Ba-bam! Update!

House's cell phone rang, the normal ring indicating an unfamiliar number. He broke off in the middle of the differential to glance at it.

Frowning at the local area code, he answered. "Dr. House," he said gruffly.

"Uh, hello, Dr. House. This is Principle Gillian from Willowbrook High, your child's school?"

The woman on the other side of the line seemed unsure of herself, put off by his gruff tone.

House stood up, gesturing to the ducklings to continue as he walked into his office.

"Okay. Why are you calling?"

Outwardly, he sounded a bit impatient, but inwardly, he was already running possible explanations through his head.

"I'm just calling to inform you that Jacob was caught fighting today at school."

House's mind rushed through a million responses. Surprisingly, the first out of his mouth was, "Is he okay?"

"He's alright. He's got a few bruises and a cut on his forehead, but nothing serious."

House relaxed, surprised at himself. He hadn't even realized he was worried.

"I'm calling to tell you that a mandatory meeting is in order to discuss his behavior, today if possible."

House swallowed. How was he supposed to deal with this sort of thing? If only Wilson could go – but then again, Wilson wasn't technically Jacob's guardian.

"Would you like to set up a time?" the woman asked, taking his silence for acceptance.

House shook himself. "I can be there in…" he glanced at the whiteboard, "Thirty minutes."

The woman sounded surprised. "Oh. Well, alright. Jacob is in the nurse's office right now."

"Where's the other kid?" House demanded suddenly.

"He's in the office as well. They both will be until a punishment is worked out."

House frowned. "Fine."

He snapped the phone shut, turning back into the DDX room. "Well, kiddies, duty calls. Run an EKG and poke him till something happens. I'll be back in a few hours."

The fellows watched, perplexed, as House rapidly limped away.

"Duty?" Taub questioned, glancing at the other three. "What does that mean?"

"Probably the kid," Chase answered briefly.

Taub looked supremely confused. "Kid? What kid?"

The three of them shared a look.

House walked into Wilson's office without knocking. "Jacob got into a fight," he announced unceremoniously.

Wilson looked up in shock from the file he'd been scribbling in. "What? At school?"

"Yes, at school. The principle wants me up there to discuss it. I need parental advice. What would a responsible adult say?"

Wilson was still in slight shock. "How did Jacob get into a fight? He doesn't seem like he could even…"

House shook his head. "Not the point. What do I do here Wilson?"

Wilson rubbed the back of his neck. "Well obviously you can't be too hard on him…"

"Obviously…"

"And you need to hear his side before anything…"

"Well, duh…"

"Don't embarrass him, but don't act like he isn't going to be punished… be stern, but not angry…"

House looked frustrated. "This is stupid," he admonished, standing up. "I'm going and I'm gonna play it by ear."

Wilson stared at him as he walked out. "Good luck," he said to the empty doorway.

House called Cuddy on his way out of the hospital. "I have to go somewhere for a few hours," he said, feeling that the least he could do was let her know after disappearing so often the last week. "I have to take care of something at Jacob's school."

Cuddy suppressed a sigh. He hadn't exactly asked politely, but at least he'd let her know. "Okay. Let me know when you're back."

He hung up and pulled out of the parking lot, making the drive to Jacob's school in tense silence. How was he supposed to react to this? He had no experience in the area of parenting. His dad was obviously no example – the times he'd fought in school had ended badly if he'd won, worse if he'd lost. And Jacob was probably already expecting some horrible punishment, with what he'd had to deal with from his father.

House closed his eyes briefly, sighing. Why had the kid been fighting anyway? Wilson had said that Jacob was worried about being bullied. Had another kid started it, or had Jacob thrown the first punch? House knew it probably shouldn't have mattered to him, but it did. He'd never started a fight in school without a good reason.

He pulled into the school's parking lot, limping out of the car. Unlucklily enough for him, the school was in passing period, and he attracted many a whispering stare as he took the short walk to the office. Obviously, the rumor of Jacob's new guardian had gotten around with the gossip that a fight brought.

The first thing he saw was another, much larger kid sitting in a chair with an icepack on his nose, his other arm crossed over his chest. He narrowed his eyes at the kid – he looked like a bully. Already, he was giving Jacob the benefit of the doubt.

"Dr. House," he said, when the receptionist gave him a questioning gaze. "Here for Jacob Darning."

The kid sitting in the chair was watching him sharply as he waited, and House turned to meet his gaze silently. After a moment, the kid looked away, trying to be nonchalant.

Principle Gillian soon waddled her way out of an office, delaying any plans he had to "accidentally" cane the kid. She gestured to him with a pump arm to follow her. He complied, wondering what in the hell he was supposed to be doing.

