As soon as she had cleaned up and pulled herself together, Cuddy went straight to the lab. She had saved one of the napkins with Megan’s blood on it in a baggie. She gave it to the night lab tech and told him to make sure and rush the results. She was almost one hundred percent sure that Megan was truly her and House's daughter, but it wouldn't hurt to have confirmation and proof.
When she was done there, she headed up to House’s floor to see how things were going.
As she got close to his office she could see him sitting on the edge of his desk. He was looking at films on the lighted board, with his cane propped behind his head and his arms resting on it. When she opened the door he turned his head and took the cane down. When he saw it was her, he lifted his cane and pounded the end on the films.
“Polyps.” he said.
“So she was right.” said Cuddy.
“Yeah.” said House.
“How is she?” asked Cuddy.
House just shrugged and said, “Got the lackeys on it.”
The door opened and Taulb and Kutner came in.
“Ears burning?” asked House.
“What?” asked Kutner.
“Nothing, where’s Thirteen?” asked House.
“She’s stitching up Megan’s hand.” said Kutner.
“How is she?” asked Cuddy.
“The bleeding has slowed and we packed her nose. Foreman is scheduling her for surgery in the morning.” said Taulb.
“Right, go on, get back to your boogie nights.” said House. (Little chapter 3 reference there!)
“Really?” asked Taulb.
"What?" asked Kutner, again.
“Just, go, get out of here.” said House.
After they left, House got off his escrivaninha, mesa and sat down in his chair.
“Are you going to go see her?” asked Cuddy.
“Why?” asked House.
“Well, she’s your friend for one.” said Cuddy.
“She’s not a friend, she’s just a girl I sometimes spend time with, at a club I hapen to frequently go to.” said House.
“Oh, well in that case.” said Cuddy sarcastically.
“If you’re so worried about her, why don’t you go and see her?” asked House.
“Fine, I will.” said Cuddy.
She turned to leave and walked a few steps before stopping at the door.
“Room 313.” said House, knowing what she was going to ask.
Cuddy left his office huffily, wondering how he could change his demeanor so quickly, and walked down the hall to room 313. She stood outside the door for a moment, taking a deep breath before going in. She opened the door and found Thirteen sitting on a tamborete, fezes seguinte to the bed, stitching up Megan’s hand.
“How’s it going?” asked Cuddy.
“Good, I’m just finishing up.” said Thirteen.
“I know, it’s so sad.” said Megan.
“I’ll finish up, you go back to the party.” said Cuddy, coming over.
“Are you sure, House isn’t going to make us look up every possible diagnosis?” asked Thirteen.
“No, Taulb and Kutner are already downstairs.” said Cuddy.
“Wow, ok, thanks.” said Thirteen.
She stood up and took off her vestido and gloves, throwing them in the waste.
As she was leaving Megan said, “Don’t be a stranger.”
Thirteen stopped and turned around as she held the door open.
“I’ll be back tomorrow.” she said, smiling a bit.
“Good, remind me to give you my number, since I already know yours.” said Megan, smiling at her.
Thirteen just smiled and left as Cuddy sat down on the tamborete, fezes and began to bandage Megan’s hand. That’s when she noticed Megan’s wrist and the tattoo there. It wasn’t just a tattoo, it was a cover, hiding a long vertical scar there.
“Sorry about your dress. I’m guessing it has lovely patterns of blood to accompany the black lace.” said Megan.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” said Cuddy.
“I’m just glad it didn’t happen while I playing the piano. Think of the mess someone would have to clean up. All that blood in the keys.” said Megan.
“Right, of course that would have been much worse than if you were alone and had bled out.” said Cuddy.
“Well yeah, if I had bled all over a piano and was alone, who would be there to clean it up?” asked Megan.
Cuddy couldn’t help but smile at how that was so much like something House would say.
“Is there anyone I can for you?” asked Cuddy.
“No, just me.” said Megan.
As Cuddy finished putting the bandage on, she ran her finger over the scar on Megan’s wrist.
