The Badge of a Marine
click, ping…click, ping…click, ping…click, ping…click, ping…
House ran his thumb over the clasp of the Marine pin, resting it in his right hand. He flicked
the clasp open, and pushed it closed. His eyes were affixed on the closed blinds of his
office, not really looking at anything in particular. …click, ping…click, ping…
He was not there, in a sense, but lost in the analysis of his current situation. His mind was
only aware of the continuous click of his thumb hitting the clasp, followed by the ping of
metal hitting the plastic badge. ping…click, ping…click
For many the decision faced by Dr. Gregory House would be inexistent. They would be
too caught up in their emotional state to even consider questioning a situation similar to
the one thrust upon the doctor. click, ping…click
But how could House feel the pain of loss for a man who was never there for him?
It was not as if he did not know the pain loss, he was far too familiar with it. …click, ping…click
The death of his father was certainly not a loss. ping…
