After the Fire (PG)

[deelaundry]

posted to house_wilson

Title: After the Fire
Author: Dee Laundry
Rating: PG
Words: 468
Summary: After the fire, there are ashes.
Notes: Thanks to Early Readers for suggestions.

Ashes to ashes, they say, dust to dust.

What’s the difference? he wonders, as he tilts his hand and lets the particles slide across his skin, watches them conform so naturally to his lifeline, or loveline, or somesuch palm-reading jargon. He’s had his fortune told but never bothered to learn the details, instead let his mind throw color into the gypsy’s tale of long life, fortune, and three bright children who would bear his name.

It clicks then, some memory of an old language arts lesson, or maybe an afternoon alone with a book that held no lies, and he knows.

Dust is left behind by living things, by things that endure elsewhere. Ashes are the residue of things gone, things consumed.

Like ashes in my mouth. He’s never tasted ashes but he can feel them there, water sucked clean away, parching him. They’d be heavy.

Dust floats but ashes sink.

The grains still tickle his hand as they slide and fall away – so many, so many – and he closes his eyes. Every decision he’s made has been the wrong one. Time slavishly squandered and every moment of joy unearned. He can’t claim them as his due, can’t rest; there’s more to be done, all those things unaccomplished from years past.

What a relief it would be if he could lay those down and leave them by the side of the road. Maybe unencumbered he could make a right decision, take a right step. He could find a reference point on the horizon, somewhere beautiful and clean, and aim so truly towards it that even cliffs and valleys would be part of the journey instead of obstacles. Detours. Distractions.

There’s a light coating left on his hand, and he should wipe it away but he doesn’t think he can. He thinks it’ll sink in, settle, make him itchy at odd moments for the rest of his life.

An unexpected nudge to his hip throws his balance off and he teeters in his squatting position and then cants to the left. His knee hits the ground, sinking. He throws his hands out instinctively and his left palm falls squarely into a pile of soot and char. He can’t even choose what residue to keep; the particles he’d decided to pick up are mixed in with those he’d left behind, and when he washes his hand, who’s to say what will remain?

He looks up, up, up from his awkward position. The midday sun can’t penetrate that thick cap brim, and there are shadows where a face ought to be.

“What do you care that it burned?” House says. “It wasn’t like it was a home; you can get bland anonymity just as easily at the Holiday Inn down the street.”

He closes his eyes again and lets himself sit.

Comments

[lostwiginity.livejournal.com]

How the hell did you come up with that? From all the possible plotlines including H and W, I would have never come up with something like this. (Which is probably the reason why you're the writer, and I'm the consumer.)

I'm applauding your originality.

[deelaundry.livejournal.com]

It actually started with this: Every decision he’s made has been the wrong one. Time slavishly squandered and every moment of joy unearned. and then I thought of ashes, and then the rest of it all came out. (Which is to say, I don't really know how I came up with it.)

Thanks.

[jdr1184.livejournal.com]

What is interesting to me is that I had a hard time deciding who the POV was until about half way in because really the line that defines House and Wilson has blurred as House has floated in this strange state and Wilson has crumbled. Lovely imagery that packed a serious punch

Dust is left behind by living things, by things that endure elsewhere. Ashes are the residue of things gone, things consumed.

I actually yelled asshole at the screen at the end, but House is House. Depressingly wonderful fic, my dear.

[deelaundry.livejournal.com]

House is irritatingly blunt at the end, but he's not wrong. Wilson needs to make a home and a life for himself and quit living temporarily. (Or so I think.)

Thanks!

[jdr1184.livejournal.com]

So very true. Wilson certainly needs some sort of change. I forgot to mention earlier that Wilson goes to a fortune teller sounds like a really interesting fic all by its self.

[deelaundry.livejournal.com]

That would be a great fic. I was thinking here that it was when Wilson was a teenager or college student, and that he went with a bunch of friends as a lark. But him going as an adult would be cool, too.

[layne67.livejournal.com]

Exquisite. As always.

I'm so *happy* when House made his appearance. I thought this was going to be a death fic.

Great, great job.

Happy New Year, Dee!

[fry-addict.livejournal.com]

*agree with you*
I was so afraid that this would be a deathfic. I have to admit that I more or less just browsed the story at first, just to be sure they'll both live, and then had to read it again to understand what had happened there :D

[layne67.livejournal.com]

I don't mind deathfic actually, esp when it's well-written. But I need a warning first, to ready myself and all that :)

[deelaundry.livejournal.com]

Sorry for being so sneaky there. I wanted readers to feel the same sort of disquiet and anxiety Wilson feels. Thanks for sticking with it!