“Seven years.” said Megan, looking at her. Cuddy looked up and met Megan’s icy blue eyes.
“What?” she asked.
“You want to know what happened and when. It was seven years atrás today actually.” said Megan.
“Why?” asked Cuddy.
“Because, like I said, my birthdays have a way of going bad. Don’t get me wrong, not every single one, but a lot of them.” said Megan.
“Worse than this?” asked Cuddy, moving the suture tray and tamborete, fezes aside and moving around to the chair.
“Yes.” said Megan. “Really? I wouldn’t think that things could get much worse than this on a birthday.” said Cuddy.
“They can, trust me.” said Megan.
“How much worse?” asked Cuddy.
She was hoping that Megan was just being an over dramatic twenty one ano old girl. Hoping she would say something like there had been an earthquake or a bad storm or something.
“People die, and it’s happened mais than once. The first time I was five, that’s when it all started. My first adoptive parents were taking me to my party at some kids place. A truck driver fell asleep and hit our car, my dad was decapitated and my mother’s femoral artery was severed, she bled out before anyone could get there. I had a mild concussion, and was put into foster care after that."
"The segundo time I was nine, and had been with a nice couple for almost a year. They were planning on adopting me, but the dia before my birthday the woman found out that she had terminal pancreatic cancer. Exactly one ano and one dia later she died and the man decided that I was too much of a reminder after a month. He sent me back to foster care where I stayed for another two years."
"I was getting older, so I was lucky when an older couple with older children took me in. Again, after almost a year, they had a birthday party for me. They told me that dia that they had begun the adoption process, that they wanted me to be part of their family. I was so happy, and told all of my friends at a sleepover party that one of them was having for me. That night, my new family’s início got broken into and they were all killed. The only one left alive was their oldest son who was at college."
"After that, people were afraid if I stayed too long something bad would happen to them. Not only that, but on my fourteenth birthday is when I was diagnosed with CVID. No one wanted to take me incase my ‘curse’ was real, I was older, and now I had an expensive medical condition. That’s the night I tried to kill myself, the night I realized that I wasn’t going to get a family. My foster father had gotten drunk and decided to beat up my foster mother. Then he figured that since it was my birthday I deserved a present. He gave me two broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and a black eye. Those were the worst ones so far, so this isn’t really that bad. Still, my sixteenth birthday wasn’t that bad, I was able to become emancipated.” said Megan.
Cuddy sat there with tears threatening to fall as she listened to her daughter tell her, matter-of-factly, this horrible story of what her life had been like.
All she could do was say, “I am so sorry.”, and wipe the tears from her eyes.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Nobody has anything to be sorry for, except the guy who murdered the Figs. Shit happens, you can’t control it, the only thing you can do is mover on. Some days are just going to be bad, so you might as well make the best of the ones that aren’t so bad and hope for better ones. That’s what life is you know, a mountain bike trail, ups and downs. Sometimes you just want to quit, or go back, but you can’t do either. No one’s going to pick you up and carry you either way, so you just have to keep going. And hopefully por the end you feel good about what you’ve accomplished. You might be sweaty, dirt covered, and bleeding, but you know you made it.” said Megan.
It was quiet for a minuto as Cuddy and Megan stared at each other.
“God, I must sound like a total rehab whack job!” Megan said, finally breaking the awkward silence between them.
“Yeah, well…” said Cuddy, stopping when what Megan had just said actually registered.
“Well, I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks I’m a nut. That would just be crazy, wouldn’t it?” Megan said, dryly.
“No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just…” said Cuddy.
“I know what you meant, I’m just trying to have a little fun.” said Megan, laughing a bit.
“Right, of course. Well it’s getting late, and I’m exhausted.” said Cuddy, standing up.
“You know, I’ve been feeling a little drowsy myself. I think it could be those wonderful pills that smokin’ doctor gave me.” said Megan, starting to slur.
“I’m sure, you just get some rest.” said Cuddy.
“Yeah, ok, bye, bye.” said Megan, waving a bit and laughing.
