It was a love/hate hate/hate relationship, both ways. So what if this was supposed to be a serious conversation? She never did well with those anyway.

» "You see, Old Man," she started, stepping back away from him and grabbing her cane. But instead of immediately using it to beat her father within a millimeter of his life, she used it to keep her balance as she paced in the open space on the side of her desk. "Your logic is seriously flawed. In order for the aforementioned little fucker to feel love, the one by its side would have to love it. In the absence of said love, there would be, in fact, an absence of love toward the little fucker, thus wasting the time of the unit by its side." She stopped, and looked over her shoulder at him. "Besides, little fucker's gonna die. Now get the hell out before I shove something up your ass. Think you have problems walking now? Wait til this thing's changing the shape of your intestines." She lifted her cane up, gesturing at it for emphasis.

[gregory johnathan house]

[/color][/b]" he blinked, furrowing his brows a little at the thought. The truth was, she would be a little surprised. I mean sure, there was no doubt that Xzandr would bring up him seeing prostitutes, or something - but the truth was, nobody could really believe it unless they saw it first hand. Knew it was true. And it was true. It was a rare occasion that he ever got laid by finding someone at a bar; so why not go for those who were a guaranteed lay? Someone, like Lady Olivia, or Violet Nightshade? It wasn't often that he called up a "wicked city woman". No. Just when the stress and pain was unbearable. Just when he couldn't stand being lonely any longer. Just when he had accidentally walked in on Wilson changing in the men's locker room one day. Now, that he wouldn't mind seeing again. "Ugh, what am I high? Hardly enough Vicodin to get me high today." he thought to himself, staring at Xzandr with a sloppy grin plastered to his face. It wasn't like he thought his daughter was a slut. Mainly, he only figured she had slept around because he didn't know who the father was - and believe you, me... if Gregory House ever found out who the father was, he'd give that man what-for and his nicely polished cane shoved a few feet up his ass. No man was going to desert his only child - especially if a baby is involved.

At Xandr's next words, the elder House blinked and stared at her in some type of mock wonderment. Inside, he was completely appalled. Sure, he didn't act like he loved Anaxzandra, but the truth was he loved the girl to no end. He would die for her if ever the situation arose. She was his only child, after all. How could somebody not love their own child? It was obscene! Growling as Xzandr insulted him yet again, the elder House took a steop towards her and used one hand to hold himself up with the chair back again. He tapped his cane against the floor for a moment before exhaling deeply and throwing his eyes to the ceiling in frustration. "Just because I don't give a fuck about anyone in this hospital, doesn't mean that I don't care about them." Did that make any sense at all? Who cares, it didn't have to make sense. "Look, as much as I am an asshole to everybody, I care about them for some... fucked up reason. Nathalie helped me see that there was some fucked up type of good in everybody, and as much as I hate to admit it, yes. Yes, I do care about you." he sighed. "I don't give a fuck about what you, or rather who you do, but it doesn't mean that I don't care." How dare she say such a thing. Well, he could understand. Like father, like daughter, right?

Another thing that threw Gregory off was when his daughter laughed. What the fuck? Wasn't she angry just like... three seconds ago? Rolling his eyes to the ceiling once more, House shook his head as if he were trying to scramble something out of his mind. A sigh escaped, and he turned slightly so he could rest his ass on the back of the chair uncomfortably. "Nobody in this hospital believes a word you say anyways." he smirked cynically, tapping his cane against the floor again. He was bored. Again. Opening his mouth, he made a rather long and loud yawn escape from his mouth, a shake of his head quickly after thus adding to his expression. Hells, yeah. He was bored of this already. When she spoke again, House watched her with drowsy looking eyes, one foot crossed over the other so he was leaning more comfortably on the back of the chair. Was she finished yet? When her mouth finally shut, the elder House shrugged his shoulders and watched her raise the cane. "Yeah, little fucker. Great name. He won't get teased in school or nothing." he snorted, standing up as she gestured to her cane. Alright, he knew when he wasn't wanted. Limping over towards the doorway, Greg leaned against the door jamb... mainly just to piss her off and see if she'd do anything about him not actually leaving just yet. "You know," he started, lifting a hand to gaze at his finger nails briefly. "It's impossible for me to believe that someone that has carried another living being inside them for months, and then pass it out of them, can feel any hatred towards it after setting eyes upon it's face." House shrugged his shoulders and tilted his head. "I mean, I can understand why you'd be pissed off to no fucking end... but too feel hatred of something that was and still is a part of you?" he left it at that, rolling to his side so he could fall out into the hallway a bit so it didn't look like he was conversing with the Devil's mistress. "Think about it." House was about to leave his daughter to her thoughts, but when he turned around again to go find Wilson (so he could nag the living shit out of him), he bumped into one of the security guards of the hospital. Greg raised a brow and then popped his head into Xzandr's office once more. "Is this your doing?"[/size][/ul]

