New Fic: Blythe's Story Chapter 29 of 32
Mar. 11th, 2009 06:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
namasteTitle: Blythe's Story, Chapter 29 of 32
Author: Namaste
Summary: "This four-day whirlwind tour of campuses might be their last adventure together."
PG, 944 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. And yes, it'll be 32 chapters in total. Three more to go.
To start at the beginning: Chapter One
Greg slouched further down into his coat, as if he could disappear like the coins did in his magic tricks, or at least fade into the background. His hands were in his pockets and Blythe could hear his shoes scuff against the concrete. She fought the urge to tell him to stand up straight and pick up his feet when he walked.
He followed a few steps behind her and the student tour guide as they crossed another campus courtyard, the buildings around them made of gray stone that reflected the late autumn sky and Greg's mood.
He hadn't wanted to come here. Blythe had insisted.
"What's so bad about visiting Harvard?" she'd asked last week. "We're going to Yale, to Columbia, to Brown, to --"
"And why not just stop at Annapolis while you're there?" John had added. "Just to take a look."
"Harvard's pretentious," Greg had said, "and I'm looking for a college, not military school."
John just grunted. He always claimed that he wanted Greg to make his own path in life. "Be your own man," he'd say. But Blythe knew there was a part of him that still hoped Greg would follow his steps.
When Greg was a baby, John bought him toy airplanes. Later he'd buy model airplanes, and sit with him at the table, the two of them piecing together bodies and wings and landing gear from bits of hard plastic until their fingers were sticky from the glue.
"He wants to be a doctor," Blythe had reminded him that night.
"That's what he says now," John said. "Before that he wanted to be a scientist, and before that he was going to be a chemist, and before that he was going to be an archeologist, and then ..."
"He isn't going to change his mind this time."
"How can you be sure?"
"Because I am." Blythe smiled, picturing Greg hunched over an old medical text book he'd found at a garage sale, then imagining him in a white coat someday, his stethoscope slung over his neck.
This four-day whirlwind tour of campuses might be their last adventure together, Blythe knew. He wanted to narrow down his choices. Blythe wanted to be there at the start of his next journey, even if he'd finish it on his own. She'd insisted on adding Harvard to his list.
"It won't hurt to look," she'd said.
She'd wondered why Greg didn't want to apply there. He could get in. He'd been hearing from some of the top colleges in the country ever since his SAT scores came out. Harvard was the best school there was, with the best medical program. Greg deserved the best, and Blythe wanted it for him, even if didn't want it for himself.
When they first arrived at the campus, she'd fallen in love with the stone and red brick buildings, the classical architecture, the old trees that filled every green space. There was history here. There were roots that went back for centuries, roots that Greg had never gotten from temporary housing at one air base that looked exactly like the last. Blythe realized that the four years Greg would spend in college would be the longest he'd ever stayed in one place. It should be the right place.
The tour guide pointed to a statue on the other side of the courtyard, and Blythe turned to look at it. Greg glanced in its direction, then looked away. He wasn't sulking. Blythe knew what that looked like. And she knew this look as well. He was taking in everything around him, silently weighing its value, and at the same time finding that value lacking. She followed his gaze to the students gathered in front of one building.
They looked perfect. Young and lean and beautiful. They laughed and she smiled. The tour guide said something about giving them time to look around for themselves and wandered off to talk to someone else.
Blythe stepped closer to Greg. "Wouldn't you like to be here?"
He shrugged. "Not my style," he said.
The students were making their way across the lawn now, and Blythe tried to picture Greg walking alongside them. She couldn't. She could see him as a doctor, but not this. Not here. She tried again, seeing Greg's loose limbed gait, his book bag slung across his shoulder. But even in her imagination, he was set apart from the others – alongside them but not one of them.
She turned to look at Greg again, saw the way his shoulders were set tight, his eyes drawn together. She wondered what it was he was seeing that she didn't see, what future he was imagining for himself here.
Blythe loved the idea of Harvard for Greg because of its roots and traditions, its reputation. Maybe Greg saw it as yet another place where he wouldn't fit in, a place filled with rules and regulations – its history as confining as the rules on every base where they'd lived.
She wanted the best for Greg, but she was beginning to guess that what was best for him might not be what she wanted.
Blythe had been making decisions about what she thought would be best for Greg since before he was born. Maybe it was time to trust him to figure things out for himself.
"You can go wherever you want, honey." She squeezed his arm, and he looked down at her. She thought his eyes seemed to soften a little, and his posture eased slightly. He smiled slightly, the first time he'd seemed happy since they took the exit toward Cambridge.
