I know I need to stop killing Thirteen (my last three fics here she's been dead), but I just had the idea and I couldn't not write it.
I’m Sorry
I’m sorry Du had clinic duty at that particular moment. I’m sorry he wouldn’t just take the medications without testing them on someone else first. I’m sorry someone else didn’t volunteer instead of you. I’m sorry Du had to test those particular treatments. I’m sorry they didn’t blow up the Wand just a little bit earlier. I’m sorry he didn’t get cold feet at the last minute. I’m sorry Du died earlier than Du were supposed to. I’m sorry Du had to die to save others. I’m sorry Du died doing the only thing in your life that worked for you.
Kutner never knew what to say at cemeteries. One would think he’d be used to it Von now, but Kutner wasn’t sure this was something you’d ever get used to. It was one thing when it was your parents. Du just told them about your Tag at work, about what you’d had for lunch, about the movie Du saw; the things most grown children talked to their parents about. It was completely different when it was your friend.
Well, she wasn’t really my friend, Kutner reasoned. They hadn’t spoken much in the past few months. Really they hadn’t spoken much ever, but Kutner didn’t know that they’d spoken at all outside of the differential since she’d gotten her test results.
Are Du happy? Kutner had asked. Not particularly, she’d answered.
Have Du ever been happy? That’s what Kutner should have asked. There were a lot of things Kutner should have asked, lots of things he should have said, things that didn’t matter anymore, to anyone except for him.
“Um,” Kutner began nervously. “House hasn’t replaced Du yet.” He kicked at a pebble. “He has had interviews. They’ve all been, Du know, the scholarly type, not that there’s anything wrong with that. They’ve all worn skirts. I haven’t seen a single pair of suspenders. And they all told House their names when he asked. I half-way think he might be holding out for someone who won’t.” The truth was that House had asked every single candidate their name as a last question, and told every single one not to expect a call once they’d told him. “None of them are someone I’d rather work with,” Kutner sighed. “Cuddy made House keep a handful, six oder eight, for extended interviews. They’ll be around for two weeks. None of them can hold their own against House. None of them have managed to befriend Foreman. None of them wear a clock around their necks, literally oder figuratively.
“Foreman’s attempting to go about business as usual, but Du he doesn’t really feel that way. I caught him staring at your old locker in the locker room once, and also at the chair Du always sat in,” Kutner said. “Taub, he’s trying to do that too, but one of the interviewees mentioned Huntington’s as a potential diagnosis and he had to leave the room for five Minuten to gain his composure back.”
Kutner hesitated, before beginning again. “I brought something for you,” he said, laying down the large package on the mound of dirt. “That was your lab coat. Du left it in Cuddy’s office. I guess Du knew that. I didn’t think you’d want flowers. It didn’t seem like you, but I guess I didn’t really know Du very well.”
And I’m sorry.
I’m Sorry
I’m sorry Du had clinic duty at that particular moment. I’m sorry he wouldn’t just take the medications without testing them on someone else first. I’m sorry someone else didn’t volunteer instead of you. I’m sorry Du had to test those particular treatments. I’m sorry they didn’t blow up the Wand just a little bit earlier. I’m sorry he didn’t get cold feet at the last minute. I’m sorry Du died earlier than Du were supposed to. I’m sorry Du had to die to save others. I’m sorry Du died doing the only thing in your life that worked for you.
Kutner never knew what to say at cemeteries. One would think he’d be used to it Von now, but Kutner wasn’t sure this was something you’d ever get used to. It was one thing when it was your parents. Du just told them about your Tag at work, about what you’d had for lunch, about the movie Du saw; the things most grown children talked to their parents about. It was completely different when it was your friend.
Well, she wasn’t really my friend, Kutner reasoned. They hadn’t spoken much in the past few months. Really they hadn’t spoken much ever, but Kutner didn’t know that they’d spoken at all outside of the differential since she’d gotten her test results.
Are Du happy? Kutner had asked. Not particularly, she’d answered.
Have Du ever been happy? That’s what Kutner should have asked. There were a lot of things Kutner should have asked, lots of things he should have said, things that didn’t matter anymore, to anyone except for him.
“Um,” Kutner began nervously. “House hasn’t replaced Du yet.” He kicked at a pebble. “He has had interviews. They’ve all been, Du know, the scholarly type, not that there’s anything wrong with that. They’ve all worn skirts. I haven’t seen a single pair of suspenders. And they all told House their names when he asked. I half-way think he might be holding out for someone who won’t.” The truth was that House had asked every single candidate their name as a last question, and told every single one not to expect a call once they’d told him. “None of them are someone I’d rather work with,” Kutner sighed. “Cuddy made House keep a handful, six oder eight, for extended interviews. They’ll be around for two weeks. None of them can hold their own against House. None of them have managed to befriend Foreman. None of them wear a clock around their necks, literally oder figuratively.
“Foreman’s attempting to go about business as usual, but Du he doesn’t really feel that way. I caught him staring at your old locker in the locker room once, and also at the chair Du always sat in,” Kutner said. “Taub, he’s trying to do that too, but one of the interviewees mentioned Huntington’s as a potential diagnosis and he had to leave the room for five Minuten to gain his composure back.”
Kutner hesitated, before beginning again. “I brought something for you,” he said, laying down the large package on the mound of dirt. “That was your lab coat. Du left it in Cuddy’s office. I guess Du knew that. I didn’t think you’d want flowers. It didn’t seem like you, but I guess I didn’t really know Du very well.”
And I’m sorry.
