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house_wilson_ghc2011-12-01 03:58 pm
sydpenguinbunny.livejournal.com) wrote in house_wilson_ghc2011-12-01 03:58 pm
Reunions, Chapter Seventeen
title: Reunions
author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sydpenguinbunny
pairing: House/Wilson, 13/[surprise]
rating: PG-13, thus far
summary: House is trying to continue his life without incident after the events from S7, but people from his past keep coming back...
warnings (if any): Spoilers for 7x23. Character death.
author/artist notes (if any): Feedback is most loved!!!
Chapter One: Case Study
Chapter Two: Complications
Chapter Three: Hello Again, Dr. House
Chapter Four: Complete History
Chapter Five: New Hire
Chapter Six: Reluctance
Chapter Seven: Power
Chapter Eight: Pinballs
Chapter Nine: A Girl Worth Fighting For
Chapter Ten: Sparring Match
Chapter Eleven: Pick Up the Pieces
Chapter Twelve: A Turn for the Worse
Chapter Thirteen: The Answer Is...
Chapter Fourteen: Simple Request
Chapter Fifteen: Broken
Chapter Sixteen: Aftermath
Chapter Seventeen: December Dream
A gust of frozen wind whipped past House’s ears, and he turned in its direction, as if he could visualize it somehow. But it was gone in a flash and what he was faced with instead was Wilson’s eyes, turned downward and not paying attention to the companions on either side of him. Below him was dark green grass, hardened into the ground, and House could tell without saying a word that he must have been thinking about Amber, about the time that he had done this before. Or Kutner. Had Wilson come to Kutner’s funeral? He couldn’t recall, or even recall if he had, himself.
“We are gathered here today,” intoned a deep, unemotional voice. “To say goodbye to Detective Michael Tritter, a man who served his community as a police officer and his family as a son and a brother.”
House’s mind drifted off, disconnecting from what the man was saying. After all, they always said the same things at these things. He glanced over at Thirteen, who seemed to be paying attention, and Wilson, who still seemed to be trying to not pay attention at all. A little further up was Candy, standing on either side of a girl with long black hair and a younger girl with dirty-blonde hair. Candy was crying, leaning into the black-haired girl’s shoulder and clutching her tightly.
House still wasn’t entirely sure why he was here, but he was. Maybe it was a warning, to himself. How unlike Tritter was he really, when all was said and done? And look now, what Tritter turned into. What he became. What became of him. If Wilson was speaking to him instead of staring now, that’s the lecture he’d give, the message he would pass on to him.
“Dr. House.” A voice jerked him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see a young African-American female, maybe in her late twenties, with short black hair and dressed in a black blouse and a long black-and-white skirt. “I have to say, I’m surprised to see you here.” Seeing no recognition in his eyes, she continued. “We’ve never met, but I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Detective Tritter’s partner, Miranda Bennett.” She extended her hand and shook House’s, almost against his will.
“Oh,” House replied. Wilson and Thirteen both stepped to either side of him, almost like some sort of a convoy.
“I’m Dr. Wilson, Dr. House’s colleague, and this is Dr. Hadley. We were very sorry to… hear…” Wilson trailed off, swallowing hard and not mentioning that they hadn’t simply heard but had been firsthand witnesses to Tritter’s demise. After all, she had to know that – all of the gory details. There was no need to rehash, or even to allude.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Miranda told them. “Dr. Hadley, Detective Tritter mentioned you. He seemed to be very impressed with you.” She smiled cheekily but each doctor could tell that it was a front.
“He did?” Thirteen asked in surprised.
“Yes,” Miranda replied, “He texted me saying he’d met this amazing young doctor.” She glanced at the surprise that must have spread across each face. “He didn’t talk to many people,” she began, “But he talked to me a little. Let me in a little. Everyone has to have at least one person they can be themselves around.” She stuck her hands in her pockets and looked away for a moment. “Which isn’t to say – I don’t know, that I really knew him. I don’t know if he was someone you could…” She trailed off, then stood up a little straighter with a start. “Wait, I need to be up there.” She cut off what she was saying and made her way towards the small wooden stage that had been set up off to the far left of the field. Miranda stepped up on to the ledge and cleared her throat.
“You think they were an item?” House whispered to Wilson, who glared.
