(no subject)
Daily rabble #26
Rating: PG-13
Warning: kid!fic (part of the Church-verse); mentions of character death; cursing; OCs
Word Count: 518 words
A/N: I'm probably going to get beat up, but starting Wednesday, I will be cutting down the amount of drabbles that I write. I've decided that juggling college, work, a boyfriend, family, and writing is either going to kill me, or the quality on all is going to suffer.
I WILL BE WRITING ON A SCHEDULE, THOUGH! Monday-Wednesday-Friday, with bonus drabbles on the weekend (the webcomic schedule, as I think of it).
Anyway, just letting everyone know on the up-front. Sorry, all, but my intention was to write drabbles, and I can't seem to stop myself short of 500 words. Instead, I'll spread out the MWF drabbles, and maybe have some more time to write on other H/W fics.
*small voice* Please don't hit me. I'm delicate.
"I don't know why I did that."
"Hang up on me again, and I'm driving home to see you. In the snow, in the dark, by myself."
"Wearing dirty underwear?"
"Yeah, dammit, with holes. Y'know those boxers you keep trying to throw away?"
"Didn't I throw them away?"
"Emphasis was on 'try', Jimmy my boy."
"Church. Don't."
"Don't what? Oh. Sorry. Jesus, where did all these freakin' land mines come from?"
"I don't know. I really don't."
...............................................
The years passed, and our hero grew from being a short, round, curly-haired imp into a tall, skinny, scowling teenager. More time, and the scowling teenager became a charming, silver-tongued young man, although still tall and skinny and curly-haired. His family also grew and changed, but always, he knew that they were supporting him.
If the kid had a snotty nose, his parents were on the spot. If he got locked up for public drunkenness, his parents were rousted out of bed. If he decided to wrap his car around a particularly obstinate concrete barrier, his parents were there, watching him being pulled from the wreckage.
Parent-teacher conferences? We were there. Graduations? We were there. Birthday parties at nauseating theme restaurants? We were there. Sick days and snow days and teacher work days? We were there. Booster shots and open houses and saving every available penny for college?
Are you with me so far? Yeah, we were there. Now, our hero's father...
Oh, hell. That's just abusing the metaphor. Me. Greg House. Formerly.
Now, the former Greg House doesn't mind taking credit for his part in raising his spawn, but he does know one thing for certain. Without Jimmy, the kid wouldn't have made it out of diapers.
I would have been alright with the big, important things; feeding him, toilet-training, The Talk. The little things (he hates gravy; he loves anything with cream cheese; he's scared of people in costumes; he makes this funny, growling noise in his throat when he's nervous; anything with red dye makes him itch) were always Jimmy's domain.
To be honest, looking back on the events of my son's life, trying to imagine doing it without Wilson, I know that half that stuff I wouldn't have remembered. The other half? I wouldn't have cared, until it was too late to do anything about it.
...............................................
"What are you doing?"
"Sleeping."
"Really sleeping, or are you just saying that so I can look back on sleep with remembered fondness?"
"Sleeping."
"That's why I love talking to you, Jer. You're just full of the conversation."
"3 a.m."
"Yeah, I know, sorry. Look, do you really, really, really have to go to work tomorrow?"
"Need a ride home?"
"I'm jealous, you're talking to him more than I am. I'm taking his number out of your phone."
"Just guessing."
"Good guess. Yeah, I need a ride, if you can swing it. You know I can't drive in snow."
"You want backup."
"If, by 'backup', you mean 'human shield', then yes."
"I feel loved."
"You really should."
"Fifteen minutes."
...............................................
(to be continued)
Rating: PG-13
Warning: kid!fic (part of the Church-verse); mentions of character death; cursing; OCs
Word Count: 518 words
A/N: I'm probably going to get beat up, but starting Wednesday, I will be cutting down the amount of drabbles that I write. I've decided that juggling college, work, a boyfriend, family, and writing is either going to kill me, or the quality on all is going to suffer.
I WILL BE WRITING ON A SCHEDULE, THOUGH! Monday-Wednesday-Friday, with bonus drabbles on the weekend (the webcomic schedule, as I think of it).
Anyway, just letting everyone know on the up-front. Sorry, all, but my intention was to write drabbles, and I can't seem to stop myself short of 500 words. Instead, I'll spread out the MWF drabbles, and maybe have some more time to write on other H/W fics.
*small voice* Please don't hit me. I'm delicate.
"I don't know why I did that."
"Hang up on me again, and I'm driving home to see you. In the snow, in the dark, by myself."
"Wearing dirty underwear?"
"Yeah, dammit, with holes. Y'know those boxers you keep trying to throw away?"
"Didn't I throw them away?"
"Emphasis was on 'try', Jimmy my boy."
"Church. Don't."
"Don't what? Oh. Sorry. Jesus, where did all these freakin' land mines come from?"
"I don't know. I really don't."
...............................................
The years passed, and our hero grew from being a short, round, curly-haired imp into a tall, skinny, scowling teenager. More time, and the scowling teenager became a charming, silver-tongued young man, although still tall and skinny and curly-haired. His family also grew and changed, but always, he knew that they were supporting him.
If the kid had a snotty nose, his parents were on the spot. If he got locked up for public drunkenness, his parents were rousted out of bed. If he decided to wrap his car around a particularly obstinate concrete barrier, his parents were there, watching him being pulled from the wreckage.
Parent-teacher conferences? We were there. Graduations? We were there. Birthday parties at nauseating theme restaurants? We were there. Sick days and snow days and teacher work days? We were there. Booster shots and open houses and saving every available penny for college?
Are you with me so far? Yeah, we were there. Now, our hero's father...
Oh, hell. That's just abusing the metaphor. Me. Greg House. Formerly.
Now, the former Greg House doesn't mind taking credit for his part in raising his spawn, but he does know one thing for certain. Without Jimmy, the kid wouldn't have made it out of diapers.
I would have been alright with the big, important things; feeding him, toilet-training, The Talk. The little things (he hates gravy; he loves anything with cream cheese; he's scared of people in costumes; he makes this funny, growling noise in his throat when he's nervous; anything with red dye makes him itch) were always Jimmy's domain.
To be honest, looking back on the events of my son's life, trying to imagine doing it without Wilson, I know that half that stuff I wouldn't have remembered. The other half? I wouldn't have cared, until it was too late to do anything about it.
...............................................
"What are you doing?"
"Sleeping."
"Really sleeping, or are you just saying that so I can look back on sleep with remembered fondness?"
"Sleeping."
"That's why I love talking to you, Jer. You're just full of the conversation."
"3 a.m."
"Yeah, I know, sorry. Look, do you really, really, really have to go to work tomorrow?"
"Need a ride home?"
"I'm jealous, you're talking to him more than I am. I'm taking his number out of your phone."
"Just guessing."
"Good guess. Yeah, I need a ride, if you can swing it. You know I can't drive in snow."
"You want backup."
"If, by 'backup', you mean 'human shield', then yes."
"I feel loved."
"You really should."
"Fifteen minutes."
...............................................
(to be continued)