This is a vague protest I wrote without really thinking about it, about the overload of angst and cliché in the House section of FF. Then again, I suppose the show's turning into a soap opera, so – whatever.
If you squint, this makes sense. Bear with me. It does actually go somewhere, because I've written the entire plan and quite a few of the chapters. Oh, yeah, the Beta's finally figured out what those 'add chapter' buttons do.
Oh, yeah, there's a few references to fics in here. Really, really obscure references. Don't worry about it, it's just me being a twit, but full marks if you see any of 'em.
I don't accept responsibility for people thinking I own House because I haven't denied it here and stalking me.
House woke up with an ache not only in his leg, but in his head. For a moment, he knew this morning had happened before. He shook his head, rubbed his forehead viciously, and tried to remember the exact logistics of déjà vu. It had something to do with two – thingies – that did something simultaneously... god, he was tired. It didn't help much that he'd only gotten to bed roughly two hours ago, and that much sleep was worse than none at all. That was why his head hurt, and why his leg felt like someone had been jumping on it. It'd go away once he was more awake.
The headache, however, persisted, and even intensified when he took a few Vicodin to chase away the perpetual ache in his leg. It'd go away soon. Feeling thoroughly miserable, he headed off for work in a bad mood.
As he went, glowering at a small child as he got into his car, he could have sworn the headache was getting stronger.
Yeah, well, um, three paragraphs then. I'll post the next chapter soonish.