Sick!fic repost
Title: Abyssinia, Kutner
Author:
xslash_foreverx
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 455
Summary: "Perhaps that’s why he always liked Hawkeye so much. They were a lot alike, he thought...Hawkeye had been so tortured. They were exactly alike then..."
Warnings: None
Authors Note(s):
------
When did it come to this? Just when had life gotten this miserable? He’d been fine for nearly two years now. He even managed to hold it together when he’d been fired for the first time, when Cole betrayed him, when Amber died, when his dog died. What changed so quickly? Why was he suddenly so goddamn miserable that he was holding this gun in his hands like a lover? Tears rolled down his cheeks.
He supposed he’d always been miserable, ever since he was six. Maybe that’s why he always liked M*A*S*H so much. He never saw the original comedic episodes with Trapper John until much later. He grew up on the headier stuff of the BJ-Potter-Charles seasons. Perhaps that’s why he always liked Hawkeye so much. They were a lot alike, he thought. Except Hawk only lost his mother… and she’d been sick. Then there was the series finale. Hawkeye had been so tortured. They were exactly alike then, cracking jokes just so they wouldn’t crack themselves. Eventually, Hawkeye did crack. Just like he was doing now. A small sob escaped his lips.
He cast a glance toward the cell phone lying on the bedside table. He wanted so desperately for it to ring, for someone to care enough to ask him where he was. He watched it for hours, and it never rang. He sobbed openly, breaking down pitifully and wishing someone, anyone, would magically appear and tell him he was loved and appreciated and important. He never got that feeling from anyone.
As he put the gun to his temple he thought of everyone. Thirteen was smiling because Foreman was hugging her and smiling. Taub was smiling and treating a smiling patient. Cuddy was smiling as she cooed at baby Rachel, who was smiling toothlessly. House and Wilson
were smiling at each other and eating lunch. There was no room for him. His finger twitched as one last sob escaped.
Author:
xslash_foreverx
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 455
Summary: "Perhaps that’s why he always liked Hawkeye so much. They were a lot alike, he thought...Hawkeye had been so tortured. They were exactly alike then..."
Warnings: None
Authors Note(s):
------
When did it come to this? Just when had life gotten this miserable? He’d been fine for nearly two years now. He even managed to hold it together when he’d been fired for the first time, when Cole betrayed him, when Amber died, when his dog died. What changed so quickly? Why was he suddenly so goddamn miserable that he was holding this gun in his hands like a lover? Tears rolled down his cheeks.
He supposed he’d always been miserable, ever since he was six. Maybe that’s why he always liked M*A*S*H so much. He never saw the original comedic episodes with Trapper John until much later. He grew up on the headier stuff of the BJ-Potter-Charles seasons. Perhaps that’s why he always liked Hawkeye so much. They were a lot alike, he thought. Except Hawk only lost his mother… and she’d been sick. Then there was the series finale. Hawkeye had been so tortured. They were exactly alike then, cracking jokes just so they wouldn’t crack themselves. Eventually, Hawkeye did crack. Just like he was doing now. A small sob escaped his lips.
He cast a glance toward the cell phone lying on the bedside table. He wanted so desperately for it to ring, for someone to care enough to ask him where he was. He watched it for hours, and it never rang. He sobbed openly, breaking down pitifully and wishing someone, anyone, would magically appear and tell him he was loved and appreciated and important. He never got that feeling from anyone.
As he put the gun to his temple he thought of everyone. Thirteen was smiling because Foreman was hugging her and smiling. Taub was smiling and treating a smiling patient. Cuddy was smiling as she cooed at baby Rachel, who was smiling toothlessly. House and Wilson
were smiling at each other and eating lunch. There was no room for him. His finger twitched as one last sob escaped.