New Fic: Blythe's Story Chapter 26
Feb. 21st, 2009 09:05 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
namasteTitle: Blythe's Story, Chapter 26
Author: Namaste
Summary: "Blythe leaned over and whispered into Greg's ear. "Who is he?" she asked.
"The janitor."
PG, about 980 words.
Author’s Note: 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
At first, Blythe thought he felt guilty.
"No one blames you, you know," she told Greg as they sat side-by-side in the hospital hallway, waiting for the nurse to tell them they could go in and see Mike. "Everyone knows it was an accident."
"I know that," Greg said.
Blythe didn't know Mike or his family until Greg called her from the hospital a few days ago – hours after he should have been home from school -- telling her in rushed sentences about how Mike had fallen from the cliffs. Greg barely knew him. He admitted later that he'd only tagged along because Mike had a scooter, and could get them outside the base's fence line into the city and countryside beyond.
Greg was always looking for escape, and Japan gave him something new to explore. It was a new world, with houses crammed into tiny alleys, bright neon lights and food that Blythe had never tasted before. It was also a world that John didn't understand. Blythe guessed that was half the attraction for Greg.
Blythe had calmly assured Greg he wasn't in trouble when she picked him up. He barely said anything that night, and barely ate anything. She wondered if he'd been scared out there by the rocks, with no one else to help him, but he'd said that he was fine.
The next day he came home right after school, and asked her to take him back.
"Are you sure?" she asked, and he quickly nodded.
Children weren't allowed on the floors without an adult, and Blythe walked alongside him, sat with him while they waited, and talked to Mike's parents. She did her best to comfort them when they told her he had a fever that wouldn't go away, and tried not to imagine Greg in his place.
Greg barely said anything to Mike when he was finally allowed in the room for ten minutes. He told him what he'd missed in school, and that a girl that had asked about him. Then he just stood next to the bed, staring at the monitors and tubes until his visiting time was up.
The next day, he asked to go back again. Blythe took a long look at him. Greg was as tall as she was now, and she could look in his eyes without bending down, and without forcing him to look up. He looked anxious, even excited, at the thought of going.
He still seemed excited as they sat there, waiting. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, watching through the open curtain into the room, and swiveling his head to the left and to the right every time someone came within eyesight.
There was someone new in Mike's room when they finally were allowed inside. Another doctor, she guessed, though this one had a shaggier haircut than the other doctors. He wore inexpensive sandals, rather than the polished leather shoes she'd seen on the other men, and his stained lab coat didn't fit him very well.
She didn't understand what he said, but she saw that everyone else nodded at his words. She looked over at Greg, and saw the way his eyes widened as he looked at the doctor. It was if he wanted to take in everything about him, wanted to memorize him.
It wasn't Mike that he wanted to see, Blythe realized. It wasn't about guilt because of his fall. It was this place. And this man.
Blythe leaned over and whispered into Greg's ear. "Who is he?" she asked.
"The janitor." There was no smile on Greg's face. It wasn't a joke – or at least it wasn't one that he was in on.
As the man shuffled out of the room, both Blythe and Greg watched him go.
The next day, Mike was doing better. His parents were smiling, and told Blythe about how they'd found the right medicine to treat his infection. Mike would be going home in another day or two.
The janitor wasn't there.
Greg nudged her elbow. "Let's go," he said.
Greg didn't say much that night or the next day, but she found her home medical handbook in his bedroom. Two days later, he came home with three books from the base library stuffed in his backpack. Blythe opened one, and saw drawings of nerve systems and blood vessels, muscle groups and the small bones of the hand.
More books followed; one after the other. He spent a Saturday inside the library and came home with a notebook filled with crude sketches labeled in his own handwriting.
"They won't let me check out 'Gray's Anatomy,'" he said.
Blythe was reminded of Egypt, and seeing how Greg took in everything he could find about mummies. She was reminded of Athens, and the way he memorized the ancient legends as if he was the first boy to ever hear them. She was reminded of watching him as he listened to a new piece of music, then worked out each note on the piano.
And she was reminded of John, of the way he'd stare at a new plane, calculating its lift and speed by the shape of the wing. She was reminded of the way he'd study the weather, and watch the clouds, and of the way that he could shut everything else out and focus on whatever was important, pushing through until the job was done.
Greg got that from John – that focus, that single minded stubbornness that wouldn't allow for any compromise, the moments when he shut everything else out. Including her.
But that didn't matter now, Blythe told herself. She sat at the table across from Greg and watched him read, watched the way his fingers traced the line of a diagram, watched the way he smiled when he learned something new, and felt herself smile along with him.
This, she thought, was what mattered.
