"I've been thinking about the possibility of having to give this speech for years. Not because I was constantly thinking about House but because I was always aware of his flippancy, in his life, actions, and practice. Anyone who's known House for more than, oh, five minutes realizes that he was always living life, not going through the motions. Subtle things, like that damn bike." Wilson stopped to take a shaky breath and smile a nostalgic smile. Scanning the eyes of those gathered in the room, meeting the gaze of many he knew, some he didn't, Wilson swallowed the lump in his throat and continued.
"Greg House was a person who always meant what he said, which, sometimes... well, most of the time, meant that he hated you." Gentle laughter rippled through the room. "To be quite honest, I don't know what we're all going to do without him," Wilson choked, unable to keep the tears in his throat under control anymore. Nodding, he stepped down from behind the podium and took his seat next to Cuddy, whose face bore the lines of exhaustion and emotional torment only the death of a loved one could etch. Her fingers entwined in Wilson's, her thumb stroking lazily, but he felt nothing past indescribable pain.
A handful of people spoke after Wilson, all saying something along the lines of "the bastard is going to be missed". Standing outside the church, the moonlight playing of his tearstained cheeks, Wilson had never felt so alone in his life. Stepping off the granite entrance way, Wilson walked around the back of the church to the yard where House's body had been laid to rest an hour earlier. Rounding the corner, Wilson was startled, but not surprised to see Cameron standing in front of his unmarked grave, arms crossed lithely around a squirming pink bundle, tears streaming down her face. Padding slowly across the dewy grass, Wilson came to rest a foot behind Cameron, unable to find a word to utter. They stood in silence for almost a minute.
"He knew, James. He knew he was going to die," Cameron whispered, wiping a tear with her free hand. Wilson nodded.
"I think he did too." Cameron turned, her lip trembling as fresh tears poured over her high cheekbones.
"He loved you, so much," Cameron whimpered, falling into Wilson's embrace. Careful not to squeeze to heavily around the baby, Wilson rested his chin on Cameron's head as she began to sob. "Why did this happen James? Oh God, why?" Cameron cried, her tears soaking Wilson's shirt.
"I..."
"Why would he live long enough to see his daughter and then let go? He knew I'd never be able to get that image out of my head. Our whole relationship was about hurt and pain, why would he give me a child, his child, and then leave us alone?"
Stroking Cameron's back, Wilson felt his own tears cascading down his cheeks, the answer forming on his lips before he knew what he was saying.
"Because he knew."
"What did he know?" Cameron asked, looking into Wilson's eyes. Looking down at the baby in her arms, looking into eyes identical to his, he smiled sadly.
"Everybody lies."