"The next time I have the bright idea to invite my mother to visit, remind me of today," House said as he gave Wilson one of the last two beers in his fridge. He had to push aside whole milk and juice boxes to find them.

"I don't think that urge will strike again any time soon," Wilson commented.

House sat down, leaned his cane against the table and squeezed his thigh with his right hand. He had taken two pills the moment his parents left, but they had not done much to dull the pain.

"Probably not," House agreed. "Why do we have baby wipes?" he asked, noting the double-stacked package on his kitchen counter. "He's not a baby."

"He has been known to wear chocolate," Wilson reminded him.

House glanced to the living room where Chase was currently conked out on his mattress. He was starting to realize a child's life went in cycles of eating, sleeping, and in his emotionally traumatized son's case, crying. The room was filled with shopping bags full of clothes, shoes, toys, books, blocks, children's medications, and food marketed to kids. "I miss my TV," he said glancing at the set. "After a day like this, I'd like to watch something completely mind-numbing." He saw a new stack of DVDs that Blythe had picked out for Chase. "But not necessarily animated."

"Maybe you could move it into the bedroom," Wilson suggested.

"I think I'm going to have to get a bigger place," House said. "The kid needs a bedroom. Actually, he needs a bed. He's practically sleeping on the floor."

"You should see if there are any two-bedrooms in the building."

"I will," House nodded. He noticed a teddy bear peaking from the top of one of the bags. "Maybe he'll start to play more now that he has some toys he got to pick out."

Wilson snickered. "Like his My Little Pony."

House had led Chase to the toy section of the local Target and told him he could pick out "anything he wanted." The first thing Chase had seen was a white horse with a green mane and tail. He took it from the shelf and told House, "I like horses! My Granny took me to a ranch one time and I got to ride a horse. It was white too. But it didn't have green hair. I've never seen a real horse with green hair though."

Wilson had been certain that House was going to tell Chase, "That's a girl's toy," except that John House had beaten him to it. That was just enough to make House angry.

"He's not old enough to care," House said.

"I thought he was a genius," John argued.

"He's still four," House reminded him. "He can have the horse if he wants it." House even unwrapped it in the car so Chase could annoy his grandfather by playing with a girl's toy. That was when House noticed that it had green shamrocks on its ass and he swore to himself that their next trip to a toy store would result in the purchase of a more manly horse and a couple of cowboys to go with it; and, just for good measure, guns.

House frowned at Wilson's snickering. "He doesn't know--"

"That it's a girl's toy," Wilson finished. "I know."

"It's not like he picked out a Barbie." House doubted he could have allowed Chase to bring home a Barbie even if it would have made John crazy.

"I'm glad you didn't make an issue of it like your father tried to do," Wilson said seriously. "He's really sensitive to criticism and he's afraid to do anything wrong." He shook his head, "Poor kid."

"I don't think he even knows how to have fun," House commented. "He's probably never had time between the language lessons and math tutoring." He took a gulp of his beer. "I don't suppose they have How to Learn Czech for Preschoolers on DVD now?"

Wilson shrugged. "No idea. Are you going to keep tutoring him the way his fath--Rowan did?"

"I certainly can't teach him Czech and my Japanese is limited, but it's part of who Chase is."

"It's part of who Chase was. Along with probably being a social outcast because he couldn't fit in with his age peers."

"What are you saying?" House asked.

"Maybe, this go 'round, he can actually be a kid."

"He's still, more than likely, going to be smarter than anyone else in his class," House pointed out. "Hell, he's probably going to be smarter than his teachers."

"That doesn't mean he has to stand out like a little genius freak."

"Maybe I could try to help him reach his potential, but put him in the hospital daycare to let him learn some social skills too," House considered out loud. He imagined Chase in a normal preschool with children who were beginning to learn the alphabet and how to count while he was already reading and doing math in his head. "It's not going to work," he announced.

"What isn't going to work?" Wilson asked. "Daycare?"

"Kindergarten."

