Not mine...whatever.
There IS a bit of swearing in this chapter but it's not too bad.
He took in the sight before him. His father leaning heavily on a table cupping his own cheek and staring at Wilson, his best friend cradling what looked like an injured hand to his chest and red in the face, and his mother, pressed against the wall, eyes closed and hands clasped over her mouth.
"Hmmm...guess I missed a lot." The color drained from his face and his entire body tensed up but he tried to keep his cool as he took off his jacket and set his bag in the closet. "Wanna fill me in?"
"You...you bastard! What the hell were you thinking running to your little friend that happened over 30 years ago?! Did you think I wouldn't find out?! Do you remember what I said if you told anyone? What I said I would do?" John stood and started slowly walking towards House.
"Dad come on I-"
"Shut up! Don't call me Dad! No son of mine would go running for help so long after the fact."
"I didn't go running for help I just...I was trying to explain to him."
"Explain? What is there to explain? You were MY kid and it was MY responsibility to discipline you! End of story!" By now John was right in House's face and House was indeed feeling like a child again. But it ended now. He was a grown man.
"So what? You gonna kill me and mom like you said? Gonna make it look like an accident? Come on John we're both too old for this. Just go watch the game and drink some more."
"Don't you...ever...ever call me by my name again boy...show some god damn respect!" He pulled back his fist and swung at his now adult son. Flesh of flesh connected and and knuckle knocked bone it seemed the whole world went silent. House fell back, his shoulder connecting with the door and a flashback of when he was little crossed his mind.
I'm sorry Daddy! I didn't mean to!
Who said you could play with my slippers?! Those aren't toys and they aren't yours! Snatching them from the young boys hands he used them to strike little Greg across the cheek, knocking his head into the wall.
Adult Greg shook the memory from his mind and stood straight and just looked at his father. Wilson made a move to stop this but a single glance from House and he stopped. This wasn't his fight.
"I'm not going to hit you Dad."
John grasped him by his arm and the sore shoulder that hit the door and slung him further into the room, knocking his slender frame off balance.
"Damn straight you ain't gonna hit me! You're just gonna take it like a man and learn your lesson the hard way. It's the only way you ever did learn a god damn thing in your entire life. Why should it be different now that you're getting old?" He leaned over his son who was now supporting himself on the couch.
"What lesson am I supposed to learn here Dad??! All you ever taught me was how to hit and get hit! How to not talk to people and not complain about anything! What good does that do? Now I'm too scared to have kids because I might be the same as you! And I can't find a wife because I can't trust! What have you taught me that was worth anything old man?"
That was it for John. He swung again. House's body rolled over the couch. Wilson and Blythe watched in slow motion and they saw House's bad leg connect harshly with the corner of the coffee table and heard a sickening thud as his head banged against the floor.
Wilson immediately picked up the phone and John just stood there staring as Blythe ran to get a cold cloth to clean the small trickle of blood coming from just above his temple. Holding the phone between his ear and shoulder, Wilson leaned down and grasped House under the arms. Instantly worried about how light he was, he carefully lifted his friend onto the couch. Hanging up the phone, he didn't say a word. He just watched and Blythe wiped his unconscious friend's forehead and murmured comforting words even though everyone knew he couldn't hear them. It made him sick to wonder just how many times those soft hands caressed House's unconscious face over the years. Glancing at John, Wilson noticed his hands were still clenched in fists of rage, but realized it had all drained from his face. It seemed that instead of holding anger, they were holding him back. From what, Wilson didn't know. But it didn't really matter anymore. Picking up the phone once more he dialed Cuddy to give her a heads up.
"I'm coming in with House in the ER. I don't know if we'll need it but have an OR prepped and he'll need stitches. I'll fill you in when we get there."
Hanging up once more, Wilson turned his attention to House as the three waited for the ambulance to arrive. The air was heavy and all eyes were on House.
Guess he stole the attention away again John.