Cuddy pulled the covers up a bit on Megan and then left the room, heading for home.
When she was done there, she headed up to House’s floor to see how things were going.
As she got close to his office she could see him sitting on the edge of his desk. He was looking at films on the lighted board, with his cane propped behind his head and his arms resting on it. When she opened the door he turned his head and took the cane down. When he saw it was her, he lifted his cane and pounded the end on the films.
“Polyps.” he said.
“So she was right.” said Cuddy.
“Yeah.” said House.
“How is she?” asked Cuddy.
House just shrugged and said, “Got the lackeys on it.”
The door opened and Taulb and Kutner came in.
“Ears burning?” asked House.
“What?” asked Kutner.
“Nothing, where’s Thirteen?” asked House.
“She’s stitching up Megan’s hand.” said Kutner.
“How is she?” asked Cuddy.
“The bleeding has slowed and we packed her nose. Foreman is scheduling her for surgery in the morning.” said Taulb.
“Right, go on, get back to your boogie nights.” said House. (Little chapter 3 reference there!)
“Really?” asked Taulb.
"What?" asked Kutner, again.
“Just, go, get out of here.” said House.
After they left, House got off his escrivaninha, mesa and sat down in his chair.
“Are you going to go see her?” asked Cuddy.
“Why?” asked House.
“Well, she’s your friend for one.” said Cuddy.
“She’s not a friend, she’s just a girl I sometimes spend time with, at a club I hapen to frequently go to.” said House.
“Oh, well in that case.” said Cuddy sarcastically.
“If you’re so worried about her, why don’t you go and see her?” asked House.
“Fine, I will.” said Cuddy.
She turned to leave and walked a few steps before stopping at the door.
“Room 313.” said House, knowing what she was going to ask.
Cuddy left his office huffily, wondering how he could change his demeanor so quickly, and walked down the hall to room 313. She stood outside the door for a moment, taking a deep breath before going in. She opened the door and found Thirteen sitting on a tamborete, fezes seguinte to the bed, stitching up Megan’s hand.
“How’s it going?” asked Cuddy.
“Good, I’m just finishing up.” said Thirteen.
“I know, it’s so sad.” said Megan.
“I’ll finish up, you go back to the party.” said Cuddy, coming over.
“Are you sure, House isn’t going to make us look up every possible diagnosis?” asked Thirteen.
“No, Taulb and Kutner are already downstairs.” said Cuddy.
“Wow, ok, thanks.” said Thirteen.
She stood up and took off her vestido and gloves, throwing them in the waste.
As she was leaving Megan said, “Don’t be a stranger.”
Thirteen stopped and turned around as she held the door open.
“I’ll be back tomorrow.” she said, smiling a bit.
“Good, remind me to give you my number, since I already know yours.” said Megan, smiling at her.
Thirteen just smiled and left as Cuddy sat down on the tamborete, fezes and began to bandage Megan’s hand. That’s when she noticed Megan’s wrist and the tattoo there. It wasn’t just a tattoo, it was a cover, hiding a long vertical scar there.
“Sorry about your dress. I’m guessing it has lovely patterns of blood to accompany the black lace.” said Megan.
“It’s fine, don’t worry about it.” said Cuddy.
“I’m just glad it didn’t happen while I playing the piano. Think of the mess someone would have to clean up. All that blood in the keys.” said Megan.
“Right, of course that would have been much worse than if you were alone and had bled out.” said Cuddy.
“Well yeah, if I had bled all over a piano and was alone, who would be there to clean it up?” asked Megan.
Cuddy couldn’t help but smile at how that was so much like something House would say.
“Is there anyone I can for you?” asked Cuddy.
“No, just me.” said Megan.
As Cuddy finished putting the bandage on, she ran her finger over the scar on Megan’s wrist.
“Seven years.” said Megan, looking at her. Cuddy looked up and met Megan’s icy blue eyes.
“What?” she asked.
“You want to know what happened and when. It was seven years atrás today actually.” said Megan.
