Listening to "Steady as She Goes" while typing up the last of this.
Days passed. Jacob went back to school the next day, with no comments from the assistant principle. He'd been confused when House had told him he wasn't being punished, hesitant as he walked in the door, but as the day passed he'd relaxed. Garret was nowhere to be seen – he'd been suspended, according to rumor. Caught fighting one too many times.
Whatever the case, Jacob had a new reputation at school. For the first time, he wasn't overlooked at every opportunity. People made eye contact with him, knew his name suddenly. It was both unnerving and exciting. Even his lunch table, the people he'd sat with for the entire year, seemed like they'd just met him.
Living with House and Wilson was better with every day that passed. The two men were not strict on anything – Jacob was experiencing a freedom to express himself that he hadn't had in his entire life. When he had a thought, he didn't have to clamp down on it and duck his head. He could say it, and say it loud, and not fear violent backlash. His two guardians quickly changed from distant saviors to fast friends.
And it was easy, for them to befriend him. House could relate to him on a way that he hadn't with anyone else. Jacob had been where he'd been – and because of that, had much the same outlook on life that House did. They laughed at the same things, cracked similar jokes. Pulled away from the violent pressure of his father, Jacob had a sparkling wit that bloomed a little more each day.
As for Wilson, he loved Jacob. He was the kid he'd never had, someone he could care for without fear of being mocked. And Jacob needed him, too – the teen desperately needed some unconditional love and support in his life. Wilson could provide that without blinking an eye.
The relationship between House and Wilson, too, began to bloom. House quickly bounced from poorly hidden innuendos and lewd humor to a quiet compassion. He was more comfortable with touch than he'd ever been – a brush of the hand here, a cuddle on the couch there. Never, not since the infarction had necessitated it, had Wilson been allowed this close. It seemed that they'd made the dive from friendship to relationship without as much as a ripple in the pond.
Soon, the day came when the social worker was scheduled to assess Jacob's situation. When she'd knocked on the door, after both men had come back from work, Wilson had opened it. She'd shown up around an hour early – on purpose. It was the best time to catch bad foster parents.
Mrs. Tate frowned, furrowing her brow. "Is Dr. House here?"
Wilson smiled easily, his brown eyes kind. "Yes. House!" he called over his shoulder. "You must be Mrs. Tate. Come in?"
Tate nodded, and stepped in after the man. Her pen was poised over her clip board, preparing for the worst. She was surprised at the neat home. It didn't seem like the man she'd seen at the hearing.
House still hadn't appeared, and neither had Jacob. Wilson smiled apologetically. "Sorry. They're practicing."
Intrigued, Tate followed Wilson into the living room. There, she found House and Jacob deep into a guitar session, neither of them paying attention to the other two in the room. House was picking out some complicated melody, and Jacob was totally focused in on him, trying to mimic his movements.
Wilson cleared his throat. "House."
House finally stopped, looking up at Wilson. His eyes flicked to Tate.
Jacob was watching silently, his mask in place. Of all the things he was most afraid of, being taken from here was the worst. Inwardly, he was already fighting panic; outwardly, he was as calm as can be.
House set the guitar on its stand carefully. Tate took it as an invitation to begin – so she did. Without waiting for an invitation, she sat herself on the couch and launched into speech.
"Dr. House, as I'm sure you're aware, this is a very unusual fostering case," she pointed out. "I'm here to make sure that Jacob's needs are being met. Don't think that just because you have influence in the Center means you have influence with me."
House raised his eyebrows. Wow. Catty.
Jacob nervously plucked at his guitar, the sound muted.
House leaned back. "So start with the questions, then. I'll do my best to answer as humbly as possible."
Behind Tate, Wilson winced at House's tone. Tate merely pursed her lips. She did not like House – not yet. Working with orphans and foster kids had made her a harsh judge of human character, and House was pushing quite a few of her buttons already.
Like a volley of bullets, she barked out questions – everything from Jacob's bedtime to his ride to and from school. She asked about typical meals, about out of school activities, about House's work schedule. She was not kind about it, either.
House calmly and accurately answered her probing, very relaxed. With each minute that passed, the alarming feeling Tate had gotten from the scruffy man at first glance was fading.
