So this is a angsty Kutner oneshot about the his parents death. They need to explore that more on the show!! But yeah, this is the second in the "Alphabet Soup" series. For more info, see my profile, but basically, I'm going to write a oneshot for every letter of the alphabet about the characters of House. Check out the one I've done already :)

Disclamier: Don't own House.

It took many years for Kutner to get over the death of his parents. He spent many nights lying awake, questioning why things turned out the way they did. But when it did happen, it came all at once and he wasn't expecting it.

He had been doing a late night shift in the emergency room for some extra hours. Kutner was fresh out of medical school and was eager to experience as much as he could, and at the same time, make some more much needed money.

Kutner had been tending to a little girl with appendicitis when they wheeled her in on the gurney. Kutner cringed at the sight, and much to his dismay, Dr. Wright was madly waving Kutner over to the woman that they had just rushed into the ER. Reluctantly, Kutner shuffled over to the area where Dr. Wright and several nurses were madly working.

"Kutner, what's your problem? Come on!" Wright yelled. The temperamental red-headed female was swiftly attaching monitors to the woman's body. Kutner just stared down at the woman.

The unfortunate woman that they were treating was horribly injured. Later, Kutner found out that she had been the victim of a brutal car crash. The woman, whom he never knew her name (he didn't want to know her name) was far more damaged that anything Kutner had ever experienced before. Her limbs were broken and bent at odd angles, she had pieces of glass stuck in her from the car wreckage, her clothes were ripped, and she had gashes and cuts all over her body. Burns covered her left side, enhancing her sickening appearance.

What bothered Kutner the most was the blood. It was everywhere. It had stained her clothes and was now spreading onto the sheets of the bed and mixing into her light colored hair, making it more matted that it already was. It was a sight that made Kutner want to look away.

"Kutner!"

He shook his head and grabbed a pair of gloves and put them on, and stood next to Wright, awaiting her instructions.

"Well, go ahead," she said.

Wordlessly, Kutner reached forward and began cleaning the blood off of the patient's body. When he went to throw away the soiled cloths, he paused, looking at the blood that covered his hands.

It was all too familiar.

--

Kutner was six years old when he became an orphan. Even though it happened at a young age, he could still remember that night perfectly. Sometimes, he wished he could forget it. Other times, he was glad that he remembered it so vividly because it made him into he is today.

It was a Friday night, and his mom and dad were working late at their family store. Kutner had been behind the counter, sitting in his mother's lap watching the television, while his father tended to the store, stocking items on the shelf. Kutner had been dozing off, head snuggled against his mom when he heard the bell chime, indicating that someone had come through the door.

His mother gently pushed Kutner off of her lap, and stood up at the counter, smiling at the young man that was standing at the door, looking around at the store.

"Hi, can I help you?" his mother courteously asked.

The man glanced over at Kutner's mother. Kutner stood on his tip-toes with his chin resting on the counter so he could see the man that his mom was talking to. The man took a hesitant step forward, looked over at Kutner's dad, and then with a sigh, reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a gun and pointed it at Kutner's mom.

Immediately, Kutner's mom pushed her son to the floor and yelled at him to go to the backroom, but Kutner remained slumped on the floor, staring up at his frightened mother. The next thing that Kutner remembered was that his father shouted something to the man. What he said must have turned the man away from his mom, but Kutner didn't know for sure. At the time, he didn't really know what was happening.

After that, his mom knelled down next to Kutner with her long dark hair falling over her shoulders and reached out and grabbed Kutner and pulled him into her chest and began whispering harsh prayers into his ears.

"Mommy, what's-," Kutner began, but was hushed by his mother by her putting her hand over his mouth. She continued to mutter prayers. Kutner didn't know what they meant, so instead he listened to his mother's frantic heart beat and the conversation that his father was having with the man.

"Now!" the man yelled.

"Okay, alright." Kutner's father held his hands up in surrender and turned his back to the man and began slowly walking to the counter, the man following, holding the gun to his back. When he got behind the counter, he looked down at his shivering wife and son and smiled.