"Don't worry," he said, his smile widening. "I will."
Chapter 30
Author: Namaste
Summary: "This four-day whirlwind tour of campuses might be their last adventure together."
PG, 944 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. And yes, it'll be 32 chapters in total. Three more to go.
To start at the beginning: Chapter One
Greg slouched further down into his coat, as if he could disappear like the coins did in his magic tricks, or at least fade into the background. His hands were in his pockets and Blythe could hear his shoes scuff against the concrete. She fought the urge to tell him to stand up straight and pick up his feet when he walked.
He followed a few steps behind her and the student tour guide as they crossed another campus courtyard, the buildings around them made of gray stone that reflected the late autumn sky and Greg's mood.
He hadn't wanted to come here. Blythe had insisted.
"What's so bad about visiting Harvard?" she'd asked last week. "We're going to Yale, to Columbia, to Brown, to --"
"And why not just stop at Annapolis while you're there?" John had added. "Just to take a look."
"Harvard's pretentious," Greg had said, "and I'm looking for a college, not military school."
John just grunted. He always claimed that he wanted Greg to make his own path in life. "Be your own man," he'd say. But Blythe knew there was a part of him that still hoped Greg would follow his steps.
When Greg was a baby, John bought him toy airplanes. Later he'd buy model airplanes, and sit with him at the table, the two of them piecing together bodies and wings and landing gear from bits of hard plastic until their fingers were sticky from the glue.
"He wants to be a doctor," Blythe had reminded him that night.
"That's what he says now," John said. "Before that he wanted to be a scientist, and before that he was going to be a chemist, and before that he was going to be an archeologist, and then ..."
"He isn't going to change his mind this time."
"How can you be sure?"
"Because I am." Blythe smiled, picturing Greg hunched over an old medical text book he'd found at a garage sale, then imagining him in a white coat someday, his stethoscope slung over his neck.
This four-day whirlwind tour of campuses might be their last adventure together, Blythe knew. He wanted to narrow down his choices. Blythe wanted to be there at the start of his next journey, even if he'd finish it on his own. She'd insisted on adding Harvard to his list.
"It won't hurt to look," she'd said.
She'd wondered why Greg didn't want to apply there. He could get in. He'd been hearing from some of the top colleges in the country ever since his SAT scores came out. Harvard was the best school there was, with the best medical program. Greg deserved the best, and Blythe wanted it for him, even if didn't want it for himself.
When they first arrived at the campus, she'd fallen in love with the stone and red brick buildings, the classical architecture, the old trees that filled every green space. There was history here. There were roots that went back for centuries, roots that Greg had never gotten from temporary housing at one air base that looked exactly like the last. Blythe realized that the four years Greg would spend in college would be the longest he'd ever stayed in one place. It should be the right place.
The tour guide pointed to a statue on the other side of the courtyard, and Blythe turned to look at it. Greg glanced in its direction, then looked away. He wasn't sulking. Blythe knew what that looked like. And she knew this look as well. He was taking in everything around him, silently weighing its value, and at the same time finding that value lacking. She followed his gaze to the students gathered in front of one building.
They looked perfect. Young and lean and beautiful. They laughed and she smiled. The tour guide said something about giving them time to look around for themselves and wandered off to talk to someone else.
Blythe stepped closer to Greg. "Wouldn't you like to be here?"
He shrugged. "Not my style," he said.
The students were making their way across the lawn now, and Blythe tried to picture Greg walking alongside them. She couldn't. She could see him as a doctor, but not this. Not here. She tried again, seeing Greg's loose limbed gait, his book bag slung across his shoulder. But even in her imagination, he was set apart from the others – alongside them but not one of them.
She turned to look at Greg again, saw the way his shoulders were set tight, his eyes drawn together. She wondered what it was he was seeing that she didn't see, what future he was imagining for himself here.
Blythe loved the idea of Harvard for Greg because of its roots and traditions, its reputation. Maybe Greg saw it as yet another place where he wouldn't fit in, a place filled with rules and regulations – its history as confining as the rules on every base where they'd lived.
She wanted the best for Greg, but she was beginning to guess that what was best for him might not be what she wanted.
Blythe had been making decisions about what she thought would be best for Greg since before he was born. Maybe it was time to trust him to figure things out for himself.
"You can go wherever you want, honey." She squeezed his arm, and he looked down at her. She thought his eyes seemed to soften a little, and his posture eased slightly. He smiled slightly, the first time he'd seemed happy since they took the exit toward Cambridge.
"Don't worry," he said, his smile widening. "I will."
Chapter 30