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Bad Company

Aftershocks 28.1: Fresh



Aftershocks 28.1: Fresh

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TITLE: Aftershocks: A Story in Shattered Pieces
SUMMARY: Like a goddamned pregnant woman with his cravings...
RATING: R for language and themes (gen fic).
WARNINGS: Details the aftermath of events in Bad Company, a rough, violent story. Aftermath isn't always pretty; may distress some readers. Adult themes and adult language.
DISCLAIMER: Don't own 'em. Never will.
NOTES: The pieces of this shattered story are numbered. The first number signifies the number of days that have elapsed since the original event in Bad Company; the second number signifies when the fic occurs during that day.


This morning, Wilson had threatened to quit even his limited cooking if House didn't come home from work with fresh mango for his smoothies. "Worse than a goddamned pregnant woman with his cravings," House mutters as he drops the three best-looking mangoes into a bag.

He is shouldered, hard, by someone as he makes his way to the checkout counter, and he nearly loses his mangoes and his balance. His reflexive, "Hey! Cripple here!" dies on his lips as he half-turns and sees the back of the man who bumped him. The close-cropped hair and broad shoulders are unmistakable. This time House does drop the mangoes.

A six-year-old breaks away from his father and helps House gather his groceries. House wills his hands to stop shaking as he puts everything on the conveyor, and he resists the urge to scan the store. He won't give the son of a bitch the satisfaction.

When he reaches for his wallet, he feels an unfamiliar crinkle in his jacket pocket. He pulls out a folded piece of paper while the clerk retrieves his change.

It's a photocopy of a page from an appointment book. Dr. Tomlinson's appointment book, scheduling her surgeries in orthopedics. Wilson's next surgery for the crushed left hand is highlighted in cheerful pink.

House crumples the sheet into a ball and stuffs it back into his pocket. He glances quickly around the store, silently takes his change and grocery bag, and hobbles as fast as he can for the exit, ignoring the sudden sweat beading on his lower back.
  • Why didn't I pay attention to the logo - the pack of cigarettes in the gold case. Martin - I hate Martin. I really wanted to cry for House. He was so scared. And the same panic welled up in House jumped right off the page took up residence in me. My only thought, like House was is Wilson alright? Did Martin stop by the apt first?

    I really want Martin DEAD.
  • I agree. Martin needs to DIE DIE DIE!


    It's just amazing that so much terror can come through in the middle of such a trivial situation.
    • The writers are amazing. The terror is palpable - jumps right off the page into your mind, soul, body.
  • Greetings!

    In which we learn that there will be no avoiding of the Falls. I wonder how (and where) theirs will take place.

    Love, love, LOVE the way y'all have gotten reader-torture down to a fine art. I humbly bow before you... and take notes. :-D

  • From happily dysfunctional domesticity to an ominous approaching confrontation -- in six paragraphs! With mangoes!
  • The Hitchcockian mind games are so spooky. How weirdly ironic that Wilson and House find themselves in their very own film noir.... EEEK!
  • Nooooo :( Oh God... I'm really worried for both House and Wilson now...
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