Chapter 26
The drive to his parents was long and boring, he had to stop on more than one occasion to stretch his legs, and rest his right thigh. He hated trips, that was probably why he rarely took one. When he was healthy and did not have to worry about his leg, he loved traveling. Never use to staying anywhere for long, from his childhood of endless moves, he loved exploring new places. With a thigh muscle missing in one leg, it made traveling more of a pain, so he just stopped.
He finally arrived at his parent's house at ten that night, the Clash blaring on the car stereo to keep him awake. They were both still awake when he knocked on the door, his father answered with his mother behind him.
"How was your trip son?"
"It was ok." House said dragging his bag in behind him.
"Are you hungry?" His mother asked.
"Not really."
"I'll make you something. I saved you a plate, shouldn't take long to heat it up. Go put your stuff in your room, and I'll have the food ready."
"Blythe give the man a break." John said smiling at his wife.
"It's fine dad." House said somber. Both his parents noticed their sons mood.
When House returned from dropping his bag off in his room he walked into the kitchen, his mother and father were sitting at the table. His father had a beer sitting open for his son on the table next to the plate of food his mother heated up.
"We are happy that you are visiting." Blythe said smiling at her son as he sat down at the table.
"How did you get off on such short notice?" His father asked.
"I just finished a case and I have a lot of vacation time. The hospital is probably throwing a party that I'm gone." House said forcing a smile on his face because the worry in his mothers eyes.
House ate the food, it tasted good, but he just wasn't hungry. Eventually he reverted to moving the food around on his plate while he listened to his mother and his father relate what had happened in their lives the past month.
"Did you bring your guitar like I asked?" House's father asked him as Blythe was cleaning off her sons dish, not making a comment about the little her son ate.
"Yeah it's in the car." House said, "I couldn't get it in with my bag."
"I'll go get it for you. I'll move your car into the driveway too." John said holding his hand out for his son to give him his keys.
"I can get it dad."
"No it's fine. I need to take the garbage out. You rest."
"Thanks." House said handing his dad his car keys.
"It is nice to have both of the men in my life here." Blythe said walking up to her son and giving him a hug. "I've missed you."
"I missed you too mom." House said hugging her tightly. He wanted his mother, it felt strange to him, to admit that he wanted his mother. He would never admit it to anyone, but he really just wanted his mom right now. She had a way of making him feel like everything would be ok.
"I'm going to bed. Early morning going out with some of the girls for breakfast. That'll mean you and your father will have to fend for yourself."
"I'm sure we can manage." House said. "Good night mom."
"Night son."
House walked into the living room, his second beer of the night in his hand, he sat down at the couch. His father must have been watching CNN when he arrived because that was what was still on the T.V. It did not matter, House wasn't planning on watching it. He just wanted to sit there and be, not think, not move, not be anything at all, just breathing. Existing on the minimums standard.
His father walked into the living room carrying his son guitar in it's case. Sitting it down he took a seat on the couch next to his son.
"I talked with some of the guys and if you feel up to it, we are having a meeting at the VFW later this week, and I thought you might play there?" John House said looking at his son, "I know how much you like to play, and the guys got tired of me bragging, they don't' believe me that you are as good as you are. But this is if you want to. If not it's fine."
"No I can do it." House said, he hated playing for crowds now, with his leg it changed everything.
"We even have a piano at the hall. It will only be about ten people. Just a small group here. But it's fine means less politics." John said noticing how sad his son looked. "What has been going on in your life?"
"Not much." House said his head leaning back against the couch, his eyes closed.
"You say that every time." John said getting frustrated his son was not opening up to him. He was doing what the therapist had told him and it wasn't working. Maybe he was expecting too much too fast.
"It is what I've been up to. Solving medical mysteries, and living my life."
"How is Dr. Cuddy?"
"I don't know."
"Well your mother told me you two were seeing each other." John said, clearly not having been caught up on his sons love life.
"Where did she hear that from?" House asked confused about how the news would have reached his mother.
"Probably your friend James. They talk sometimes."
House rolled his eyes, he would have to yell at Wilson about minding his own business. He knew his mom had to have a spy, "Well it's over now."
"What happened? It sounded like you two were happy together."
"I screwed up." House said the hurt was clear in his voice, he wasn't sure why he was telling his father the truth.
"Did you try to apologize?" John House asked he knew his son was too stubborn sometimes to admit he was wrong, something he must have learned from his father.
"No. It wouldn't fix anything. I told her I couldn't love her." House said, "It is what is better anyways. She got hurt early on before it would hurt too much."
"What about you?"
"I'll get over it eventually." House said, "Anyways she's moved on."
"Is that why you are here? Don't get me wrong, your mother and I are happy you are visiting, but if you are here because you don't want to deal with her, that might not be the best option."
House did not say anything to his father for a few minutes, "I'm tired, I'm going to go get some rest."
"Ok son." John said not pushing his son, the therapist had told him not to push. Just be there gentle, and ask questions when his son would not open to him, but never push for answers. So far he thought he was doing a good job, at least he was trying now. "You want to get breakfast in the morning? There is a good restaurant the Moose Hut, has the best pancakes ever."
"Sure." House said grabbing his guitar and going to his room.
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Cuddy listened to the phone ring, and allowed her answering machine to pick it up. She was at home and for once she did not want to be disturbed by anything. Anything short of the hospital burning down would not get her out of the house. Curled up on the couch with a beer in her hand, leftover from when House was with her. The stereo playing still could not block the voice from the answering machine.