She stuck her head in what he supposed was the nurse's office, telling Jacob to come on out and follow her.

House tried not to overreact at the sight of a bandage on Jacob's forehead and a bruise already forming around it. Jacob refused to meet his gaze, gulping and staring at the ground with pallor to his skin.

House swallowed. The kid looked like he was preparing to get hit. As the corpulent principle waddled in front of them, he lightly brushed Jacob's shoulder.

Jacob flinched, eyes widening, away from House's hand, and House looked at him sadly. Embarrassed, Jacob blushed furiously and tried not to cry, blinking back tears. "Sorry," he whispered, the word catching in his throat.

House shook his head, trying to look clam, and Jacob relaxed slightly. He'd have to watch that – unexpected touching when the kid was stressed was a bad move. Slowly, he reached out, while Jacob was watching him, and squeezed his shoulder for reassurance.

They sat down in the office, Jacob perching on the end of his chair like he was preparing to make a run for it. House spun his cane back and forth, impatient to get started.

The principle seemed to sense his irritation, and launched into speech. "I had a coach report to me earlier today that Jacob and another student were having a physical altercation outside of the library. From the injuries and what they've told me, it's obviously true."

She paused, and when he continued to say nothing, continued. "We have a zero tolerance policy here at school. The best case scenario is three days of in school suspension, or detention. The worst case is suspension for the week. I would be going a lot harder on you, Jacob, but this is the first time you've ever broken school rules. You've been a good kid up until this point."

House looked at Jacob curiously. "Why were you fighting?" he asked, but gently. He was freaked out enough as it was; he didn't need either of them jumping down his throat and demanding an explanation.

Jacob looked down, swallowing. "He started it."

"Elaborate," House said shortly, to the point.

"I don't want to talk about this," he whispered, pale in the face. By this point, he was hugging his knees, his face turned sideways. House could see more than a trace of panic in his eyes.

"Jacob," the principle said firmly, her little lips pressed together. "What you tell us may change your punishment. I'm prepared to give you the benefit of the doubt on this – you have no history, he does. But you can't think that staying silent will help you."

Experienced as he was with years of lies and cover stories, he was able to look her in the face when he lied. "He tripped me, and was making fun of me," he said, leaving the shots at House out of it. "And he pulled me back after I tried to walk away, and I just… snapped."

He stopped short at saying he was sorry – because he wasn't. Not at all. Garret deserved that punch in the nose, and a lot more for that matter. But he didn't want to tell either of them the reason he'd blown up – because Garret had been making fun of House.

House, of course, could see the deception as clear as day on Jacob's face. Something was up, something the kid didn't want to say. But House was prepared to wait. There was no reason to make the kid talk in front of the stupid assistant principle.

Unlike House, the principle seemed to accept his answer without question. "Well. I think that a few days of ISS will be enough. I don't want to see this kind of fighting again, Jacob. Unacceptable, no matter what your reasoning is."

She looked at him, then at House. "Jacob, could you go in the hallway and give Dr. House and me a moment please?" she asked, already moving on.

Jacob looked mildly sick, but he nodded and backed out, closing the door behind him.

The woman looked House up and down. "I understand that you are fostering Jacob," she said, her voice even but sharp. It sounded like a well practiced tone.

House nodded, pushing down his irritation with the woman.

The woman continued. "I hope you'll be a good influence in his life. This is the first time, like I said, that he's ever even made a blip on the system. Please help him to make the right choices," she said sweetly, but House could see the barb at his skills as a guardian under her words.

He wasn't about to be trifled with. "I'm sure you mean well," he said back, just as sweetly, "But the kid that mine punched in the nose deserved to have the shit beat out of him, and you know it. Furthermore, I'd rather Jacob stand up for himself than be trampled, which is obviously what you and your staff have been allowing."

He leaned in on his cane, his tone even but his posture aggressive. "If I get any reports from him – any at all – that he is being bullied or unfairly treated, and no staff is bothering to get off their asses and do something about it, there will be hell to pay."

The woman blinked rapidly, stunned into silence. Her mouth was formed into a little "o".

"And another thing?" House added as he stood, unable to resist. "I'm taking Jacob home today, where he'll give me the full story. And that will be his only punishment – he doesn't need one from you. The kid's had a shitty life up until this point and he doesn't need you making it any more difficult. So there will be no detention. And from what you've told me, the other kid had better be out of school for at least a week. He obviously instigated it and has apparently done so in the past. If I hear that the correct path was not taken, I'll be having a long talk with the school board."

Without pausing to hear her response, he limped out the door and jerked his head at Jacob, who was sitting on the chair outside. His argument would have made Cuddy proud.

