Like Father, Like Son

Chapter 11

House pulled his old beater to the side of the road and retrieved the necessary information from his wallet and the glove box. Given the hour, the cop walking up to the car was in shadow and House put down his window without bothering to note the officer's appearance.

"House, we meet again." The voice was immediately recognizable and House couldn't have been less amused.

"Tritter." House passed his information through the window, without making eye contact. He wasn't interested in making excuses or giving Tritter any reason to detain him any longer than necessary.

Tritter took the information and looked through the window to the passenger in the other seat. "He a little young for you, isn't he, House?

"This is my son, Greg. Greg, Officer Tritter."

"It's nice to meet you, sir." replied Greg, respectfully.

"I don't recall you having a son, House."

"He's a new addition to my life."

"I guess. Some bimbo from your past caught up to you, huh?"

"My mom wasn't some bimbo, take it back!" had come out of Greg's mouth before House had a chance to stop him.

"His mom was a musician who lost her life in Katrina doing rescue work; a little respect for the dead, Tritter."

Again, Tritter looked through the window at the boy. House figured that he was checking for some indication that the boy was not being held against his will or a child prostitute. "Greg, do you carry any ID?"

"No, sir, homeschooled kids don't have picture IDs like public and private school kids. I have a library card with my name and address on it, though…well, my name anyway."

House hoped that Greg's words didn't sound as lame to Tritter as they did to him. The next order of business would be to get Greg a picture ID. He wondered if Greg had his birth certificate and social security card in his backpack back at the apartment….

"House!" Tritter's voice jolted House out of his thoughts.

"Um…what?" responded House figuring that now Tritter would think he was on something.

"He seems like a nice kid."

"Yeah, he is. Sorry, I was just thinking that I needed to get Greg an ID and wondering if he brought the stuff he needed for that."

"I don't really need to see anything. He has your eyes, your build, he's yours. Slow down and put your kid to bed, it's late." Tritter handed House's information back to him.

House nodded as he put his driver's license back in his wallet and stuck the rest back in the glove box. "Thanks."

"Make him get a haircut before you get that ID for him."

"I think he likes it that way."

"Yeah, I guess they do at that age. I've kept tabs on you and I hear that you got clean. Stay that way. You're a dad, now."

House fought the urge to make a sarcastic comment. He hated the condescending tone in Tritter's voice. Greg took care of it for him.

"Yeah, like he hasn't figured it out already! You know, he doesn't talk to me like I'm an idiot and I haven't heard him talking to you like you're one, so show a little respect please. If you were a dad, you wouldn't want someone talking like that to you in front of your kid!"

"He's got your mouth, too, but he has a point. Sorry House."

House nodded. He was too stunned to respond. An unease silence followed and eventually House spoke up. "Like you said, it's late and I need to get the kid to bed. Can I go now?"

Tritter nodded and House pulled away, barely brushing by the officer as he made good his escape.

"I appreciate the sentiment back there, but that guy is as volatile as they come."

"I got that you knew him."

"Oh yeah, he came into the clinic with a social disease. I knew what it was and offered to medicate without testing and he got ugly. I said something scathing and when I turned to walk away he tripped me. I exited the clinic leaving him with a rectal thermometer stuck where the sun doesn't shine. I was pretty proud of it at the time but not anymore. Things got worse before they got better and Cuddy ended up perjuring herself on the witness stand in order to clear me. It wasn't pretty. In the end Tritter and I sort of cleared the air. I still don't trust him, never will. If he ever comes snooping around, don't answer the door if I'm not there."

"Okay, got it."

"Come to think of it, unless you're expecting a delivery or recognize the person at the door, don't answer it. So, do you like it that long?"

"What?"

"The hair…"

"I guess. It's never been this long before. Nobody told me to cut it or made the appointment and so it just grew." Greg thought about the internship and decided that a haircut would be a good thing. "I should probably get one. I like it, but I don't suppose it's very professional."

"Why would you need to look professional? I guess for giving music lessons, right?"

"Yeah…" Greg was relieved that his dad had answered his own question. Exhaustion had set in long ago and he wouldn't have been able to answer. He'd forgotten about the teaching gig. He rested his head on the back of the seat and closed his eyes.

"Hey kid, wake up. We're home!" said House as he jostled Greg back to wakefulness. Greg dragged himself out of the car and into 221B. House pointed him in the direction of his bedroom and Greg wandered down the hallway. He stopped, though and turned to face his dad.

"You know, Dad, we all make mistakes. I don't think any less of you after what happened and what you told me tonight. I still love you."

A weight lifted from House that he didn't even know he was carrying. As long as Greg was being candid with his feelings, House decided to be, too.

"I love you, too. It means a lot to me that you stood up for me tonight. I've never had the sort of family that would do that for me. It was…nice. Mind if I stay on the couch, tonight? Greg thought about needing to be at the hospital in the morning but wouldn't have told his dad no if his life depended on it."

"Do you want your bed? We could share."

"I'll stay on the couch. I need to leave early and don't want to wake you."

"Good night, then," Greg turned and headed to bed. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Probably not, since I'll need to go back to the loft to clean up. I'll need to get there early enough to stomach a lecture from Wilson, too." House wondered it staying the night was such a good idea, after all. The thought of facing Wilson made him sick. Maybe he could sneak in and Wilson wouldn't notice that he had been gone. Just then his cell phone rang and it was Wilson. House answered sleepily "What…?"

"I was just wondering if you were okay, House."

"I'm fine. I went to a movie and then had a little chat with Tritter. It seems he's been keeping me on his radar in more ways than one. Apparently, he just wanted to chat because he didn't write me a ticket. It was kinda creepy. Anyway, I came back to 221B, in case he followed me. He doesn't need to know about the loft as far as I'm concerned. I'm sleeping here tonight. I'll plan to see you at PPTH tomorrow."

"I'm glad everything's alright. I'll see you tomorrow, House."

House closed his phone and smiled at Greg. "Trouble averted, I guess!"

"Good for you. I'm going to bed, Dad." Greg didn't even wait for a response.

House sat down at his beloved piano and played Greg's lullaby, singing softly the parts he could remember. He drank a glass of scotch and stretched out on the couch. As House thought about his day, he remembered the intern. If the kid was anything like Greg, maybe it wouldn't be so bad….