HEro/heROINE

[anaxzandra corinne house]

I keep a sinister smile
And a hole in my heart

» There had never really been any "good" days for Xzandr, where she
woke up and felt completely healthy. Most days- about 99%- she woke up
to a massive headache, maybe an aching wrist, and the obvious- there
hadn't been a day in years that she didn't have a throbbing leg. Of
course, most of it went away for a while once she got her Vicodin in
her system, but it would return later, which was why she always had to
make sure she had plenty of the drug on her. This morning, as per the
usual, she had to have a rather lengthy debate with herself about the
pros and cons of dragging herself out of bed. Despite having to be at
the hospital, she was strongly leaning towards being a bum for the
day, just hiding under her covers (though from what, she had no
idea.) The deal-breaker was the lack of drugs in her bedside stash.
There was undoubtedly a full supply elsewhere, but she would have to
get up to get it, and she would never go back to bed once she was
fully up. She finally got up, wandering around her apartment for a bit
before getting dressed. Just before leaving, as she approached the
door, she stopped, turned, and all but made a beeline for the
bathroom. Luckily, there were no obstacles between Xzandr and her
destination- she doubted it would do any good for her leg if she had
to crouch down and clean vomit off the floor. Despite feeling quite
nauseous, and knowing full well that the drive to the hospital would
only make it suck worse, she decided to go. It wasn't the first time
lately that she had thrown up. In fact, one might assume she had found
religion, with the number of times she went to worship the porcelain
god. Yes, it sucked, and yes, she hated the hell out of it, but she
didn't let it keep her from work, nor did she make any effort thus far
to figure out what was wrong. She'd forced herself to get used to it;
ignore it and it will go away- right?

» She walked into the hospital nearly an hour late, and despite the
fact that it usually took her only about fifteen minutes to get to her
office- and that was if she walked exceptionally slow and had to stop
to yell at someone along the way- today, she ended up not making it
until nearly half an hour later. This was getting ridiculous.
Seriously. After taking an hour to rest in her office- luckily, the
nausea had almost completely subsided- she went back to the first
floor and snuck into an empty exam room. Luckily for Xzandr, it was an
exceptionally slow day, so she wasn't much needed, and doubted she
would get caught. She took a needle and vial, drawing some of her own
blood, before writing a false name on the label and falsifying a
medical file. She snuck back out of the exam room and headed straight
for the lab, where she gave the file and blood to a stunned lab
technician. "Put a rush on it," she ordered,
after rattling off a list f things to test for. She wanted to make
sure she caught this thing- what ever it was. The technician gave her
a suspicious glance. "Hurry!" she all but growled
at him. "If I don't catch what's wrong with this patient
ASAP, they will die, and then my cane will be getting very acquainted
with your color." The tech got wide-eyed and ran off,
promising to make it first priority. A short while later, Xzandr went
back into the lab to hassle the tech and was finally handed back her
file, with the lab report inside. "It's cool that you're so
concerned for the patient." Xzandr snorted. He was obviously new-
Xzandr didn't give a damn about her patients. She turned and
exited the lab, heading back upstairs to her office. She made a stop
along the way to once again worship the bathroom deity for about the
tenth time so far today, and then was finally able to collapse into
her chair. She hadn't looked at the lab report, but hoped whatever was
wrong was something she would just have to take a simple week-long
round of anti-biotics for; the last time she fell this ill was a few
months ago, when she was down for about a week for a pulmonary
embolism. It sucked, and she hoped this illness wasn't as serious. But
as soon as she opened the file, all the color drained from her face.
It may not kill her, but it would be a hell of a lot longer than a
week before all was said and done. So what was she going to do?

» After tucking the file safely under a pile of junk on her desk,
Xzandr left her office and headed down the hall. She didn't really
have a destination in mind, but just needed a walk to clear her head.
Unfortunately, head-clearing wasn't in the picture. She'd stopped
paying attention to where she was going, or she would have avoided him
completely. Before she knew it, there was a prescription pad being
shoved in her face, her father being the one holding it.
"No," Xzandr growled, pushing the paper out of
her face. "Go steal some from the pharmacy."
House growled back at her, "That would be illegal. Just sign the
damn scrip!" He wapped her on the back of the head with it.
"Fuck you!" Xzandr shouted, and lifted her hands,
placing them on her father's chest and shoving him backwards, as her
cane clattered to the floor. His followed, and before either knew what
was happening, the two were arguing loudly and trying to strangle each
other. It wasn't long before security showed up to pull the two apart.
One officer handed Xzandr her cane, and as soon as it was back in her
hand, she started shuffling down the hall again. Now she had a
destination. She wandered up to Ryan's office and, as usual, just let
herself in. She frowned a little, taking note that he wasn't even
there, but then shrugged and sat in his chair. She would wait for him
to show up. Xzandr and Ryan were, as far as she could tell, very
complicated. They had never verbally agreed on what was to be going
on; it just sort of happened. After they first met and randomly
screwed in the elevator, it just seemed okay to randomly screw
anywhere, whenever they felt like it. They never discussed it, but it
was a silent, almost subconscious agreement between them. They were
simply fuck-buddies, with no string attached. As far as she could
tell- as far as she would admit- they had both been sticking to that.
She wouldn't lie, though- there had been some great times. Most of the
time, it was one catching the other in their office, and then they'd
do it on the floor, and sometimes one would see the other in the hall
at random and one would drag the other into the janitor's closet.
Xzandr loved the randomness of it, the roughness… Lately, even though
she would refuse to admit it, she had started to stay longer with
Ryan. It was never very long, or obvious to her. Instead of dressed
and leaving right away, she would linger for a couple of minutes,
either just lying there with his or kissing him… something. If asked
about it, she would deny it meant anything at all, either claiming she
was just lazy, or making up some bullshit excuse. It couldn't
mean anything… could it? After all, she was the emotionally-absent
Xzandr House, incapable of forming emotional bonds… wasn't she?

