house_bigbang | [round two] Artist: cryptictac

Title: Untitled
Subject: Dreams
Pairing/Rating: Gen, G
Medium: Cover art
Artist:

cryptictac

Title: In My Darkest Dreams
Authors:

nemesishamartia and

benjimmy
Pairing: House/Wilson
Rating: NC-17 (dark themes)
Length: 41 400 words
Spoilers: Throughout season four. Particularly '97 Seconds and 'House's Head/ Wilson’s Heart.' Diverts from canon after the finale.
Summary: A tour through House's mind as he deals with the psychological fallout from Wilson's actions and the events occurring throughout season four.
Excerpt:

For three days, he can't sleep. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees Amber, lying in her casket, heavily made-up to hide the facial contusions, or how she looked at the moment of impact in the bus crash, hair haloed around her head, neck snapping forward, eyes wide with panic and confusion. Or he sees Wilson's cold glare, telling him in no uncertain terms that he is unwanted. Sometimes the image morphs into a sickening combination of the two that makes him want to tear his eyes out of his head, or vomit, or scream at the top of his lungs that nothing is as unfair as this.

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Title: Untitled
Subject: Trailer for Woodwinds
Pairing/Rating: Gen, G
Medium: Vid
Artist:

cryptictac

Download the trailer here: Right-click save-as.

Title: Woodwinds
Author:

zulu
Pairing: House/Wilson (Wilson/Wendy, House/Foreman)
Rating: NC-17
Length: 39 000 words
Spoilers: Through season three.
Summary: Wilson doesn't end relationships; he launches himself headfirst into something even more disastrous instead.
Excerpt:

"My leg hurt," House says.

Wilson feels like House has shoved him out onto a tightrope, blindfolded. The wind pushes dead leaves along the rain gutters outside. He remembers the last time he asked House for anything--the last time he went to House for comfort. He was drunk, and lonely, after seeing the divorce papers all neatly written out. Wilson kissed House.

House had kissed him back. Wilson never imagined that House might turn him away. He remembers the exact pressure of House's lips, the soft dryness, and then the more desperate need that followed, in a slick twine of tongues. He remembers House's breath in his ear as he pulled away. I'd be flattered if I thought you meant it.

How many times, this summer, has Wilson held back from telling House that he's going to kill himself on his skateboard? To take it easy with the running, just in case? House would have shouted him down if Wilson had breathed a single word of caution while House felt good. Now he thinks one cramp means the pain is coming back, when it's probably nothing more than a little soreness, no more than House deserves for pretending he's still a teenager.

"The surgery worked, House," Wilson says, avoiding what he wants to say. "You're fine."

House nods, as if he hadn't expected anything else from Wilson. He walks out of Wilson's office without a word, closing the door too softly behind him. Wilson sighs and rubs his forehead, looking back at his desk, and the piles of undisturbed work. The ketamine treatment worked. House is fine. He's almost certain of it.

Wilson has to believe that House is happy, after all.

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