New Fic: 100 Seasons: Foreman
Jun. 11th, 2007 09:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
namasteTitle: 100 Seasons: Foreman
Author: Namaste
Summary: The third season, according to Foreman.
A third set of drabbles, from each character’s point of view, with other characters to come. You can find House’s split into two parts: So It Goes and Big Brains and the rest collected under the title 100 Seasons beginning with 100 Seasons: Cuddy
Spoilers: All of the third season.
Sample:
Foreman wonders if that’s what he’ll become before he walks away, or if he can hang onto the man he was before he slipped into House’s orbit. He’s not sure which person -- which doctor -- he wants to be, or which he should be.
Author’s Note: I suppose I should give the disclaimer here that views expressed by the character Foreman are not necessarily those of the author. Let’s just say that in writing from his perspective, it became clear that Foreman made more mistakes than misdiagnosing Lupe this season.
-----------
Meaning
Foreman watches the slight movement of his patient’s toes. For a moment, he has a fleeting memory of his father reading the scripture in front of church one day.
“Rise up and walk,” he thinks to himself, but hears his father’s firm, low baritone rather than his own, softer voice.
He smiles and opens his mouth to give her encouragement, but stops when he finds himself struggling to remember her name. “Yoga girl,” he thinks. This time he hears House’s voice in his head. He shakes his head slightly, and reminds himself that he’s neither man. He’s his own man.
---
Cane & Able
House says nothing about the limp that’s returned. He refuses to acknowledge what they all see, so Foreman won’t talk about it either. House is an idiot, who finds fault in everyone but himself, he thinks. He doesn’t wish the pain on anyone, but sometimes finds it hard to spare any sympathy for the man, for any reason.
House has been taking his foul mood out on Chase, so Foreman keeps quiet, and lets him shoulder the brunt of it. He’s surprised Cameron hasn’t pressed any unwanted pity on House, but Foreman can’t worry about that now, so he doesn’t.
---
Informed Consent
How can a healthy man understand what it means to die? To know what it’s like to fight for just one breath, then the next and somehow know that you’re winning a battle no one else can measure?
How can a sick woman know every nuance of a doctor’s language? To translate his code when he says that they’ll make you comfortable, and interpret that it means that there’s no hope?
Almost no one knows what it’s like to live with death, and almost no one understands the medicine. Foreman knows enough about both to know he doesn’t know enough.
---
Lines In The Sand
Foreman can remember a time when he used to care aboout why House did things. A time when he thought that he could actually make sense out of the chaos House caused. Now he just sighs and goes along with whatever House wants. It’s easier that way.
He waits for Adam to finish his game. At least Adam has a reason for his obstinance. House is just an ass, who sees people as nothing more than puzzles or toys he tosses away once he’s bored with him.
For a moment, Foreman wonders what will happen when House tires of him.
---
Fools For Love
Foreman has O Positive blood, the same type as both his patients -- husband and wife, brother and sister. He thinks he could point that out to her, tell her about how blood means nothing.
He has a brother only thirty miles away, a brother he never sees, a brother he never talks about. They come from the same genetic soup, but that means nothing.
Family isn’t about blood and muscle and bone. Sometimes family is only something to break away from, something to leave behind. And sometimes the family you choose is stronger than the one you’re given at birth.
---
Que Sera Sera
Chase’s seat is empty and Foreman waits for House to track Chase down, to yell at him, humiliate him for playing hooky. Instead he only shrugs and goes back to his puzzle.
Foreman swallows his anger and does his job -- and Chase’s job. He runs samples and tries not to think about how Chase uses charm, a smile and minimal effort. Foreman knows Chase isn’t as bad as others, but he’s still the golden boy, like so many others of the privileged elite he’s encountered before.
Chase doesn’t appreciate how good he has it, Foreman thinks, and starts another test.
---
Son Of A Coma Guy
Foreman has seen too many people like House before. He’s never pretended to like him. He’s felt sorry for him sometimes, even respects his ability. But the man is an ass who uses people like he uses pills.
He’s seen people like Tritter too, hiding their insecurities behind a badge -- the class bully rewarded with power and position.
Tritter thinks the world would be better without people like House, and he tries to make Foreman pick a side, to turn against House, but Foreman has already picked. He may not like House, but he hates guys like Tritter even more.
