Haha what if House and Wilson never met during that convention. Wilson ends up working in princeton general. House still at ppth solving cases but always bored without one.
And Wilson ends up publishing that article about euthanizing patients. House being House publishes and article rebuking every point Wilson wrote just to annoy a stranger. (House does agree with him, but he admires the guts it took to publish something like that)
They go back and forth, go through each other's old researches and start arguing against each other. They're basically flirting thru papers atp. But whenever confronted, each say they hate the other.
A medical convention happens later, and they plan to debate each other there, but since its a last-minute call, the only free panel is at the end of the week long convention. House packs his good, and only, suit; no, he doesn't wanna look good in front of Dr Wilson. He just,, needs to be professional.
When Wilson is getting out of his hotel room to go see some panels, he's stopped by three young doctors, assumes they're here to ask him questions, but no. Apparently, they're Dr Houses fellows and want him to play a prank on House, and how can he refuse?
They want Wilson to meet him at the bar and act all friendly, then reveal his name as he's leaving. Wilson agrees immediately. What's the harm in making his opponent confused?
As Wilson approaches Dr. House in the bar, he's a little scared, but a couple of drinks will send his anxiety away. He orders a drink, and it already seems that House is a couple drinks in any way. Oh, this will be easy.
"Hey, you're doctor House, aren't you?" Wilson said as he sat in the stool next to House
"One and only, and which med student are you?"
"I'm- what," he can't be serious, "I don't look That young do I?"
"it's compliment, sweetheart." slurred House
"Oh sweetheart already? aren't you moving a little too fast? " Wilson teased as he got closer to House.
"No ring on my finger, I can do whatever I want." God he was even more obnoxious in real life, Wilson needed to shut him up.
"well I'm recently divorced for sleeping with my nurses, so I'm," Wilson struggled to get the word out without making it seem he was free to House to take, like that would really be a downside, "avaliable."
"Available, are we now?" House grinned, he got closer to Wilson, intoxicated breaths mixing with each other.
Wilson should really move his head back, but he moves forward to whisper into Houses' ear a sultry affirmation.
House grabs his hips and leads them into his room.
None of Houses papers showed this side of him. The papers can't capture his blue eyes, his dimples, his stubble, his greying hair. Wilson needs a taste of House all night. He can't tell him he's his Dr. Wilson of the great oncology research papers. He'll be kicked out of the room without even getting a taste of the handsome cripple behind the paper.
Wilson will use the excuse of alcohol in the morning, but he barely touched his drink. House, on the other hand, was a tall drink he drank all night.
Wilson will just tell him his name by the end of the week. How hard can it be?
also known as papers AU #1! this is the first thing i ever wrote for the hadestown fandom and it will always be very near and dear to my heart. if you’re new here, my papers AUs are several different scenarios that i imagine could happen after the workers leave in “papers,” before “if it’s true.” enjoy!
-----
persephone liked to take walks on earth. she enjoyed seeing all of the fruits of the mortals’ labor, all in reverence to her. the bright colors, the swirling green, it was therapeutic.
in hadestown, however, walks were less pleasant. everywhere persephone went, she saw dead-eyed workers toiling over one of hades’ new projects. it was definitely unnerving, but couldn’t bar her from walking. it was one of the only things tying her to the surface world.
persephone took her flask out of her dress and sipped from it, letting the sensation lull her into makeshift tranquility before going on her way. she usually avoided looking around her while walking, but something in the corner of her eye caught her attention.
a crumpled mass lay on the ground, and upon further inspection, it differed from the other crumpled masses she usually saw. those were usually rocks, or bricks, or oddly-placed piles of pickaxes. but this one appeared to be shaking.
persephone stashed her flask back in her dress and stumbled over. this was a young man, thin and pale, and hurt badly. blood marred his face and stained his white shirt.
despite her better judgement, persephone touched his face to brush back his hair. it was impulsive, but she couldn’t remember the last time she touched someone with the intent to care. her hand met his forehead and upon contact, his eyes fluttered open.
persephone gasped. “the poet.” she murmured.
he attempted to speak, but all that would come out was a harsh hissing noise.
