So sleepy.

Jun. 25th, 2007 04:56 am
sabinelagrande: (rainbow rede)
[personal profile] sabinelagrande
Title: Father's Day
Summary: Cold reflections on a Sunday morning.
Fandom: House
Word Count: 660
Rating/Warnings: PG-13, non-graphic mentions of child abuse
Pairing: N/A. John House and 17-year-old Greg.
A/N: For [livejournal.com profile] house_fest. I hate how fans view John House; it's fairly obvious from canon that he's a pretty likable guy, which is even worse than being an out and out bastard. But it is too early in the morning for meta.



He traces Kilroy in the spilt salt on the table, waiting for the time to pass.

This is his father's favorite diner, so he's horribly unfamiliar and uncomfortable here. His mother shoved the two of them out of the house, knowing he'd been up all night drinking, saying how good it would be for him to take his father out for the holiday.

His father gives the waitress an almost untoward smile that she readily returns. It fades when she looks at him, moodily bent over the table. His father orders for the two of them, all smiles and slick charm, calling the waitress by name. She looks a little misty, and he's afraid for a long moment that she's going to say something she thinks is sweet, something about how he's so wonderful to take his wonderful father to breakfast on such a wonderful day. Maybe she's smarter than she looks, because she just smiles some more and goes.

His father talks at him for a while. He looks up, nodding at all the right places but not paying any attention, too tired for a fight. His father isn't exactly lecturing him, but it's not really a conversation either. It's just the way he talks, which is just like how he thinks: everyone else is slightly inferior for lack of being him, and it's just his duty to let them know how they should behave. The one good thing in the whole situation is that the waitress hovers with the coffee, keeping it fresh and copious.

They eat in silence. He tears through his ham and eggs, needing something on his stomach other than liquor and bitterness. He looks up to find a disapproving expression on his father's face; he doesn't need to wonder if he'll be punished for the infraction. Suddenly willful, he eats faster.

Over the pie that he can't understand anybody eating with breakfast, he lets his mind drift. His father is telling the same story that he tells on every father-son occasion, a long, heartwarming yarn about a fishing boat and a new tackle box. He can recite it forwards, backwards, and sideways, and so tries to make his glazed-over stare pass for filial devotion.

There's a counter story in his mind, something that breaks down the kodachrome dream of his father's story. He was ten. They were living with his grandparents for a summer between deployments, and his father took him fishing every weekend in his grandfather's big bass boat. It was something like paradise.

Then he made a stupid mistake, the kind of thing a ten year old does, and his grandfather's new reel ended up at the bottom of the lake. His grandfather had laughed and bought a new one, but his father wasn't satisfied. He spent a long, burning night sleeping in that boat, besieged by mosquitoes and crying quietly into his shirt.

He always hated fishing after that, but not for what his father had done. He got this idea into his head that if he could strip away everything that made him like his father, he might not become the same, might not need to be worshiped and feared to be happy. Fishing was first, then the rest of his hobbies, his favorite foods, everything right down to the way he tied his tie. The more he could separate himself, the less chance he would have of crushing the people around him.

His greatest fear is that he will wake up one day and it won't have worked.

His father finishes the story, and he makes appropriately maudlin comments. His father pays the check, with a big tip on the table for Smiley and friendly waves for all the regulars.

Greg keeps his hand in his jacket pocket as they leave, keeping his fingers and his heart clenched around the letter inside from Johns Hopkins. If he can only keep widening the distance, maybe even he will escape unscarred.

Date: 2007-06-25 11:04 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] joe-pike-junior.livejournal.com
You capture the distance that House has very well. I liked how you could make this bitter but not resigned.

Greg keeps his hand in his jacket pocket as they leave, keeping his fingers and his heart clenched around the letter inside from Johns Hopkins. If he can only keep widening the distance, maybe even he will escape unscarred.
I love a great closing line, and this one is brilliant. You show Greg enduring, but enduring something more than abuse.
The title is a great addition. The choice of distance, and the hangover, fit very well. You make the reader appreciate that House doesn't lie about being a bastard.

Well done, and cheers.
Armchair Elvis.

