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It was his first Saturday off in weeks. Gavin was home, cleaning his bathroom upstairs and enjoying the warmer air that fluttered in occasionally through the window. He always left a window wedged open these days with a small block of wood he’d managed to sneak out of Shed. He was fairly certain it wouldn’t stop House if it really wanted it closed, but it made him feel better somehow. It helped him sleep.
The shower was working again and had been since he’d promised House he wouldn’t go to Dhaval’s or ask about his mom. A promise he’d kept so far. But for some reason the sink had been draining slowly. Gavin didn’t know much about plumbing, and so he turned to the same source he had when he’d wanted to fix the car: books.
He had a bucket under the trap to catch any mess. He’d managed to get the rusted slip nut off and was in the process of getting the trap disconnected.
“Gross,” he said, wiping at his nose with the back of his gloved hand; the smell was terrible. Trying not to breathe too deeply, he started pulling things from the curved pipe: a Lego, the tire from a Hot Wheels car, some sort of black gunk, and so much hair he actually considered shaving his head. What he wasn’t expecting was the plunk he heard as something dislodged and dropped into the bucket below. He was almost afraid to look.
A key. Gavin stood and closed the door, looking around the bathroom before tugging off his gloves and starting the shower. With the key tucked protectively in his palm, he started stripping down to nothing. Once inside, and with the dark vinyl curtain pulled closed, he looked at the key under the spray.
It was maybe two inches long and silver, with VICTOR SAFE AND LOCK CO. engraved into the side. It didn’t look like any house or car key he’d ever seen—there were no locks to anything in House—but maybe to a safe? Or some sort of padlock?
He didn’t have time to think about it, though. When Piano began playing downstairs, it was time for lunch.
Gavin rinsed himself off and climbed out, careful to keep the key hidden in his hand while he dried off and dressed. Butterflies raced in his stomach, and he tried to tamp down the jittery feeling he got when he felt the sharp teeth pressed to his palm, the metal as it warmed against his skin. This key was critical. The doors on House never locked, and other than the small set he had for the car, he’d never even needed a key before. More important, he’d never held this key before, so unlike with the Lego or the Hot Wheels tire, if it fell down the drain, it wasn’t because he’d dropped it.
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As much as he hated to admit it, Gavin didn’t believe he was ever really alone anymore, even in his “private” bathroom. He was pretty sure House knew all about his plumbing adventures on Saturday, but whether it had seen the key—or even knew the significance of it—Gavin couldn’t begin to guess. It occurred to him, though, that House might decide to keep him locked up again Monday until he handed over the small treasure.
After he dressed for school, Gavin slipped the key into his pocket. He’d spent Sunday reading, finishing a term paper, and working a half shift at the theater. To play it safe, Delilah hadn’t come to visit him once. Everything seemed fine, so in the back of his mind Gavin began to hope that, in fact, House hadn’t noticed the key after all.
But as soon as he walked down the stairs, he knew it had.
The framed prints of his drawings that hung in the hallway had been replaced with photos of him as a baby. He followed the sounds of laughter coming from the living room and found Television playing old videos of him from when he was a toddler. In the kitchen, Curtain reached out to brush his cheek and Potted Plant ruffled his hair. Breakfast was already waiting for him, and as usual when House was up to something, there was enough food to feed an army.