Consider it disclaimed

"Ugh.." Greg House yawned and ran a hand over his tired, stubble covered face. "What a fantastic day." He slipped off his coat and remembering his house guests, he hung it up in the closet. "Now that just doesn't feel right at all." Sitting on the couch he laid his head back and closed his eyes. Seemed he didn't have the energy for even getting a beer tonight. Not that he would drink with his parents in the house. The overhead light turned on.

"Where have you been? It's quarter til ten at night! You were supposed to come home! You were supposed to call! Now your mother thinks you don't want us here and is all upset because she made went to the grocery story for you and made dinner and you never even showed up. You know Greg, we are only going to be in town for a few days. You can make an effort that long for her. You better at least." An very incensed John glared at his son. How dare Greg show up late without a phone call on one of the few nights his parents would be in town? Case and job be damned family came first!

"Sorry Dad I would have called but I lost track of time and my patient ended up requiring surgery and we had to do a differential tonight to figure out what was wrong or he would have most likely died. I'm sorry Mom went to all that trouble. I'll go apologize and heat some up in just a few minutes. Just have to rest the leg a bit. It's been a very long, very active day." House tiredly replied to his father's rampage with all the excuses he used as a reckless teenager. Forget, didn't have time, the classics really. Not that Daddy Dearest listened to them anyways. Excuses are for lazy asses who spend so much time thinking about why they CAN'T do the job, they don't have the time or energy to actually do the damn thing. That's what Dad always said at least.

"I don't care what your excuses are. Excuses are for lazy asses who spend so much time making up the excuse as to why they can't do the job that they don't even have the time or energy to actually do it. And you don't need to "rest your leg." You're not an invalid and you're not old. Not yet anyways. You are just too lazy. I don't care what you or the doctors say, you can do just as much as everyone else on what they left you of a leg. Not because it shouldn't make a difference in your life, but because I didn't raise no pussies and I am your father and if I say you'll do something you better be damn sure to do it. I'm not giving you a choice on that. Now go heat up some of the dinner your mother fixed and tell her how good it is. Now get off the couch I want to watch the game."

House rolled his eyes and pushed himself to his weary feet.

"Whatever you say."

"Whatever I say...what?" John squinted a bit. Challenging him. Making him say it. Demeaning him. Greg and John were not now, nor would they ever be equals. It's about time Greg realized that too. Everyone else had.

House tensed his jaw and looked around the room. Anywhere but at his father. He swallowed hard.

"Whatever you say...sir."

"That's better boy. Guess it's been so long you went and forgot your manners. You forgot how to treat your elders...your betters. You know...James came to eat with us. He has always treated us better than you. Hell he doesn't even live here and he made it to dinner on time. You should be more like him. Maybe then you could fool some broad into getting married to you and giving your mother some grandbabies. You know she loves babies."

House didn't bother mentioning Wilson came by because he was, yet again sleeping on his couch. The only reason he didn't stay the night was because House never showed up and he was NOT about to explain the situation to House's parents. No way in hell.

"Yeah Dad, I know she loves babies. But I don't know if I want to get married or not. I'm not exactly the easiest person to live with."

"Marriage isn't about happiness or being easy to live with. It's about carrying on the human race and looking good to the rest of the world. You just look sorry. Why don't you shave? Walking around looking scraggly and homeless. Your mother and I raised you better."

House just looked at his father, mouth slightly gaped. Didn't he know Blythe was most likely listening from the shadows and heard every word he said about marriage? Not even House was that careless with his words. Not that callous. Didn't he care? If not about him then at least about his own wife.

"Stop staring at me like a gutted fish and go eat. Your mother thinks you are too thin. You just don't have any muscle to you is all."

"Whatever you say sir." House bit out at his father. Anything to make this conversation. If not for his own sake, then for his mother. He headed for the kitchen as John flipped through the television channels trying to find the game he wanted.

When he got to the kitchen there was a steaming plate of food on the table and his mother was leaning against the counter, head slightly lowered. Her shoulders quivered just a bit.

"Smells great Mom...Mom? You ok?" House looked worriedly at his mother...he was no good in these situations...crying women of any age were just not his thing.

Blythe turned and looked at her son. There was a hint of sadness in her eyes but no tears. Hearing his father mutter about a bad play in the living room, House realized just how strong his mother was.

"Of course darling, I'm fine." She sat in the chair across from the place she had set up for House and motioned for him to sit with her. "Greg sweety...I think we need to talk about your father...what makes him the way he is. It might make things easier for you both. I know we should have gone over this long ago but...well I think we all kept hoping he would change even though we knew he never would. House sat.

"When John was a boy...well you know how his mother, your grandmother passed. That horrible car accident when your father was just a little thing. He never really recovered from it...I've seen the newspaper report and even in black and white...so much blood. Just looked like everything was shadowed over. It was on him and his face and his clothes...just everywhere. Well, Grandpa George, your father's father, he blamed John for the accident. Seems to think he distracted his mother and caused her to wreck. And he made no bones about it. He...well he disciplined John the way John disciplined you...maybe not to the extent John took it but...it was physical. So of course, John thought that was the way to do things. Eat your beans darling. You know Grandpa George remarried quite a few times...none of the marriages were healthy relationships but that wasn't the point. George was lonely. And of course once again, your father learned nothing about love. He doesn't know how. With his father moving him around so much, the only examples he had of how to be with someone were those of how his father treated women. There's another thing we never told you...when I had you...there were some complications. Something about too much blood loss or something. I'm not sure...I was pretty out of it. But I know I almost didn't make it. Your father was terrified. Yes he blames you like his father blamed him. It's not right and it's not fair but it isn't his fault. Not with the way his fool of a father raised him. Just like it's not your fault. Wipe your chin sweety. So all I'm saying is...before you hate him for the rest of your life...take all this into account. Remember what he's been through, not just what he put you through. Ok honey?"

She touched his cheek. House laid down his fork.

"I make no promises. But...I guess...thanks...for telling me...and stuff." He muttered under his breath. House doubted he would ever forgive his father. John House was an ass. More than an ass. It shouldn't matter what made him the way he is...all that should matter is he let himself fall. He heard his father yell from the living room...

"TOUCHDOWN!"