» Any other time, she would start snooping through Ryan's desk and
files, not necessarily because she gave a damn about what he was
working with, but because she wanted to know. She was a naturally
curious person, naturally wanting to know everything about everything
and everyone, just to say she knew it. But right now, she was simply
exhausted. Despite the fact that it was barely noon, she was tired-
who wouldn't be, what with the number of times she emptied the
contents of her stomach into a toilet, her very physical fight with
her father, and what she read in the lab report. She managed to keep
her head up just a few more minutes, then laid it down on top of a
file, and drifted off into an uneasy sleep, still pretty pale and with
a faint bruise forming on her neck. Her cane rested on the floor under
the chair.

Especially for RYAN DARCY

[ry]

The break room door slammed behind him as he stalked down the hallway, a murderous look upon his features. Hands were balled into tight fists as his long stride carried him effortlessly down the corridor, olive eyes scanning the hallway with intent efficiency. One of the interns had given a patient the wrong medication and he had just spent the last thirty minutes trying to keep the man’s heart beating. Normally, Ry could have let it slide with only a few words about the incident, but this was the third time this week the intern had done something like this, and it was beginning to piss him off. The fact that he’d been on call the entire night after a previous shift didn’t lighten his mood in the slightest, and a part of him prayed that he wouldn’t find the intern for fear of what he’d do to him. White lab coat flapped in his wake as he rounded a corner, his shoulders stiffened and his jaw clenched tightly, head held high as he continued his search. Within ten minutes, he’d learned that the intern had gone home for the day and that he wasn’t due back until the next week. With a low sigh, Ryan visibly deflated and slowly his fists relaxed. There’d be no confrontation today, a fact that Ry was vaguely thankful for, he was pretty much dead on his feet and his emotions were being pulled in every direction. He’d never really faired well, mentally, when he was sleep deprived. Luckily, he only had a few more hours on his shift before he could retire for the day, probably sleep through the night and part of the next day, and then he’d be back in to start work all over again. All he had left to do was a few files of paperwork; otherwise, he was pretty much free for the rest of his shift. Eyes blinked wearily as he headed toward his office, his steps now slow and all the tension from his body utterly gone, leaving him completely exhausted. His course altered on a whim, and he sauntered into the cafeteria. Within five minutes, he had a cup of bitter black coffee in his hands and the aroma was already doing wonders to his conscious state.

He took a hearty sip, hissing in annoyance as the liquid scorched its way down his throat and bubbled in his stomach. Lips turned downward in a grimace as he forced himself to take another sip, steeling himself for the heat. Almost immediately, his head cleared and although his body still felt as if he’d been run over by a garbage truck or something of the like, he was able to focus on his surroundings without appearing in a mental fog. Brows furrowed in indecision, and he decided not to head to his office just yet. Paperwork could wait, really, and he was craving some fresh air. It wasn’t a far walk to the staff veranda, and he shouldered the doors open with ease. He quietly padded over to the railing and leaned his forearms against it, bent over. Soft gaze roamed the scenery, finding nothing of interest within the choice scenery. Lips parted as he inhaled deeply, the crisp air easing the pain of the coffee, as well as clearing his head even more. For the many hours he’d been on shift, he actually hadn’t been too busy. A few near losses in the ER and some routine patient check-ups were mostly what occupied his time, and he’d flitted between his regulars and other departments in the in-between times. Still, it had been a long time to be on his feet, and even the few winks he’d gotten in the on-call room weren’t enough to keep him standing much longer with out the aid of caffeine. Oncology was a hard field, especially for him. He’d never realized how much it would upset him each time he had a terminal patient come in. Of course, he knew he was helping them out by managing their pain and keeping their hopes up with new treatments, but sometimes he wondered if he could see the hopelessness in his eyes. He wasn’t sure, even now, why he’d chosen the field when he’d already lost people dear to him, and though he tried to remain professional with his patients, it didn’t mean it hurt any less when they finally succumbed to the disease. He tried to off-balance that by spending as much time as he could in the lesser-fatality units, just so he could be separated from death at least some of the time. At the end of the day, he attempted to shrug off his patients along with his lab coats, but some nights his dreams were plagued with lives lost and those to come, interspersed with his own losses. Needless to say, he spent many sleepless nights trying to avoid those nightmares.