---
Whac-A-Mole
House is wrong. The kid will do the right thing, Foreman thinks. Jack’s just tired, sick, and in pain. In a week from now -- a month maybe -- once he’s had some rest, he’ll step up, tell them he’s ready.
Foreman ignores the thought in his head that Jack isn’t that strong, that no one is. Instead, he tells himself that Jack will be the one to bring his family back together.
If this kid can’t do it, then maybe no one can. Maybe no one’s family has a chance. Not even his, and Foreman doesn’t want to believe that’s true.
---
Finding Judas
In eighth grade, Eric stood up to the school bully. He bloodied the kid’s nose before one of the teachers broke up the fight. Eric came home with a note for his parents and his left eye swollen shut.
That night he’d stared at the bruised flesh in the mirror and smiled. He wasn’t just another fat kid any more. He felt older. Experienced. Different.
When Foreman sees Chase’s jaw it’s already swollen and discolored. Chase shoves some papers into his bag. He’s angry, but for a moment Foreman thinks there’s something else there, some emotion he can’t quite define.
---
Merry Little Christmas
Wilson and Cuddy are huddled just outside House’s office, trying to convince themselves that they can still make this stupid plan work. But Foreman’s seen House. He’s seen the bright eyes, the twitchy movements, heard the run-on speech patterns that are over the top even by House’s standards.
He’s on something. Probably not Vicodin, Foreman thinks, but they shouldn’t be surprised that he got his hands on something.
An addict is an addict, no matter how smart they are or how much money they make. Foreman shakes his head, and wonders how long it’ll be until they all learn that.
---
Words & Deeds
“Uncle Eddie’s been ... sick,” Mama told Eric when he saw his uncle. The man was thin and shaking and sat in a corner of the living room, looking like it took all of his energy just to breathe. Eric was scared to get too close to him.
Mama wouldn’t say what was wrong with her brother, but smiled when she said he was getting better now. “He’s going to be just fine.”
When Cameron says they should go find House, get his ideas on the case, Foreman shakes his head. “House has more important things to deal with,” he says.
---
One Day, One Room
Normal is waking up in his bed, just before the alarm goes off.
Normal is black coffee and a bowl of cereal.
Normal is pulling into his parking spot, and seeing the guard nod at him when he walks by.
Normal is taking his lab coat out of his locker, and putting it on.
Normal is walking past the ICU room where he was a patient only a year ago.
Normal is being the one standing over the bed, not lying in it.
Normal is good, Foreman tells House. Tell the girl that everything can be normal again. In time.
---
Needle In A Haystack
“I got a chance to scrub in on a surgery,” Wendy’s voice tells Foreman on the answering machine. “Sorry to cancel at the last minute. Hope you don’t mind.”
Foreman erases her message and starts making dinner. With the night on his own, he can finally catch up on his reading, he thinks.
He likes Wendy, even cares for her, but Foreman tells himself that he’s not like Stevie. He doesn’t need to be surrounded by people. Foreman’s always known he could do great things, and he isn’t about to let anyone hold him back, even people he cares about.
---
Insensitive
Wendy’s wrong. He’s nothing like House. He just wanted to help her. She doesn’t understand he’ll miss her, but for some reason he can’t bring himself to apologize, to ask her to stay, to ask her to forgive him.
If what he has with Wendy couldn’t survive a few years of grad school, it wasn’t meant to be. It’s better to know the truth about that now, rather than drag it out, and see them both suffer.
That’s how he’s different from House, he thinks. House would only bask in misery, and probably enjoying dragging someone else down with him.
---
Half-Wit
Foreman crumples his tie into a ball and throws it across the room. It flutters briefly, then lands softly on the floor. His eyes are scratchy and red, and scream for him to close them for at least an hour or two, rest.
He’s too wired. Too angry. Too pissed off to even sit still. He mumbles House’s name and wishes he had something he could hit.
He changes into a track suit and heads for the gym. Maybe if he can work off his aggression on some weights, he won’t actually hit House the next time he sees him.
---
Top Secret
So this is what he’s come to -- all those years of school, of residency and fellowships, and here he is checking some poor guy’s credit records.
The first time Foreman wanted to quit was when Marty reminded him of how much easier it had been starting a conversation without worrying about setting off some verbal land mine.
