Thank you to all of you for your lovely reviews so far! :) They make my day. I, of course, do not own House, but I own everyone else.
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House awakened the next morning to the sound of jangling keys. He looked around at his spartan surroundings, the memory of the night's events finally coming back to him.
It had started innocently enough, talking smack over a pool game. House had underestimated the other guy's temper, and the game had quickly disintegrated into a war of words, followed by a war of fists.
Now he was here, in a jail cell, stuck in some town that seemed to be taken right out of 'Deliverance'. He had no one he could call to bail him out, and the thought sunk House deeper into melancholy.
When he'd left Princeton, this wasn't at all what he had in mind. An extended road trip, wandering the highways, no particular place to go. That was all House had planned to do when he left. House recognized the foolishness of his non-plan, but he was too far from home to turn back now.
It was odd for him to think of anywhere as home, but Princeton probably came the closest to that designation. He had lived there longer than he had lived anywhere else.
House pushed himself off the cot, automatically reaching for his cane. He cursed softly when it was nowhere in sight. The cops had probably taken it last night when they arrested him.
He limped over to the barred door, calling out to whoever might be out there. "Excuse me! Cripple needs his cane!"
"Shut the hell up." A voice snarled from the next cell. "You've caused enough trouble."
"Your own damn fault." House snapped back, immediately recognizing his opponent's voice. "Learn to keep your hands to yourself."
"Learn to quit talkin' shit about my wife."
"Learn to quit treating your wife like shit."
"Both of you shut the hell up." Another voice called out. "Y'all ain't given us a minute's peace since you showed up."
Both men fell silent, and House plopped himself down on the cot, brooding over the evening's events. For some reason, he couldn't get the image of that woman flying across the pavement out of his head. He vaguely wondered if she was okay, a bit of guilt eating at him for casually inviting her down to the bar in the first place.
The other guy was probably right. If he had just left well enough alone, neither one of them would be here.
There was something about that woman though. What was her name again? Karen, Carol…Caroline. That was it. Sweet Caroline. The tune started running through his head, and he absentmindedly started humming it.
"You fuckin' with me again, old man?!" The rage in the other man's voice was obvious.
House rolled his eyes. "Sensitive much?"
"Doctor Gregory House?" A voice called out, cutting off any response. "Someone's here for you."
House was baffled. Who the hell would be here for him?
He heard a slight clunking sound and the rattle of keys. House looked up to see Rob and an officer coming his way. Rob had House's cane in his hand and a slight smile on his face.
"You forgot somethin'." He held up the cane while the officer unlocked the cell.
House pushed himself off the cot and exited the cell, taking the cane from Rob's outstretched hand. "What the hell are you doing here?"
"You didn't think I'd just let you rot in here, did you?" Rob cracked.
"The thought did occur to me." House answered as he walked side by side with Rob behind the officer.
House signed for his personal effects, tucking his cell phone, wallet, and keys into various pockets. The officer nodded as he took the form. "You take care now, Doctor House. Don't raise no more hell while you're here."
"No promises." House smirked ever so slightly as he walked away to meet Rob just outside, making his way to the other man's truck.
Rob glanced at him as they climbed in. "You're lookin' a mess, man."
House shrugged. "I've felt worse."
Rob chuckled a little. "If it makes you feel any better, Kevin looks a hell of a lot worse than you do."
House nodded soberly, and a brief silence stretched out between them. "What about Caroline?"
Rob twisted his mouth as he drove, shifting with a little more force than necessary. "She's alright. Drove her home last night after y'all got taken away." He looked thoughtful. "I'm kind of surprised old boy's still there. Figured she'd rush down first thing this mornin' to bail him out."
House had to admit, that seemed odd, even with his limited knowledge of the situation. "You know what? I could do with some breakfast."
Rob grinned broadly. "She probably won't be there yet."
House shrugged. "Still need to eat."
Rob sighed and turned at the next street, pulling into a parking space out front and shutting off the truck. He shifted slightly so that he faced House. "Do everyone a favor and stay out of this."
"I'm not getting into anything." House answered sharply. "I don't plan on hanging around long enough to get into anything."
House strode into the café, Rob directly behind him. Caroline was already hard at work behind the grill, her delicate face set in concentration.
He sat at the counter so that he was in her line of sight, drumming his fingers on the counter. Marge immediately greeted them, pouring them each a cup of coffee.
"Heard about you last night." Marge's tone was conversational, with a slight edge to it. "You're damn near a hero."
House rolled his eyes and dumped two packets of sugar in his mug. A hero? Hardly. It was just another case of him being unable to control his mouth, as usual.
"Y'all ready to order?" Marge's voice pulled him out of his thoughts.
Both men placed their orders and fell into silence over their coffee until Rob broke it. "Folks been waitin' for years for Kevin to get his comeuppance. You just did what was on everyone's mind, that's all."
"No, I shot my mouth off and caused a shitload of trouble." House answered with a heavy sigh. "I just couldn't leave well enough alone, I guess."
"Good thing, too." Rob told him. "The man needed to be taught a lesson." He stirred his coffee thoughtfully. "Caroline's a good woman. She deserves a hell of a lot better than him. Maybe she's starting to figure that out, too."
"Probably not." House snapped irritably.
"Yeah, probably not." Rob let out a resigned sigh, shaking his head. "I just don't get it."
"It's simple." House answered. "He's got her thinking that he's the best she's ever going to get. Around here, he's probably right. Who's going to tell him he's wrong?"