“hey, shh.” persephone shushed him. she felt the urge to protect this boy—goodness knew how long she’d been deprived of any opportunity to care for someone, and it was in her blood. she cultivated the earth, she trained the flowers to grow. she felt compelled to help this poet that had always said such kind words about her with his cup raised high. “can you walk, honey?” the term of endearment spilled out of her before she could stop it. she hadn’t called anyone something that tender in…forever.
the poet nodded feebly, allowing persephone to pull him to his feet. he held his right side with his left arm and cringed, but allowed persephone to lead him to her bar.
“that’s it, yeah.” persephone whispered. “step into my office.” she sat him on a chair and stepped back to find supplies.
“i remember you.” she told him. “you’re the poet.” once she had bandages and alcohol in tow, persephone pulled up a chair in front of her patient and started to tend to his wounds.
“orpheus.” the boy whispered. the words had no sooner left his mouth when he sat up abruptly. “i’m orpheus.” he said this like it was a revelation and locked eyes with persephone. “i need to find eurydice.” orpheus’s eyes widened. “i…i have to go and find eurydice, excuse me, please—“ he tried to stand, but only fell back into the chair with a sharp cry and wrapped an arm around his ribcage again.
persephone placed a pacifying hand on his chest. “whoa.” she said. “slow down, sweetheart. you’re not in any condition to go find anyone.” the poet’s eyes were desperate. persephone hadn’t seen desperation down here in a while, save for in the mirror.
wait.
she kept her hand against orpheus’s chest, spreading her fingers wide. to her shock, a fast beating met her fingertips. “you’re alive.”
orpheus blinked. “i am.” it was too tentative to be a statement, but not curious enough to be a question. “i, i am.”
persephone peered at the poet in disbelief. she took in his thin, trembling frame and the cuts and bruises on his face. had she not felt his heart, she wouldn’t have known he was alive at all. “you can’t be here.” she murmured. “how can you be here?”
“there’s another way, a-around the back.”
“there’s another way?” she exclaimed, perhaps too loudly. orpheus flinched, and persephone quickly stopped herself from shouting anything else. he couldn’t take any sudden movements right now, not like this. “sorry…what other way?” she had searched everywhere for another way out. never before had she found a back way.
orpheus shook his head. “i can’t, i…” he coughed and grimaced at the consequent sharp pain in his cracked ribs. “i can’t tell you. i don’t know, i didn’t look up, i couldn’t, i just—just couldn’t…” he concentrated on regulating his breathing, focusing on keeping his heart rate down. it was clear to persephone that he was unused to feeling like this…whatever “this” was.
“calm down, honey. it’s okay. i’m here. i’m here.” persephone murmured with a hand still on orpheus’s chest. sharing escape tips would have to come later. “slow down, hush.”
“it’s my fault she’s down here, it’s my fault, i need to tell her that i’m sorry.” orpheus was shivering, but it was far from cold. persephone took her hand off of his chest to get the faux fur coat she always brought down with her. orpheus didn’t turn to look and cast his eyes downward, his arm tightening around his body. persephone draped the coat around the boy with a tutting noise of sympathy. poor kid. he really did look like he was falling apart at the seams.
“when was the last time you ate?” she asked. she wasn’t a mother in the biological sense, but every bone in her body was screaming at her to tend to this poor, lost boy.
orpheus shook his head, dazed. “i, i dunno. i don’t remember.”
persephone felt a pang of guilt strike her heart. she knew it wasn’t really her fault, but she did feel guilty for everyone on earth that had to deal with the dead harvests and unforgiving weather while she was in hadestown, fighting with her husband. “here, i can get you some…” she slipped behind the bar and kneeled down. “i have some bread—it’s not old, i just smuggled it in.” persephone took it, unwrapped it, and spread a generous pat of butter on two slices. “here.” orpheus’s hunger was nearly palpable; she could feel it in the air.
he hesitated, looking at persephone cautiously.
sympathy filled her heart, mixing with the guilt. “go on, honey, eat. i won’t do anything—you can eat.”
orpheus lifted the bread to his mouth and took a bite. his eyes widened, and in a few seconds, the bread was gone. he devoured it practically whole.
persephone chuckled despite herself, sat, and began to clean orpheus’s wounds with alcohol…not the fun kind. he winced, but didn’t have enough strength to really pull back.
