phinnia | i'm just zis girl you know? (for purplewaxhand)

purplewaxhand requested 'you (me) as House's clinic patient.' Okay. *shrug* I take all challenges seriously.

I own me and I'm part owner of the little autistic kid. Everything else, I'm just playing with.

House could hear the weird sounds from the outside of Exam Three; chirping, humming, something that sounded like blowing across a bottle top. He thought briefly about trying to make a break for it, but he could feel Brenda's eyes boring holes in the back of his neck, so he opened the door instead.

This room had two patients for the price of one. Oh goody. The woman was perched on the exam table, idly kicking it with heavy, weighted shoes, but seemed to be more focused on her phone than anything else. The chirping was coming from a small child, aged five or six, with blonde hair. The kid was creeping around the room, trailing one hand along every stationary object he could reach; the other hand was holding a small plastic tube, which he was flicking against his mouth. He didn't look up either.

Interesting.

"I'm Doctor House."

"Oh hi." She put the phone in a pocket and looked up at him through wire-rim glasses that had been knocked slightly askew. "Leah Meredith. Usual guy is out today I guess? No worries. I just need refills on everythi - SEANERS! NO! PUT THAT DOWN." She scowled at the child, who dropped what he'd been holding - the otoscope - and backed away with both palms held out flat as if to demonstrate his innocence.

"WE DO NOT STIM WITH MEDICAL EQUIPMENT. Not that you understand me, obviously." she continued, still glaring at the child. "But you understand my tone of voice, that's the important thing - anyway, yeah, I just need refills on everything. It's all in the chart."

House picked up the chart and skimmed it while keeping half an eye on the boy. "Autism?"

"Autistic, nonverbal and totally blind. Optic nerve aplasia - hereditary. Plus some auditory processing issues. It's interesting. We're basically the cripple family. Going anyplace is hilarious."

"You like the tylenol 3's?"

"Oxycodone makes me itchy. Vicodin gives me weird dreams and it doesn't taper off nicely. SEANERS! NO. CLOSE THE DOOR."

The child cheerfully continued around the room, pausing every few feet to jump or stim with the plastic tube, until he encountered House, who was sitting on the stool scribbling out one of several perscriptions. He chirped joyfully and tried to climb into House's lap, running his palms through House's stubble. "EeeeEEEeee!"

"SEANERS." She hopped down and limped awkwardly across the room towards a pair of blue forearm crutches that were leaning against the wall. "NO. WE DO NOT STIM WITH DR. HOUSE. Sorry about that. Come on, boy." She grabbed the sheaf of papers and the child's hand around the crutch handles, nodded once at House and smiled. "Thanks."

"Sure." he shrugged. "You ever need a sitter for the kid?"

"Oh hell yes. What, you're volunteering?"

"I have fellows. They like sucking up. We can arrange something."

She grinned. "I like the way you think."

i'm just zis girl you know? (for purplewaxhand)

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