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Drabble Meme
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queenzulu, where I dithered too long, and deelaundry!
The first TEN people to comment in this post get to request that I write a drabble* of any pairing/character of their choosing. In return, they have to post this in their journal, regardless of their ability level.
1.queenzulu - Foreman, failing
2.hannahrorlove - House/Stacy, home cooking
3.seschat - The Doctor/House or brilliant!Wilson
4.deelaundry - House and Wilson, a warm embrace
5.kirili - House, music or LLB
*(defined in this case as anything that fits in single comment) I'm best with characters from House, but if I've seen it, I'll attempt it (it just might take longer).
On another note - I've been traipsing about Faunasphere, and one of the developers is definitely a House fan. One of the tasks is called "The Volakis Foundation" and requires you to find 10 pieces of Amber and take it to the Differential stump in aid of a cure for something that played off amantadine poisoning :) Needless to say, I'm desperate to finish that one!
queenzulu, where I dithered too long, and deelaundry!The first TEN people to comment in this post get to request that I write a drabble* of any pairing/character of their choosing. In return, they have to post this in their journal, regardless of their ability level.
1.
queenzulu - Foreman, failing2.
hannahrorlove - House/Stacy, home cooking3.
seschat - The Doctor/House or brilliant!Wilson4.
deelaundry - House and Wilson, a warm embrace5.
kirili - House, music or LLB*(defined in this case as anything that fits in single comment) I'm best with characters from House, but if I've seen it, I'll attempt it (it just might take longer).
On another note - I've been traipsing about Faunasphere, and one of the developers is definitely a House fan. One of the tasks is called "The Volakis Foundation" and requires you to find 10 pieces of Amber and take it to the Differential stump in aid of a cure for something that played off amantadine poisoning :) Needless to say, I'm desperate to finish that one!
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If Foreman doesn't grab you, then Taub, prompt: children.
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Double-drabble and a half:
When Eric sees the number at the top of the test, his first thought is that there's been a mistake. Seventy-eight per cent. It's not even a B. He's never gotten less than a B, not even in freshman gym, before his last growth spurt took care of that extra weight. But the only mistakes on the paper are his.
For a moment, he can't breathe. Seventy-eight per cent doesn't get you a full ride to a good college, and schools aren't giving out scholarships for second string point guards. He may as well have failed the test.
He can almost see his future fade away before him. He imagines four more years in his parents' house; four more years of old friends and new temptations. He'll end up like all the other guys in the neighbourhood who weren't smart enough or fast enough to find a way out.
He knows what will happen when his parents find out. His father will tell him to pray for guidance, while his mother will hug him and say that he'll do better next time. But Eric knows that faith isn't enough to get him an A in Calculus. This one's on him.
It's just one test, he tells himself. He has the rest of the year to fix it. He can study harder, work for extra credit, and pull up his average. He won't make the same mistake again.
One of these days he'll run out of second chances. But not yet.
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I used that conversation with Lupe as a touchstone - it was a good reminder of how much Foreman would have had at stake.
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The first time Stacy tells Greg she loves him, he rolls his eyes. "The sky is blue," he replies, and she automatically looks out the window. The sky is overcast and grey, with a hint of storm clouds in the distance. She wonders if this is another of his obscure metaphors, but then she understands: words without context are meaningless.
It takes longer to find a context he might understand. Stacy is in the business of using words to define and shape reality. She's less comfortable with actions, particularly the unconventional -- and occasionally illegal -- ways in which Greg expresses affection.
The answer comes to her almost by accident. They're visiting his parents, which is a revelation in itself. John House says everything he means, and means everything he says, but there are layers to his words that not even an archaeologist could excavate. Stacy is prepared to fake a work emergency to cut the visit short, but on the third day she wakes just before dawn to find Greg gone.
She's used to his periodic bouts of insomnia, so she gets up to see if he wants company. She can hear quiet voices coming from the kitchen and hesitates at the door, staying out of sight. Greg is sitting at the kitchen table, watching his mother dice potatoes. He's not smiling, but he's the most at peace she's seen him since they arrived. She remembers evenings in her mother's kitchen, finishing her homework while her mother cooked, the room warm and bright and full of love. She blinks away tears and touches the cross her mother gave her.
Somewhere, she has her mother's recipes, passed down through generations. She can't give Greg the kind of home her mother made for her family, but maybe she can give him a taste.
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Do you know Doctor Who? Because I know that you've written Torchwood, but that doesn't actually have to mean anything, even if Torchwood basically only exists because of Doctor Who, but anyway.
But if you do know it (and, of course, were willing to write it) - can you imagine the undiluted awesomeness that would ensue if House and the Doctor ever were to meet? *gleams* :DDDD
... if you don't know Doctor Who, though, I'd love you to drabble some brilliant!Wilson. Not that, you know, he's not always brilliant, but I'd love him to have a little epiphany and his moment of glory! ;)
Anyway, I do realize that both my prompts are more complex and that it might not work as a drabble, so if you don't want to write it, that's perfectly fine, too!
(I'd just, you know, love it. Because your House and Wilson really are the best and I've been fangirling you for a long time now and I'm pretty certain that I forever will continue to do so, and just: ♥) *ramble ramble*
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Doctor Who is so worth watching, it's not even funny anymore. :D
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House liked to proclaim that the danger of specialization was myopia. Immunologists saw lupus on every corner; neurologists thought everything was about the brain, urologists went straight for the waterworks. When he was younger, Wilson jumped automatically to the cancer conclusion. But after years of working with House, he'd looked for stripes, as well as cancer markers. More often than not, the outcome was better. A rare, but treatable, disease was preferable to a death sentence any day. Not that cancer was always a death sentence, but as the head of oncology, Wilson ended up with a high proportion of terminal cases.