"It's a little early to worry--"

"No, it's not. He'll be bored. Then he'll become a nightmare. He'll stay in trouble all the time. The teacher will say he's not paying attention, but he'll get everything right when he's quizzed so the teacher will get mad and accuse him of being a little smartass and warn all her friends that he's a horrible kid. He'll get labeled as a behavior problem and every teacher will make sure he lives down to their expectations. He'll be blowing things up by the time he's eleven."

"Like you?" Wilson asked.

"Exactly."

"You can't keep him out of school."

"I'll home school him."

"You? You're going to quit your job to teach first grade?"

"Hell, no. I'll hire him a teacher. And he can stay in daycare at the hospital some too."

"There's a waiting list," Wilson warned him.

"Why do you know that?"

"I hear other employees complaining about it."

Whether it was a perk of being tenured or if Cuddy just pulled some strings, House had no trouble at all getting his child a space in the hospital daycare. All the trouble came afterward.

The amount of stuff House had to take with Chase on the first day in the center made it look like they were moving. Each child was required to bring two changes of clothing and one pair of shoes. House thought that was perfectly reasonable given the average preschooler's proclivity for making a mess. What he thought was unreasonable was all the other things he had to bring including a mat for napping, paper towels, tissues, baby wipes, colors, snack foods, and zip-lock bags. In addition, House included several books intended for older children since he was sure Chase would be bored to tears by lower-level stories. Writing "Chase House" on the inside cover of each book was, perhaps, the strangest thing he had done so far.

House handed the Cars-themed book bag to Ms. Maggie, the worker who welcomed him and Chase to the daycare. "I brought him some books," he said. "Of course you can read them to the other children too."

Maggie laughed politely, "Oh, Dr. House, we have quite a library."

House nodded and responded seriously, "Since you didn't have tissues, I wasn't sure."

Maggie kept smiling. "Silly, Daddy! Kids go through so many we ask our parents to help supply some things, just like a public school."

House thought that to be an odd comparison since no one had to pay upwards of ten thousand dollars a year to send their child to public school. He leaned closer to Maggie, "Chase is a little more advanced than your average preschooler. I'm not sure Green Eggs and Ham is going to hold his attention."

Maggie shook her head slightly. "Advanced seems to be the norm with doctors' kids," she said. House could almost see the quotation marks she put around advanced.

"He's advanced for a doctor's kid," House warned her. "Take my word for it."

"Of course," Maggie said agreeably.

House could tell she was placating him. It made him hope that Chase would be overcome with the urge to tell her off in Japanese. Only, she would probably think he was just babbling nonsense and would not be nearly as impressed or as insulted as she should be.

For his part, Chase was sticking very close to House and watching and listening quietly while he talked to the strange frizzy-haired woman. Ms. Maggie had a medium build and plain features. She wore pale green scrubs covered with spotted puppies.

As soon as House let go of some of the stuff he had brought, Chase grabbed his hand and held on tightly. House did not necessarily like having a tiny hand holding onto his own, but he allowed it.

Chase watched the other children with one part fascination and two parts trepidation. This room was for four and five year olds only, so everyone was about his size. Chase saw three boys on the floor building a high rise of blocks. Closer to him was a girl who was sitting in a small rocking chair, pretending to feed a doll. Two other girls were looking through a toy chest and playing dress up with hats, purses, and feather boas. In addition to Maggie, another woman was keeping a watchful eye on the group.

"Do you want to say hello to Ms. Jaime and the other children?" Maggie asked, leaning down to talk to Chase.

Chase shook his head to say no and moved even closer to House.

House patted his head. "I don't think he's been around other children very much."

Maggie's expression showed that she thought that was unusual. Perhaps she could already predict that the timid child lacked the normal social skills of the others.