[anaxzandra corinne house]

» "Nothing is impossible," Xzandr said flatly, refusing to speak any more on the subject. Out loud, she would swear up and down she didn't care about her kid. Hell, there were a few people she flat-out told that if the NICU doctors and nurses didn't already know whose kid it was, she would straight-up leave him there and pretend he didn't exist. Actually, she could do that anyway, since she didn't really care how many people thought she was a horrible person, except for whatever legal action bored cops came up with. The kid simply wasn't worth jail time. She hadn't carried the kid for long, barely 22 weeks. Not long enough to form any sort of attachment, right? One thing House could have brought up, if he had known about it, was that she actually did care- otherwise, would she have told Ryan what she did? When he found her on her floor bleeding, after that still-unknown dickhead slammed the door into her, she told him not to let the baby die. But then again, she had also tried to tell him she wasn't hurt, that she was fine. So maybe at that point she had lost enough blood to mess with her mind. "He's not a fucking part of me! Not anymore." She was no longer physically attached to the kid, and had already professed how emotionally unattached she was. In time, it might develop, or she would work herself up to admitting she cared, but for now, there was no attachment of any sort. She didn't want to think about it; because she knew that if she were left alone to think, she would realize he was right.

» Xzandr was about to relax and get ready to go down and harass the pharmacist until he gave her some Vico, when she saw her father's face again and growled. "Was what my doing?" She looked past him and saw security, frowned, and shook her head. "Bitch, I never call security." Besides, she always knew that whenever her father came into her office, there was a distinct possibility that she would end up murdering the man. So why would she blatantly call security, and risk on of the Boys interrupting her murderous fun? "Get the fuck out!" Growling, she gave up, and stood back up, hobbling out the door. "Hold him," she mumbled as she shoved her way past Greg and the security guards. She needed her vicodin. She hadn't had nearly enough earlier, and the last thing she needed was to start detoxing again- God forbid she get clean ever again. She made her way down to the pharmacy, and was a bit disappointed that it was a new guy. Aw, he wouldn't be as easy to bully- new guys always called security if there was any problem. Didn't know her yet. She demanded- semi-politely- some Vicodin, signed the sheet, and gladly took the pill bottle, waiting until she was back around the corner to take a few of the pills.

» Luckily, by the time she got back to her office, nobody else was there. She was so not about to deal with Greg's old ass again- she was liable to actually try shoving the cane up his ass if she saw him again. She opened her door, slipped inside, and, because she was only partially paying attention, didn't completely turn the lock- it was turned about a third of the way, so it would only take a little bit of jiggling to open the door. She sat down in her chair behind her desk and turned to her computer, about to bring up iTunes and listen to some, oh, probably death metal, when she realized that she didn't really feel like it. And so the room fell into an eerie silence.

» The silence inevitably gave her room to think. Thinking wasn't something she ought to be doing. Because the more she thought, the more she realized that, as much as she hated to admit it, her father was right. She loved her child. It did completely break her heart that the little guy was still fighting for his life, with no break in sight. She was still unsure if he would even recover. What if she didn't get to take him home alive? No parent should ever have to bury their kid; it should always be the other way around. Taking a shaky breath, she leaned over, forehead in her palms. This was bullshit. She didn't love anything. Come on, who was she? She felt like she was losing herself, and the kid was to blame. But at the same time, was this really a bad change?