[deelaundry.livejournal.com]

Happy New Year to you, Layne! Wilson needs more stability in his life... maybe moving in with House permanently would do the trick! (A gal can dream...) Thanks.

[shutterbug12.livejournal.com]

This was just awesome. Such an original subject to address, and such a unique way. And I like that you didn't reveal what was burned until the end. The prose alone here was beautiful.

Dust is left behind by living things, by things that endure elsewhere. Ashes are the residue of things gone, things consumed. Wow, I never took the time to think about that, but it's very insightful. Definitely my favorite bit. *goes off to ponder*

[deelaundry.livejournal.com]

I hadn't thought about that comparison either, until the minute I wrote it. It's not true in every instance (for example, you can pulverize a block of stone until all that's left is dust) but close enough for forlorn Wilson's purposes.

Thanks!

[blackmare.livejournal.com]

I'll forgive House; the fact that he's there at all means something, no matter what he says.

This really is beautiful, Dee. Meming it so I can go back to it again.

[deelaundry.livejournal.com]

It's a case of "cruel to be kind" in House's statement. House thinks it's ridiculous to mourn something so impersonal, and he wants Wilson to make himself a life instead of futzing around. Thanks.

[sodiumbisulfite.livejournal.com]

I have to tell you, that while I don't comment all the time, I love everything you've ever written. I always look forward to your next post! And this was nothing short of incredible. Beautiful, sad and poetic. <3

[deelaundry.livejournal.com]

Aw, thank you so much! *blushing*

[vitawash24.livejournal.com]

Great imagery, and I like the way House is Wilson's snap back to reality there at the end. But the best thing really, is that feeling that Wilson is trapped here, dragged down by this temporary life - it still has a hold on him, even when the elements have wiped it away.

[deelaundry.livejournal.com]

That was exactly my thought, that Wilson feels caught and unsure of himself. He's not seeing this as an opportunity to start fresh, the way some would. Thanks.

[pwcorgigirl.livejournal.com]

Ah, you completely had me fooled with this until House turned up. :)

I love this line: He could find a reference point on the horizon, somewhere beautiful and clean, and aim so truly towards it that even cliffs and valleys would be part of the journey instead of obstacles. Wilson so often looks like he's carrying the weight of the world, and his wish for an unencumbered life really hits home.

[deelaundry.livejournal.com]

Wouldn't that be nice, to be so sure of your ultimate goal that you could keep going with confidence, no matter what happened?

I think the hardest thing is to carry not only today's troubles with you, but yesterday's as well.

I'm hoping the antidepressants are helping Wilson but he got banged around pretty hard last year, and as long as he stays in the hotel, I'm convinced he won't be able to really start to feel whole.

[hi-falootin.livejournal.com]

He’s had his fortune told but never bothered to learn the details, instead let his mind throw color into the gypsy’s tale of long life, fortune, and three bright children who would bear his name.

Ouch. I liked this a lot, even if I couldn't quite figure it out until the end

[deelaundry.livejournal.com]

It was meant to be a little elusive. Hope that didn't jar too much. Thanks! (PS. Beautiful icon!)

[(Anonymous)]

...every moment of joy unearned. He can’t claim them as his due, can’t rest; there’s more to be done, all those things unaccomplished from years past.
That had me convinced it was from House's POV. I think House believes all the people who tell him that, other than his diagnostic ability, he's a worthless human being. (Between Wilson's depression and House's self-loathing, they really are a pair, aren't they?)

The imagery was incredible.

[poeia.livejournal.com]

Ooops. That was me -- it never occurs to me to check if I've been logged off.

[deelaundry.livejournal.com]

I think House believes all the people who tell him that, other than his diagnostic ability, he's a worthless human being.

You're on to something there, definitely. The one way that passage is not House, though, is in a sense of guilt in not getting more done. As pointed out in Half-Wit, House doesn't have ambition per se. He's relentless in pursuit of a common, short-term goal, but long-term he doesn't have a plan.

He clings to mysteries unsolved (a la Esther) but not incomplete work, is my opinion.

Probably not explaining myself well, here. Sorry.

Thanks!

[phinnia.livejournal.com]

That's ... beautiful. Almost overwhelmingly so.
Wow.

[deelaundry.livejournal.com]

Thanks. It gripped me and wanted to be written.

[angelcat2865.livejournal.com]

Lovely imagery. Great job.

[deelaundry.livejournal.com]

Thanks!

[deelaundry.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much. This was a departure for me (I'm normally more about plot and dialogue) so it means a lot that it affected you.