“is everyone as hungry as you up there?”
orpheus nodded and met her question with a tentative one of his own. “does everyone get…get food like that down here?”
persephone thought for a moment. “i suppose so, yes.” then again, no one working down at the factory necessarily needed food—the nonstop labor sapped them of any hunger. nonetheless, the poet deflated before her very eyes, breathing a quiet sigh of relief.
“so she’s being fed.” he whispered, half to himself.
persephone tilted her head. she knew who he was talking about. the look on his face said it all. “you really love her, don’t you.”
orpheus touched his right hand to his chest. “with all my heart.”
persephone nodded, a ghost of a smile on her lips. she remembered feeling like that about hades—like there was no one else, nothing else that could make her feel the way he did. she missed it. “how did you get in here? other than the back way.” she looked around the bar as a precaution before continuing. “the fates are not known for their forgiving nature. atropos, especially.”
orpheus blinked. “the fates?”
persephone nodded. “three ladies, all dressed the same.” she set a gentle hand on his knee in her attempt to jog his memory. “never liked them, myself.”
“i sang a song.” orpheus said, sounding far away. “i sang a song so beautiful, the stones wept.” he directed his intense gaze at the bewildered persephone. “and they let me in.”
“must have been one hell of a song.”
just like that, he stared at the floor again, avoiding any possible confrontation. “i wrote it so spring would come back.”
before she could stop herself, persephone laughed. “to make spring come back?”
“it’s a foolish idea, i—“
“no! no. it’s not.” persephone regretted laughing immediately. she had never seen someone so unabashedly filled with hope, she didn’t know what else to do. “how long did it take to write?” what started as trying to keep the boy distracted from his wounds has blossomed into real curiosity. she was touched that he cared so much, and not just about the weather.
“it’s not finished, i still can’t…” orpheus swallowed and shook his head. “…i can’t get it quite right.”
something in his eyes told persephone that he wasn’t disclosing a very important part of the story. she’d seen that look glinting in hades’ eyes every time winter ended. something like regret. “and the girl? eurydice?” she fought to keep an edge of disdain out of her voice. it wasn’t orpheus’s fault that he was starting to remind her so much of her husband.
orpheus understood the question immediately—much to persephone’s dismay. “i thought i could bring spring back, i really did. i couldn’t think about anything else. i didn’t eat, or, or sleep, but neither did she.” he raised his head weakly and made a fist just to do something with the hand that wasn’t pressed to his side. evidently, this wasn’t his favorite thing to talk about. “i couldn’t provide for her. i was blind, i couldn’t…i was so caught up in…” his dull eyes suddenly shone in a moment of temporary clarity. “ in the world that could be—“
“—that you couldn’t see the world that is.” persephone finished sharply. “the world that was right in front of you.”
orpheus blinked.
“you remind me of my husband.” persephone took her hand off of his knee.
“of hades?” the poet’s voice broke on the god of the underworld’s name.
you’ve scared him, persephone. he’s already scared enough, he doesn’t need more.
she shook her head, taking his hand and stroking the back of it with her thumb. “i didn’t mean it badly, sweetheart.” persephone backtracked. “i promise.”
orpheus shuddered, but didn’t take his hand back. persephone didn’t blame him for being scared. hades didn’t used to be so hell-bent on his factories. there was something new in his eyes that she had never recognized before. something without any reservations. something dark that didn’t used to be there. it was all about the machinery, all about the wall. what hades didn’t understand was that it wasn’t going to help anyone on the surface. making the underworld into a sauna wasn’t going to make summer come back.
building a wall wasn’t going to fix the barrier between him and persephone, either.
persephone pushed that out of her mind. only room for one hades-related breakdown a day, remember? think of the mortals. besides, this is about orpheus. “and eurydice…is she…?”
