Citrixacid
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Summary
'House scoffed, looking away. His shoulders were raised, the muscles rigid. Everything about him screamed defensive. Wilson stood, something other than the Chinese food sinking to the bottom of his stomach and sitting there like a rock. From the way House was deflecting, denying, avoiding... whatever he told this girl, whatever he revealed, had to have been true. Something that he had not and would never tell Wilson under normal circumstances. Something he would never tell anyone. If the pieces Wilson was putting together were the right ones — and he hoped to God they weren't — then he had bigger issues than House's ability to empathize with patients.
"House," Wilson began, his voice lowered with trepidation as if he were approaching a frightened animal. "Please tell me you couldn't tell her what I think you told her."'
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Or: Wilson asks House to tell him the unspeakable.
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It’s definitely the damn organ that starts it. Ends it. Whatever it is.
Maybe this is just what happens if you need Wilson hard enough. He inevitably ends up offering you part of his liver or a hand job.
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When Phoenix comes over for dinner one night, he tells Kristoph about Dahlia
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At the window was the brightest bird she’d ever seen. Honestly, it was unlike any bird she knows; thin neck, flowing wing and tail feathers, looking almost like a peacock’s tail, or a cape flowing behind it. Long, wire-thin feathers sprouting from the back of it’s spiky-shaped head, ending with tufts of blue. It had a bright, almost eye-searing mixture of orange and blue coloring, one she could feasibly say reminded her of a parrot, if they came in that color. And more than anything, it looked incredibly nervous and sort of terrified, expressions she’s never seen on an animal before.
Or; Phoenix dies. But then he lives!
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Summary
“‘I want you to think back for me, to the start of all this. When was it? The raid? The training camp? USJ?’ He spoke firmly, but openly. He leaned forward slightly in his seat in an attempt to engage Izuku in the conversation.
Izuku wasn’t looking at Aizawa, though. He wasn’t looking at anything.
When did it start? Izuku thought.
That was a really good question.”
Or, in which Izuku has been losing time.