» Without thinking about it, she opened the vicodin bottle and before she really had time for any debating, there were a bunch of pills in her hand. Tapping the bottle again, she took out a few more pills, then a few more, and a few more until she was satisfied with the number. She had tried this once before and failed, because she took too many, and had overestimated her tolerance of the drug. Now she wasn't going to make that mistake. She counted the pills carefully, and then, satisfied the amount was correct, downed them all (dry), two at a time. She kind of sat there for a second, reflecting on why she was doing this, when she suddenly realized her door was easily openable with a little effort. She didn't get many visitors, true, but with her luck, one would show up just in time to save her life. She got up and started toward the door, intent on locking it. But halfway across the room, the drugs finally started to take effect, and she collapsed.

[gregory johnathan house]

[/i]! After being hurried as far away from Xzandr's office as the security thought possible, Gregory growled and spun right around, heading back the way they came. He was told to stop - in which Greg flipped the bird and simply said; "I'm getting my fucking meds!" Rolling his eyes as he finally hobbled up to the pharmacy, the elder House demanded he get his Vicodin, and was rudely aware of the fact that it was a new kid behind the counter. Fuck him. Greg tapped his cane impatiently on the linoleum floor, cursing under his breath at how long the kid took to get his prescription. "Finally." he snapped, snatching the pen beside the sign out sheet and scribbling underneath another persons name. As he opened the lid and placed two in his open hand, the kid reached over and grabbed Gregory's wrist. Fire blazed in the man's eyes, and he glared first at the hand of the kid, and then at the face of the kid. It was apparent that the kid was scared beyond all belief... but he was just doing his job, right? "And what the hell do you think you are doing?" he growled, thwacking the kids hand and then popping the pills into his awaiting mouth. Dry swallowing them, the kid told him that he had already signed the sheet for Vicodin not a few moments before. Not him, exactly, but someone getting the drugs for him - he assumed. "Are you a fucking idiot? That was my daughter. If you looked a little more closely, you'd see the distinct A after the name House above my very neatly printed G. Now shut up, and get back to work."

Dumbass. Oh, Xzandr would get an earful for calling security on him. He might as well... take her Vicodin. Yeah, that's it. He would take her Vicodin, and not allow any of the staff to give her any. He would do everything and anything in his power to watch her go through withdrawals. Just like she had made him do those couple weeks a few months back. Now, that was Hell. Hands down. Reaching her office, he noticed the door was closed again. "Awe, sulking in our office now, are we?" he grinned, turning the handle to open the door. It was a little more difficult opening this time around... as if someone hadn't locked the door properly. Upon entering, he was about to open his mouth to say something and then realized that nobody was at the desk; at that exact moment, he remembered also that he had left one of his patients folders in here the other day - better look for it. Taking a step forward, he then noticed his daughter laying on the floor in a very crumpled and yet sprawled out manner. "You know," he started, stepping more into the room and making a circle around her to get to one of her filing cabinets. "Throwing temper tantrums like you're four again isn't really that professional."

Digging through various files, he shut one of the drawers and then opened another, casually thumbing through them to look for the vaguely familiar name in his mind. Turning around and slamming the drawer closed, he noticed she was still on the floor. "Not gonna get up, huh?" he sighed, moving to look on her desk for the missing folder. His caught something more particular, in fact. A familiar orange bottle. Vicodin. "You know, you caused me a lot of trouble at the Pharmacy. I was about to..." he trailed off as he lifted the bottle, feeling how light it was. This wasn't a full bottle. He knew Anaxzandra... she only got a full prescription or nothing. There were way too many taken out of this bottle. Glancing back to where his daughter lay, he noticed a twitch, and then a full out convulsion. Dropping his cane, Gregory raced to his daughters side, throwing himself down to his knees and turning her so she lay on her side. "Xzandr?" he asked quickly, slapping his hand against her face a couple times to try and wake her up. "Anax... Anaxzandra!?" he then shouted, realizing right away what his only child had done.

