After way too long, I have another chapter ready to go. I hope you enjoy it!
Thanks so much to those of you who take the time to comment and encourage. It really means a lot to me. My daughter is getting married in a week, so I'm looking forward to having more time to write.
Disclaimer: I don't own House or any of the characters in this chapter, aside from Greg Jr. and Stacia.
Like Father, Like Son
Chapter 26
During Greg's illness, House had time to think about his own childhood and the job his parents had done raising him. His initial reaction was "just don't be them", but in hindsight he realized that despite the abuse he received at the hand of his father, there were probably some things both parents did right. House acknowledged that he wasn't an easy child. He was curious, creative and completely fearless from the start. If he really wanted to do something he was going to do it at any cost. How frustrating must that have been for his parents? Granted, his parents handled him in a way that was completely unacceptable, but aside from Dr. Benjamin Spock, there wasn't much out there to guide parents in the task of rearing their offspring. His father's military mindset was diametrically opposed to anything that doctor had to say; thus leaving Greg in the middle of a situation where his mother chose to parent gently while his father sought to instill a sense of right and wrong in the harshest way possible. It didn't help that his mother chose to turn a blind eye to his father's activities. The bitterness that had grown over the years tasted like the bile that burned his throat whenever he thought back to that time in his life he tried so hard to forget.
Now it was time to take a step back and try to evaluate the good things as well. Because his father traveled throughout his military career, House's exposure to various cultures and languages was priceless. He was constantly using the skills he had developed years ago as a result of those experiences. House had been permitted to roam and explore freely the exotic places where his father had been stationed. House hadn't just visited museums; he had climbed pyramids in Egypt and hung out with Buraku in Japan. He had learned the languages of every single place he had visited because of his ability to pick up the nuances of each language. House had studied and become lost in his interests because he'd needed these diversions to protect his mental health. Would he have given up these experiences if to do so would have protected him from the abuse he suffered at his father's hands? No, he didn't think he would. The knowledge he'd gained had saved the lives of others more than once. He also realized that a traditional American lifestyle and education would have bored him to the point of desperation. His childhood, as dreadful as it was, in the end had turned out to be exactly what House needed in order to be the man he'd become. His good qualities as well as the bad were a direct result of the childhood his parents had chosen for him. Would House have done it all over again? No. As an adult, he realized that no kid should be treated that way. Regardless of how difficult he'd been, he'd never deserved the abuse so freely meted out to him.
GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH
Just before it was time to get up, House's thoughts turned to Greg. His son been raised right despite the tragedy that had touched his young life. He wondered if he would be like Greg if he'd been loved and nurtured in the same way. It didn't matter really, since there was no way to go back. What did matter was for Greg to continue to be nurtured in the way that benefitted him most and House was determined to step up and be that for his son. Whereas doctoring was intuitive for House, he was pretty sure parenting wasn't. He realized though, that the key was being available and House was sure that he could do that starting now. A pillow whacked him just as the alarm went off.
"Hey, get up! I'm well and refuse to be kept hostage for another day!"
House looked at his scruffy kid and decided that the parenting needed to start right away. "Whoa! We need to take care of a few things first before we enter the land of the Great and Powerful Cuddy!"
"Like what? I already showered so what's the problem?"
"Your clothes are my clothes, for one thing! It's a miracle that Wilson hasn't taken you shopping! If you've been wearing my ties, you need to know that Wilson has been giving them to me as gag gifts every Christmas and birthday since we met. You really don't want to embarrass yourself for another day." House swallowed and took a deep breath. "You need a haircut, too."
"No way! You don't make Chase cut his hair!"
"Chase isn't my son; you are." House got out of bed and hobbled to his closet to figure out what to wear.
Greg huffed and rolled his eyes. "Wilson didn't complain about the way I look when I was working for him!"
"Wilson isn't your dad. It's not his job. Where is he, by the way?"
"He's fixing breakfast. He told me to wake you. What if he says that I don't need a haircut?"
"If you don't want two dads, I wouldn't go there with him if I were you," House replied as he glared at Greg.
"Fine." Greg turned to leave so his dad would have some privacy, but he felt compelled to ask one more question. "Dad, how short does my hair need to be?"
House didn't want to go there. It really was a trivial thing, but it was time to stand his ground. "Just make your grandparents proud."
The two men smirked at each other. Greg couldn't fight that one, even if he'd wanted to. His dad was good. There was no denying that!
