Title: A Legend No More

Author:Tu

Rating: Pg

Season/Sequel: Prequel to Death of a Legend.

Disclaimer: I don't own House (Dang.)

Author's Notes: This was swimming around my head as I began to write Death of a Legend. How did House die? This piece can stand-alone. It's really just some random silliness I need to get out of my head to concentrate on Death Of a Legend. I had killed House in a different way, but this was more amusing to me.

Hmm, this was not how I expected to go. It was just not dramatic enough. It lacked something. Something that made it more, I don't know, me. Where was the anger, the abuse, and the fire.

Jimmy had said I would kill myself on my motorcycle. What was it he had said all those years ago? Ah, yes 'machines that go 150 miles an hour and crippled drug addicts don't mix'. He use to tell me about this reoccurring dream of his. One in which I was run over by not one but two different cars and he had to come identify the ripped apart pieces of my body. Ha, shows what he knows.

Stacy had once said I would die from one of my team finally having enough and beating me over the head with the 'board'. Hm, I like the imagery. But, then again Stacy was wrong about a lot of things in my life.

Steve had never voiced his opinion on my death. All twelve of him. I think he lived happy in the knowledge that he was safe and got to eat everything he wanted just as before the strange man took him in. Luck rat!

The nurse's in the clinic probably had a bet going that some random clinic patents would take me out. Something deadly, but not to messy. Except for that blond nurse, she probably hoped some lesbian would take me out. I'm sure her boat goes that way. The pharmacist would probably take me out himself. Poison my Vicadion on day.

The multitude of donors, whom hated me, could care less. I was gone that's all that mattered. No more Greg House messing up the 'order' of things.

The original 'ducklings' would probably care less. Chase would laugh and say I got what was coming to me. Then feel bad about laughing. Then feel bad about feeling bad. Stupid British wombat spent too much time with Cameron. Cameron would cry and bemoaned the heavens at my passing. Then she would be glad she got 'over' me. Then eat a tub of ice cream. Yes, I like that thought. Foreman, Foreman wouldn't lose any sleep. He would simply shrug and move on. Stupid ex-car thief. Stupid, grr, I lie. Of all the 'ducklings,' he would care.

Lisa, Cuddy, no just Lisa now. She was the one person I would most like to spear this pain. Jimmy would grieve and move on, but Lisa. Lisa will never let it go. How could she? She was, is my everything. My enemy, my lover, my everything, my sparing partner, my sanity. I can see her now. Calling everyone, making all the arrangements. She and Jimmy will be the only ones to show up at my funeral. The kids will call, say they wish they could make it, but in the end. In the end, it will be Jimmy, Lisa, and me. Only I'll be in the ground. Of all the things I'll miss. Lisa will be the worst.

I stand watching the paramedics working on my lifeless body. Hmm, I don't look so good. I wonder as I watch if I will see my favorite patent, the come guy. Hmm, I really should have learned his name.

Who would have though it? Greg House would be taken out…by a three year old on a swing. A three year old who had yet to master the concept of holding on to said swing. No, because this stupid child couldn't hold on, I'm dead. Stupid world