"Come on kid," he said. "We're going to the hospital for the rest of the day."

Jacob got up and followed him meekly, his hands shaking slightly. He shoved them in his pockets.

As House signed him out at the front office, Jacob caught Garrets eye for half a moment. The boy glared at Jacob, quickly making a threatening, throat slitting gesture while the secretary was otherwise occupied.

Jacob stiffened, and House turned to look at him. The boy was looking down, hands in his pockets and face pale, his mouth pressed together in a thin line.

Narrowing his eyes, House turned around. Garret stared at him boldly.

House struggled not to snarl at the little asshole. Instead, he walked forward, and with a simple placement of his cane smashed Garret's foot.

The boy howled immediately, shouting a curse word. "Watch it!" he yelled.

"Oh, so sorry," House sneered, his tone apologetic but his face angry. From what the secretary could see and hear, it had been an honest mistake, but Garret's point of view was terrifying. House was looming over him, making him feel tiny and defenseless. "I'm so clumsy with this thing sometimes. I could whack someone across the head and not notice!"

Garret paled, leaning back, and House smirked. He limped out the door without another word, leaving Garret blinking and trying to calm his heart rate down, confused as to why he was so terrified of someone he'd just been belittling.

House snapped the door shut, waiting for Jacob to do the same. There was a long few minutes of silence as House pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road.

"So, what's the real story?" he asked, breaking the stalemate. Jacob stiffened, looking away.

House spared him a glance. "Jacob," he said. "I'm not mad. Wilson won't be mad."

Jacob swallowed, darting his eyes to look at House. The doctor looked totally calm, his muscles relaxed, his face showing no hint of the anger he'd seen so often from his father. "You aren't?" he asked quietly, his voice small and not quite hopeful.

"No. I think the kid deserved it. He looked like a little prick."

Jacob snorted, finally relaxing a smidge. His muscles un-tensed just a bit, the flight instinct he'd been fighting easing.

"You were right to stand up for yourself. Kid's been bothering you for a long time?"

Jacob glanced at House, startled, and said, "Yeah."

"Well you were going to snap eventually."

House looked at Jacob out of the corner of his eye. Yep, the kid was still not telling him something.

"What I have to wonder, though," House continued, his voice nonchalant, "is what really set you off. He found a button, am I right?"

Jacob clenched his fists, angry at the mere thought of Garret's taunts.

"So, what did he say?"

The kid sighed, trying to calm himself down. To tell, or not to tell?

"Come on," House pressed.

"You," Jacob burst out, swallowing and looking away from House. "He was making fun of you. Your cane."

House was stunned. Not by the little prick's taunts, but by Jacob's reaction to them.

"Jacob," he said, after a moment. "… I'm not someone to get in a fight over."

Jacob looked at him, wetness in his eyes. "Yeah, you are! You know what you've done for me? And to have him – belittle you, call you names – I couldn't just let him do that. Making fun of me is one thing."

House was at a loss. Of all the thing's he would have considered, this was not one of them.

How did he react to this? On one hand, it was a stupid thing to fight over. On another, it was an incredibly loving gesture.

"Listen," he said finally. "You may be a fan of mine because I took you out of a bad situation. That doesn't mean I'm a good person. In fact, I'm kind of a bastard. I don't mind you defending yourself, but I'm not something that's worth getting detention over."

Jacob said nothing for a long moment. Finally, he spoke up. "Do you know how my dad would have reacted to this?" he asked, his voice monotone.

"He wouldn't have asked questions. He wouldn't have asked to hear my side of the story, wouldn't have cared what my reasoning was even if he had. He would have gotten the call at home, and wouldn't have bothered to show up at the school. Eventually they would have let me go home, and then I'd have gotten the shit beat out of me as soon as I walked in the door, for causing him some little inconvenience. Then, as soon as I could get to the phone, I would have to call in and pretend like my dad couldn't come to meet, but he preferred that I get suspended for the rest of the week so that I could be punished. I'd have to do that to let some of the bruises heal before I went back to school. On top of that, I'd be out in the city for most of the day so couldn't continue to hit me whenever he hit the right level of drunk. Then, as soon as I could, I'd go back to school and pretend like nothing happened and keep my head down like I always have."

It was the largest consecutive amount of words that House had ever heard Jacob utter – and he wasn't done.

"You are a good person. Don't tell me different."

House swallowed. Some of the things Jacob had told him had struck deeply – they were similar to the things his dad had done to him. Though, House's dad hadn't been a drunk – he'd planned everything, every cold act that had shaped his son into what he was today.