Once he'd gotten his shower and trimmed his beard, House joined Greg and Wilson at the table for breakfast. He placed his cell on speaker and called the team. Since this was a morning routine, House knew that the team would be listening on speaker, as well.
"Good Morning, Angels! I'm not coming in right away because we haven't got a case! Your job is to find one in the clinic as you are doing my hours."
"Do your own clinic hours, House." replied Foreman, deciding to forgo the formalities and cut to the chase.
"I have a commitment I need to see to and I know that you all have the time." House looked at Greg indicating that he was the commitment. "If you see Eddie, remind him that he's with us starting today. Thirteen can play mother hen until I get there."
Thirteen's response was as House expected. "He's easier to get along with than you are, I'd be glad to."
House disconnected the phone and turned to Greg. "You are the commitment to which I was referring. Let's go." House finished the last bite of food from his plate grabbed his backpack and cane and headed to the door. "You're coming?"
"On my way," grumbled Greg, as he took his time finishing his meal and slowly put the last bite in his mouth.
For the first time, House felt anger stir. Apparently, the best behavior phase of their relationship was over and the real job of parenting was about to begin. "Our arrival PPTH is contingent on getting your stuff done. Whereas I have to go, it is your privilege to go. Understood?"
Greg took his plate and House's to the sink and seemed to move just a shade faster. "On my way."
"Good to hear it."
"Dad, do I have to get a buzz like yours? It's hideous."
"Is that what your grandparents made you get?"
"No."
"Thank God, because I think it's hideous, too. I had to keep it like this at Mayfield and I think it's about time to grow it out, don't you?"
GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH
House and Greg stopped at the first hair salon they came to. As they entered, both men took in the scene. The room was lined with two rows of chairs facing mirrored walls. House and Greg were looking at exactly what they'd expected to see. Old women stylists stood behind even older women clients getting old lady hair-dos. There was one exception. A much younger stylist stood off to one side behind an empty chair. Her blond hair was spiked and her arms were covered in many and varied tattoos. She was flipping through a magazine that contained all the most up to date and sensationalized stories about the world's most "interesting" people. The men looked at each other and grinned.
"Her!" they said in unison.
"Are you just here for the floorshow or do one of you need a haircut?" The young woman's husky, and slightly incriminatory, voice indicated that maybe they'd been staring at her for a little too long.
Greg blushed as House stated, "It'd better be for the haircut because the floorshow sucks."
The woman gave a full throated, raucous laugh as she approached them and replied, "It must be for the young man here because if I cut any more hair off you, I'll need to get out the wax to polish your lumpy bald head. I'm Stacia and I can already tell you're a pain in the ass."
"Ah, you got it right, but you can just call me House. This is my son Greg. He's mute."
"I am not! I just didn't feel compelled to interrupt the flow of your witty repartee. Greg House." Greg held out his hand for Stacia to shake and she took it with a very impressed look at House.
"Wow! Smart and mannerly! This isn't your child. Did you steal him?"
"No, he showed up on my doorstep a few weeks ago."
"Well, his mother must be an angel."
"I'd like to think so," said Greg.
Stacia had no idea how true these statements were and since she had turned to lead Greg to a chair, she didn't see the look that passed between father and son.
Greg sat in the chair that Stacia had shown him to and she proceeded to run her hands through his hair. "I love your curls! I have an idea!" Stacia went to work without further conversation and Greg relaxed into the sensation of feeling mothered for the first time in what seemed like years.
Over the course of the haircut, House and Greg found out that Stacia was the single mom of four kids. She spoke proudly and with humor about each of them. House admitted to being a doctor and Greg said that he was about to start an internship with his dad.
"You'd better watch out, House, this kid is going to be out-diagnosing you in no time flat!" Suddenly, she stopped and looked hard at Greg. "How old are you?"
"Fifteen, I graduated early and I'm just trying to stay busy until I can enroll in college in the spring." House realized that Greg's age had changed since the topic had last come up. He'd manage to miss a birthday already, apparently.
"I hope you've got what it takes to keep up with this kid, Dad!" Stacia teased.
"You aren't the only one," was House's reply.
Stacia turned Greg around and handed him a small mirror so that he could see the back of his head in the larger mirror. "What do you think?"
"It's great!" enthused Greg. "I always thought that my hair had to be out of control, but it looks really good!"
Stacia smiled. "You just needed to get the right cut. Curly hair can be tricky." Greg's hair lay flat against his head in soft waves. A few wispy curls turned up at his neck. "I bet your dad looked just like you when he was fifteen. There's no hiding that you're father and son, that's for sure!"