Quite suddenly, and without warning, his thoughts shifted toward Xzandr. Ah, now she was a puzzle. They’d spent the last couple of months dancing around each other, fucking when they could and promising when they couldn’t. Ry had never really been a physical guy, but that was what this relationship was, quite basically, physical. Every one had needs, but they’d just so happened to find a way to become satisfied without the sticky mess of emotions and circumstances. He wasn’t quite sure if it scared the hell out of him or filled him relief. Some days it was both. It seemed to work for the both of them, two lonely souls who’d never really gotten it right in the love department, or at least that’s how Ry was. He figured he’d had his chance with love, and after that, it just wasn’t going to happen again. So this was the second best thing. Ryan was consciously blocking out the thoughts of where this was heading. It wasn’t like they were destined to be together, or were head over heels in love, he imagined at one point or another, one of them would loose interest, or circumstances would prevent them continuing what they were doing. As far as he was concerned, he was content to let the little fling, or whatever they were calling it, go on until it stopped. He certainly had no objections to current arrangements. Sometimes he’d pick up a shift, just because he knew there was a chance he’d run into Xzandr, but he told himself it was only because he enjoyed the sex so much. He had to admit, he was having more ‘fun’ on the job than he had in years, he always enjoyed figuring out where he and Xzandr might ‘meet’ that day. Ry flinched as a tiny pinprick of moisture plopped off the tip of his nose and he realized with a start it was raining. A scowl drifted across his face as he pushed himself roughly from the railing and spun on his heel, back toward the safety of the hospital. Once he’d reached the dryness of the inside, he shook himself, almost like a dog, and ran a hand through his ebony locks. Like most days, his hair was in a struggle between professionally mussed and ‘oh lord, I just got out of bed,’ styles.

The halls were relatively empty, only a few nurses skittering about as they tended to patients, a few doctors entering random rooms and some family members of patients wandering around. It was almost peaceful, with the soft beeps and noises coming from heart monitors, the monotony of the hospital almost lulling him to sleep standing up. He took a sip of his lukewarm coffee to ward off the fatigue and braced his shoulders as he strode down the hall. He reached his office in no time flat and he opened the door without hesitation. Once inside he faltered his expression guarded, as his olive eyes stayed focused upon the desk. It only took him a few moments to recognize the figure and a brow rose in curiosity, even as he bit back some remark, she looked pretty damn tired after all. He bit his lip as he shrugged out of his lab coat and silently hung it up upon his coat rack, occasionally casting a gaze Xzandr’s way. He wasn’t sure why she was here, and he wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed by the intrusion or go with his first instinct of looking forward to her visits in any context. He waited a few more minutes, tidying up the shelves across from the desk, before he decided to wake her. She obviously wanted something or she wouldn’t have been in his office, and he sort of needed to finish his paperwork. “Xzandr,” he said, his voice soft but loud enough to let her know he was here, even as he laid a hand against her shoulder. His olive eyes rested on her expectantly.

[anaxzandra corinne house]

» Xzandr's mood could never be described as good. Like her days, her moods were mostly only bad and worse. Pissing her off made it worse. Waking up to a throbbing leg would make it bad. Waking her up, as Ryan just had, made it worse. She was never a morning person- though this technically wasn't the morning- and hated to be woken up, especially when she badly needed sleep. She shifted a little, having been awoken by her name being said. "What?" She flailed one arm at him, opening one eye to see who it was. "What the hell are you doing here?" As she opened both eyes, she noticed a piece of paperwork on the desk, one that had his name on them. And then the nameplate. Oh. It's his office..She sighed, sitting up, and rubbed the back of her neck. "I wasn't sleeping. There was a bug in my eyes. I was trying to suffocate him. Or her. I'm pretty sure bugs are androgynous. Or they can change at will. Maybe that's frogs. Yeah... frogs... Wasn't that the entire premise of Jurassic Park? The dude was all 'holy balls, how did the dinosaurs reproduce?' but then they figure out it's because the dinosaur changed its gender because it could, because they finished the missing DNA sequences with frog DNA. I doubt that would be possible, though. You'd end up with a giant-ass T-rex with like...I don't know... The ability to jump really high, and a long tongue so I doesn't even have to chase after those little things it eats." Sometimes she wondered why she didn't shut herself up while she was ahead, instead of rattling on some long story about something completely random, where not even she could make sense of it. Often, it made her sound like an idiot, and left whoever she was talking to wondering why they had talked to her in the first place. In Ryan's case, she was pretty sure that, if she were not in his office, he would have simply walked away. "Ugh." She placed one palm on her forehead and rubbed. "This is bullshit. If I have a massive headache, it ought to be because of a hangover. At least I'd have had fun that way. But nooo. Hmph."

