Differential Diagnosis People: Ides of March
So the new episodes have ended, for the time being -- though hopefully we'll get a few more before the season officially ends. *fingers crossed* In the meantime, there's always time for fic. Check out this week's nominee, discuss what you like or don't like (anytime -- you don't have to wait for the poll for a discussion) and next week I'll post a poll.
The title and link: Ides of March
Fic begins here
Author: finding_jay
Nominated by: recrudescence
Summary: (So… reality was wrong.
Reality is almost always wrong.)
It makes sense because it had to.
Why does this fic belong in the Hall of Fame? Sad and intimate and beautiful. This is difficult to describe without giving away the key plot point, but each character rings true and the spare style is very well-handled. House is still sympathetic while remaining his acrid self in a situation that could easily have dissolved into schmoop, which is always a fine line to walk when writing a piece like this.
Excerpt:
'Did you honestly think I'd get better on my own?' House asked as he pulled up to a red light. 'Six months, that's chronic.'
'I was hoping- '
'I know what you were hoping, but that doesn't mean it was right.' House pushed down the pedal, turning the corner. The car was silent, the sky gray. Keeping his eyes on the road, he tried to keep his mind off Cuddy and Wilson.
He'd seen her cry before. Five years earlier, when her mother had finally been unable to fight breast cancer anymore. Cuddy had gone upstate for a few days to attend the funeral. When she came back, she would often get a funny look in her eyes, which were already red and puffy. She pulled Greg into a hug during one of those times, and while they never mentioned it, it felt very intimate. Like they had crossed a border.
Much like now.
The title and link: Ides of March
Fic begins here
Author: finding_jay
Nominated by: recrudescence
Summary: (So… reality was wrong.
Reality is almost always wrong.)
It makes sense because it had to.
Why does this fic belong in the Hall of Fame? Sad and intimate and beautiful. This is difficult to describe without giving away the key plot point, but each character rings true and the spare style is very well-handled. House is still sympathetic while remaining his acrid self in a situation that could easily have dissolved into schmoop, which is always a fine line to walk when writing a piece like this.
Excerpt:
'Did you honestly think I'd get better on my own?' House asked as he pulled up to a red light. 'Six months, that's chronic.'
'I was hoping- '
'I know what you were hoping, but that doesn't mean it was right.' House pushed down the pedal, turning the corner. The car was silent, the sky gray. Keeping his eyes on the road, he tried to keep his mind off Cuddy and Wilson.
He'd seen her cry before. Five years earlier, when her mother had finally been unable to fight breast cancer anymore. Cuddy had gone upstate for a few days to attend the funeral. When she came back, she would often get a funny look in her eyes, which were already red and puffy. She pulled Greg into a hug during one of those times, and while they never mentioned it, it felt very intimate. Like they had crossed a border.
Much like now.