When he got sick, he was almost relieved by the thought he’d have to step away from treating patients. It was the perfect excuse.
Problem is, as much as Foreman wants to leave, he knows he can’t. He has too much to learn.
---
Fetal Position
Foreman watches Cuddy, sees the crazed look when she says she wants to drown Emma and her baby in corticosteroids. It’s a look he’s seen too often. House is an infection, making everyone believe that insanity is a normal option.
He watches the surgery from above, sees Cuddy face House down, her insanity topping his for once.
Foreman wonders if that’s what he’ll become before he walks away, or if he can hang onto the man he was before he slipped into House’s orbit. He’s not sure which person -- which doctor -- he wants to be, or which he should be.
---
Airborne
Cameron shakes her head and says Chase left without an explanation.
“He got this look on his face,” she tells Foreman. “You know the one.”
She doesn’t say it’s the same expression House has when he gets some off-the-wall idea, something that always seems to pay off. Foreman sees it and knows he’s made some jump in the thought process, something that leaves them all behind.
Foreman thinks if he studies those moments, he can do what House does, can finally understand it, measure it, quantify it, learn it. What House does isn’t magic, he tells himself. It can’t be.
---
Act Your Age
Foreman rolls his eyes at the sound of Chase and Cameron sniping at each other. Again. He’s beginning to think it was better when they were sleeping together. This, he thinks, is why he doesn’t date coworkers.
Sure he’s dated nurses, doctors, pharmacy reps, pharmacists. He even took up a heavy flirtation with the wavering trophy wife of one of his professors back in Baltimore. But there’s always fallout when work and pleasure mix too much.
He starts another test and reminds himself to leave his personal life -- his history -- at the door when he walks into the conference room.
---
House Training
It’s dark. Foreman didn’t notice the sunset, but now it’s gone gray inside his living room, punctuated by narrow shafts of light coming through the blinds from the street lights, and darker gray in the shadows.
He’s been sitting there, on the couch, since he got home. Since Lupe died. Since he left Mom. Since Dad claimed everything would be fine.
Foreman isn’t so sure. He isn’t sure of anything anymore. Everything he’d thought he could count on -- his skills as a doctor, his family, himself -- everything is gone now.
All he has left is the dark, and the shadows.
---
Family
It was so easy to block it all out -- the sound of Matty’s screams, the way his body trembled beneath his hands, the muscle quivering at his touch. All he could think of was how to save someone who was already lost, holding the boy still, clamping the restraints down tighter before he picked up the needle again, plunging it deep into the wriggling body, past skin and muscle and the “pop” as he punctured bone.
Foreman had even smiled when he saw he’d collected enough marrow. He’d been happy. Pleased with himself. Satisfied.
That’s what scares him the most.
---
Resignation
It’s easier to tell himself he won’t miss anyone. He won’t miss his apartment, or his crappy parking space, or the locker door that sticks. Foreman noticed scratches on the lock one day. He could never prove it was House who tried to pick it, but no one else would want to get inside.
Foreman has a fleeting thought that he should give House a lock pick as a farewell present. He smiles at the idea, then stops and shakes his head. He puts his C.V. in the envelope, seals it and puts it in the mail for New York.
---
The Jerk
“I’m sorry, Dr. Foreman, but I wasn’t expecting you.” Dr. Myers holds out his hand to shake Foreman’s. “I was told you canceled, that you weren’t interested in the job after all.”
“No,” Foreman says, “no, I ...” He can picture House, a stupid smile on his face, thinking he’s playing a game, and Foreman’s just a pawn on the board. Foreman takes a breath, tries to control his anger. He still needs to make the right impression.
“There must have been some misunderstanding,” Foreman says, and even manages a smile. “Perhaps we can reschedule, if you still have an opening.”
---
Human Error
“I need you,” House says, but before the words have even settled in the air, he’s calling Foreman a selfish bastard.
Foreman turns and walks out without another word. He’s said his goodbyes. He’s given House the only explanation he could.
A year from now, maybe two, he’ll hear some story about House from some other doctor, maybe see another paper in another journal on some breakthrough. Hell, the way House is going, it could just as well be his obituary.
“Yeah, I knew House,” he’ll say then. “The man was a genius, but you wouldn’t want to be him.”