» She sighed and leaned down, grabbing her cane. "You've got some work to do," she half-grumbled, gesturing with her free hand at the massive pile of papers. "I'll get out of your way. I didn't really have anything important to say anyway." This was so not her. She never left simply because someone had a lot of work to do. If she wanted to say something to them, she would. And she never, ever said that something she needed to say wasn't important. As far as she was concerned, everything that came out of her mouth was a golden nugget of utmost importance, that everybody who heard must memorize or suffer the consequences. But she was so rattled by the entire morning that, other than her not-so-little rant about Jurassic Park, she couldn't even think of anything snappy to say to him, until she were to take a long while to think about it. Placing one hand on the desk and the other on her cane, she pulled herself upright and nodded a little. "Later," she breathed, brushing past him on her way to the door. At the door, she opened it, and was halfway out of the room when she stopped in the doorway, debating. Should she just turn around now, walk right up to him, and say it to his face? Or should she go the pansy route and say it, then run and hide? Anything else- anything at all- she could have said it to his face, telling him to Deal with it! But not this. Not now. She would have an easier time telling him that she had cancer and was going to die in a week. She could, of course, say nothing at all. That would work for a while, at least buying her some time so she could think of something to say. But then nothing would work. He'd know from something other than her telling him, and then.. well, she'd be fucked. Squeezing the top of her cane tightly, she made a decision. "That looks like it's gonna suck ass," she quipped, trying to give her statement some context, at least. She took a deep breath and, looking straight ahead and ready to dash right away- body and cane poised for a mad dash to the nearest hiding-place- "Oh, I'm knocked up by the way." And then she ran. She ran harder than she had since... Well, harder than she had her whole life. Even the championship lacrosse game back in high school didn't have her running this fast, nor did that time she and her father chased each other around the hospital. But she couldn't panic. She wanted to, honestly, because that was the easiest route. But she couldn't. If she panicked, hiding would be that much harder. Without a clear mind, she wouldn't be able to find a hiding place that would be effect. Where should she go? Ryan would be able to find her in her office, nobody would allow her to stay in theirs, the on-call room and janitor's closet were too obvious... The bathroom? That was an obvious place, but he couldn't actually get her there. Then suddenly, she realized she needed to go there anyway. After rounding a corner and looking over her shoulder to make sure she wasn't being pursued, she ducked into the nearest female bathroom.

[ry]

Interacting with people, most days, was rather like an obligation for Ry. It came with the territory of his job, there was no way one could treat patients without at least spending a moment of time with them, especially in his field where the work relied so heavily on the observations of the attending doctor. If he’d known just how much time he’d spend interacting with his patients, he just might have accepted that job as a researcher, hidden away in the back room glued to a microscope. In all honesty, he’d probably be happier back there. Still, it wasn’t as if anyone could complain about how he conducted himself, Ry was one of the few doctors that could be completely professional without appearing as if he wished they’d go off and die already. A true talent if there ever was one. A look of amusement crossed his features as she flailed at him, and he took the opportunity to increase the distance between them. The amusement shifted into a bemused, but still faintly entertained expression, his brows raised and teeth held firmly on his lips to keep a smile at bay. “’s kind of my office,” he said, his tone airy but quiet, as if the response was made to fade into the background. He turned to inspect one of his certificates on the walls, olive eyes traced over familiar names of cities he’d stayed in and hospitals he’d worked at. Still, even as he inspected the glass covering upon the frame, he listened absently to her rant about bugs, and not sleeping, and dinosaur frogs, and despite himself, his lips twisted into a shadow of a grin. He cast a inquiring look over his shoulder, the tension of earlier practically melting off his shoulders, whether it was because he found himself in the safe familiarity of his office, or more to do with the person who was occupying his desk. After a few more moments of vague scrutinizing, he turned back to face his desk, feeling slightly off kilter. Usually he was the one hiding behind the safety of his desk when someone entered his domain, and the fact that he was out in the open, though for the most part she was unthreatening enough, didn’t exactly put him at ease. He shifted on the balls of his feet, a fleeting expression of sympathy crossing his features.

Lips parted as he tried to think of some light, airy conversation that wouldn’t cause either of them to think too deeply or become too involved, but she was already speaking and he snapped into focus. Brows rose, mostly because usually when she hung around he had to practically shove her out the door, especially if she just wanted to annoy him, and second because she never usually came around without some intent or purpose. They just weren’t the type to stop by and say hello, there was usually a reason involved, whether it be physical or verbal. “Not that much,” he attempted, but bit his lip all the same. After all, he really did want to finish all this paperwork and get it over with, and then drive home, hopefully avoid a car accident, and collapse into bed, preferably not waking for another sixteen hours at the least. Not that he didn’t like when she was around, he did, truly, although he probably wouldn’t admit the fact point blank, but he was so exhausted at the current moment, it was all he could do to cling to the last ounce of consciousness offered to him by the caffeine weakly pumping through his system. Even so, he searched his mind for a reason to make her say, something they hadn’t discussed recently but would undoubtedly keep her around for another half hour or so. He came up with nothing. That was probably because his mind was horribly sleep deprived, or that most of there interaction happened to be of the physical kind. He frowned, halting steps following her across the floor, but he halted once she stood in the doorway. He watched her warily, not liking the expression her face, although he couldn’t actually place it. He waited, hands curled into loose fists at his sides, his posture straight even if his shoulders slumped slightly. Ever since med-school he’d become adept at evading fatigue, or at least passing it off like it wasn’t there. A confused look spread across his face, although he was really too tired to give it that much definition. His stomach flipped squeamishly, and he swallowed, his mind sluggishly racing with all the possible things that could follow such a statement. It didn’t comfort him any that he just couldn’t think of something completely logical when it was Xzandr saying those words. His mind was not put to ease at the least at her posture, with her looking for the entire world as if she were a bird just waiting for an excuse to take flight. The words didn’t register at first; he just watched her dash down the hall, feeling muddled and a little bit irritated. It was only when he turned to head back to his desk that the syllables registered in his ears and he froze, his stomach twisting into a incorrigible knot, with an icy feeling spreading throughout his gut as if he’d been punched, or maybe stabbed with a cane. After a few moments, he had to remind himself to breathe, and with that gasped breath, he tried in vain to control his thoughts. First, how the hell had this happened, although the doctor part of his mind quite rudely reminded him all the actions that would result in such a thing. The second, well, the second one had escaped him as soon as the first entered his mind. Without really thinking, he strode out of his office, perhaps slamming the door with a little more force than necessary, and his pace more suited to that of someone jogging down a racetrack, he headed toward her office. Of course, he knew she wouldn’t be there, but she’d be there eventually, and he’d wait all damn night if he had to. It was a good thing her door was unlocked, or he might have ripped it off its hinges with the force he opened it. He crossed the room, his stride long and swift, and practically threw himself into a chair. He was so focused on being angry that pretty soon he depleted what remained of his energy. Within five minutes he was slumped, sound asleep in the chair, his brow furrowed even as his muscles relaxed.

