Sestina!fic #4, "The Truth in Dreams"

[bironic]

Others:
- Sestina #1: House post-infarction
- Sestina #2: "A Typical Day in Diagnostics"
- Sestina #3: "Breaking the Cycle"



Title: The Truth in Dreams
Character: Gregory House, with House/Wilson undertones
Rating: PG
Word Count: 362
Prompts: truth (from daasgrrl), Vicodin, Wilson, dreams, leg, puzzles
Spoilers: Vague for "Meaning" and "Cane and Able"
A/N: This ended up veering far away from what I intended. I'm a little sorry I substituted "dreams" for a previous prompt; it...cheapens the rest of the words. ETA: Have been overruled on that point. Thanks, guys. *love*


Insomniac, he'll stare at the ceiling pondering truth
Or watch TV or read or go for a ride or call Wilson.
Or he'll lie half-conscious after his bedtime Vicodin,
His mind working, working, solving intricate puzzles
He forgets by morning. Most nights, though, his leg
Allows him a few hours of solid sleep. And he dreams.

Some nights, of course, he dreams
That nothing happened to his leg
And he's running by the river with Wilson,
Who never had to write the scrips for Vicodin
Or convince Cuddy to hide the truth
To save House from his own puzzles.

Vibrant and whole, he doesn't need puzzles
Until he wakes and remembers the truth.
There are nightmares, too—terrifying dreams
Where he can't make sense of anything or his leg's
Gone or he's paralyzed and sometimes Wilson
Is there, laughing, refusing to give him Vicodin.

If he takes an extra Vicodin
Before going to sleep, his dreams
Warp and swirl like a face or a leg
In a fun-house mirror. Senses blend: He tastes truth,
Sees pain, smells music, hears love, feels puzzles.
No logic. No boundaries. He is Chase is Stacy is Wilson.

By day he doesn't talk about any of it, not even with Wilson,
Who'd rather lecture him on his obsession with puzzles,
His recent quest for meaning and his tireless hunt for truth.
Besides, Wilson would only play shrink and use his dreams
To tell him why he's miserable and alone and addicted to Vicodin
And suffering more pain than he can blame on his leg.

Tonight he wakes slowly to distant sirens, a tingling leg
And damp sheets. As he gropes in the dark for his Vicodin,
The visions slip away before the pieces of the puzzle
Fit together—something about heat, and need, and Wilson,
And a sense of pure contentment possible only in dreams.
He downs a pill, hoping to prolong that peace but knowing the truth.

Four a.m. Too late, too early. He rubs his leg and waits for the Vicodin
To kick in. Pushing aside the puzzle of his friendship with Wilson,
He tries not to admit that buried truths will surface in dreams.



* * *


x-posting to housefic and house_wilson.

Thoughts very welcome.

Comments

[bironic.livejournal.com]

My goodness -- thank you. Really, thank you. I do take it as a compliment not only that you love it so much but also that you would take the time to write such a detailed comment with suggestions for improvement. I really appreciate it. I also agree with most of your ideas. Changing "in which" to "where" will shorten the line to match the others in the stanza, for instance, and if I replace "utter" with "pure" it will begin the alliteration earlier. I'm also happy that you've picked up on so much, including the fact that, yes, House is in desperate denial about far more than Wilson.

I do have a couple of questions for you, if you don't mind. Your comment about "his" Vicodin in the third stanza -- do you mean that "his" suggests a lack of control or the removal of "his" will suggest it? And about "And suffering more pain than can be attributed to his leg" -- I did hesitate over such formal phrasing, but I do want to end on "leg," so what would you think of "...than he can blame on his leg"?

It's funny, actually, what you've said about how this one seems as if it were easy to write while the last two appear to have taken more effort, because this one and "Breaking the Cycle" were both terribly tricky, while "A Typical Day" flowed fairly easily. Of course, the real accomplishment is to write a poem that reads like a breeze no matter how difficult it was to craft, so to hear that that was the case for you for this one is very satisfying (and also pleasantly surprising, since I had very little confidence in it when I posted it).

A long reply to your delightfully detailed feedback. I'm afraid I can't sanction you worshipping at my altar because then I'd be calling myself a god, but I do most eagerly grant you permission to come by and comment whenever you like.

P.S. You may have seen me tell stephantom above, but the last poem currently in progress is an HP one rather than House. Judging by your icon, though, I don't think this will be a problem for you. :)

[celebriangel.livejournal.com]

I was going for the removal of 'his' - if the Vicodin is 'his' then Wilson's just being annoying, keeping him from getting what's rightfully his. Although this is the way House seems to feel, the truth about addiction is that you do not own the drug; the drug owns you, and I think just by removing this little word you could suggest some of this. House might think of the Vicodin as being rightfully his but deep down he must know that he is in its control.

My promblem with 'that can be attributed to his leg' was more that there are too many syllables and it interrupts the flow a little. I like the idea of ending on 'leg', and your solution is perfect.

It's interesting you should say that this poem was difficult. What I love about it is the way you pack so many ideas and emotions into a short space, but sa what you want to say clearly and neatly with a light, flowing touch. It's not just about House being in denial about loving Wilson - there's so much morethat you suggest and hint at and reading the poem is very satisfying because I could spend hours analysing it. But Wilson is in every verse and so it seems like although it's not all about Wilson, these things are related to him in someway - the vicodin and his leg and Wilson are all tied up in his thoughts and I love that.

Ack. You could have another megamegapost about all the things that you've implied and why it's just so canon and so fantastic. I honestly think this is the best poem you've written, even though I love the first. So have confidence!

FInally, do you mind if I friend your journal so I can find your next poepms/fics/etc? You seem like an interesting person to talk to and I do love me a good debate.

[bironic.livejournal.com]

"Refusing him Vicodin" didn't have enough syllables for my satisfaction, so I've made it "refusing to give him Vicodin." It sounds better in my head and it allows for both interpretations of House's relationship with the drugs.

reading the poem is very satisfying because I could spend hours analysing it.

Now that is a wonderful thing to hear. Yay. (She said, intelligently.)

By all means, friend away. Going by what you've said here, I think it would be lovely to have you on board to take a look at stories before they get posted elsewhere and to chat with on other topics. If you poke around my journal, you'll see the sort of stuff I usually post about. I should warn you, though, that in January I'm going to be posting much more than usual -- once a day at least -- for a month-long communal memory project (just described in a post this morning). So I'd understand if you wanted to hold off until February. Either way, welcome!