Chapter 27
Author: Namaste
Summary: "Blythe leaned over and whispered into Greg's ear. "Who is he?" she asked.
"The janitor."
PG, about 980 words.
Author’s Note: 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
At first, Blythe thought he felt guilty.
"No one blames you, you know," she told Greg as they sat side-by-side in the hospital hallway, waiting for the nurse to tell them they could go in and see Mike. "Everyone knows it was an accident."
"I know that," Greg said.
Blythe didn't know Mike or his family until Greg called her from the hospital a few days ago – hours after he should have been home from school -- telling her in rushed sentences about how Mike had fallen from the cliffs. Greg barely knew him. He admitted later that he'd only tagged along because Mike had a scooter, and could get them outside the base's fence line into the city and countryside beyond.
Greg was always looking for escape, and Japan gave him something new to explore. It was a new world, with houses crammed into tiny alleys, bright neon lights and food that Blythe had never tasted before. It was also a world that John didn't understand. Blythe guessed that was half the attraction for Greg.
Blythe had calmly assured Greg he wasn't in trouble when she picked him up. He barely said anything that night, and barely ate anything. She wondered if he'd been scared out there by the rocks, with no one else to help him, but he'd said that he was fine.
The next day he came home right after school, and asked her to take him back.
"Are you sure?" she asked, and he quickly nodded.
Children weren't allowed on the floors without an adult, and Blythe walked alongside him, sat with him while they waited, and talked to Mike's parents. She did her best to comfort them when they told her he had a fever that wouldn't go away, and tried not to imagine Greg in his place.
Greg barely said anything to Mike when he was finally allowed in the room for ten minutes. He told him what he'd missed in school, and that a girl that had asked about him. Then he just stood next to the bed, staring at the monitors and tubes until his visiting time was up.
The next day, he asked to go back again. Blythe took a long look at him. Greg was as tall as she was now, and she could look in his eyes without bending down, and without forcing him to look up. He looked anxious, even excited, at the thought of going.
He still seemed excited as they sat there, waiting. He leaned forward with his elbows on his knees, watching through the open curtain into the room, and swiveling his head to the left and to the right every time someone came within eyesight.
There was someone new in Mike's room when they finally were allowed inside. Another doctor, she guessed, though this one had a shaggier haircut than the other doctors. He wore inexpensive sandals, rather than the polished leather shoes she'd seen on the other men, and his stained lab coat didn't fit him very well.
She didn't understand what he said, but she saw that everyone else nodded at his words. She looked over at Greg, and saw the way his eyes widened as he looked at the doctor. It was if he wanted to take in everything about him, wanted to memorize him.
It wasn't Mike that he wanted to see, Blythe realized. It wasn't about guilt because of his fall. It was this place. And this man.
Blythe leaned over and whispered into Greg's ear. "Who is he?" she asked.
"The janitor." There was no smile on Greg's face. It wasn't a joke – or at least it wasn't one that he was in on.
As the man shuffled out of the room, both Blythe and Greg watched him go.
The next day, Mike was doing better. His parents were smiling, and told Blythe about how they'd found the right medicine to treat his infection. Mike would be going home in another day or two.
The janitor wasn't there.
Greg nudged her elbow. "Let's go," he said.
Greg didn't say much that night or the next day, but she found her home medical handbook in his bedroom. Two days later, he came home with three books from the base library stuffed in his backpack. Blythe opened one, and saw drawings of nerve systems and blood vessels, muscle groups and the small bones of the hand.
More books followed; one after the other. He spent a Saturday inside the library and came home with a notebook filled with crude sketches labeled in his own handwriting.
"They won't let me check out 'Gray's Anatomy,'" he said.
Blythe was reminded of Egypt, and seeing how Greg took in everything he could find about mummies. She was reminded of Athens, and the way he memorized the ancient legends as if he was the first boy to ever hear them. She was reminded of watching him as he listened to a new piece of music, then worked out each note on the piano.
And she was reminded of John, of the way he'd stare at a new plane, calculating its lift and speed by the shape of the wing. She was reminded of the way he'd study the weather, and watch the clouds, and of the way that he could shut everything else out and focus on whatever was important, pushing through until the job was done.
Greg got that from John – that focus, that single minded stubbornness that wouldn't allow for any compromise, the moments when he shut everything else out. Including her.
But that didn't matter now, Blythe told herself. She sat at the table across from Greg and watched him read, watched the way his fingers traced the line of a diagram, watched the way he smiled when he learned something new, and felt herself smile along with him.
This, she thought, was what mattered.
Chapter 27
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2009-02-21 08:32 pm (UTC)(no subject)
Date: 2009-02-21 10:40 pm (UTC)