[anaxzandra corinne house]

» As Xzandr spit out the water she'd just swished around her mouth- hospital tap water wasn't the best-tasting liquid in the world, but it was infinitely better than the vomit she'd just tasted yet again- back into the sink, she thought of ways she could possibly avoid Ryan for the rest of her life. Now, she could simply run from him, somewhat, if she were to see him first and have a significant head start, but eventually running would be out of the question. She would also lose the ability to duck, and bend in ways that could be more conducive to hiding, which were key to right now. She knew that, yes, she could ask to have her shift changed, but then again, so could he. And there was no telling when he would be there overtime, or on-call, or being enlisted into the Army of Darkness (the clinic.) There was no way she could completely avoid him. She would have to face him eventually, and though she hated to admit it- even just to herself- it kind of scared her. She hadn't had a chance to see his face, his reaction, but doubted it would be he 'favorable' kind. Was there a way she could soften the blow? That wasn't her style. And she couldn't think of anything that Ryan wouldn't immediately know was bullshit. Did she have to talk to him now, though?

» Then another thought crossed her mind- where had he gone? Had he stayed in his office, or what? She knew he didn't follow her, because she suspected that if he had, he'd be right beside her right now demanding an explanation. She also doubted he'd stayed in his office. In the time she'd known him she'd observed him, and had a pretty solid idea about what made him tick. Obviously, she didn't know everything, but she could tell; he wouldn't just sit there and stew. He'd go somewhere else and stew. Would he have gone to her office? Was there a safe way to check? She grabbed her cane from its resting place leaning against the wall and headed out of the bathroom, deciding to check. She took the long way around- since her office was second to last by a corner, it was ideal for her current objective- and finally got to the corner, peering into her window. She scowled. Ryan was there... but he wasn't moving. Her first instinct was to run in and take his pulse but then, she realized, he was sleeping. Any other time, she would have made a dirty joke out of it, or sat on his lap and woken him up. How long would he be there? As long as it took, she figured. He wasn't just going to let this go. How long could she go without going into her own office? She had a bottle of Vicodin in her pocket, and several at home, so she wouldn't be in dire need in the next couple of hours. There weren't really any pressing cases that she needed to solve right that second, so she didn't need case files. She had her cane right there beside her... There were plenty of places she could do her thing until he left, and once he did, she'd make sure the door was always locked, especially when she was inside. Could she out wait him, though? She was really stubborn, but so was he. And it wasn't like she had the longest of patiences...

» Just as she was considering turning back and conquering Ryan's office, since he had effectively done the same thing to hers, she got another unexpected visitor. She heard the tap of cane on floor, and looked over her shoulder to see her father, once again. "Go away, old man. I'm not in the mood for your bullshit." Of course, that didn't deter him. Why would it? She'd said it to him even on days they hadn't tried to kill each other, and he didn't listen. He was the kind of person who would push and push until he broke someone. But Xzandr had a shorter fuse than usual, and when her father took another step toward her, she gave up trying to be a civilized human being. Unfortunately for House, he had stepped into what she called her 'sphere of reach'. She reached out, easily reaching him, and planted a hard punch right on his nose. "FUCK!" he shouted loudly, probably startling more than a few of the nearby hospital employees. Xzandr wondered if one of the nurses who'd heard him were now calling security. House took a swing back, but by that time, Xzandr was on the move, though she was backing up- she was angry, but not stupid, and knew turning her back to the man was a huge mistake. As she started past her office window, both had their canes raised, and had started to take swings at each other with those, almost like a lightsaber battle. But when Xzandr's cane was knocked from her hand by a particularly hard blow from the other cane, House threw his to the floor, and soon the dynamic duo was trying to strangle each other for the second time that day.