Don't worry, he mouthed to them. His hand brushed up against the steel of a gun that they kept under the counter for situations like this.

Kutner didn't know if the man had seen his dad reaching for the gun, or if he just got tired of waiting. It all happened so fast; first the was the sound of the gun being fired, then his mother's scream, the sound of the bullet making contact, then the sound of his father falling to the ground.

"No!" his mother cried. She let go of Kutner and crawled over to her now dead husband, sobbing and clinging to his hand.

The shooter glanced down and shot Kutner's mother without a seconds thought. She didn't even know what had happened.

Kutner watched as his mother's lifeless form fell down next to his father's. He froze; would the same thing happen to him? Should he stay where he was, or should he go over to his parents?

The shooter stepped over Kutner's parent's bodies and opened the cash register and began stuffing money into his pockets. After he had emptied its contents, the whimpering, wide-eyed little boy in the corner caught his eye.

He raised the gun and pointed it at Kutner. Kutner turned his head away and closed his eyes tightly shut, hoping that his mom or dad would save him. The man then laughed, causing Kutner to look at the man. Kutner's eyes met the shooter's, and looking back, Kutner cursed his young innocence for not trying to stop the man, or at least ask him a simple, "Why?" The shooter shook his head and then turned to leave. Before exiting the store, he grabbed a baseball cap and shoved it on his head, trying to conceal his identity.

When he was sure that the man was gone, Kutner crawled over to his parents. Blood was splattered all on the floor and on the front counter, and was making a red trail on the floor. Looking down, Kutner saw that he was sitting in a puddle of blood that was forming from his parents.

Kutner gently nudged his mom.

"Mommy."

No answer.

"Daddy?"

No response.

Kutner felt tears in his eyes begin to well up, both out of frustration and fear. Why wouldn't his parents say anything?

He tried moving them again, rougher this time. However, no matter how hard he tried, Kutner could not get his mom and dad to wake up. Kutner looked down at his hands. The slick blood that had come from his parents covered his small palms. At that moment, he knew that his parents were not coming back.

Tears spilled out of Kutner's eyes and ran down his cheeks as he scooted back and sat under the counter and turned his head, looking away from his parent's lifeless bodies.

It wasn't until 4 hours later that someone found them. An elderly lady had come into the store and had heard faint sobs and crimson liquid on the counter. Looking over the counter, seeing the young husband and wife dead on the floor lying in their own blood, she hurriedly called the police on the telephone sitting on the counter.

The lady waited with Kutner until the police came. She tried to coax him out from under the counter, but Kutner remained under there, curled up and hugging his knees. It was a police officer that finally had to pick him up and carry him out of the store, kicking and yelling and crying the entire way.

Kutner remained in foster care for three years. When he was nine, he got adopted by a family, and Kutner was very content with them. They gave him everything he could ask for, including the love from parents that he missed. They became his new mom and dad, and he was perfectly fine with that.

It was three days after his birth parent's murder that the shooter was tracked down and arrested. The last Kutner heard was that he had died in jail, but Kutner didn't really follow up on it. It didn't matter; it wouldn't bring his parents back. He couldn't go back to who he once was, he was now Lawrence Kutner. The little boy had died a long time ago, along with his birth mom and dad.

--

It's the instinct of humans that they somehow think that it won't happen to them or to ones they love. Kutner learned not to dwell over their death, but to rationalize, learn from it and move on. What he learned to accept was that everybody dies.

It was treating that woman in the ER that night when Kutner came to that fact. She died right there in spite of the fact that himself, Wright and the other people were working to keep her alive, unlike that one night when Kutner couldn't do anything to stop his parents from death.

The woman in the ER had massive bleeding into the brain; she had no chance of survival. She left behind two children and a terminally ill husband. The husband died four months later, Wright had informed Kutner one day.

After that night in the ER, Kutner learned that his parent's death was not just and unfortunate event. It was a fact of life.

And that's all.

I don't do drugs, so reviews are my drug of choice :) Thanks!

-Revengent