“Why?” asked Cuddy.
“Because, like I said, my birthdays have a way of going bad. Don’t get me wrong, not every single one, but a lot of them.” said Megan.
“Worse than this?” asked Cuddy, moving the suture tray and tamborete, fezes aside and moving around to the chair.
“Yes.” said Megan. “Really? I wouldn’t think that things could get much worse than this on a birthday.” said Cuddy.
“They can, trust me.” said Megan.
“How much worse?” asked Cuddy.
She was hoping that Megan was just being an over dramatic twenty one ano old girl. Hoping she would say something like there had been an earthquake or a bad storm or something.
“People die, and it’s happened mais than once. The first time I was five, that’s when it all started. My first adoptive parents were taking me to my party at some kids place. A truck driver fell asleep and hit our car, my dad was decapitated and my mother’s femoral artery was severed, she bled out before anyone could get there. I had a mild concussion, and was put into foster care after that."
"The segundo time I was nine, and had been with a nice couple for almost a year. They were planning on adopting me, but the dia before my birthday the woman found out that she had terminal pancreatic cancer. Exactly one ano and one dia later she died and the man decided that I was too much of a reminder after a month. He sent me back to foster care where I stayed for another two years."
"I was getting older, so I was lucky when an older couple with older children took me in. Again, after almost a year, they had a birthday party for me. They told me that dia that they had begun the adoption process, that they wanted me to be part of their family. I was so happy, and told all of my friends at a sleepover party that one of them was having for me. That night, my new family’s início got broken into and they were all killed. The only one left alive was their oldest son who was at college."
"After that, people were afraid if I stayed too long something bad would happen to them. Not only that, but on my fourteenth birthday is when I was diagnosed with CVID. No one wanted to take me incase my ‘curse’ was real, I was older, and now I had an expensive medical condition. That’s the night I tried to kill myself, the night I realized that I wasn’t going to get a family. My foster father had gotten drunk and decided to beat up my foster mother. Then he figured that since it was my birthday I deserved a present. He gave me two broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, and a black eye. Those were the worst ones so far, so this isn’t really that bad. Still, my sixteenth birthday wasn’t that bad, I was able to become emancipated.” said Megan.
Cuddy sat there with tears threatening to fall as she listened to her daughter tell her, matter-of-factly, this horrible story of what her life had been like.
All she could do was say, “I am so sorry.”, and wipe the tears from her eyes.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for. Nobody has anything to be sorry for, except the guy who murdered the Figs. Shit happens, you can’t control it, the only thing you can do is mover on. Some days are just going to be bad, so you might as well make the best of the ones that aren’t so bad and hope for better ones. That’s what life is you know, a mountain bike trail, ups and downs. Sometimes you just want to quit, or go back, but you can’t do either. No one’s going to pick you up and carry you either way, so you just have to keep going. And hopefully por the end you feel good about what you’ve accomplished. You might be sweaty, dirt covered, and bleeding, but you know you made it.” said Megan.
It was quiet for a minuto as Cuddy and Megan stared at each other.
“God, I must sound like a total rehab whack job!” Megan said, finally breaking the awkward silence between them.
“Yeah, well…” said Cuddy, stopping when what Megan had just said actually registered.
“Well, I’m glad I’m not the only one who thinks I’m a nut. That would just be crazy, wouldn’t it?” Megan said, dryly.
“No, that’s not what I meant. It’s just…” said Cuddy.
“I know what you meant, I’m just trying to have a little fun.” said Megan, laughing a bit.
“Right, of course. Well it’s getting late, and I’m exhausted.” said Cuddy, standing up.
“You know, I’ve been feeling a little drowsy myself. I think it could be those wonderful pills that smokin’ doctor gave me.” said Megan, starting to slur.
“I’m sure, you just get some rest.” said Cuddy.
“Yeah, ok, bye, bye.” said Megan, waving a bit and laughing.
Cuddy pulled the covers up a bit on Megan and then left the room, heading for home.