Eventually, she turned to Jacob. "Jacob. You need to answer me honestly, okay? I need to know if this is a good environment for you. If there's anything you have an issue with, tell me now.
Jacob took a deep breath, steadying himself. "There isn't. Nothing. I … I love it here."
His voice was thick with emotion, and Tate found that she believed him instantly.
She leaned back, tapping her pen on her clipboard. There was nothing written on the sheet.
Standing, she reached out to shake House's hand. He took it silently, his eyes open and confident. He knew the warning signs she'd been looking for, and he was fully confident that she wouldn't find it. Jacob was healthy and happy.
Tate cleared her throat. "I have to say I miss judged you," she offered grudgingly, always one to right her wrongs. "You're doing very well."
House nodded, silent. There was none of the mocking taunts that she'd expected, and she found herself relaxing.
She turned to Wilson, shaking his hand as well, and then squeezed Jacob on the shoulder. "I'll be back in a month. Jacob, if you ever need to call me, you have my number," she couldn't help but say, ever the pessimist.
Jacob nodded, but she could already see that he wouldn't. The kid she'd seen just a week ago, that scared, frightened shell, was already starting to dissipate.
That Saturday, Jacob went to work with House and Wilson. He had no friends too speak of at school (not yet, anyway,) and didn't feel comfortable alone at the apartment for long periods of time. So, he accompanied the pair of them to work.
They took the same car – according to House, a rare occurrence.
"Normally, we don't," House mentioned, glancing in the rearview as Wilson pulled out, "because Wilson usually wakes up way before me. But this morning we woke up at the same time, so we figured, why not."
Jacob grinned. The pair of them had been bouncing in between their two bedrooms since that first night. He'd never heard anything, but he was plenty old enough to know what was going on.
"Wipe that smirk off your face," Wilson scolded, but his eyes were smiling.
As the three of them walked into the hospital, they attracted some strange looks. It was common knowledge that House and Wilson were best friends. It was known, though less commonly, that they were living together. But they almost never arrived at the same time, much less with a kid in tow.
Jacob was already starting to be comfortable in the hospital. It was House's domain, his sanctuary. And where House felt comfortable, Jacob felt comfortable.
The fellows were quickly becoming Jacob's play thing. Like House, he enjoyed messing with people, and he excelled at it. It was fun, for him, to poke at the four men that House so loved to poke at. When Wilson would pick him up from school and he didn't have homework, he would accompany him straight to the hospital. Jacob found entertainment and distraction in the form of House's employees.
None the less, the ducklings couldn't stop themselves from pelting him with questions. Any time House was out of the room, they would ask him things.
When House left that Saturday for a short while, the fellows could hardly contain themselves – especially Taub.
"So," Taub began eagerly, but faltered, unsure of what he was going to ask.
Jacob raised his eyebrows.
Taub shook his head, warming his hands around a steaming cup of coffee. It was so odd to see Jacob in their midst. When Chase and Foreman had told him about House fostering the kid, he had thought they were jerking him around. But here was living, breathing proof that House did indeed have a heart.
"What's it like? Living with the pair of them," Chase asked, looking up from his crossword. They were in a rare lull in the day – with the patient on a potential treatment, all they could do was wait. So the four fellows were hanging in the DDX room while House wandered, likely with Wilson or tormenting Cuddy.
Jacob shrugged. He'd spent less than a week with the pair – he was still trying to process it himself. "It's… interesting. Loud, sometimes. Other times it's very peaceful there."
It was about an accurate description as he could come up with. There were many loud, chaotic things in the apartment. House playing a racing game. He and Wilson bantering over dinner. The pots clacking in the sink as Wilson scrubbed aggressively at them. The TV, when House wanted to annoy Wilson. House's guitar amp, cranked up loud, or his speakers pounding out some rock song.
But, there were quiet moments too – peaceful moments. The nights that they'd stay up and watch an old movie, more than likely falling asleep on the couch. The beautiful music House would create at his piano, or guitar with Jacob. Eating a meal together. Even just sitting in the apartment after school when Wilson had picked him up and gone back to work, doing homework at the table before anyone got home. To Jacob, these moments were something new and extraordinary. His home had never been quiet. If his dad wasn't bellowing or staggering about in a drunken haze, he was snoring like a log saw on the couch with the TV blaring. His home had not been quiet since his mother had died.