[ry]

Ryan hovered in a place somewhere between sleep and consciousness for what seemed like the longest while. Exhausted as he was, he couldn’t slip all the way into sleep, at least not far enough to erase the burden of the word’s she’d spoken minutes earlier. He focused all of his conscious thought on keeping his breathing even and slow, hoping he’d be fully enveloped in a dreamless sleep eventually. Screw the fact he detested being so vulnerable in a place that was so unfamiliar to him, he honestly couldn’t bring himself to care at this point. All he had to do was keep his thoughts clear and vague, his mind empty. If he could keep that up until he was safe enough to drive home, he could avoid a huge breakdown in the hospital. The last thing he needed was a referral to psych and a paid leave of absence. Even as he tried to coax himself into slumber, his fists clenched tightly, pale skin taunt and muscles tensed. The momentary relaxation he’d felt as he’d slumped into the chair was gone now, replaced by an uncomfortable pressure that only barely alluded to what could happen if he couldn’t control his mind. How could he be a father? Ryan Darcy, recluse extraordinaire, enough bad memories to fuel a thousand nightmares and with his mother’s temper to boot. The last thing he needed was to have this sort of responsibility, especially when his own childhood had been less than perfect.

By this time, he was just going through the motions of appearing to sleep. As the minutes passed he could feel that ball of anxiety growing exponentially in the pit of his stomach, and with that, the fire of anger reignited, burning a quick and scorching path through his veins. Ry was good with emergencies and taking charge of situations that he could be detached from, observe with a professional interest at he most. Once it became personal, he completely blanked on how to go about dealing with the problem, especially one of this magnitude. It wasn’t so much he’d never wanted kids, no he imagined small children were great, older ones too, but the thought of fathering them. Being around and teaching them things, life lessons that would sustain them? Helping them survive? Well that just wasn’t Mr. Darcy, and he was quite certain any offspring of his would eventually grow to resent him because he couldn’t give them what he wanted to. He was afraid they’d end up like him. To keep the panic from overwhelming him, he forced his thoughts to slow, focused on the soft thumping of his heart in his ribcage, safe and even. He tuned out all other noises, not that there were many, and counted the beats in his head, one, two, one, two over and over again until he was sure he wasn’t about to puke all over her carpet. He was half-tempted to do it anyway, just because. Sure, it wasn’t fair to lay the blame upon her, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to shoulder all the blame. Absently, carefully, he wondered how long she’d take to get back and the anxiety started to creep back, and he realized the last thing he wanted to do was have ‘the’ discussion. Quite frankly he felt like finding a nice dark corner to hide in and staying there until the end of the world. Or his eventual death, whichever might happen to come first. In this day and age, it was hard to tell which was more likely to happen first.


His stomach rolled and he swallowed heavily, cautiously opening his eyes, deciding that maybe waiting for her wasn’t such a good idea if he wasn’t sure he actually wanted to talk to her. Socially, Ryan wasn’t exactly what you’d call a butterfly. Society was good, dandy as long as it kept its distance, but come close, and he’d close up like clam. He had manners and the like, he’d use them occasionally too, but he lacked any sort of grace and finesse to navigate awkward situations. This was most definitely an awkward situation. Olive eyes took in her office, expression resigned, indifferent. It wasn’t all that different from his, but he still didn’t feel comfortable here. Lips parted as he ran his tongue along his skin, his hands gripping the arms of the chair so hard his knuckles turned white. He didn’t want this! The thoughts trickled in, his mind’s barriers defenseless against the onslaught. He wouldn’t panic here, he couldn’t, but he knew as soon as he got home he’d be a mess. Sleep deprivation and finding out news as big as this didn’t exactly mix well. Especially for someone like Ry. The sound of the expletive shot through the air so suddenly Ryan jumped, literally, about a foot from his chair and landed hard, limbs shaking. Breath exhaled in a shaky sigh and he swallowed hard, eyes drawn to the window where he could make out shapes of figures he vaguely recognized. He took a moment to look closer and the fire burned hotter still, and he forced himself up and out of the chair, although by this point all his energy had escaped. Without really thinking about anything, he surged forward, long angry stride eating up the ground between him and the door, an impassive, stony expression upon his face, although his eyes were swirling with a million different emotions, terror and anger leading the forefront. He yanked the door open without realizing he’d grasped the handle and eyes narrowed, reached out and curled a hand around Xzandr’s forearm, shooting her father a look that probably would have been more scary had the terror in his eyes not diluted the effect. Firmly, but still insanely cautiously, he yanked her through the doorway and slammed it shut behind him, standing to glare at her, hands on his hips. His expression faltered for a moment as he looked at her, but returned as he ran a hand through his ebony hair and stared at her, trying to will her to speak with the power of his gaze. Or mind, because that would have been cool too.

[anaxzandra corinne house]

» Xzandr had not felt the need to be rescued. She could very well save herself from being strangled by her father, and if she'd had time to protest Ryan's interference, she would have. She and House had never gotten this far in strangling each other before- usually, security intervened in the first couple seconds, with someone having called for them before the two were going at it- but this time, apparently, security was taking their sweet time. Xzandr didn't know if he would actually go through the entire process of murdering her, and didn't know if she would do it to him. Left on their own while strangling, they would probably be found in a dead heap within a couple hours. But as luck would have it, Xzandr was pulled away, and before she knew who had done it, she was in her office and the door slammed shut; House was left alone in the hall, looking stunned, his nose still bleeding pretty badly.