now orpheus took back his hand and pressed it to his mouth. persephone watched as tears pooled in the corners of his eyes. he was so sensitive, this boy. when he felt things, he felt them with his whole heart, his whole chest. she could see it in the way he spoke about the girl he loved. she could see it in the way he physically ached for eurydice but barely flinched when persephone tended to the cuts on his face and his bloody nose.
a tear slowly rolled down orpheus’s cheek, seeping into the gash on his cheekbone. persephone swallowed the urge to cry with him. i was wrong. he isn’t like hades at all, she thought. hades would never feel remorse like this for me.
she pulled the fur coat tighter around his shoulders. “hey. hey, hey. honey, listen…” her hand found orpheus’s knee again. “orpheus, it’s going to be okay.”
a sob escaped his lips, shaking his whole body with its force. the poet shook his head and pressed his hand tighter against his mouth.
persephone could do nothing but watch as he broke down in front of her. she knew that there was nothing she could say or do that would calm him.
after a minute or two, he gathered himself. orpheus risked a glance at persephone with red-rimmed eyes. upon seeing her concerned expression, he let go of the tension in his shoulders and exhaled. “it was gonna be the two of us.” he murmured. “if i had finished the song sooner, i could have…she wouldn’t have left.”
“can you sing it for me?”
orpheus’s expression changed from one of sorrow to one of confusion. “sing it for you?”
persephone offered him a sad little smile. “you don’t have to, but i haven’t heard anything good in a while.” she shrugged. “and i’d like to hear it straight from the poet himself.”
after a moment. orpheus tightened his grip on the side of his body and took a careful breath. with that, he started to sing.
it was a gorgeous melody. it truly was. there weren’t any words as far as persephone was aware. it didn’t matter. he didn’t need them. every few seconds, orpheus took a pause and changed a note or two. it was a broken melody, and definitely more of a work in progress than persephone first thought.
but it was breathtaking.
every time he paused, she could see his brain working. she saw the poet writing and rewriting, crossing out and composing in his mind. she had never seen anything like it.
orpheus held his next note out, long and glimmering with a gentle vibrato unique to him and him only. he repeated his previous unsuccessful melodies again after the first long note, decreasing in volume. there was a few seconds of this, and suddenly persephone watched something click in his head. something had just come together in a spectacular way. she listened closely.
this tune was different. still gorgeous…but different. persephone felt it in her chest, each beat of her heart echoing every note. it was familiar, and sad, and filled with what sounded like buried affection.
orpheus trailed off, eyes wide with the shock of this new development in his song. “i think that was it.” he mumbled. “that was the rest of it. that was it.”
a spell that persephone didn’t realize orpheus’s voice had cast over the room broke. “orpheus, where did you get that melody?” she asked quietly.
he stared at persephone with a mixture of fear and wonder on his face. “i, i don’t know. i don’t know, i…” orpheus blinked. “it’s not mine, i know that, but it’s something i’ve felt for a long time. it’s in my heart.”
persephone considered the boy, taking in his tear-streaked face and awe-filled stare. “it’s in mine, too.”
the silence that fell following her words was almost comfortable. before they had really met, persephone had liked orpheus. she had liked his music. but seeing him up close, observing the way he felt so deeply for things…it made her love him. she cared about him. she wanted to see him succeed. and she didn’t want him to lose eurydice. if anyone in this world deserved pure love, it was orpheus. he had made mistakes, but his intentions were crystal clear. persephone saw this.
“i need to find her. i need to tell her i finished the song, i…” he trailed off. “i’ll lose her forever if i don’t.”
persephone made a soft, comforting noise. “you just made a mistake.”
orpheus unwrapped his left arm from his side and gave a soft hiss of pain. “she’ll never forgive me.” he whispered and made to put his head in his hands, but persephone reached out and lifted his chin. his hands fell to his lap.
“orpheus, if you love her, and she loves you, then…” persephone sighed. “it would be a bigger mistake to let her go.” she fiddled with the hem of her dress. “you have to keep trying.”
“how?” orpheus asked, his voice more breath than anything else. “how can i keep trying when ha—your husband…he won’t let me.” he couldn’t bring himself to say the god of the underworld’s name. persephone didn’t blame him.
