The Waiting Room.
The Waiting Room.
A/N: After a bout of trying to learn, I'm taking some time to update this a little. I still don't own anything related to this, beyond the storyline. Still a student, still nothing to sue for. I got some advice on the medicine seen here, but any mistakes are still mine.
Dawn was sitting in the waiting room for Surgery Two. After some quick work involving large needles in the ER, Xander had been taken here a bit over half an hour ago. Dawn knew from TV shows she had seen that it would take a while, so she had taken out the latest scroll she was translating. Of course, she was also distracted, and thought she had the translation wrong. If she was right [which seemed unlikely], it said that the building would not fix the all color fighter. Which made no sense. At all.
"Who are you?"
Dawn jumped at the question, as the door slammed against the wall. "What?"
"Who are you? I had this Surgery scheduled for my afternoon nap, but they bumped me for that guy in there. That takes connections. So, who are you?" The cane-bearing man almost growled the question out.
"You booked a surgery for an afternoon nap?"
"Of course. They take time, and if it's not interesting, no one will look in to see it isn't happening."
"Um, who are you?"
"I'm House. And, that's my question. Who are you, and who's the guy in there?"
"I'm Dawn Summers, and that's my, um, friend, Xander. He was, uh, we were mugged, an-"
"You're lying. Well, everyone lies, but you're lying about that."
"About what? Getting mugged? No, we were mugged, and he hit-"
"Not that. You're lying about him being your friend. He's more than that. Or at least, you want him to be more than that."
Dawn stared at the man. "Yes, fine. I want him to be more than that. But that ship has sailed. He doesn't see me that way."
"So, make him."
"Make him see you that way. Find a sexy little nightie, or even just some ribbons, and sneak into his room on his birthday."
"God, what business is it of yours?"
"Oh, it's not. But I'm noisy."
"Well, yes. Of course. Life's more fun that way."
". . . I knew someone you would have loved. Sadly, she's dead now. And she was Xander's fiancee."
"Oh. Ouch. How long ago?"
"A bit over 4 years ago now."
"Long enough. So, I know where you can find some good quality ribbon . . . "
Dawn stared at him for a moment. ". . . fine." She took the paper he had scribbled the address on, and stuffed it in her purse.
"So, who are you that you can get me bumped?"
"Emergency case. Like I said, we were mugged, and Xander tried to fight. He got a few good licks in, then his right shoulder got dislocated. Right after that, the guy hit him in the ribs. I think he had something on his hands - brass knuckles or something. I was able to get rid of the guy, but Xander was pretty badly hurt. Then, he twisted his ankle on the way here. When we were let into a room, something happened inside him - he started bleeding badly and his throat twisted to the side. The doctors stuck a needle into his side, then wheeled him here. And now, I'm waiting."
"He had a tension pnuemo-thorax, that's why they stuck the needle in him; it releases the pressure, and lets the lung deflate, then re-inflate. And it sounds like a broken rib might have cut an intercostal artery, which first bled into the lung cavity, then out the side when he moved and cut an opening to the outside." House's voice had gone from disgruntled to concise and slightly clipped.
". . . okay. How long till it's fixed?"
"Assuming you get a competent surgeon - good luck in this hospital - it'll take about an hour or so. Maybe two."
"Well, I'll just have to go watch my soaps with coma-guy."
"Nothing, nothing." The man, House, turned and left.
Dawn stared at the door for a few moments. Then, she looked down at the papers in her hands, he eyes tearing up. If this guy was right, and he sounded like he knew what he was talking about, Xander was going to be fine.
It was only another 20 minutes before the doctor came out. He had some blood spatter, but nothing extreme. He was, she couldn't help but notice, very handsome, almost too much so.
"I'm Dr. Chase. Mr. Harris is fine; he had a tension pnuemo-thorax . . . "
A/n: Well, that wasn't where I expected this chapter to go, but House just wouldn't stay in the wings for another chapter.