» She haded over to her desk and sat down in her chair, and though she'd seen Ryan briefly out of the corner of her eye and knew he was there, she didn't acknowledge him. Maybe if she ignored him, he'd go away? She doubted that would work. Sighing, she lightly rubbed her neck, which was starting to get sore. Being strangled twice within the space of a couple hours could really drain a person! On top of that, her headache was getting worse, and her leg was joining in. She leaned down and opened a drawer. As per the usual, it was unorganized- a genius of her caliber had no time for such rubbish, as she put it on the rare occasion that someone should come in and complain about her lack of sensible organization. She shuffled through it, muttering obscenities as she did so. For some reason, Xzandr just couldn't wrap her mind around the fact that she couldn't find anything in all that muck. Finally, after several tense seconds of searching, she found the medicine bottle she was looking for and opened it, quickly downing several pills of the potent Vicodin before replacing the cap and sticking it back in the drawer. Sure, it probably would be a good idea to stop taking drugs, considering the situation, but it wasn't like the safety of a kid she wasn't particularly excited about was the first thing on her mind. She yawned a little, and rotated her shoulders.

» Xzandr supposed Ryan probably wanted her to say something. Should she use this opportunity to piss him off- to say something incredibly ridiculous, or dumb, or play the whole situation off as something funny, a joke? Or should she just grow up and have an adult conversation? ...Was there some sort of middle ground? After considering her speech for a second, she sighed, and forced herself to speak-Ryan obviously wasn't going to. "You know, it's still really early, I can still..." She cut herself short and looked away, unable to finish her sentence. Would she really consider doing such a thing? As much as everyone considered her to be hell spawn, she had never actually killed anyone, on purpose. As much smack as she talked, tough as she acted, and even though she was a total demon, she wasn't even sure she could. Besides, if she had truly, truly been considering what she couldn't bring herself to actually say, wouldn't she have done it already?; that way, she wouldn't have had to tell Ryan, and they could just go on like nothing was wrong, and Ryan would never have known at all. Having to stop things wit Ryan- she doubted he'd even want to go on like they had been because of this- was what sucked, for Xzandr, the most. Well, that and having to deal with the entire process. Damn, this was going to suck.

[ry]

This situation, as he saw it, could only deteriorate, and that fact did nothing to comfort him. Ryan tried not to dwell on the fact that he’d been half-tempted to leave Xzandr locked in her strangle match with her father just to see her father get the upper hand, (while Xzandr could intimidate him, it was the elder House that scared him shitless). He’d even toyed with the idea of calling security ahead of time and telling them, he had the situation under control, just so the fight would go on longer. Then again, Ry never really had a huge tolerance for violence, especially when it played out right in front of him. Besides, he’d probably end up witnessing Xzandr’s murder and the last thing he wanted to do was be called to stand in front of the jury in front of House with the chance that the man might not get charged with the crime. He liked living, most of the time, thank you very much.

Mostly he concentrated on his breathing, attempting not to hyperventilate or stop all together, as he watched Xzandr wander over to her desk. His jaw was set, almost as if it’d been carved out of marble and his nostrils flared as he paced the carpet. Absently he chewed on the corner of his thumb, his gaze dark and close to murderous, although he hadn’t yet returned his gaze to Xzandr. The fact that Ry was generally against bloodshed as a rule did nothing to calm him down, and he had to keep reminding himself of the fact that, one she was a woman and society generally frowned upon men physically harming them, and two, she was carrying a child, something that if nothing else would deter him from venting his anger onto her. Ry finally stopped pacing when he almost ran into a cabinet and trying to hide his agitation, he turned to face her, attempting not to let his features soften as his olive eyes lit upon her frame. Features twisted as he watched her down the Vicodin. Lips pulled down into a frown, although his eyes were wide and face fully disbelieving. She, as a doctor after all, would know that drugs were the last thing one wanted to shove down their throats when carrying a child, especially so much of such a potent drug. He exhaled a snort of disbelief, as if his expression weren’t enough to go by and turned on his heel, resuming his violent stalking across the poor defenseless carpet.

He considered just leaving, obviously, she’d take care of the situation without any of his help if she continued with the Vicodin and he didn’t really think she was ready to give the drug up just yet. Then again, there was a chance her father was still skulking around and he might not think much of Ry for interrupting their fight. And he might need another target; Ry repressed a shudder at the thought. He stopped short at her words, and he looked sharply at her, his features pained as he swallowed heavily and looked away, choosing not to comment. As much as he wasn’t ready for a kid (he doesn’t think he’ll ever be), he would never dream of allowing Xzandr to do anything like that (how he can stop her, he doesn’t really know). If she had even entertained the idea, he didn’t believe she’d be down here telling him about it, but rather doing it. Temporarily halted, he stood, a cautious gaze fixed upon Xzandr. It was pretty much up to her what happened, because even though he shied violently away from the idea of a kid, he wouldn’t be one to desert, as his father did. That was the last thing he’d ever let happen. He felt as if he was required to say something, but the words wouldn’t appear in his mind and his tongue was lodged firmly against his teeth. His heart beat erratically in his chest, and the nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach wasn’t exactly comforting. By all means, it should be Xzandr going through this sort of panic, but Ry had reason enough he supposed.