"Hey Lisa it's Rick from the other night. I had a really good time. I wanted to see if you wanted to go out again? I got tickets to a play this Friday night. Call me back."
Cuddy had no intention of ever going out with that man again. She had fun, but he just was not what she wanted. No one was what she wanted. What she wanted, even she was not sure of anymore. House leaving was an interesting topic for her brain to run around with. He had no right to be hurt that she went out with someone else. The bastard was the one who ended the relationship, not her. She had every right to date someone, and yet it bothered her how hurt House had to be to make him leave.
It did not help that the radio seemed to be out to get to her. The adult music station was out to get her, specifically. Every song seemed to be about the end of a relationship, god did people sing about anything else? And than as if it weren't enough Maroon 5's song Harder to Breath came on the radio. Of course it would, just when she thought she might rest for the night a song had to come on to remind her of House. The bastard he was.
She wanted to strangle him, what had scared him away? Was it because she told him she loved him? Could she have said it was a mistake in a moment of passion, she did not really love him? Moreover, why did he always have to be right? Today Cuddy had to deal with the wrath of the mother he had pissed off earlier that week. The mother who's daughter was in fact pregnant, three months pregnant. That had not been a fun conversation, but she did find out that House wrote the letter, which meant Cameron probably did it, and he did in fact call the woman, like Cuddy had ordered him to.
She felt bad now, that she had allowed her feelings to get in the way of her judgment. She had tried to find ways to fire House, she really had asked Stacey to research it. He knew, that was probably why he did what she asked. She never let her emotions take the reigns, not like she did with House. The thought that she had actually wanted to fire him because he hurt her because it made no sense to fire him for the way he acted at work. He had always acted like that, it wasn't until he had hurt her, that it bothered her enough to want him gone. She would not say she was sorry, but she would not threaten his job again, it was not fair to him.
Fuck she hated him, he acted like a coward and she ended up feeling bad because she threatened him. Only House could make someone he hurt feel guilty. Fuck this, she thought getting up she grabbed her phone and dialed Rick's number, you only live once and she was tired of waiting on House to decide he wanted to be happy, that he felt like he had the right to be happy.
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House stayed up that night, turning the light off in his room so everyone would think he was asleep and leave him alone. The moon shining through the window was enough light to allow him to play his guitar. Strumming the strings softly making the quietest sounds come from the guitar. Sometimes, most days actually, House hated himself. Whether it is the weakness he lives with everyday, the inability to be normal, or the fact that he is too scared, Cuddy had been right, to allow himself to love someone else. He was too scared to be happy because once you are happy all it takes is one person to rip that happiness from you. When you are a miserable old bastard, no one could take that from you. Happiness was fleeting, and something he was not sure if he was deserving of. Love he knew he did not deserve. This train of thought continued throughout the night, the sun rising telling him he better try to sleep his dad would be in to wake him soon.
John House heard the noise coming from the guest room. A part of him wanted to go to his son, but that was wrong. Men did not need comfort, and his son was a man. Why couldn't his son be like Sarah's kids? They were all happy, had families, maybe not successful career wise, but was that all that mattered? No, his son was miserable on good days and had no one besides Wilson. Why couldn't Greg have a family and be happy? It made it difficult to brag about him at Christmas time, when all he had was his job.
When John woke the next morning he decided not to wake his son for breakfast. Instead, he went to work on a bookshelf he promised one of Blyth's sisters grandchildren. When noon came around and Greg was still not awake John felt like marching into the room and throwing his son out of the bed, but that would only cause them to fight, and he had promised himself to avoid fighting with his son, not on this trip. He was trying to change, he was really trying, why couldn't Greg try and change some too? Meet him halfway?
It was one o'clock when House finally woke up, stretching on the bed he reached over and opened his pill bottle. Downing two pills he lay in the bed waiting for them to dull the pain enough so he could get out of bed. Moving slowly he heard voices outside in the back yard. Yawning he scratched his head, as he limped into the kitchen, using his cane to aid him.
Opening the fridge he heard the voices approaching the house, they would be entering the backdoor that was in the kitchen. House poured a cup of orange juice and was drinking it when the door opened.
John House and someone House did not know walked into the kitchen.
"Look who finally decided to wake up." John House said smiling at his son, despite the venom in his voice.
"Where is mom?"
"Still out." John answered, "You probably don't remember but this is your cousin Bobby? You two would play together when we visited your Aunt Sarah when you were a kid."
"Nice to see you again Greg." Bobby said holding his hand out to shake House's.
"Yeah." House said not shaking the mans hand, but instead downing the rest of the orange juice in the glass.
John House glared at his son, "You mom invited Bobby and his family over for dinner tonight. Your Aunt Sarah is in town early, the women are out shopping for dinner."
"I was going to…"
"Nowhere" John said allowing his anger to flare up some, "Your mother wants you at this dinner."
"If you'll excuse me I'll go get ready." House limped off towards his room trying not to seem too much like a petulant child, but his father always seemed to make him feel less of a man and more of a child.
Truth be told Bobby wasn't sure what his cousin was like, he had never really spent time with the man nor the child. When Greg and his parents visited, Greg usually kept to himself, occasionally he would play with Bobby and his siblings but mostly he just kept to himself. The last time they actually spent any time together was over twenty years ago when Greg was still in medical school.
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