Caroline happened to look up, her eyes going slightly wide as she spotted House. "Order up." She called out, her eyes still locked on House.
"What's her problem?" House muttered to Rob.
"You ain't looked at yourself yet." Rob chuckled. "Told ya you looked a mess."
Marge set their plates in front of them, and both men ate in silence. Soon Rob was flagging her down for the check, and House pulled out his wallet above Rob's protests.
"You bailed me out." House told him. "The least I can do is cover breakfast."
"You don't owe me nothin'." Rob answered as he threw down cash for a tip. "Had to get your cane back to you somehow."
"Still…you know. You didn't have to come after me." House was becoming increasingly uncomfortable. "I would have managed."
Rob simply shrugged. "Why just get by if you don't have to?"
House could have come up with a thousand reasons. Instead he mumbled out, "Thanks. You know."
Rob gave him a funny look. "No problem, man." He eased himself down from the stool. "I gotta make a quick stop at the grocery store. You want me to come back for you?"
"Sure." House shrugged. "Not like I've got anywhere else to go."
Rob nodded and headed out the door, the bell over the door ringing as he did so. Soon after, Marge ambled down to where House sat, filling his coffee mug. "Rob ditch you?"
"He had things to do." House answered.
Marge nodded. "He don't come into town much. Things have been kind of tough for him since Chelsea took off with Evan." She tilted her head at House. "Guess it was kind of a lucky break that he found you."
"I think he's having his doubts after bailing me out of jail."
"Hardly." Marge laughed heartily. "Rob's got a good heart. He just don't show it much. He thinks it's easier that way."
House could understand that. Letting other people in was a one-way ticket to emotional trauma. If you never let them in, then you could never get hurt.
It made sense logically, but the reality was often far different. House could already see in his short time here that there were people willing to reach out to Rob. Rob, for many obvious reasons, didn't want to be bothered.
He sat at the counter for what seemed like forever, sipping his coffee and brooding. A soft, feminine voice pulled him out of his reverie. "More coffee?"
House lifted his head to meet a pair of soft blue eyes, framed by wavy light brown hair. Caroline's features were delicate, giving House the impression of a scared little bird.
"Sure." House nodded, and the woman poured him another cup, turning to fill a cup of her own before returning the carafe to the coffeemaker . She returned to lean against the counter, giving House a long look.
House frowned at her. "Something you want?"
Caroline shook her head. "Just takin' a break. Figured you wouldn't mind a little company."
"How would your hubby feel about that?"
A little smile curved Caroline's soft lips. "Not too concerned with what he thinks right now."
"So you haven't bailed him out yet." House asserted.
"And don't plan on it, either." She replied firmly. "Let one of his bar buddies do it. I'm done."
House smirked a little. He knew that little bit of backbone she was showing would last about as long as it would take for the man to make his first appearance. "And how many times have you said that?"
"Too damn many." Caroline let out a resigned sigh. "It's funny. Every time he goes to jail, I'm relieved. Every time he comes back out, it's like…I don't know. I can't explain it."
"For whatever reason, you don't think you deserve any better." House commented. "Keep acting like that, and you'll probably be right."
Caroline pressed her lips together. "He's all I know."
"I hope you're not looking for advice." House told her. "You'd be an idiot to take advice from a complete stranger anyway."
He spotted Rob's truck out front, and slid off the stool after draining his mug. "My ride's here."
As House was about to push through the door, Caroline's voice stopped him. "You're the first guy in a long time to stand up to Kevin, you know."
"For all the good it did." House grumbled.
Caroline smiled slightly. "It might have done more good than you think. You never know."
With that House left, making his way toward Rob's truck and heaving his way into the cab. "Something's wrong with that woman. I think she was flirting with me."
Rob chuckled as he put the truck in reverse. "Don't you know? Chicks dig that whole knight-in-shining-armor thing."
House snorted and shook his head, falling silent for the rest of the ride back to Rob's. The two men climbed out of the truck, unloading the few bags of groceries from the truck bed and carrying them into the house.
The dogs immediately greeted them, and Baxter eagerly snuffled around House's legs as he set bags on the counter. Almost automatically, House reached for the box of Milk-Bones, holding one out in his large palm.
Elsa wasn't far behind, although not nearly as eager as Baxter. She almost shyly accepted the treat, retreating to her bed in the living room to finish her snack.
After the night of fitful sleep in the jail cell, House was worn out. He gestured down the hallway with his cane. "Think I'll lie down for a while."
"Sounds good." Rob nodded as he collapsed heavily onto the couch and started unbuckling his prosthesis. "I'll give a holler when food's ready."
House frowned at the antique that was attached to Rob's leg. Surely he could have gotten something better, something that would have allowed him greater mobility.
It was none of his business, House had to keep reminding himself. Two days in this town and he was already causing problems. There was no sense in getting involved. Before too long he would be back on the road, headed for parts unknown.
He emptied his pockets before lying down, briefly flipping open his cell phone. No calls, no messages, nothing. If he had intended to burn all his bridges, he was doing a damn good job.
It occurred to House that he could simply disappear, and few would notice. As he fell asleep, he wondered if it were possible to start over, to start a new life, surrounded by people who knew little or nothing of his past.
House chided himself for the idea, dismissing it as a product of sleep deprivation. The whole notion would disappear the moment he woke up, House was sure of that. Therefore, there was no need to give the idea any further thought.
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