Date: 2007-06-25 04:31 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] wasabi-girl1.livejournal.com
I really enjoyed this. The way you portray John and Greg House is so realistic, I can definitely see this happening. In a way, neither are at fault, and in a way, both are. And even though you said it's too early for meta, I feel that, in a way, your story described how you feel about the two characters very clearly.

Date: 2007-06-26 07:32 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] leiascully.livejournal.com
Clutching fingers and clutching heart? Perfect.

Good work with this. I agree with you about John.

Date: 2007-07-01 12:50 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] cs-whitewolf.livejournal.com
I think you've portrayed John very well in this piece, or rather how House views his own father. It helps explain why he has such an awkward relationship with his own father at least.

Thanks for sharing!
Peace,
CS WhiteWolf

Date: 2007-09-22 06:06 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] angelfirenze.livejournal.com
*sighs* And here I came to you looking to be cheered up after [livejournal.com profile] ducks_in_a_row savaged my heart. Did I get cheered up? HELL, NO. And I know why, too. BECAUSE I TOTALLY AGREE WITH YOU! John House is generally savaged by fans and written as completely devoid of humanity. And I disagree with that. I needed to find a way to like him again, so I did. I'd love to know your opinion of the results.

That is, if you're willing to read them. *hopeful*

Date: 2007-10-07 03:36 am (UTC)
sabinetzin: (Default)
From: [personal profile] sabinetzin
Sorry it took so long to reply! I'm just now getting regular internet back. I'd totally love to check it out though. You have my email address, right?

Date: 2007-10-07 03:39 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] angelfirenze.livejournal.com
Actually, they're all in my memories under my fic index. Feel free to dive in.

Date: 2008-04-18 04:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] merlynnod.livejournal.com
This is such a wonderful bit of writing! And your portrayal of John was so, so right...It's not only true of canon (at least from the one episode in which John House made an appearance, not to mention the way that Cuddy and Wilson don't seem to understand why House dislikes his parents so much, once again showing that John seems to be a pleasant person on at least an outward level) but also so very true of real life as well. Abusers of both spouses and children are very often well-liked, even sometimes adored by friends, coworkers, communities, which is part of what makes it so very difficult for their victims to get help. No one believes that this person they're such good buddies with could possibly be anything else at home behind closed doors. Superb handling of a tricky and often miswritten/unacknowledged fact.

And Armchair Elvis really said it best...but I just feel a need to add my own humble (and not nearly so well worded ;) bit to it about House's enduring the hardships of his childhood. It goes into explaining so much about him, from his slack sense of personal grooming, to his clothing choices, even his lifestyle and hobbies. He is the antithesis of a Marine in every outward way, the physical embodiment of his desire to be *anything* but like his father.

Absolute favorite lines include:

"Not crushing the people around him" such a perfect metaphor for John's overbearing and eventually cruel treatment of his son.

"His greatest fear being that he'll wake up one day and it won't have worked" so, so perfect. I could very easily see that as another reason why House distances himself from those around him. Certainly part of it would be the archtypical response of an abused child, some block everyone else out, others go through serial relationships looking for someone to cling to; but another part of it could easily be from this attitude, the fear that at some point he will become his father, and the less people he has around him to hurt the better.

And the last line, "If he can only keep widening the distance, then maybe even he can escape unscarred." Oohh...that line is almost painful to read. He hopes, oh how he hopes that a new life in another state at University on the way to a profession that his father will never approve of is there...but he'll never get away from it. And he'll realize it soon enough. Some of the deepest and most lasting scars are those inflicted in childhood, and nearly eighteen years of abuse can never fully be erased.

And I'm sorry about the lenght of this post and at least one horribly grammatical run-on sentence... ;) But this was such a wonderful peice, and once I got started, all those biology abstracts and psych papers kicked in...and what can I say, I'm a professional college student at this point...I'm verbose. ;)

I hope you'll someday find this comment, as it's always wonderful to get feedback and praise. :) I hate it when I miss fic when it first comes out, especially good stuff. ;)

Wonderful story, and definitely going into my memories. :)

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