@brightbrutality // [continued]
"well, we could." Angel replies, blue eyes alight with amusement, as if he doesn't realize it's a life that hangs in the balance here. But it isn't that, not really.
Angel knows full well it's a person that could very well die if action is not taken. He just doesn't really care about whoever it is. That was harsh, of course, but he wasn't a doctor, he was a nutritionist. He cared (a little) about his clients, but the everyday person was of no concern to him-- despite what his donations to this hospital may have others believing.
It was simple. Angel did not involve himself closely with others. He did not form attachments. Some may say he lacked empathy, but the opposite was true. The man had too much of it. Keeping people at a distance was imperative to him, if only as an act of self preservation. How miserable would life be if he was constantly bogged down by the thoughts and emotions of the people around him? He didn't care to know!
Still, House wanted answers. Always did, in Angel's experience with him. Oh, he could still remember when he'd been in this man's care. What a fun little time that had been. Yellow fever, of all things, presenting in the most peculiar of manners. That was, of course, Dr. House's specialty, though. Peculiar things. Angel had been to the point where he really shouldn't have recovered. And yet, he had.
"you do know many have called my own recovery miraculous." He says, smiling widely. "just because your newest patient isn't favored by the divine does not mean the divine do not exist."