Foreman scoffed, interrupting Jacob's thoughts. "Peaceful? With House?"
Jacob shrugged. "He's different at home than he is here. I think sometimes he's so rambunctious here… just to annoy you."
Kutner grinned, but Foreman frowned. "Immature."
Jacob just managed to keep himself from smirking. Out of all the fellows, Foreman was the easiest to push the buttons of. From what he'd gathered from the other three and House, Foreman was the second longest running fellow, so one would think he'd have loosened up a bit. Instead, he seemed to have grown more edgy as the years had passed.
Jacob couldn't quite stop himself from smirking at the new thought. "You're a grown man, and you let him get under your skin and manipulate you. Who's the immature one?"
Foreman's gaze suddenly darkened. From the fellow's perspective, it was nothing more that his usual annoyed expression, but to Jacob, it was much deeper than that. In spite of himself, he found that his pulse was speeding up, his skin was growing clammy.
Quickly, he stood up, fumbling to get out the door. "E-excuse me," he forced out as his stomach lurched, hoping he didn't sound too much like a little kid. Suddenly, he wanted House. He needed the comfort and security that the man could offer.
As soon as he was out the door, he picked up his pace until he got to Wilson's office. He knocked on the door, hoping that House was inside.
"Come in," Wilson called, and Jacob opened the door. To his immense relief, House was lounging on the couch, his hands behind his head.
Jacob shut the door behind him and sank into the couch, trying to calm his respirations before either of them noticed. Now that he was away from the 'threat' of Foreman, he knew he had been overreacting. But his body had been trained rather forcibly to react in a certain way to that particular set of facial expressions and body language, and the flight instinct had been too strong.
House, of course, was not one to let go of his emotional state. "What's wrong?" he demanded, sitting up.
Jacob shook his head, trying to take deep breaths. "N-nothing. I'm okay."
House had the closest expression to worry that Wilson had ever seen on his face. "Jacob."
"It's fine. I j-just freaked. It was s-stupid. Just l-let me c-calm down."
He closed his eyes for a moment, hating the stutter that popped up with his adrenaline levels.
House and Wilson exchanged a look. Wilson's face was showing his concern plainly, his eyebrows knitted together. House bit his lip.
"Wilson, can we have a second?" he asked, nearly sounding apologetic. Wilson blinked at being kicked out of his own office, but he quickly realized that this was a moment that House and Jacob needed to share alone. They needed to be able to connect without another pair of eyes watching. So, he picked up his files and hopped the short dividing wall to House's office, letting himself in and ignoring the confused looks from the fellows as he sat down.
"What happened," House demanded again, scooting closer. He was careful to keep his hands in his lap – he'd already learned that Jacob didn't like to be touched when he was in this state.
Jacob blinked hard, looking away. "I'm just being a c-coward."
House winced at Jacob's tone – it was bleak. "All I can ever d-do is run."
House tapped his cane on the ground. "So who scared you?"
Jacob shrugged, wrapping his arms around yourself. "Doesn't matter. They w-weren't going to hurt me."
"But your body reacted like they were going to."
Jacob nodded miserably, shivering. House sighed.
"Jacob, that isn't your fault. That's a survival mechanism. You see an adult that sets off the warning bells in your head, and you can't help it. You get the hell away. That's your brain trying to protect you."
Jacob still refused to look at House.
House looked up at the ceiling, sighing. "When I was younger… just a kid… my dad would fill the tub with ice and force me into it."
Jacob gaped at House in shock. "He… he what?"
"It was pretty hellish. To be pushed down into that, held there. It felt like your whole body was on fire, and the whole time he'd just look at me. Cold."
Jacob was transfixed, his own issues forgotten for the moment.
"When I went away to college," House continued, never taking his eyes off the ceiling, "It had been years since he'd last done it to me, because I'd gotten old enough to fight back just enough to where he couldn't. I was in lacrosse – probably the best player on the team - and we won this huge tournament. And what do the coaches do but pour the ice water jugs all over us."
House closed his eyes for a moment, looking pained.
