New Fic: Blythe's Story, Chapter Six
Nov. 23rd, 2008 10:58 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
namasteTitle: Blythe's Story, Chapter Six
Author: Namaste
Summary: "Blythe made sure that Greg obeyed her when they were home alone. He went to bed when he was told to, brushed his teeth, did every chore she gave him. But there were exceptions to every rule. John never saw the exceptions. He didn't believe in them. There were reasons for regulations, he said, and Marines obey them."
PG, 960 words.
Author's Note: Part Six of a look at House's early life, based on the new background we received in the fifth season episode "Birthmarks," using chapters of about 1,000 words. To start at the beginning: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five
Maybe it was the isolation.
Maybe it was because in Greece, for John's first overseas posting, there was no Phil or Jenny or baby to distract her. No large base housing neighborhood filled with other children for Greg to play with.
Maybe it was because John spent too much time thinking about what could happen to his family whenever he was out at sea, and he had too many hours of briefings about unrest in Cyprus and too many days flying air patrols in a region that seemed so unstable compared to home.
Maybe it was because Greg was getting older, growing stubborn and trying to knock down every boundary line his parents drew.
For a while, Blythe even thought that maybe it was just her imagination, but as months passed, she knew that wasn't true. The truth was there, waiting for her to discover it: Greg was happier when John wasn't home.
Greg loved his father -- Blythe was sure of that -- but he was quieter on the days that John was with them. He'd play in his room, rather than run through the apartment with his toys.
He'd turn the pages of his books, making out the words for himself, rather than demanding that someone read to him.
Outside, in the neighborhood near the docks where the Marine and Navy families lived, he'd stick close to John and Blythe if they were all together, but when he was alone with Blythe, he'd rush ahead of her down every alley, discovering the ancient city and the small shops hidden just out of sight.
John always said it wasn't safe, but Blythe loved watching the light in Greg's eyes with each new discovery. Besides, she would tell John, they were perfectly safe there in the city.
She'd take Greg to see the ruins and he'd climb the ancient stone steps and touch columns and bits of old statues. He'd come home with his hands dirty and the knees of his jeans grimy from the bits of dust and dirt driven deep into the denim.
"You need a bath," John would say anytime he saw Greg after one of their trips, cutting off the stories that Greg had about everything he'd seen. "We can talk once you get cleaned up."
Blythe knew how to set guidelines. She made sure that Greg obeyed her when they were home alone. He went to bed when he was told to, brushed his teeth, did every chore she gave him. But there were exceptions to every rule.
John never saw the exceptions. He didn't believe in them. There were reasons for regulations, he said, and Marines obey them.
"He's not a Marine," Blythe reminded him, but John shook his head.
"While we're here, he is. This isn't home," he said. "It isn't safe here."
John would never tell her anything about the reports he heard from the military, never told her what the pilots were looking for out there on their flights, but she could see the look in his eyes after a briefing, saw the lines deepen on his face whenever he spoke of the men under his command.
"Maybe you and Greg should go back home," he said.
But Blythe couldn't imagine being separated from him for months -- not when they still had a chance to be together. And breaking up Greg and John now seemed like it would only drive them apart further, the passing time creating a new wedge she couldn't fix.
John finally gave in, but he had more rules. There were things Greg couldn't do, and places they couldn't go.
Blythe told herself that even then that she could make it better. She could still see the way John's eyes would soften when he saw Greg sitting at the table, drawing with his crayons. She still saw the way that Greg would run to greet him when the ships pulled in to port.
She could make this work, she thought. She could still bring them together.
"You're too hard on him," Blythe said to John one night, after he'd scolded Greg for not taking his glass to the sink after he'd had milk.
"He knows the rules," John said. "Boys his age need discipline. Believe me, I know. I was a boy his age once too."
Blythe reached out for his hand. "And I remember you telling me about a few things you and your brothers got away with back then," she said. "That didn't seem to hurt you in the long run."
