Pay Your Respects
House toyed with his red and gray ball as he sat in his office. His newest ducklings, now reduced to two, had gone home after Kutner's funeral, but House had returned to the hospital, memories trying their hardest to flood his mind. Stubbornly, House refused to let them occupy his mind. He didn't want to be sentimental, but despite that, House was still human. Even if he didn't want to be. Fresh tears remained encased in House's sky-colored eyes, and the ball, worn and torn, jumped back and forth between his hands as House slowly contemplated Kutner's suicide. The picture of a miserable looking Kutner, fresh from a camera, lay on House's desk. It was something House believed to have been Kutner's final 'message' to them, his friends and colleagues.
The ball, missing House's left hand tumbled to the floor with a low thump, but House paid it no mind, and didn't even bother collecting it from the floor. His attention remained fixated on the picture in front of him, and House tried desperately to find the missing piece. The same question replayed in his mind, What did I miss? Over and over again. It was pointless. Kutner's death wasn't murder. It was suicide. Kutner didn't even have a dog, House thought angrily to himself, clenching his fists, He never misses a day of work! If I had sent Foreman and Thirteen over sooner… maybe Kutner would still be alive. Idiot! Why did he have to go and kill himself! A faded and strained smile appeared on House's face and a hint of humor flooded his thoughts, I lost my 'professional' defibrallist.
Quickly, that smile replaced itself with a saddened and scornful frown. House didn't know why bad things always happened to him. Everything happy, or remotely pleasant in his life ended with death, sickness, unhappiness or suicide. Now, he had lost three of his greatest ducklings. Chase and Cameron because he was too stubborn to not tell Foreman he wanted him to stay, and now Kutner, because he was too much of an idiot to put together the damn puzzle, and the hints that Kutner was going to do what he did. The puzzle, House thought with contempt, it's always about the puzzle. That is a stronger drug than Vicodin for me, and I didn't even jump to that puzzle when I had the chance. Why? Was it because Taub is more interesting than Kutner? Is it my fault he's dead? No. No it isn't! It's that stupid moron who came here for two years then killed himself!
House reached for the cane that rested on the armrest of his chair. Gripping it, he stood up, took the orange vial of Vicodin from his coat pocket and downed two of the pills. An angry furrow overlapping his already permanent one. He snatched the photo of Kutner from his desk and shoved it in his pocket. He was going home, and he going to drink himself into a stupor, and there wasn't anything anybody could do about it.
Hand on the handle of his office, House dipped his head and silently paid his respects, a rare thing for House to do for anybody.
Goodbye, Kutner.
I have to admit, when I watched yesterday's episode, I was absolutely dumbfounded. I didn't expect Kutner to die AT ALL! And I really did cry at the end of the episode, because Kutner was my favorite duckling on the show. House of course being my favorite. :-D Anyway, to pay my own tribute to the growing collection of Kutner fics, I give you this, a oneshot. If you liked this, expect a full-blown story resulting from the events of Simple Explanation soon! Only that story goes very far into a made-up part of House's biography!