"I pretty much freaked out right there – my brain told me I was back in the bathroom, being punished, even though I knew I wasn't. I ran to the locker-room, puked my guts out and got in the shower, hot as I could stand it, until I got control of myself."
Jacob's eyes were filled with empathy for House. He saw him as this strong, brave adult – incapable of being hurt. But when House opened up to him like this, he found it easier to accept his own 'faults'.
House finally turned to look at him. "It isn't your fault, Jacob, and that wasn't mine. You aren't being a coward. Your body is engineered to survive as long as possible, and your asshole dad trained it to act this way."
Jacob finally relaxed fully, slumping on the couch. He could feel the adrenaline slipping away, his breathing return to normal.
On impulse, he leaned into House and hugged him. House stiffened in surprise, but, slowly, he let his arms circle Jacob and pat his back gently.
"Thanks," Jacob whispered, his face buried in House's shirt. The contact – gentle, reassuring – was something he desperately needed.
A few moments later, he sighed shakily and leaned back, rubbing his face.
House leaned down over his cane, sending Jacob a sideways glance. "Now. Who scared you?"
Jacob snorted. "Foreman. I said something cheeky and he got all pissed."
House's expression didn't change, but inside he was dealing with an entirely new and foreign protective rage. "Cheeky?"
Jacob smirked, his charming self rapidly replacing the frightened kid that'd been sitting next to House moments ago. "He said you were immature. I told him he was immature for letting you annoy him so much."
House grinned, mussing up Jacob's hair. "Kid, you and me. Together we'll drive Foreman out of the state."
Jacob grinned. "Now," House continued. "You and Wilson should go down to eat something while I finish up this case, so we can go home."
Jacob nodded, and hopped off the couch. House followed him a bit more slowly out the door.
When they got to his office, House eyed Wilson and nodded slightly. Wilson's shoulders relaxed, his eyebrows falling from their previous height.
"You and Jacob go and eat," he suggested, smiling at Wilson slightly to reassure him. "Bring me back something."
Wilson rolled his eyes. "The usual?" he inquired as he walked out the door, Jacob in tow.
House nodded, and his lover and Jacob walked off.
Now that he was alone, House gritted his teeth. He turned to the DDx room and strode in purposefully.
"Kutner, Taub, and Chase, out. Go do something productive. Foreman, stay."
The fellows blinked, confused for a moment. Then, they caught sight of the dangerous expression in House's eyes, and scrambled to comply. The three were out within moments, only Foreman remaining seated.
House walked over to him, tapping his cane on the table lightly. "You freaked him out," he said bluntly, jumping straight to the point.
Foreman looked confused. "Who, Jacob?"
"Yes."
"How? I didn't do anything!"
"Your body language and facial expression triggered something inside of him. You. Freaked. Him. Out."
With each word, House's expression was getting more dangerous.
"He freaked out from an annoyed facial expression?"
House cocked his jaw, looming over Foreman. "His dad was a drunk that beat him on impulse. You think he has a good reason to be afraid of annoyance?"
Suddenly, Foreman was sobered. His eyes widened. "You… you really care about this kid, don't you?"
House gave him a withering look. "Not the freaking point."
Foreman held up his hands. "Okay, okay. I'll watch it around him from now on. Sorry."
House snorted. "Don't just 'watch it'. If you do that to him again, I'll fire you. Watch your temper. I don't give a crap if you're a sullen bitch with me, but if he's around, keep it to your damn self."
Foreman, though a tad worried about his job, couldn't help but be amazed at House's apparent overprotective reaction.
Finally, he looked down, somewhat subdued. His normally huge ego had been docked a bit by House's unusual seriousness. "Got it."
House stared at him for a moment longer, as if assessing his seriousness. Finally, he relaxed slightly. "Good. Now go find something to do. In face, check on the patient. I want to go home."
Foreman complied.
When House turned back to his office, Wilson was sitting in his chair, chomping on a sandwich and eyeing House fondly. Jacob was nowhere to be seen.
House scowled, snatching half of the sandwich. "What?"
"That was adorable," Wilson cooed, smirking.
"Shut up."
Aww. Any suggestions? Leave them in the review section! Any ideas I use, I'll give credit to the reviewer. Just looking for some inspiration...