"Alright," he conceded, after a moment. In comparison to Jacob's description, anyone could look like an angel.

The rest of the ride to the hospital was in silence. House was busy contemplating Jacob's words, and Jacob was busy contemplating House's reaction. By the time they pulled into the parking lot, House had figured it out.

"Standing up for someone you care about isn't wrong," he said, his tone even, "But next time, control your temper. Think of a way you can beat the person – but without your fists. You're smart. Use your words. Sometimes that hurts more than a punch anyway."

It wasn't the perfect parenting idea, but it was better than fighting. Jacob nodded slowly, a thoughtful look on his face.

House was very familiar with the idea that words could hurt more that physical violence. His father had belittled him so much as a child – and as an adult, for that matter – that he'd grown to believe it. He'd never hit Wilson, but he sure as hell had hurt him with his words. Sometimes a poisonous voice could hit you harder than a fist.

"That can't be taken too far either, but we'll talk about that later," House finished, shrugging. He grinned at Jacob suddenly, wishing the kid would stop looking so serious.

"Looked like you got him pretty good in the nose anyway," he snickered, winking.

Jacob smiled faintly, nodding. "Then again, he got me quite a few more times," he added, pointing to his head.

House scoffed. "Idiot. Who punches someone in their forehead? Bet you his hand is mighty sore."

Jacob grinned at the thought.

House suddenly looked serious. "We should probably check that out, though," he added, ever cautious when it came to the care of those he cared about. "With the concussion you had a few days ago, any head injury could get serious."

Jacob didn't look worried, but he nodded, more than willing to placate his guardian. Thinking of Wilson, he frowned.

"What's Wilson going to say?" he worried quietly, following House as he hitched his backpack over his shoulder and limped into the hospital.

House shrugged. "I don't know. Any time I got into a bar fight he spent about half the time worrying about me and asking frantic questions, and the other half calling me an idiot. He'll probably leave out the idiot part for you, though."

Jacob furrowed his brow. House, in a bar fight? He couldn't picture it. "Did you… often… get into bar fights?"

House shrugged, willing to be open with Jacob. He'd certainly been open with House. "Yeah. I wasn't usually thinking clearly at the time. But when your leg feels like something is chewing on it, getting punched in the face makes you feel something else for a while. I'd just hang out in a bar and annoy some poor moron till he lost it."

House rubbed his nose, remembering the various altercations. "Not the best pain management technique."

Jacob snorted. "Doesn't sound like a good one, anyway."

House shook his head. "I'll tell you about some of them sometime – a few of them are actually pretty funny. But right now, you get to let Wilson get on your case.

As if summoned, Wilson appeared. He'd been hovering in the lobby for the last twenty minutes, waiting for House to come back. He just about lost it when he saw Jacob, and the bandage on his face.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded, ushering Jacob into the clinic and into an empty room. House followed, amused, and waved to Cuddy as he passed her office.

Wilson was already flashing a pen light into Jacob's eyes, beating House to the chase. "No concussion, thank God. Are you feeling okay? Does your head hurt?"

Jacob looked a bit overwhelmed at the questions raining down on him. "Uh… not really… I mean, kinda…"

Wilson was rubbing the back of his neck, a gesture normally reserved for House. "Anywhere else? Bruises, cuts?"

Jacob shook his head. House leaned over his cane, resting his chin on it as he watched Wilson hover like a bee. His lover was whipping himself into a frenzy.

None too gently, House hooked his cane around Wilson's arm and tugged. "Wilson, calm down. He's fine. You're overreacting."

Wilson turned to House, as if to say something, but then closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. "Right. Okay."

He opened his eyes, turning to Jacob. "You're fine."

It sounded like a statement, but he was obviously looking for reassurance. "Yes," Jacob said, after a moment. He was. Garret was nothing - a mosquito bite - in comparison to his father.

"And… was there a good reason for this fight?" he asked slowly, trying not to sound aggressive.

Jacob looked to House for an answer, and House nodded. "Defending someone he thinks is pretty awesome, that's all," he half joked, but the reassuring nod he gave Wilson let him know that Jacob wasn't really in the wrong. "Kid was a bully. Had it coming to him."

Wilson leaned his head back, smiling. It seemed like House had already taken care of this little aspect of parenting. "Well, as long as you're alright, and were just defending yourself, I'm okay."

Jacob nodded, finally calming down for the first time since Garret had tripped him. His guardians had done well – they'd handled him in a mature, calm way, for the most part. He didn't feel afraid. He didn't feel like one of them was going to snap and smack him across the face, as his father often had. He felt… loved.

And that's all a kid ever wants to feel, is loved.

Next is some interaction between the fellows and Jacob.