Lifting her up, there was no time to look for any stupid gurneys to throw her on and wheel her with. He simply carried her - to the best of his abilities. His leg was complaining the whole while, but at the moment, House did not care one measly bit. This was his baby they were talking about here! Shoving a nurse out of the way, he raced into the nearest room, placing her on the bed and spinning around so fast he could swear he was out the door before her head hit the pillow. Out in the hallway, he shouted various demands, not caring if anyone was busy with other patients or not. Shoving another doctor in, he was beginning to hate himself for not starting to work on her right away; but he knew, because he was in a huge panic, something he would do... probably wouldn't be right. Or well enough, in his own opinion. Breathing heavily, he watched the rush in the room from behind the glass wall, swearing under his breath as they pumped her stomach and did what they could. What seemed like days for the elder House, they were finally finished, and when another of the doctors came out and told him that he were to wait for her to wake up, he bit back the feeling of his throat constricting. Entering the room in a horrid limp, Greg sat himself down next to the bed, reaching out to hold her hand for a moment. "Am I really that much of a hard ass, that you'd go and try to off yourself to get away from me?" he joked sadly, waiting for any signs of her waking up. When she did, he would release her hand and place it in his lap warily. This day was just getting worse and worse it seemed.[/size][/ul]

[anaxzandra corinne house]

» Like most people attempting suicide, Xzandr hadn't fully thought through all the consequences. All that was going through her head was what a horrible person- horrible mother- she was, and how her father was right, completely dead-on. She was fully convinced that the hospital would be better off without her. Her father was a good enough diagnostician to cover her cases too, wasn't he? Come on, he was House: The Original. She was just him, essentially, with a vagina and some titties. He didn't need those distractions to do a good job as a doctor. He didn't need her. What she failed to take into account was the people she would be leaving behind. Her child would be, obviously, motherless. Ryan didn't have enough of a backbone to step up, admit it was his kid, and take charge of its care. And was her father really up to going back to caring for a baby again, by himself; especially one as frail as Xzandr's?

» Strange how days can change so quickly. Not too long before, she had been in an eccentric mood. She had been drawing embarrassing things on her father's whiteboard, as part of their childish little prank war. What happened between now and then- how did that drawing possibly lead to her having to have her stomach pumped? Only Xzandr and Gregory would ever truly know. Bystanders might speculate, but nobody could ever truly know what went on in the thought processes of anyone who bore the name House.

» Lucky for the ER doctors, Xzandr was (obviously) completely unconscious the whole time. Otherwise, they may very well have had to sedate her. She'd have been bitching at them the whole time, and if she'd have had to drink the charcoal herself, she would have flat-out refused. The cafeteria food was bad enough, but liquid charcoal was straight-up nasty. She had another seizure on the table, which they quickly stopped with more drugs. For a while before Gregory was allowed into the room, her vital signs were all over the place, and it seemed like she might actually get her wish- her heart actually stopped once. But, just before they were about to give up, she started stabilizing, and ten they let the elder House in to see her. It might be a while before she woke up, they told him, and she either wouldn't remember much or would refuse to talk about it.

» Slowly coming out of the abyss of unconsciousness, Xzandr heard a voice, which she at first thought was the voice of God himself- and soon realized that, according to what he'd said earlier, it was indeed God. Her father was saying... something. She didn't catch all of it, just something about getting away from him. Hell, yeah- it seemed like all they did the past few years was fight, avoid each other, and have Mortal Kombat-style fights every time they met in the halls. But death couldn't tear these two apart. "Like I wouldn't see you in Hell anyway," she said, mostly in a whisper. Her voice wouldn't go as high as she wanted it to, and she wasn't even sure he would hear or notice she had spoken. The oxygen mask on her face fogged up a bit, which was usually an indicator that she had, indeed, spoken. She gave his hand a little squeeze, as if to confirm she was awake, or at least partially responsive.

» She moaned softly, opening her eyes about half way. "The fuck...?" She saw part of her father's face, but also the IV pole, with what seemed like a shitload of IVs. How did they even find enough space to plunge all those needles?! She couldn't read the labels from where she was, and made a mental note to check them out closer later one- if she didn't escape, that is. Moaning again, Xzandr forced words to pass through her vocal cords. "Get me vico..." She was, of course, detoxing already. The stomach pumping took all the vicodin out of her system, and, being the hardcore addict that she was- and she would readily admit it, as if it were something to be proud of- her withdrawal symptoms were coming on quickly. This would be fun.