"Are you going to help or are you just going to stand there looking pretty?" House asked when Wilson dropped by Diagnostics to see if House was hungry. "This one looks like one of yours."
Wilson scanned the whiteboard for symptoms. Hydrothorax, ascites, elevated CA-125. All signs of advanced ovarian cancer. Wilson scanned the blood and urine reports. "CA-125 isn't that high. Could be a benign fibroma -- Meigs syndrome."
"No signs of any solid masses," Foreman replied, "but the ovaries are enlarged. We should do an exploratory laparoscopy."
"Urine tests show proteinuria and hematuria," Chase countered. "Could be renal cell carcinoma."
"No masses in the kidneys either. It's multiple myeloma leading to renal failure," House replied, starting to wipe the symptoms off the board. "Explains the fever and joint pain as well."
But Wilson wasn't ready to give up looking for stripes. "The levels of M-protein are too low." Something still bothered him about elevated CA-125. Not Meigs syndrome or pseudo-Meigs syndrome. It clicked, and he couldn't prevent a bubble of laughter. "Pseudo-psuedo-Meigs," he said. "Tjalma syndrome. It's a rare condition in SLE patients." He shook his head and laughed again. "This time it really is lupus."
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Don't pretend you don't want that, House. ;)
... aw, haha, it's brilliant! :D Thank you so much! *glomps you*
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House and Wilson, a warm embrace
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House hesitated in front of the door, wondering if he'd come to the right place. Nolan hadn't wanted him to be on his own, surrounded by Vicodin caches and other temptations, but sleeping in the apartment of the dead woman he'd hallucinated hardly seemed healthier. Amber was gone, though, for better and for worse. He knocked before he could change his mind.
The door opened almost immediately and House wondered if Wilson had been standing there, waiting for him to make a decision.
"Hey," Wilson said. "You made it."
Wilson had always had a gift for stating the obvious, but this time House knew his words had a deeper meaning. "Thanks for letting me stay here," he said.
Wilson just shrugged, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards in a tentative smile. "I could have picked you up."
"I needed to make it back on my own," House replied. He stared at Wilson, willing him to understand. Nolan had told him to open up, but he'd never needed words to do that with Wilson.
The little smile didn't get any stronger, but Wilson nodded and stepped aside, gesturing for House to come in. He'd always been a quick study. "I've got some chili on the stove if you're hungry," Wilson offered, as if he hadn't spent the morning searching for the perfect degree of heat.
"I'm starving," House said, his mouth watering in anticipation. He'd missed Wilson's healthier way of coping with stress. "Asylym food sucks."
This time, the smile spread and illuminated Wilson's entire face. "Welcome home, House," he said, stepping forward and pulling House into an awkward embrace. "I missed you."
It was a blatant violation of every boundary they'd established over years of friendship, but House had learned that when you reached out, sometimes you had to touch. House dropped his bag and pulled Wilson closer until they fit together like the final pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. He closed his eyes and breathed the spice-scented air. It had been a long time, but he remembered now what home smelled like. He'd come to the right place.
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Just in case: House, music. Or House, LLB.
Enjoying the other drabbles :)
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The day after Wilson donated part of his liver to the self-absorbed jerk, House drove to Middletown to visit Wilson's brother. He'd gone to see Danny a few times before his own mental health started to unravel, if only to keep an eye on the nurse Wilson had been dating, but not since he'd returned from Mayfield. He'd offered once, but Wilson had refused with such vehemence that House was startled. "Afraid if I go inside I won't come out?" he'd asked, but Wilson hadn't laughed.
Danny hadn't changed since the last time House had seen him. The meds were only keeping him in a holding pattern, but Wilson was still optimistic. He stared at House suspiciously, his gaze darting around the room.
"Wilson isn't going to be able to visit for a couple of weeks," House said.
"Why?"
House stopped himself from saying the first thing that came to mind. Because he made a mistake and giving up part of himself was the only way he could atone. Instead, he gave the agreed-upon lie. "Gallstones attack. Emergency surgery. He's okay, but he needs some time to recover before he can travel." Presumably Wilson thought one scar would like another to Danny.
"I can go to him," Danny said. "I can take care of him." There was a bump in the flat affect as he focused clearly on House. Maybe the meds were doing some good.
Wilson, House knew, would have encouraged him, but Wilson lacked the ability to see just how bad even the best intentions could become. It wasn't a lack of imagination, House thought, so much as an excess of optimism. "I know you can," he lied. "But Wilson wants you to take care of yourself first." That at least was true. In Wilson's twisted world, virtual strangers needed to be taken care of first. "He'd just worry about you."
"Jimmy always worried about everybody except himself," Danny said. "He never knew how to protect himself against them. Against us."
He was paranoid, House mused, but he wasn't wrong. Maybe Danny could be an ally, not an opponent.
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(Anonymous) 2010-02-20 05:05 am (UTC)(link)And! There are so many insights and ideas in such a short amount of writing. Your writing has always been insightful and amazing and you just keep on getting better and I'm continually impressed and so happy to read it.
I like the balance in House's thinking between creativity and reality (not quite cynical, but far from optimistic). And. Yes, it's hopeful somehow, but damaged all over. Thanks for writing.
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Will put the meme up on my journal (forgot that part, sorry!).
"holding pattern"
I love your turns of phrase :)
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