A/N: Written for the FOX Last Author Standing prompt "Rewrite 'A Christmas Carol' using fandom characters."

"You're Jewish – you don't even celebrate Christmas!" he protested.

"I'm not asking for a lot, House. Just a tree and a few nice presents for Rachel. I just want to make this a special time for her. It's not just Christmas, it's the anniversary of when I got her."

"You just got her presents for Chanukah. She'll grow up spoiled."

"Hah!" Cuddy barked out. "You're one to talk about being spoiled. You're the biggest brat I've ever met."

House's eyes narrowed and he became eerily quiet. "If that's how you feel, fine. I'll be at my place when you come to your senses." With that, he grabbed his cane and stormed out.

House sat alone on his couch, nursing a beer and resting his eyes. He would never admit it to Cuddy, but Christmas was bringing up some ugly memories. He wished they could avoid the entire season. He put the beer down, then drifted into a fitful sleep.

"If you can't be polite to your mother, then you don't deserve to spend Christmas with the family!" John House bellowed.

"Where else am I supposed to go?" asked a wide-eyed, ten year old Greg. John opened the back door and gestured.

"You can sleep in the yard tonight. Get out."

Greg ran outside before his father could get any more worked up, flinching as the door slammed behind him. He tried not to shiver as he hugged himself and rubbed his arms. He heard his parents arguing inside the house. Finally, the door opened softly, and Blythe walked out into the yard. She was holding Greg's coat.

"Your father says you may have this. You're to come back in tomorrow morning at seven."

Greg gratefully took the coat. He didn't dare ask about his presents.

Blythe walked back toward the house. At the last second, she turned around. "I'm sorry Greg – I tried to talk to him." Then she disappeared inside the house, leaving Greg completely alone.

As he shoved his arms into the coat, he walked up to the window and peered in. His dad was drinking coffee in the arm chair. He looked cozy and warm. Greg watched his family enjoy Christmas Eve without him. John noticed and abruptly got up. Greg flinched as the man approached the window.

"HEY!" John screamed.

House awoke with a start. Breathing heavily and shivering, he grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the couch and covered himself. He could not seem to warm up. He hated dreaming about Christmases past.

Cuddy seemed to be avoiding House. No new cases, no demands for clinic duty – not even a call to check on him. He went through his day in a fog, still remembering his dream. He hadn't thought about that Christmas in years, so why was it suddenly coming back to him?

He decided to stop by Cuddy's house on the way home, just in case she was any less angry tonight.

The living room light was on. House hobbled up to the window and peered in. It seemed Cuddy had gone ahead and found a tree. She and Rachel were decorating it together, laughing as they tried to string lights up to the top.

He decided not to ring the doorbell after all.

hr

"Hello, I'm Sissy. How may I service you today?"

House cleared his throat and tried not to smirk at the screen. "Your profile says you do fortunes?"

Sissy smiled. "Sure do. You want a nude reading?"

House relaxed into the couch and nodded. Sissy began to strip as she looked into the camera. After a moment, what had started as a sultry look turned concerned.

Finally, Sissy asked, "Are you having a fight with your girlfriend right now?"

House stiffened. These things weren't supposed to be real. It was just for fun; a way for his brain to multitask while he watched a hot stripper.

He sneered. "Lucky guess. I'm betting at least half your customers are having fights with their girlfriends on any given day."

"Hmmmm. Well, you may not like what I have to tell you."

"Which is?"

"I see you as an old man. You're alone. You've fallen for some reason – is there something the matter with your leg? And...you can't get up."

House swallowed. "I didn't call for help?"

Sissy shrugged. "Nobody's coming for you. Maybe because it's Christmas."

"It's Christmas?"

"Well, there are lights on all of the houses…not yours, though. You got a thing against Christmas?"

House stood up and out of the view of his webcam. "You know what, I'm late. I have to go."

"But don't you want me to –"

House slammed his laptop shut and grabbed his cane on his way out the door.

He stood outside Cuddy's door for a full ten minutes before finally ringing the bell. She opened the door and glanced at his hand. "You brought me an old book?"

"I brought a present for Rachel. A first edition Dr. Seuss."

She stared at him. "What brought on the sudden change?"

"Let's just say I've had a taste of Christmas past, present and future. I didn't like what I saw."

"You weren't visited by three ghosts, were you?"

House laughed. "No, just…the truth. Can I come in?"

Cuddy opened the door wider, allowing him in. "Where'd you get the book?"

"It used to be mine. Mom would read it to me when dad wasn't around."

"And you saved it all these years?"

House shrugged. "It reminded me of the better parts of my youth."

He sat on the couch, and Cuddy sat next to him, placing Rachel into her lap. "Well, are you going to read it to her?" she challenged.

House cleared his throat and opened the book so that Rachel could see the pictures. "How The Grinch Stole Christmas! By Dr. Seuss."

He put his legs up on the coffee table and began. "Every Who down in Whoville liked Christmas a lot…."