[gregory johnathan house]

[/i] believe it. Gregory House, simply just did not want to. Hearing a faint whisper, the elder House leaned down to just catch the end of the sentence whispered to him. A soft, forced chuckle spilled from his lips, and he shook his head. When Xzandr squeezed his hand, the man shook his head, then moved it so it rested in his lap. He would not let his daughter see him so vunerable. Gregory House was not a wuss. He was not a wimp. He was strong, and stubborn, and mean... and... completely miserable. House wasn't allowed to show weakness. That was just... absurd! When he heard Xzandr swear, he could tell she was starting to come to, and think a little more clearly. The man opened his mouth to say something, but when she moaned and asked to get her some Vicodin... the drug that nearly killed her... House lost it. Greg's breathing came to him a little more heavy, quicker, and he could feel his face heating up in frustration and irritation. How could she be... How could Xzandr be so... Stupid!?

"Dammit, Anaxzandra!" Greg shouted, standing and kicking back the chair he was sitting in. Lifting his hands, he threaded his fingers through his hair, and paced around the room with difficulty. "After trying to kill yourself with Vicodin, and after getting a near entire bottle of Vicodin pumped from your stomach, you want more fucking Vicodin!?" Moving to lean against the wall closest to her hospital bed, House shook his head furiously and slammed a fist into the wall. "Are you a fucking idiot!?" he shouted, not caring anymore if security was called on him - like it usually was when he was shouting this loudly, and this much - and definately not caring if it stressed Xzandr out and caused anything to go wrong. She was just kind of getting herself under control, wasn't she?

Growling deep in his throat - he reminded himself of a Doberman - Greg limped over to his daughter's bedside and glared down on her with flustered eyes. "Anaxzandra, why!? What the fuck can be so bad in your life right now that you'd go and attempt suicide!?" Growing even a little more angry, House pushed down on the bed next to the younger House's ribs and whirled around to place his hands on the wall; the wall holding him up as he literally shook with rage. "What the hell were you thinking, Xzandr..." he muttered, wondering seconds later if he had really said anything at all. It seemed so... dream-like. This couldn't be real. This was all a really... really bad dream. One of those dreams, where you know it's just a dream... but you just can't wake up, because you wanna know what happens next. A sudden jolting cough caught greg's attention, and he spun around to see a splatter of blood in the oxygen mask. Glaring at the small splatter while his daughter coughed, he turned his head only slightly to shout; "We need a nurse in here!" Watching Xzandr curiously as a nurse rushed in to figure out what to do, Greg just froze in his spot. Creulean blue eyes watched the delicate fingers of the nurse work on cleaning the mask, and doing a few other things... he wasn't exactly paying attention, as he simply zoned out - thinking about what could have driven his daughter to do this.

"Life isn't fair, Xzandr. Everybody goes through their own shit," he began, realizing the nurse had finished, and was already on her way out. "I know what it's like to go through hard ships. I was raised on hard ships. Raised on false truths, and true lies." Coughing from the girl before him jarred him from his zone-like state, and he growled, watching some more blood, though not as much this time, splatter the mask again. Turning for the door to leave, House reached out to hold himself up with the door jamb, turning his head slightly to continue speaking over Xzandr's coughing. "Just because life has a majority of downs doesn't mean you have to go and try to fix things this way. Just think... there's a silver lining to every storm cloud that hovers above your head. Your baby is sick... sure. But he's alive. Who knows, he might even make it out alive... you know? You're a bitch, but yet I still love you." Greg shook his head one more time as she coughed again, and the man shouted at the nurse again as she raced by him. "Clean up in aisle five!" One thing that caught him just before he left though... was some sort of strangled whisper. It sounded like... Dad... But he couldn't be sure. Whether she had said it or not, House was hesitant on his leave. Had she really said what he thought she did? "Say again?" he asked in a dull, exhausted voice. Would he ever need a damn good nap after this. Fuck.[/ul][/size]

[anaxzandra corinne house]

» Her father threw the word 'idiot' around a lot, not only now but in everyday life. To her, it was kind of like a term of affection. You were nobody until Gregory House said the words "you're an idiot", or some variation thereof, to you. It was, she supposed comparable to getting a Nobel Prize. Sort of. He was just that epic. Well, mostly. In some seemingly rare incidents, it did mean you were an idiot, and that you had done something incredibly fucking stupid. Xzandr had realized what she did was really fucking stupid when she woke up in a hospital bed and after uttering just a few words had her father yelling at her. Of course, had she succeeded, it wouldn't be nearly so stupid. Even his yelling didn't really have a bearing on how stupid she felt. Damn it, this was a stunt punk-ass sixteen-year-olds played when mommy and daddy didn't let them borrow the car because the child had forgotten to do homework the night before. Xzandr was no brat (not by her own definition, anyway) and for a couple seconds, couldn't for the life of her figure out a good reason as to why she'd done this stupid shit.