John took her hand in his. "I know, but times were different then. Over here -- " he let the phrase hang there for a minute, and stared out the window at the city around them, the signs filled with a language neither of them understood. "It's different now," he finally said. He lifted her hand, kissed the back of it. "I know what I'm doing. He's my son after all, isn't he?"
Blythe felt her stomach clench, as if John's words had been a physical punch, and one he'd intended. Every sense of guilt she'd ever had came surging back in a split second, like a tidal wave or a tornado. A lightning bolt from a clear blue sky. Every time she thought she could relax, forget what had happened, a moment like this loomed before her, and she was never prepared.
"Isn't he?" John repeated.
She looked into his eyes, wondering if she saw some bit of doubt there, if he'd finally added everything up, or if he was just teasing her, trying to make some sort of a joke. It was a joke, she decided. It had to be.
Blythe swallowed hard, and forced a smile onto her face. "Don't be silly," she said, "of course he is."
Chapter Seven: Letters, 1965
Author: Namaste
Summary: "Blythe made sure that Greg obeyed her when they were home alone. He went to bed when he was told to, brushed his teeth, did every chore she gave him. But there were exceptions to every rule. John never saw the exceptions. He didn't believe in them. There were reasons for regulations, he said, and Marines obey them."
PG, 960 words.
Author's Note: Part Six of a look at House's early life, based on the new background we received in the fifth season episode "Birthmarks," using chapters of about 1,000 words. To start at the beginning: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five
Maybe it was the isolation.
Maybe it was because in Greece, for John's first overseas posting, there was no Phil or Jenny or baby to distract her. No large base housing neighborhood filled with other children for Greg to play with.
Maybe it was because John spent too much time thinking about what could happen to his family whenever he was out at sea, and he had too many hours of briefings about unrest in Cyprus and too many days flying air patrols in a region that seemed so unstable compared to home.
Maybe it was because Greg was getting older, growing stubborn and trying to knock down every boundary line his parents drew.
For a while, Blythe even thought that maybe it was just her imagination, but as months passed, she knew that wasn't true. The truth was there, waiting for her to discover it: Greg was happier when John wasn't home.
Greg loved his father -- Blythe was sure of that -- but he was quieter on the days that John was with them. He'd play in his room, rather than run through the apartment with his toys.
He'd turn the pages of his books, making out the words for himself, rather than demanding that someone read to him.
Outside, in the neighborhood near the docks where the Marine and Navy families lived, he'd stick close to John and Blythe if they were all together, but when he was alone with Blythe, he'd rush ahead of her down every alley, discovering the ancient city and the small shops hidden just out of sight.
John always said it wasn't safe, but Blythe loved watching the light in Greg's eyes with each new discovery. Besides, she would tell John, they were perfectly safe there in the city.
She'd take Greg to see the ruins and he'd climb the ancient stone steps and touch columns and bits of old statues. He'd come home with his hands dirty and the knees of his jeans grimy from the bits of dust and dirt driven deep into the denim.
"You need a bath," John would say anytime he saw Greg after one of their trips, cutting off the stories that Greg had about everything he'd seen. "We can talk once you get cleaned up."
Blythe knew how to set guidelines. She made sure that Greg obeyed her when they were home alone. He went to bed when he was told to, brushed his teeth, did every chore she gave him. But there were exceptions to every rule.
John never saw the exceptions. He didn't believe in them. There were reasons for regulations, he said, and Marines obey them.
"He's not a Marine," Blythe reminded him, but John shook his head.
"While we're here, he is. This isn't home," he said. "It isn't safe here."
John would never tell her anything about the reports he heard from the military, never told her what the pilots were looking for out there on their flights, but she could see the look in his eyes after a briefing, saw the lines deepen on his face whenever he spoke of the men under his command.
"Maybe you and Greg should go back home," he said.
