Nov. 12th, 2005 10:46 pm
Title: Playing Field
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lovely_ambitionTitle: Playing Field
Fandom: House M.D.
Pairing: House, Chase
Prompt: Teammates
Word Count: 276
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: There are only ghosts on this playing field.
He finds House on fresh grass, blades manicured and manipulated into looking their absolute best. There are pieces of equipment scattered around; a ball here, a stick there, one net left up, but it’s just the remnants of what used to be there. Chase advances cautiously; he’s on dangerous, unsteady land. Somewhere, sometime, there are victory drinks, shouts and praise to a game well played and the MVP of the game.
Back at the hospital, their athlete – a rugby player, tough until the disease had come along – is getting worse and Chase has finally found House to come back and help them.
They need to start at square one, but first that means catching House’s attention.
He watches the way House clasps his cane, lips mouthing a player number, a player name, a futile, ‘go!’ and Chase winces with sympathy. Only the ghosts remain of a team that shouldered Gregory House to victory. Chase supposes he and the others act as shells, teammates to achieve the win, but they’re nameless, faceless, could be anyone.
“Wheels,” House barks, eyes closed and still drifting far into the past. “C’mon, go!”
There’s a dead sound of applause that thinly presents like a poltergeist, but Chase can hear it, somehow, he can hear it. He shivers in this place, this field of memories long past, no more victories on this playing grass. “House,” his voice comes out quietly, it probably sounds like someone from his past. “We’ve got to start again. He needs a new diagnosis.”
House’s eyes flicker open and he catches Chase’s gaze, snapping back to the present.
“New game,” he announces, his smirk dark. “Let’s play.”
end
Fandom: House M.D.
Pairing: House, Chase
Prompt: Teammates
Word Count: 276
Rating: PG
Author's Notes: There are only ghosts on this playing field.
He finds House on fresh grass, blades manicured and manipulated into looking their absolute best. There are pieces of equipment scattered around; a ball here, a stick there, one net left up, but it’s just the remnants of what used to be there. Chase advances cautiously; he’s on dangerous, unsteady land. Somewhere, sometime, there are victory drinks, shouts and praise to a game well played and the MVP of the game.
Back at the hospital, their athlete – a rugby player, tough until the disease had come along – is getting worse and Chase has finally found House to come back and help them.
They need to start at square one, but first that means catching House’s attention.
He watches the way House clasps his cane, lips mouthing a player number, a player name, a futile, ‘go!’ and Chase winces with sympathy. Only the ghosts remain of a team that shouldered Gregory House to victory. Chase supposes he and the others act as shells, teammates to achieve the win, but they’re nameless, faceless, could be anyone.
“Wheels,” House barks, eyes closed and still drifting far into the past. “C’mon, go!”
There’s a dead sound of applause that thinly presents like a poltergeist, but Chase can hear it, somehow, he can hear it. He shivers in this place, this field of memories long past, no more victories on this playing grass. “House,” his voice comes out quietly, it probably sounds like someone from his past. “We’ve got to start again. He needs a new diagnosis.”
House’s eyes flicker open and he catches Chase’s gaze, snapping back to the present.
“New game,” he announces, his smirk dark. “Let’s play.”
end
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"Only the ghosts remain of a team that shouldered Gregory House to victory. Chase supposes he and the others act as shells, teammates to achieve the win, but they’re nameless, faceless, could be anyone. "
oh, teh glorious angst... loved it.
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Thank you for reading!
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You captured House SO well, I could just SEE him right in my mind.
And poor Chase having to bring him back to the present...
♥
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