#parent!house

Imagine being House’s kid and he comes across you playing guitar for patients waiting in the clinic.

You had actually started playing when there wasn’t anyone else in the waiting room. When you had gotten dropped off at the hospital with nothing but a guitar and a name to help you find your birth father, you hadn’t really known where to start. Doctors were busy people and it wasn’t like you had an appointment. So you just talked briefly with a receptionist and then sat down to wait.

Eventually, you took out your guitar. Your fingers played across the strings, picking out familiar melodies. You hummed along quietly, allowing yourself to get lost in the music. It helped you to not have to focus on your anxiety. 

Once people started filtering in and out of the waiting room, that was when you started to get a little self-conscious. You were going to put your guitar away again before a little girl asked if you knew a particular song. You didn’t, but you offered to play her a different song instead.

You played for hours. Your fingers were starting to sting by the time a voice called your name. You stood up, blinking as your eyes fixed on the man at the entrance to the waiting room.

Your throat tightened, “Dr. House?”

The slightest hint of a smile tugged his lips, “Nice to meet you, [f/n].”