Author: Namaste
Summary: The third season, according to Foreman.
A third set of drabbles, from each character’s point of view, with other characters to come. You can find House’s split into two parts: So It Goes and Big Brains and the rest collected under the title 100 Seasons beginning with 100 Seasons: Cuddy
Spoilers: All of the third season.
Sample:
Foreman wonders if that’s what he’ll become before he walks away, or if he can hang onto the man he was before he slipped into House’s orbit. He’s not sure which person -- which doctor -- he wants to be, or which he should be.
Author’s Note: I suppose I should give the disclaimer here that views expressed by the character Foreman are not necessarily those of the author. Let’s just say that in writing from his perspective, it became clear that Foreman made more mistakes than misdiagnosing Lupe this season.
-----------
Meaning
Foreman watches the slight movement of his patient’s toes. For a moment, he has a fleeting memory of his father reading the scripture in front of church one day.
“Rise up and walk,” he thinks to himself, but hears his father’s firm, low baritone rather than his own, softer voice.
He smiles and opens his mouth to give her encouragement, but stops when he finds himself struggling to remember her name. “Yoga girl,” he thinks. This time he hears House’s voice in his head. He shakes his head slightly, and reminds himself that he’s neither man. He’s his own man.
---
Cane & Able
House says nothing about the limp that’s returned. He refuses to acknowledge what they all see, so Foreman won’t talk about it either. House is an idiot, who finds fault in everyone but himself, he thinks. He doesn’t wish the pain on anyone, but sometimes finds it hard to spare any sympathy for the man, for any reason.
House has been taking his foul mood out on Chase, so Foreman keeps quiet, and lets him shoulder the brunt of it. He’s surprised Cameron hasn’t pressed any unwanted pity on House, but Foreman can’t worry about that now, so he doesn’t.
---
Informed Consent
How can a healthy man understand what it means to die? To know what it’s like to fight for just one breath, then the next and somehow know that you’re winning a battle no one else can measure?
How can a sick woman know every nuance of a doctor’s language? To translate his code when he says that they’ll make you comfortable, and interpret that it means that there’s no hope?
Almost no one knows what it’s like to live with death, and almost no one understands the medicine. Foreman knows enough about both to know he doesn’t know enough.
---
Lines In The Sand
Foreman can remember a time when he used to care aboout why House did things. A time when he thought that he could actually make sense out of the chaos House caused. Now he just sighs and goes along with whatever House wants. It’s easier that way.
He waits for Adam to finish his game. At least Adam has a reason for his obstinance. House is just an ass, who sees people as nothing more than puzzles or toys he tosses away once he’s bored with him.
For a moment, Foreman wonders what will happen when House tires of him.
---
Fools For Love
Foreman has O Positive blood, the same type as both his patients -- husband and wife, brother and sister. He thinks he could point that out to her, tell her about how blood means nothing.
He has a brother only thirty miles away, a brother he never sees, a brother he never talks about. They come from the same genetic soup, but that means nothing.
Family isn’t about blood and muscle and bone. Sometimes family is only something to break away from, something to leave behind. And sometimes the family you choose is stronger than the one you’re given at birth.
---
Que Sera Sera
Chase’s seat is empty and Foreman waits for House to track Chase down, to yell at him, humiliate him for playing hooky. Instead he only shrugs and goes back to his puzzle.
Foreman swallows his anger and does his job -- and Chase’s job. He runs samples and tries not to think about how Chase uses charm, a smile and minimal effort. Foreman knows Chase isn’t as bad as others, but he’s still the golden boy, like so many others of the privileged elite he’s encountered before.
Chase doesn’t appreciate how good he has it, Foreman thinks, and starts another test.
---
Son Of A Coma Guy
Foreman has seen too many people like House before. He’s never pretended to like him. He’s felt sorry for him sometimes, even respects his ability. But the man is an ass who uses people like he uses pills.
He’s seen people like Tritter too, hiding their insecurities behind a badge -- the class bully rewarded with power and position.
Tritter thinks the world would be better without people like House, and he tries to make Foreman pick a side, to turn against House, but Foreman has already picked. He may not like House, but he hates guys like Tritter even more.