“Thank you all for coming out here today,” Miranda began. “I see a lot of old faces… and a lot of new faces, too.” There weren’t very many faces at all; besides Miranda and Candy’s group, there were a few other people who appeared to be dressed like police detectives and a small cluster of about four of five young women. “I first met Michael Tritter two years ago, when I transferred from the Camden Police Department to the Princeton Detective Bureau. I was assigned to be his partner.” Miranda looked down, swallowing audibly, before continuing. “He taught me everything that I needed to know about being a cop. He taught me to never give up. He taught me… to always know what I was doing was right, or… to make sure that I knew what I was doing was right. He wasn’t perfect. He was never perfect, but he was good. He didn’t… there weren’t a lot of people who he showed that side to, and I’m honored to have been one of them. Above all, Michael Tritter loved his family.” Miranda pointed over to Candy and the other girls. “His nieces… Vanessa, Candace, and Hayley – they can attest to that. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for them.” She smiled sadly. “He will be deeply, deeply missed by all who knew him. I just wanted… to close by playing a song that was one of… my partner’s favorites. This is ‘December Dream’, by Klaatu.”
Miranda left the song to play as she exited the stage, approaching the group of women and smiling at them, exchanging a few words before glancing over at House with a look that mixed suspicion and gratitude.
She emerged at his side again.
“You know, I couldn’t place where I knew those women from,” she told House. “And then I did.” She narrowed her eyes. “I used to be a vice cop, you know,” she added simply before disappearing again.
“What was that all about?” Thirteen inquired.
“Nothing,” House replied. “Nothing at all.”
“You ordered hookers for Tritter’s funeral,” Thirteen continued. House didn’t reply. “Why did you order hookers for Tritter’s funeral?”
“I kind of figured the turnout would be low, so I got Eve to make some calls,” House whispered back. “No need to thank me.” Thirteen glared at him, and Wilson just shook his head.
After this followed a haze in which apparently some people spoke, and apparently some things happened, but none of the three could have recalled any of those things if they had been questioned on it. It was simply a fog. At some point they left to bring the coffin to the cemetery, and each person could lay an item, something that Tritter could, hypothetically, take with him on his journey across the river Styx or wherever he might be traversing.
Wilson and Thirteen left nothing, not even their thoughts.
House crouched down with a small packet in his hand, even as Wilson moved to stop him. He would have grabbed his friend’s shoulder until he realized the item was a small pack of nicotine gum.
He managed to stop himself from admitting he thought it’d be a thermometer.
There was no discussion, no agreement, simply a motion after that – House limping forward first, followed by Wilson and trailed by Thirteen, and each climbed in tandem on House’s motorcycle.
The diagnostician hit the gas and they thrust off into the distance, into somewhere, into anywhere but there.
author:
sydpenguinbunnypairing: House/Wilson, 13/[surprise]
rating: PG-13, thus far
summary: House is trying to continue his life without incident after the events from S7, but people from his past keep coming back...
warnings (if any): Spoilers for 7x23. Character death.
author/artist notes (if any): Feedback is most loved!!!
Chapter One: Case Study
Chapter Two: Complications
Chapter Three: Hello Again, Dr. House
Chapter Four: Complete History
Chapter Five: New Hire
Chapter Six: Reluctance
Chapter Seven: Power
Chapter Eight: Pinballs
Chapter Nine: A Girl Worth Fighting For
Chapter Ten: Sparring Match
Chapter Eleven: Pick Up the Pieces
Chapter Twelve: A Turn for the Worse
Chapter Thirteen: The Answer Is...
Chapter Fourteen: Simple Request
Chapter Fifteen: Broken
Chapter Sixteen: Aftermath
Chapter Seventeen: December Dream
A gust of frozen wind whipped past House’s ears, and he turned in its direction, as if he could visualize it somehow. But it was gone in a flash and what he was faced with instead was Wilson’s eyes, turned downward and not paying attention to the companions on either side of him. Below him was dark green grass, hardened into the ground, and House could tell without saying a word that he must have been thinking about Amber, about the time that he had done this before. Or Kutner. Had Wilson come to Kutner’s funeral? He couldn’t recall, or even recall if he had, himself.
“We are gathered here today,” intoned a deep, unemotional voice. “To say goodbye to Detective Michael Tritter, a man who served his community as a police officer and his family as a son and a brother.”
House’s mind drifted off, disconnecting from what the man was saying. After all, they always said the same things at these things. He glanced over at Thirteen, who seemed to be paying attention, and Wilson, who still seemed to be trying to not pay attention at all. A little further up was Candy, standing on either side of a girl with long black hair and a younger girl with dirty-blonde hair. Candy was crying, leaning into the black-haired girl’s shoulder and clutching her tightly.
House still wasn’t entirely sure why he was here, but he was. Maybe it was a warning, to himself. How unlike Tritter was he really, when all was said and done? And look now, what Tritter turned into. What he became. What became of him. If Wilson was speaking to him instead of staring now, that’s the lecture he’d give, the message he would pass on to him.