“you would be surprised.” she spoke in a stage whisper. “people will hear you through that crack you made in the wall, orpheus.” persephone raised her head to look him in the eye. “everybody knows the walls have ears.”
AGSJSHSJSH I FORGET THAT NOT EVERYONE KNOWS ABOUT THE PAPERS AUS.
the papers aus (there’s like thirteen of them at this point) are different scenarios i’ve created that happen directly after papers. they’re all different and separate from each other, and each au focuses on something different (a different character/character dynamic/setting/etc).
ok seph patching up orpheus is all I care about and I want to know more about the fates one!! how do the fates respond to her asking like do they actually care?? or are they just doing it bc their girl seph is calling in a favor?? I’m so curious abt all your headcanons whoops 😬
the first hadestown fic i ever wrote was actually papers au #1!!! here’s an excerpt:
“orpheus.” the boy whispered. the words had no sooner left his mouth when he sat up abruptly. “i’m orpheus.” he said this like it was a revelation and locked eyes with persephone. “i need to find eurydice.” orpheus’s eyes widened. “i...i have to go and find eurydice, excuse me, please—“ he tried to stand, but only fell back into the chair with a sharp cry and wrapped an arm around his ribcage again.
persephone placed a pacifying hand on his chest. “whoa.” she said. “slow down, sweetheart. you’re not in any condition to go find anyone.” the poet’s eyes were desperate. persephone hadn’t seen desperation down here in a while, save for in the mirror.
wait.
she kept her hand against orpheus’s chest, spreading her fingers wide. to her shock, a fast beating met her fingertips. “you’re alive.”
orpheus blinked. “i am.” it was too tentative to be a statement, but not curious enough to be a question. “i, i am.”
persephone peered at the poet in disbelief. she took in his thin, trembling frame and the cuts and bruises on his face. had she not felt his heart, she wouldn’t have known he was alive at all.
as for the fates thing, it’s lachesis that softens enough to help persephone. she is the fate that’s closest to persephone, and she knows that she wants to save the boy. clotho reluctantly follows her lead, but atropos remains icy. lachesis cares about persephone way more than she cares about orpheus—she doesn’t really care about orpheus at all, in fact. clotho does it out of curiosity, and ends up really feeling for orpheus. atropos only gets more cynical and bitter all the way up until lachesis calls her out on it.
regardless of what they did to help him, though, in the end, they still drive him to turn. and it’s even worse because orpheus recognizes them.
Hi jo now you're legally required to tell us about each of the papers aus. And, a side question, what has Orpheus done to you for you to cause him so much imaginary pain?
hiya! the papers aus, as i like to call them, are 7-9 different versions of what happened after orpheus was left on the ground after papers. most of them involve persephone, one of them involves both persephone and hades, one of them involves hermes and persephone, absolutely none of them include eurydice. here is the list i think. some of them i’m not ready to share, but you should all be aware that they exist:
papers #1: persephone takes him to her bar and fixes him up. she asks him to sing for her. he does, and in the process, finishes the song. this is the only full-length papers au fic.
papers #2: i published this one! it’s called “you’d pity poor orpheus.”
papers #3: classified as of late.
papers #4: persephone finds him, takes him to the balcony.
papers #5: classified as of late.
papers #6: persephone finds him, takes him to hermes, who, because of his role as narrator, cannot tend to him. he and persephone argue about it.
papers #7: classified as of late.
papers #8: classified as of late.
papers #9: orpheus gains consciousness alone. due to a blow to the head, he can’t hear his own voice.
SHIT I LIED! there’s 10: persephone finds him and calls on the fates for help.
to answer your question: i don’t know why i hurt him so much, but i sure am good at it.
HELLO I AM AU ANON (idk why I went on anon lol??) BUT I WANT TO HEAR ABT UR PAPERS AU’S and basically anything angsty w the poet boy
ok so all my papers aus are just different versions of what happened after papers when orpheus was left on the ground and the workers all went back where they came from.
i think all of them involve seph because im a slut for their mother/son relationship. and one of them involves the fates which is. wild. you gotta be a lil more specific because there’s like ten of them shdksjfkjdfj