---
Whac-A-Mole
House is wrong. The kid will do the right thing, Foreman thinks. Jack’s just tired, sick, and in pain. In a week from now -- a month maybe -- once he’s had some rest, he’ll step up, tell them he’s ready.
Foreman ignores the thought in his head that Jack isn’t that strong, that no one is. Instead, he tells himself that Jack will be the one to bring his family back together.
If this kid can’t do it, then maybe no one can. Maybe no one’s family has a chance. Not even his, and Foreman doesn’t want to believe that’s true.
---
Finding Judas
In eighth grade, Eric stood up to the school bully. He bloodied the kid’s nose before one of the teachers broke up the fight. Eric came home with a note for his parents and his left eye swollen shut.
That night he’d stared at the bruised flesh in the mirror and smiled. He wasn’t just another fat kid any more. He felt older. Experienced. Different.
When Foreman sees Chase’s jaw it’s already swollen and discolored. Chase shoves some papers into his bag. He’s angry, but for a moment Foreman thinks there’s something else there, some emotion he can’t quite define.
---
Merry Little Christmas
Wilson and Cuddy are huddled just outside House’s office, trying to convince themselves that they can still make this stupid plan work. But Foreman’s seen House. He’s seen the bright eyes, the twitchy movements, heard the run-on speech patterns that are over the top even by House’s standards.
He’s on something. Probably not Vicodin, Foreman thinks, but they shouldn’t be surprised that he got his hands on something.
An addict is an addict, no matter how smart they are or how much money they make. Foreman shakes his head, and wonders how long it’ll be until they all learn that.
---
Words & Deeds
“Uncle Eddie’s been ... sick,” Mama told Eric when he saw his uncle. The man was thin and shaking and sat in a corner of the living room, looking like it took all of his energy just to breathe. Eric was scared to get too close to him.
Mama wouldn’t say what was wrong with her brother, but smiled when she said he was getting better now. “He’s going to be just fine.”
When Cameron says they should go find House, get his ideas on the case, Foreman shakes his head. “House has more important things to deal with,” he says.
---
One Day, One Room
Normal is waking up in his bed, just before the alarm goes off.
Normal is black coffee and a bowl of cereal.
Normal is pulling into his parking spot, and seeing the guard nod at him when he walks by.
Normal is taking his lab coat out of his locker, and putting it on.
Normal is walking past the ICU room where he was a patient only a year ago.
Normal is being the one standing over the bed, not lying in it.
Normal is good, Foreman tells House. Tell the girl that everything can be normal again. In time.
---
Needle In A Haystack
“I got a chance to scrub in on a surgery,” Wendy’s voice tells Foreman on the answering machine. “Sorry to cancel at the last minute. Hope you don’t mind.”
Foreman erases her message and starts making dinner. With the night on his own, he can finally catch up on his reading, he thinks.
He likes Wendy, even cares for her, but Foreman tells himself that he’s not like Stevie. He doesn’t need to be surrounded by people. Foreman’s always known he could do great things, and he isn’t about to let anyone hold him back, even people he cares about.
---
Insensitive
Wendy’s wrong. He’s nothing like House. He just wanted to help her. She doesn’t understand he’ll miss her, but for some reason he can’t bring himself to apologize, to ask her to stay, to ask her to forgive him.
If what he has with Wendy couldn’t survive a few years of grad school, it wasn’t meant to be. It’s better to know the truth about that now, rather than drag it out, and see them both suffer.
That’s how he’s different from House, he thinks. House would only bask in misery, and probably enjoying dragging someone else down with him.
---
Half-Wit
Foreman crumples his tie into a ball and throws it across the room. It flutters briefly, then lands softly on the floor. His eyes are scratchy and red, and scream for him to close them for at least an hour or two, rest.
He’s too wired. Too angry. Too pissed off to even sit still. He mumbles House’s name and wishes he had something he could hit.
He changes into a track suit and heads for the gym. Maybe if he can work off his aggression on some weights, he won’t actually hit House the next time he sees him.
---
Top Secret
So this is what he’s come to -- all those years of school, of residency and fellowships, and here he is checking some poor guy’s credit records.
The first time Foreman wanted to quit was when Marty reminded him of how much easier it had been starting a conversation without worrying about setting off some verbal land mine.
When he got sick, he was almost relieved by the thought he’d have to step away from treating patients. It was the perfect excuse.
