Verso

Chapter Twenty - When you have eliminated the impossible...

Chapter Twenty - When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.

The soft glow from the machine's display illuminated Arin's face in coloured light as she stood there watching them, the gentle hum of the refrigeration units within seemed almost melodic. Without any coins to use she opted instead to backpedal to the leather sofa and sit down. Looking around at the empty corridor the teenager contemplated that first meeting with House. She leaned back and closed her eyes.
"you know" House's voice said again in her mind  "...they stopped making that stuff in the mid nineties after they realised what the long term effects of radiation was on the Chernobyl babies."
Arin could see him sitting there speaking to her she looked at the imaginary can again in her head. Heard herself ask "Sunkist?"
"Yeah, That thing almost contains enough waste for it to eat through the can. Be warned not all mutations grant super powers. Take my advice, toss that one in the trash."
She opened her eyes, almost shocked not to find him sitting there. The memory had been so vivid. Looking around she tried to think of the best way to approach a search for something that she didn't know she was looking for. Maybe if she could pinpoint the differences between then and now that would help.

Ok. She thought what was the same now as had been then and what wasn't. She was dry for a start, difference. She left as lost and anxious then as she did now, similarly. She had soda then, difference. She looked down at the hospital gown. And at her sock clad feet. Clothing difference. The socks distracted her a moment, maybe should have put her converse back on.

Some ten minutes later and Arin still was no further forward. She lay on the sofa on her back now her hands clasped across her stomach and the IV tubes carefully arranged over the arm to where the stand was parked staring at a different set of ceiling tiles. Oh how she was beginning to loath the things.

"One of these things is not like the others..." she muttered almost mockingly out loud in a singsong voice. "...one of these things just doesn't belong. Can you tell which thing is not like the others..." she tilted her head back to look at the vending machines and felt her forehead furrow. Carefully she sat back up as the final line of the song died on her lips. The plant pots. The plant pots on either side of the vending machines had housed large orange blossoms when she had been here with House, she was sure of it. Now however they contained a green tree like thing.

Again she replayed the memory of sitting here with House through in her head. Straining for the exact details of the conversation. He had mentioned the plants she was sure he had...
"you know, they stopped making that stuff in the mid nineties after they realised what the long term effects of radiation was on the Chernobyl babies."
"Sorry" Arin said out loud as if she were speaking her line in a play of sorts. House in her head continued
"It's like those pots of botanical nightmares over there both relics of the USSR's nuclear programme."
Getting to her feet Arin padded across one of the pots and bent down to inspect it. The floor and wall  itself was clean but a dull orange smudge on the paint told her she was right. She ran a hand around the inside rim of the pot brushing aside the top layer of soil. A small amount of orange came away from the underside of the pot rim. She rubbed it across the four fingers of her hand with her thumb. Pollen.

The flowers had been replaced here, wilted maybe, but she was sure the same flowers were present in the ER corridors where her argument with Zen had happened. The argument that had escalated into the first breathing episode. She wasn't asthmatic, House's lung function test had proven that so she had reasoned that what the ER doctor had said was correct, given the stress and the situation it was a panic attack. She had a fever too, so that made sense...But what if it didn't, what if it HAD been an asthma attack.

Her heart rate sped up slightly as she considered, absently rubbing the dust off her hand.

That explained the first attack...not the fever so table that for now. What had been the second issue? The respiratory distress with House, in her room. Immediately she felt herself deflate. There were no orange flowers in her room. Theory burst.