Though he was sleeping, House could detect a presence, something that was not quite supposed to be there. The presence was staring at him, silently beckoning him from his slumber. He resisted it, trying to focus on the fleeting details of whatever he had been dreaming, willing himself back to sleep. It did not go away and, even without sound and without movement, it seemed stronger than before.

Defeated, he turned onto his side and reached for the lamp on the night stand. As it come on, a soft glow illuminated the room, casting shadows on the walls. Standing about a foot from the bed was Chase, holding onto his toy cat. House could immediately tell that he had been crying--again. His eyes which always seemed so big were red and his cheeks were streaked from tears. "What's wrong?" he asked. "Did you have another nightmare?" He sat up, afraid that Chase would have more mysterious injuries that would need tending.

"Can I sleep in your bed?" Chase asked softly, looking down at the floor.

"Why do you want to sleep in my bed?" House asked. That was not a habit he wanted Chase to establish. He disliked the way Chase had trouble looking at him when he made a request. He did not want Chase to approach him with the same fear that he must have had when approaching his mother. A child should not be afraid to go to a parent after a nightmare. It reminded him that he had to be mindful of his tone and actions. The trust he had was tenuous at best.

"To make sure you're there," Chase answered.

"I'm not going anywhere," House assured him. "See. I'm just sleeping, which is what you should be doing too."

"I want to make sure you're okay."

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" House asked, thinking that he should be the one getting up in the middle of the night to make sure Chase was okay, not the other way around.

"You might die too," Chase answered.

House felt a surge of something go straight to his heart. It was like a pulse of guilt combined with a twisted jolt of compassion. It was not completely unpleasant, but it was something unfamiliar and it made him do something he would not have done otherwise: he pulled down the covers and made a space for Chase to lie down next to him. "Come on," he said, patting the bed. He watched as the little boy crawled onto the bed at the foot and made his way to the pillows, dragging the stuffed animal with him.

Chase laid his head on the pillow and he held the toy at his side. House pulled the covers over him, then turned off the light before settling back into his own well-worn, comfortable spot.

"I'm glad you're okay," Chase said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want you to die too."

"I don't want me to die either," House assured him. The possibility was sobering. This child who was depending on him had no one else in the world that he could rely on.

House wondered if he even had another ten years left. The Vicodin had to be wrecking his liver. What would become of Chase, of his son, if he died? His immediate thought was that Wilson could raise him, but would Wilson be able or want to take on the responsibility? One thing was certain--House was going to have to find out. He could not let the boy become a ward of the state. He would have to be with someone who understood his special needs and who would encourage his natural aptitudes. It would be devastating for Chase to grow up without someone who nurtured his intelligence. That was the one way in which Rowan Chase had succeeded, perhaps even gone too far, as a father.

House glanced at the digital clock near his bed and wondered if these were the kinds of things that parents were supposed to think about at two o'clock in the morning. If this was what it was like to be a parent, it made no sense to him that anyone ever had more than one child. Frankly, the whole ever-lasting responsibility thing was a drag.

"Will you promise to not leave me?" Chase asked timidly.

"I'll do my best," House said. "I can't predict the future, but I'll do everything I can to stay with you for a long time." It would have been easier to say that he would not leave, but House was in no position to promise that promise.

"I miss my Granny. I wish she was here."

"I bet she misses you too," House said. Though he had nothing to base it on, he had an image of Chase's grandmother in his mind: an older lady sitting in a rocking chair, petting her cat while her "sweet little mouse" played on the floor at her feet. She was an anchor of security in the child's otherwise tumultuous life.

He thought of his own mother. She would probably be thrilled to learn she had a grandson. He was certain she had given up on any dream of having grandchildren long ago. He imagined that Chase would enjoy having another grandmother. He knew he should introduce them, but had no desire to expose Chase to his father, who would, inevitably show up if his mother came to visit. Introducing Chase to John House would turn into a disaster.

His mother, on the other hand, might actually be quite useful. She would know the kinds of things a four year old boy needed. House decided he would call his mother in the morning and ask her to come visit so she could meet her grandson. It would be good for Chase to know that he had more family and that was the most important thing. The child was living in too much fear and House could put up with his mother for one day if it meant fewer nights spent promising Chase that he was not going to die in his sleep.

"Are you awake?" House whispered.

"Yes," Chase whispered back.

"How would you like to meet my mother? Since she's my mother, she's your grandmother."

Chase sat up, "I have another grandmother?"

"Yep," House said. It was easy to detect the child's excitement, even though he could barely be seen in the dark.

"Is she nice?"

"I think she is," House told him.

"Is she going to like me?"

"She's going to love you."

"Are you sure?"

"Positive."

"Is it okay if I still love my Granny?"

"You'll always love your Granny, but you can love your new grandmother too."

"When can I meet her?" Chase asked.

"Soon," House promised.

"Really?"

"Really." House patted Chase's pillow. "Lay down. It's time to go back to sleep."

AN: As always, thank you for reading/commenting! FYI: this detour from my original plan is all thanks to Angelfirenze. :)