“Dr. House.” A voice jerked him out of his thoughts, and he looked up to see a young African-American female, maybe in her late twenties, with short black hair and dressed in a black blouse and a long black-and-white skirt. “I have to say, I’m surprised to see you here.” Seeing no recognition in his eyes, she continued. “We’ve never met, but I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Detective Tritter’s partner, Miranda Bennett.” She extended her hand and shook House’s, almost against his will.
“Oh,” House replied. Wilson and Thirteen both stepped to either side of him, almost like some sort of a convoy.
“I’m Dr. Wilson, Dr. House’s colleague, and this is Dr. Hadley. We were very sorry to… hear…” Wilson trailed off, swallowing hard and not mentioning that they hadn’t simply heard but had been firsthand witnesses to Tritter’s demise. After all, she had to know that – all of the gory details. There was no need to rehash, or even to allude.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Miranda told them. “Dr. Hadley, Detective Tritter mentioned you. He seemed to be very impressed with you.” She smiled cheekily but each doctor could tell that it was a front.
“He did?” Thirteen asked in surprised.
“Yes,” Miranda replied, “He texted me saying he’d met this amazing young doctor.” She glanced at the surprise that must have spread across each face. “He didn’t talk to many people,” she began, “But he talked to me a little. Let me in a little. Everyone has to have at least one person they can be themselves around.” She stuck her hands in her pockets and looked away for a moment. “Which isn’t to say – I don’t know, that I really knew him. I don’t know if he was someone you could…” She trailed off, then stood up a little straighter with a start. “Wait, I need to be up there.” She cut off what she was saying and made her way towards the small wooden stage that had been set up off to the far left of the field. Miranda stepped up on to the ledge and cleared her throat.
“You think they were an item?” House whispered to Wilson, who glared.
“Thank you all for coming out here today,” Miranda began. “I see a lot of old faces… and a lot of new faces, too.” There weren’t very many faces at all; besides Miranda and Candy’s group, there were a few other people who appeared to be dressed like police detectives and a small cluster of about four of five young women. “I first met Michael Tritter two years ago, when I transferred from the Camden Police Department to the Princeton Detective Bureau. I was assigned to be his partner.” Miranda looked down, swallowing audibly, before continuing. “He taught me everything that I needed to know about being a cop. He taught me to never give up. He taught me… to always know what I was doing was right, or… to make sure that I knew what I was doing was right. He wasn’t perfect. He was never perfect, but he was good. He didn’t… there weren’t a lot of people who he showed that side to, and I’m honored to have been one of them. Above all, Michael Tritter loved his family.” Miranda pointed over to Candy and the other girls. “His nieces… Vanessa, Candace, and Hayley – they can attest to that. There’s nothing he wouldn’t do for them.” She smiled sadly. “He will be deeply, deeply missed by all who knew him. I just wanted… to close by playing a song that was one of… my partner’s favorites. This is ‘December Dream’, by Klaatu.”
Miranda left the song to play as she exited the stage, approaching the group of women and smiling at them, exchanging a few words before glancing over at House with a look that mixed suspicion and gratitude.
She emerged at his side again.
“You know, I couldn’t place where I knew those women from,” she told House. “And then I did.” She narrowed her eyes. “I used to be a vice cop, you know,” she added simply before disappearing again.
“What was that all about?” Thirteen inquired.
“Nothing,” House replied. “Nothing at all.”
“You ordered hookers for Tritter’s funeral,” Thirteen continued. House didn’t reply. “Why did you order hookers for Tritter’s funeral?”
“I kind of figured the turnout would be low, so I got Eve to make some calls,” House whispered back. “No need to thank me.” Thirteen glared at him, and Wilson just shook his head.
After this followed a haze in which apparently some people spoke, and apparently some things happened, but none of the three could have recalled any of those things if they had been questioned on it. It was simply a fog. At some point they left to bring the coffin to the cemetery, and each person could lay an item, something that Tritter could, hypothetically, take with him on his journey across the river Styx or wherever he might be traversing.
Wilson and Thirteen left nothing, not even their thoughts.
House crouched down with a small packet in his hand, even as Wilson moved to stop him. He would have grabbed his friend’s shoulder until he realized the item was a small pack of nicotine gum.
He managed to stop himself from admitting he thought it’d be a thermometer.
There was no discussion, no agreement, simply a motion after that – House limping forward first, followed by Wilson and trailed by Thirteen, and each climbed in tandem on House’s motorcycle.
The diagnostician hit the gas and they thrust off into the distance, into somewhere, into anywhere but there.