» "Ehh," she managed to give a noncommittal shrug. "Detoxing sucks. And your bitching is giving me a headache." He could give her some, or she could wait until he was out of her room, sneak out, and raid the pharmacy, thus risking passing back out on the floor. She was already feeling dizzy, and kind of nauseous, and knew getting up was nowhere near a good idea, but damn it, she needed wanted her Vicodin. She'd get it somehow, she vowed silently.

» Xzandr couldn't tell her father it was his fault she did it. If he hadn't bitched at her, made her realize what a horrible person she was and that she actually did care about her baby, she could have gone right along, continued claiming that she didn't give a shit, and being convinced he was going to die; his yelling at her before made her realize she did care, and that she felt immensely guilty for his current predicament, even though there was nothing she could have done and, by extension, it was really Ryan's fault, because if she hadn't been standing by her door at the window, watching him, she wouldn't have been in the position to get slammed by said door- though the guy that did it had a gun, and she was sure he would have shot her if she wasn't already incapacitated. But her reasons for not placing blame on her father outright- because she knew he would never figure it out on his own, because while he was the smartest man she knew, he was too narcissistic to figure out his own blame for anything- was that she physically couldn't; normally, she would have absolutely no problem, and feel no guilt whatsoever telling him such a thing. She tried to say more, but nothing slipped passed her vocal chords except what felt like a thick, sticky mucous.

» And then she smelt iron, and realized she was coughing up blood. Not again, she thought, all of a sudden feeling as though it was taking a conscious effort to breathe, even with the oxygen mask. Damn it, was this how she was going to die? Another pulmonary embolism? She was fucked. Her father didn't seem concerned that anything was particularly serious, nor did the nurse who simply cleaned the inside of her mask and started to leave. And her father was still yelling at her? What the fuck? You stupid bastard, she mouthed, though she couldn't vocalize it. Oh, whatever, she decided, and started to relax. Wasn't it her own damn fault? She hadn't been taking her anti-coagulant for a while, figuring that if a clot was going to kill her, it would be a shit ton better than taking that nasty shit. Besides, that stuff kind of had a weird side-effect on her; it kind of curbed her anger. But that was probably just in her head. Besides, wasn't this what she'd been wanting, to die? And how else was she supposed to accomplish this with Greg in the room?

» Xzandr tried to laugh, but only ended up coughing more, bringing up more blood. She couldn't remember the last time her father actually managed to throw the words "I love you" into a sentence and then utter them, though she was sure he'd probably done it once or twice- possibly more?- when she was a child, and certainly not recently. Coughing again, she groaned. Damn it... If somebody figured this out, and she lived, she was taking those damn meds. She could deal with being ever-so-slightly less bitchy if it meant not having to deal with this fuckery. And, she realized, she loved her father as well, though that was definitely something she couldn't remember actually uttering, even as a child. Hell, she skillfully circumvented those exact words when she was in school. Once, they had her class making father's day cards- or some other such bullshit- and she actually wrote "I appreciate your existence" on the inside of the rather plain card. And the teacher thought it must have been some sort of inside joke- damn was she wrong.

» "Dad-," she started, before another violent fit of coughing, which didn't stop even after the nurse came back. She vaguely heard Greg asking her to repeat what she said, and as hard as she tried, she couldn't do it, physically, nor could she muster up the cajones for it. She didn't protest as the nurse took off the oxygen mask, and actually offered something of an apologetic smile when, after coughing again, she got blood all over the nurse's green scrubs. The nurse yelled for a doctor- IRONY AHOY!- who came running in and lowered the back of Xzandr's bed, so she was laying flat, and started detaching things from the wall, intending to take her to the OR. "Dad," she finally managed to gasp, and added, just before getting taken away, "you were right..." And then they took her away.

» She was actually gone for a good long time, around an hour and a half, whilst they attempted to stabilize her. Once they finally got the coughing and bleeding under control- thankfully without the use of a ventilator, which Xzandr would have ripped out as soon as she woke up- they brought her back to her room, reattaching her stuff to the wall and making sure all her monitors and such were functioning properly before leaving the room once again.