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housebigbangmod) wrote in
house_bigbang2009-03-25 09:32 pm
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[round two] and all our little agonies, by rosenskimmer
Title: and all our little agonies
Author:
rosenskimmer
Pairing: Gen: House, team, Wilson, Cuddy.
Rating: PG
Length: 24 900 words
Spoilers: Through season 3.
Summary: When two new, unwanted patients throw his world into disarray, House questions his own medical ability. As the ketamine treatment for his thigh fails, House's friends begin to desert him.
Excerpt:
And All Our Little Agonies by
rosenskimmer is a rather melancholy story that takes place in season three of House, with a large AU twist to it. After the ketamine treatment, House is confronted with two medical cases that shun him out of his comfort zone, both equally as baffling as each other. While struggling to piece the puzzles of the cases together, the ketamine treatment begins failing and his pain slowly but surely returns, and when the people closest to him start deserting him he finds unexpected comfort in one of his patients. With well-rounded focus on all the characters and some sharp, witty dialogue, And All Our Little Agonies is an enjoyable read, especially for those who are interested in seeing an AU take on season three.

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Author:
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Pairing: Gen: House, team, Wilson, Cuddy.
Rating: PG
Length: 24 900 words
Spoilers: Through season 3.
Summary: When two new, unwanted patients throw his world into disarray, House questions his own medical ability. As the ketamine treatment for his thigh fails, House's friends begin to desert him.
Excerpt:
House had forgotten how easy it was to get used to pain, to act as if something was normal, even if it wasn't. He'd woken up over an hour ago, pain clawing at his thigh like any other day. But the vicodin bottle which stood sentinel on his desk, a bastion against all his agonies, big and small, had nothing but air underneath its plastic helmet.
He had to stare at the bottle, had to remember what it could do for him. Because, although his vicodin was missing in action, he knew exactly where a squadron of relief could be found. The little bottles of liquid underneath his bed, tucked in next to a small pile of syringes and a line of surgical tubing; the little army was calling to him, a siren song of pleasure and freedom.
If the vicodin sought to protect House, to bolster his confidence by freeing him of pain, the morphine obliterated it. But it obliterated everything, and he needed his wits today, couldn't stay abed dreaming in Technicolor while his morphine regiment sang him to sleep.
So, he got up.
And All Our Little Agonies by
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