“I…” he started, his tone thick, his expression agitated. “I don’t know what to say Xzandr.” he said, his brows furrowed, his tone more frustrated then angry at this point, although it wouldn’t take much to sway it in that direction.

[anaxzandra corinne house]

» Xzandr could see it on Ryan's face; clearly, he disapproved of her taking drugs. Hell, if she were anyone else looking at the same thing, she would read them the riot act: "Children are ugly enough without the malformations caused by drugs! You're a fucking idiot!" But she couldn't just stop like that. Maybe, once she calmed down a bit- probably not until it was too late, anyway- she would taper off the drugs, force herself to space out the pills, take a smaller dosage, eventually work down to maybe once a day, and then, eventually, nothing. On the outside, she was her usual self- stony, if a bit detached, as if she really didn't give a damn that there was something in her pelvis leeching off her nutrients and adding to her blood volume. But really, on the inside, tucked behind unexpressed anger toward Barbra Streisand and the hospital's Chief of Staff, was paralyzing fear. She was about as scared as a fourteen-year-old telling their parents what she'd just told Ryan. Of course, her living parental unit wouldn't be so much pissed as he would be elated to have something else to make fun of her for. She was scared of... just about the entire situation. There were things Ryan didn't know that she did- that could make the situation reflective of that of women in the earlier days, before medical advances. She wouldn't tell him- not because she cared about his mental health, but because she wasn't telling him shit if she didn't have to.

» She let out a frustrated sigh. She didn't care if he didn't know what to say. "Then leave, damn it!" She was so close to doing something she didn't want him to see that if he didn't promptly exit the room, he may find her name plate well within his frontal lobe- you know, that thing that separates people from apes. As much as it would amuse her to see him act like an ape, she didn't feel like cleaning up the poo he would fling around, or worse- going to jail because of his ass. "What do you want me to say? That this is something I've wanted my whole life, and I'm happy or some shit like that? I hate kids, if you haven't inferred that by now. They're ugly little fucks and they smell worse than old people." She sighed heavily, placing one elbow on her desk, and her palm on her forehead. How could she make him go away? She doubted it would take much more than telling- or, rather, demanding- him to do so, but that would be a temporary fix. She would prefer something a bit more... semi-permanent. The only thing that came to her head was telling him it wasn't his. He would probably end up calling her on that later, but right now, she could tell- his mind was fucked, and she was pretty sure it wouldn't take much to get him to believe it. "I never said it was yours, anyway." Then she promptly lowered her head, face in her palms, shoulders shaking.

[ry]

Xzandr’s drug habits were none of Ry’s business, strictly speaking. She could overdose ten times over and he still wouldn’t have any right to stick his nose where it didn’t belong. Still, the prospect of her carrying his child terrified him completely, and the memory of what his own mother was like when she had a little too many was anything but comforting in the situation. Not that he’d imply Xzandr would be anything like his mother, his jaw clenched at the thought, but all the same, he’d rest easier when she put the pill bottle away. He wasn’t clean himself, not strictly, so for all he knew she could throw the hypocrite card in his face and be fully justified, to a certain extent anyway. A selfish, remote part of his mind wished Xzandr had kept her mouth shut. A part of him really didn’t want to know, and he balked at the responsibility. The most he’d ever had to care for was a goldfish Julie had won him at the fair, which lived to a ripe old age of four weeks. Medical school wasn’t exactly conductive to keeping ones pets alive, he’d found out the hard way. But before that part of him could get too carried away, the wave of guilt tightened his chest and he could only hope the situation would clear up soon, or he’d risk a proper panic attack. He was pretty sure that would only get him a swift kick up the ass, or more likely a cane.

Olive gaze studied the wall distractedly, his thoughts tripping over one another. He flinched at her voice, his head-swinging round as he fixed her with a wide gaze that quickly narrowed and he swallowed thickly. He was stuck between looking absolutely pissed and terrified. Silently he took a step backward, his expression etched with indecision, his mind warring with the choice between stay and go. At the moment, ‘go’ was winning. His jaw clenched as she continued to speak and he barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes. With a silent sigh, he pulled his eyes from her, beginning to feel just a bit fed up, and more than a bit frustrated. As far as he was concerned, she’d just given him his cue to leave, and he was waiting to follow it. He wanted to get as far away as possible. All he needed was his briefcase and his files and he’d be set to head out for the weekend. Who knew, maybe when he’d gotten back Xzandr would decide that she wanted him placed under a restraining order (at this point, he was almost hoping he’d done something horrible to offend her so she’d do just that), if only to fix the ‘problem’ for a little while. King of denial, that’s who he was. Angry words pressed against his lips but slammed against his closed mouth as she spoke and he faltered visibly. “Oh,” he said, the word falling from his lips almost silently. He frowned, trying to take in this piece of information and his face twisted in shock, and maybe a little bit of relief. “Oh,” he repeated again, his voice almost strangled. He shot a look at her, but he couldn’t see her face. His panic ridden mind grabbed onto that statement and he stuttered an apology before turning on his heel and barreling out the door, almost tripping over his own feet. He beat a hasty retreat to his office. In no time, at all he’d retrieved his briefcase and practically broken every speed limit as he headed home. He needed a drink.