Daily Drabble #18
Daily Drabble #18
Rating: G
Warning: kid!fic (part of the Church-verse)
Word Count: 453
Stacy had always known that House was capable of cruelty. After the infarction, she was taught this lesson first-hand. Yet, she never really expected the progress reports, complete with pictures, that House sent her every month. Without fail, the letter would arrive at her office on the first day of the month, addressed to her in House's familiar, scrawling hand.
Just as she'd expected, the baby is adorable, and later, breath-taking. He is the best of both of his parents, a sum greater than its parts. He is an extremely photogenic child, always mugging for the camera, always draping himself over Wilson whenever possible. She had always considered James to be boyishly good-looking, moving on toward handsome, but marriage and parenthood have made him absolutely stunning.
Lisa appears from time to time, but Church (and what a ridiculous nickname it is, too, but so very like House to come up with it) is not as free with her. Still, they are always happy, laughing. John and Blythe appear also, and how strange it is to see them with a child, John's stern mouth actually smiling. House's fellows are even present, for a time, but House stops sending pictures of them after a year or two. House is nowhere to be seen, presumably the one taking the pictures.
In this manner, she watches Church House grow from infant to toddler, from toddler to school-age.
As the months, then years, pass, Stacy is able to let go of her feelings of betrayal. Therapy has helped, and in some way, so have the pictures and letters. The pain lessens, and then disappears. Her own life is good, better than she's ever remembered it having been, and it seems that the same is true for House and his family.
The month before Church's sixth birthday, she receives her letter, right on time. It's not Greg's handwriting, though, but Wilson's. Almost unreadable, of course, and she finds herself laughing at remembered jokes at Wilson's expense. Inside the envelope is an invitation, and a short note.
"Stacy," it says, "As usual, House is three (or rather, six) steps ahead of me. I'm just now finding out about your correspondence over the last few years. I thought, in the spirit of friendship and cooperation and all that nonsense, you might like to meet the Antichrist in person. No pressure, of course, although I can't say you'll have fun. Any restaurant having costumed rats is hardly a fit place for anyone over the age of ten (not that you look a day over nine, I'm sure). Without reservation, J.W."
Three days later, holding her breath and praying for a voicemail recording, Stacy dials the number on the invitation.
(to be continued)
Rating: G
Warning: kid!fic (part of the Church-verse)
Word Count: 453
Stacy had always known that House was capable of cruelty. After the infarction, she was taught this lesson first-hand. Yet, she never really expected the progress reports, complete with pictures, that House sent her every month. Without fail, the letter would arrive at her office on the first day of the month, addressed to her in House's familiar, scrawling hand.
Just as she'd expected, the baby is adorable, and later, breath-taking. He is the best of both of his parents, a sum greater than its parts. He is an extremely photogenic child, always mugging for the camera, always draping himself over Wilson whenever possible. She had always considered James to be boyishly good-looking, moving on toward handsome, but marriage and parenthood have made him absolutely stunning.
Lisa appears from time to time, but Church (and what a ridiculous nickname it is, too, but so very like House to come up with it) is not as free with her. Still, they are always happy, laughing. John and Blythe appear also, and how strange it is to see them with a child, John's stern mouth actually smiling. House's fellows are even present, for a time, but House stops sending pictures of them after a year or two. House is nowhere to be seen, presumably the one taking the pictures.
In this manner, she watches Church House grow from infant to toddler, from toddler to school-age.
As the months, then years, pass, Stacy is able to let go of her feelings of betrayal. Therapy has helped, and in some way, so have the pictures and letters. The pain lessens, and then disappears. Her own life is good, better than she's ever remembered it having been, and it seems that the same is true for House and his family.
The month before Church's sixth birthday, she receives her letter, right on time. It's not Greg's handwriting, though, but Wilson's. Almost unreadable, of course, and she finds herself laughing at remembered jokes at Wilson's expense. Inside the envelope is an invitation, and a short note.
"Stacy," it says, "As usual, House is three (or rather, six) steps ahead of me. I'm just now finding out about your correspondence over the last few years. I thought, in the spirit of friendship and cooperation and all that nonsense, you might like to meet the Antichrist in person. No pressure, of course, although I can't say you'll have fun. Any restaurant having costumed rats is hardly a fit place for anyone over the age of ten (not that you look a day over nine, I'm sure). Without reservation, J.W."
Three days later, holding her breath and praying for a voicemail recording, Stacy dials the number on the invitation.
(to be continued)