But Blythe couldn't imagine being separated from him for months -- not when they still had a chance to be together. And breaking up Greg and John now seemed like it would only drive them apart further, the passing time creating a new wedge she couldn't fix.
John finally gave in, but he had more rules. There were things Greg couldn't do, and places they couldn't go.
Blythe told herself that even then that she could make it better. She could still see the way John's eyes would soften when he saw Greg sitting at the table, drawing with his crayons. She still saw the way that Greg would run to greet him when the ships pulled in to port.
She could make this work, she thought. She could still bring them together.
"You're too hard on him," Blythe said to John one night, after he'd scolded Greg for not taking his glass to the sink after he'd had milk.
"He knows the rules," John said. "Boys his age need discipline. Believe me, I know. I was a boy his age once too."
Blythe reached out for his hand. "And I remember you telling me about a few things you and your brothers got away with back then," she said. "That didn't seem to hurt you in the long run."
John took her hand in his. "I know, but times were different then. Over here -- " he let the phrase hang there for a minute, and stared out the window at the city around them, the signs filled with a language neither of them understood. "It's different now," he finally said. He lifted her hand, kissed the back of it. "I know what I'm doing. He's my son after all, isn't he?"
Blythe felt her stomach clench, as if John's words had been a physical punch, and one he'd intended. Every sense of guilt she'd ever had came surging back in a split second, like a tidal wave or a tornado. A lightning bolt from a clear blue sky. Every time she thought she could relax, forget what had happened, a moment like this loomed before her, and she was never prepared.
"Isn't he?" John repeated.
She looked into his eyes, wondering if she saw some bit of doubt there, if he'd finally added everything up, or if he was just teasing her, trying to make some sort of a joke. It was a joke, she decided. It had to be.
Blythe swallowed hard, and forced a smile onto her face. "Don't be silly," she said, "of course he is."
Chapter Seven: Letters, 1965
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-23 04:51 pm (UTC)I'm just wondering -- should the last line be "Of course he is"? John's question is "He's my son after all, isn't he?" but Blythe's answer seems to be for a different question, perhaps "I am his father, aren't I?"
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-23 08:48 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-23 07:27 pm (UTC)(And I was going to mention the last line, too.)
*mems*
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-23 08:49 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-23 09:25 pm (UTC)Ouch.
I do feel terribly sorry for Blythe.
I am so happy that you did not turn John into an abusive creep, but that John's behaviour around Greg is shaped by the things he's seen and his fears for his family. Er, I think I'm just reiterating Nightdog.
Loved it.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-24 01:03 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-23 09:26 pm (UTC)The hint of John's suspicion is just gut-wrenching.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-24 01:04 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-23 11:11 pm (UTC)A very believable portrayal of John. I don't think he was a bad father for House,but that he and House just were not fit for each other.
Your Blythe is also wonderful. You can sense her fear and her love for both her son and her husband.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-24 01:06 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-23 11:24 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-24 01:07 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-23 11:36 pm (UTC)Oh, right -- there's this: Blythe told herself that even then that she could make it better.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-24 01:08 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-24 01:10 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-24 01:14 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-24 01:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-24 04:27 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-25 01:13 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-24 05:56 am (UTC)"While we're here, he is.
That always seems to be so much of the problem. John treated House like a recruit rather than like his child.
Another great update.
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-25 01:14 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-24 03:59 pm (UTC)"...but when he was alone with Blythe, he'd rush ahead of her down every alley, discovering the ancient city and the small shops hidden just out of sight.
John always said it wasn't safe, but Blythe loved watching the light in Greg's eyes with each new discovery."
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-25 01:15 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-25 10:08 am (UTC)Makes us all think that maybe John knows a little more than John's letting on. Hmm. Maybe this is part of why he treats Greg the way he does.
Speculation abounds :)
(no subject)
Date: 2008-11-27 02:14 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-01 11:51 am (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-01-01 03:28 pm (UTC)