"He's not a behavior problem," House assured her. "He's just shy. He doesn't know how to act around kids. He's very good with adults." So long as you don't criticize him, he added silently. He looked down at the boy who was clinging to him. He knew he should probably offer some kind of encouragement, but he was not sure of anything to say that would sound less than idiotic. He knew first impressions were very important and he hoped Chase would be able to blend in with the others. He was far more worried about Chase being too shy to fit in than he was about getting a call informing him that the boy had blown up the sand box. He knew Chase needed this exposure to other children as much as he needed to get back to work.

"Come with me, please," Maggie said to Chase, offering her hand.

Chase shook his head, tugged on House's untucked shirt tail and said one word. "Up."

House was surprised to say the least. Chase seemed much more like a two year old than an exceptionally bright four year old. It was no wonder that Maggie thought parents exaggerated their kids' skills. "I can't pick you up," House said. "Don't worry. You'll be okay here."

Chase looked disheartened.

"It's okay. You can stay here with Ms. Maggie and the other children."

"Can't I go with you? I'll be good."

"I know you'll be good. But I have to go to work."

"I could stay with Cammie or Foreman."

"Cameron and Foreman have to work too."

"I can help," Chase offered. "Wilson said I'm a good helper."

House smiled, imaging four year old Chase running a differential diagnosis. "I want you to stay here and play instead."

"I'll be good," Chase promised again in a desperate whine. "I'll be quiet and I'll stay out of the way. I want to go with you."

House hugged the child briefly. "I want you to stay here and have fun. Going to work is no fun for little boys. I promise you'll be safe right here with Ms. Maggie. You can make new friends too."

"Are you coming back?" Chase asked.

House sighed, realizing Chase was afraid of being abandoned. Between his mother's emotional abuse and the upheaval of his world, he expected to lose everything and everyone. "I'll be back at five-oh-five," he promised. "When we get home, we can watch a movie." The question made him ask one of his own. He turned to Maggie, "What time does the center close?"

"Eight o'clock," she answered. "We have extended hours to accommodate the staff."

When House made his promise, he had no idea that his patient would start seizing at four o'clock and go into cardiac arrest at four-forty-eight. Another hour of seizing followed. Eventually, she was stabilized and House realized he was very late to pick up his child. He wondered how he was supposed to get Chase home, fed, bathed, put to bed, and still figure out what was killing Gladys or whatever her name was. He had come to the conclusion that Chase would have to sleep on the couch in his office by the time he got to the center.

"Where have you been?" A very frazzled Maggie asked. "We've been paging you for over an hour."

"Saving a woman's life," House answered. "I'm not finished yet."

"Well, please find a minute to get your son to stop freaking out," Maggie demanded, leading him to one of the offices.

Jaime was sitting in a rocking chair, holding Chase who was sobbing in the most forlorn way House had ever heard.

"He's coming back," Jaime promised. "He's just running late." She looked up and saw House with Maggie. "Thank God!" she exclaimed. "Chase, look your daddy's finally here."

Chase looked up and saw House. For some reason, this only made him cry harder.

House rushed to him. Jaime stood to pass the child to House who traded his cane for his son and took a seat. Chase threw his arms around House's neck and held on for dear life. "Chase, what's wrong? Did you have a bad day?"

Jaime answered. "He was fine until five-fifteen. He thought you weren't coming back at all."

House rubbed Chase's back. "I'm sorry I'm late," he said. "I told you I'd come back at five-oh-five and I meant to, but I couldn't."

"But Mummy said," he hiccupped. "And then you didn't come back." He sucked in his breath and wailed.

"Don't think about any of those nasty things your mummy said," House told him in a soft voice. "I'm always going to come back for you. It's just sometimes people get really sick and I might be late because I have to help them. I'll try really hard to be on time though."

Jaime handed House a tissue so he could wipe Chase's eyes and nose.

"If for some reason I can't come at all, I'll send Wilson or Cameron, or Foreman, okay? I'm not going to get rid of you."

"I don't want another daddy. I want to stay with you," Chase begged. "I'll be good. Please don't get rid of me. Please let me stay with you."

"I'm not going to get rid of you," House promised, realizing that Chase was so hysterical that he was not quite comprehending everything he said.

