(no subject)

House felt like he should be doing something. Throwing things, maybe? Hiding underneath the covers and slowly dying of humiliation? Tracking down Jack and punching him in the face? No... no punching. There are some promises you don't break.

But he didn't do any of those things, because honestly, he'd seen this coming. Okay, not this exactly, but... something. Some straw that was going to tip a very precarious balance one way so that it crashed. He just didn't realize it would be a brick instead of a straw.

He'd almost thought about going to find Rob, just to... he didn't know, just for a modicrum of comfort as stupid as that was. But no, he knew Rob didn't have a radio and probably hadn't heard and there was no reason to burden him with it. Besides, House didn't want him to think that he'd only come to him because Jack did something shitty. He'd enjoyed the time that Rob had spent in his bed while his ankle was healing. And sure, he might be sleeping with other people, but... at least he wasn't telling everyone about it.

So he was just lying on his bed staring up at the ceiling. Trying to decide what he would say if he saw Jack. Trying to decide how he could hide from everyone else on the island, actually.