| |
Blood Of Love
by Topaz Eyes
Warning: Deals with a very sensitive topic for some. Spoilers for 2 x 23, "Who's Your Daddy?" and 3 x 09, "Finding Judas."
A/N: This is my first attempt at writing a sestina. The words I chose were fern, blood, stone, water, starve, and kiss. I worked backwards in the sense that the tercet came first. I also cheated with tenses as needed. The title is from a quote in The Journals of Sylvia Plath.
~~~~~
Cuddy knows that not all life begins with a kiss.
Like today: her legs are spread like a fern
Parted in the forest, and she dreams of water
Falling as she lies on the table, as still as a stone
While the technician inserts the needle; not to draw blood
But rather her eggs, ready for harvest. Please don't starve
My womb this time is her silent plea; her arms have starved
Too long as it is, for not having a child of her own to kiss.
She's followed everything faithfully, tracked her blood
And took her injections, though House was not quite as gentle as a fern
With the needle. (It's impossible to be like stone
Around him when his words erode like running water.)
The technician gives Cuddy a glass of water
When she wakes from sedation but her brain is already starving
For news: How many? How were they? It's never carved in stone
From cycle to cycle. She dresses quickly, ignoring a sharp kiss
Of pain from her belly. Leaving the suite, she walks down the fern-
Colored halls of the gynecology wing, back to her office to wait. Her blood
Pounding, her finger itches to call the lab. The last two times, her blood
Betrayed her, so she clings to this chance, her last lifeline in deep water.
Cuddy sits working and waiting, her head bowed, her hair brushing fern-
Soft against her face. Staying by the phone, she lets herself starve
Until she hears the results--twelve eggs. A dozen little chances. She cries with relief and kisses
The receiver; when she leaves for the night, she's no longer feeling as heavy as stone.
Five more days pass, and Cuddy's feeling as if she's frozen in stone.
She works, spars with House, and attends committee meetings, but neither her blood
Nor her heart is in it. Instead she clutches her hope like a last goodbye kiss
Until the fifth day, back on the table, when she thinks of floating on water
As the best three embryos are inserted. After, she willfully tries to starve
Her fear while waiting again, folding her thoughts inward like fronds on a fern.
The weeks pass, and now Cuddy's whole body trembles, a fern
Blowing in the breeze; that part of her heart, that she long set into stone,
Cracks and crumbles to pieces. Her soul no longer has to starve
With longing--at long last positive, she lets joy flow through her blood
As she clutches the test strip, her eyes brimming with water.
Finally--at last--perhaps she can dream now, of plump cheeks to kiss.
So Cuddy nurtures her faith, a tender fern, until the passing of blood;
When--stunned and alone--her hope sinks like a stone in still water,
And she wonders if her lips will now starve from lack of being kissed.
Please post a comment on this story.
Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
|
|
|