"What if I do something wrong?" Chase asked. "What if you get tired of me like Mummy did? You can hit me if you want. Just don't get rid of me."

"I'm not like your mother," House reminded him. Knowing the child would rather be hit than alone stabbed at his heart. "Shhh," he soothed, still rubbing Chase's back. "I'm not going to get tired of you. I'm not going to abandon you. And I'm never, ever going to hit you no matter what."

House tried to ignore the two women in the room, but it was difficult to do so. Both had somehow left behind their annoyance and frustration with Chase's crying when the child started talking about his fears. Jaime had tears slipping from her eyes and she reached out to pat Chase's shoulder. House disliked the idea of their knowing Chase had been through such emotional and physical abuse at the hands of his mother. It might serve to further ostracize him from the "normal" kids. On the other hand, it might help them realize why he might over-react like this on occasion.

"I want to stay with you forever," Chase cried.

"You can," House promised.

"I love you, Daddy." Chase hugged House so tightly that House thought he might choke him. "Please don't leave me."

"Shhh," House repeated. "Calm down. Everything's okay."

Chase's breath was still ragged.

"I know you're tired, baby. Just close your eyes, okay," House rocked him gently, while patting Chase's back.

Chase gave into the soothing motion and the security of being in his daddy's arms.

House turned to Jaime, "Could you call Dr. Foreman for me?"

She obliged him. Foreman did not even ask any questions about why he was being called to the daycare center.

"Did he eat his lunch?" House asked, keeping his voice low. "He's kind of a picky eater."

"He picked at it. We had chicken pot pie. I think he shoved all the chicken aside, but he didn't complain and he ate some of the crust."

"He's not used to American food," House explained. "He's not trying to cause trouble. Please don't get mad at him if he won't eat."

"We never force a child to eat," Maggie explained. "However, they have to learn a schedule. So, if he chooses to not eat lunch, he'll have to wait until snack time. We only offer alternative lunches in case of food allergy, but parents are welcome to send lunch for their kids. If he'll eat your cooking, you may want to do that for him."

House nodded, amused at the notion of himself cooking. If it were up to him, Chase would be eating a lot of cold grilled cheese sandwiches.

"I better see who that is," Jaime said. A buzzing sound alerted her that someone had entered the main room. She returned in a couple of minutes with Foreman.

"You needed me?" he asked, trying very hard to resist getting out his phone and taking a photo of House with Chase snuggling against him.

"Carry the kid," House ordered. "And try to not wake him up, okay?"

Foeman scooped Chase from House's arms, but the motion jarred him awake.

Chase blinked a few times and smiled, "Foreman!"

The next thing Foreman knew, he was being hugged too.

"Where's my daddy?" Chase asked, looking around.

"I'm here," House answered. "I thought you were sleeping, so I asked Foreman to carry you upstairs for me."

Chase nodded, content that House was just there. "I had to leave my kitty at home," he told Foreman. "Daddy said it would be safe there and that if I brought it all the other kids might get their feelings hurt because they don't have kitties too."

"That was considerate of your daddy," Foreman said. He was surprised by how happy Chase was to see him.

"It's my favorite toy," Chase told him. "I named him Tino and he sleeps in my bed every night. I want to get a real cat someday and when I do, I'll name him Tino too."

"You will?" Foreman asked. He looked to House wondering if he knew that Chase's master plan included a pet. "Do you think you'll get a real cat soon?"

"We might be able to get a cat someday," House said agreeably. The last thing he wanted to do was give the child any reason at all to be further upset.

"Did you go to work today too?" Chase asked Foreman. "I wanted to come help, but Daddy said I had to play instead. I'd rather play with you. We could draw more dinosaurs."

House listened to Foreman promise to draw more dinosaurs with Chase. He was surprised and pleased at how quickly the child had moved on from his abandonment crisis. Crying had definitely been covered for the day. But eating and sleeping were still on the to do list and it was getting late.

AN: Thanks for reading! Sorry for the delay in updating. I was working on another story.