Problem is, as much as Foreman wants to leave, he knows he can’t. He has too much to learn.
---
Fetal Position
Foreman watches Cuddy, sees the crazed look when she says she wants to drown Emma and her baby in corticosteroids. It’s a look he’s seen too often. House is an infection, making everyone believe that insanity is a normal option.
He watches the surgery from above, sees Cuddy face House down, her insanity topping his for once.
Foreman wonders if that’s what he’ll become before he walks away, or if he can hang onto the man he was before he slipped into House’s orbit. He’s not sure which person -- which doctor -- he wants to be, or which he should be.
---
Airborne
Cameron shakes her head and says Chase left without an explanation.
“He got this look on his face,” she tells Foreman. “You know the one.”
She doesn’t say it’s the same expression House has when he gets some off-the-wall idea, something that always seems to pay off. Foreman sees it and knows he’s made some jump in the thought process, something that leaves them all behind.
Foreman thinks if he studies those moments, he can do what House does, can finally understand it, measure it, quantify it, learn it. What House does isn’t magic, he tells himself. It can’t be.
---
Act Your Age
Foreman rolls his eyes at the sound of Chase and Cameron sniping at each other. Again. He’s beginning to think it was better when they were sleeping together. This, he thinks, is why he doesn’t date coworkers.
Sure he’s dated nurses, doctors, pharmacy reps, pharmacists. He even took up a heavy flirtation with the wavering trophy wife of one of his professors back in Baltimore. But there’s always fallout when work and pleasure mix too much.
He starts another test and reminds himself to leave his personal life -- his history -- at the door when he walks into the conference room.
---
House Training
It’s dark. Foreman didn’t notice the sunset, but now it’s gone gray inside his living room, punctuated by narrow shafts of light coming through the blinds from the street lights, and darker gray in the shadows.
He’s been sitting there, on the couch, since he got home. Since Lupe died. Since he left Mom. Since Dad claimed everything would be fine.
Foreman isn’t so sure. He isn’t sure of anything anymore. Everything he’d thought he could count on -- his skills as a doctor, his family, himself -- everything is gone now.
All he has left is the dark, and the shadows.
---
Family
It was so easy to block it all out -- the sound of Matty’s screams, the way his body trembled beneath his hands, the muscle quivering at his touch. All he could think of was how to save someone who was already lost, holding the boy still, clamping the restraints down tighter before he picked up the needle again, plunging it deep into the wriggling body, past skin and muscle and the “pop” as he punctured bone.
Foreman had even smiled when he saw he’d collected enough marrow. He’d been happy. Pleased with himself. Satisfied.
That’s what scares him the most.
---
Resignation
It’s easier to tell himself he won’t miss anyone. He won’t miss his apartment, or his crappy parking space, or the locker door that sticks. Foreman noticed scratches on the lock one day. He could never prove it was House who tried to pick it, but no one else would want to get inside.
Foreman has a fleeting thought that he should give House a lock pick as a farewell present. He smiles at the idea, then stops and shakes his head. He puts his C.V. in the envelope, seals it and puts it in the mail for New York.
---
The Jerk
“I’m sorry, Dr. Foreman, but I wasn’t expecting you.” Dr. Myers holds out his hand to shake Foreman’s. “I was told you canceled, that you weren’t interested in the job after all.”
“No,” Foreman says, “no, I ...” He can picture House, a stupid smile on his face, thinking he’s playing a game, and Foreman’s just a pawn on the board. Foreman takes a breath, tries to control his anger. He still needs to make the right impression.
“There must have been some misunderstanding,” Foreman says, and even manages a smile. “Perhaps we can reschedule, if you still have an opening.”
---
Human Error
“I need you,” House says, but before the words have even settled in the air, he’s calling Foreman a selfish bastard.
Foreman turns and walks out without another word. He’s said his goodbyes. He’s given House the only explanation he could.
A year from now, maybe two, he’ll hear some story about House from some other doctor, maybe see another paper in another journal on some breakthrough. Hell, the way House is going, it could just as well be his obituary.
“Yeah, I knew House,” he’ll say then. “The man was a genius, but you wouldn’t want to be him.”
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Date: 2007-06-12 03:20 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-06-12 12:26 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2007-06-12 04:44 pm (UTC)