Chapter 2 is here!

Disclaimer: I don't own House.

Keeping the secret until she was ready for House to know proved to be even harder than she thought.

He knew something was up when he walked into her office and realized she had been crying. She blamed it on her hormones. Even though she had been prone to crying easily, House refused to believe that she wasn't actually upset.

She made sure to keep the file hidden well in her house, knowing that he would investigate to find out what she was hiding. She wanted him to know, but not until she was ready for the hell he would raise.

Her due date was February 28th- six months away. But her next appoint was in less than a month and she had to find a way to break the news before then.

Four days after she found out, she decided it was time. She waited until after work and after dinner, when she and House were relaxing on her couch as House clicked through the channels to find a movie.

"Hang on." She put her hand on his, lowering it.

"What? You want to have sex with a cat food commercial on in the background?" He smirked. "Lisa Cuddy, are you a furry? You never cease to stun me with your sexy weirdness."

She snorted and turned the TV off. "I want to tell you something. You won't like it, but I want you to sit and listen and wait until I'm done talking before you start. Okay?"

"O…kay…."

Cuddy sighed as she sat up. "You know as well as I do that something isn't right. You just haven't been snooping hard enough to find out, surprisingly. Our baby's test results came in four days ago."

He frowned. "And they're abnormal. You wouldn't me telling me this is everything was all handy-dandy."

She nodded slowly. "They are. Dr. Thompson ran the tests twice, and I had our own obstetrics department run them. I even ran them myself once to make sure. Every test was positive."

House's frown deepened. She wouldn't beat around the bush like this unless it was something that he really wouldn't like. "Make sure of what? You're giving me the creeps, Cuddy."

"Our baby tested positive for Down syndrome."

House fell silent. He sat up, looking slightly down as he processed what she had just said.

"We should schedule a termination," he finally murmured after a long silence. He watched as his girlfriend's expression shifted from one of worry, to surprise, to hurt, to anger.

"You think I want to abort?" she snapped. "Well, you're mistaken, House. If you don't want this child, then that's your decision. But I'm not terminating."

He scowled. "Oh, come on. You really want to spend the rest of your life taking care of a kid that'll never be on its own?"

"I want this child."

"Have you forgotten that we're doctors? This kid will have mental problems, probably problems, other health problems. What even makes you think it'll survive the pregnancy? Are you so desperate to be a mom that you'll make up for your past by keeping this kid?"

Cuddy glared at him. "Get out," she whispered dangerously. "Get your things and go home. If you can't be a part of this child's life, then I'm not continuing this relationship."

House grabbed his cane and stood up. He grabbed his motorcycle keys and wordlessly limped out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

It didn't take long for tension to settle between them.

The next morning, they barely looked at each other as they walked into the hospital. Cuddy went in the direction of her office while House went straight for the elevator. He made his way toward the Oncology department.

Wilson looked up from his files when his office door opened. "Wow. You look pissed off."

"I am." House entered Wilson's office, shutting the door behind him. "Cuddy's being an idiot."

"I thought I sensed drama when I saw you parking a mile away from her car. What happened this time?"

"She wants to keep the kid." House sat down in one of the chairs facing Wilson's desk.

Wilson set his folder down. "I… thought that was official weeks ago. Why is it a problem now?"

"Because this kid is defective."

"Defective?"

House nodded with a scowl. "It has an extra copy of the 21st chromosome."

"He has Down syndrome?"

"Ding ding ding! Wow, it's like you're a doctor or something!" House snarked. "Yes, it has Down syndrome. She won't know if it's a defective boy or defective girl for several weeks."

"Would you stop calling your kid defective?" Wilson interrupted. "Did you just say she won't know? You mean you won't be going when she-" He paused. "Oh, no. I know what you did. You ran out, didn't you?"

House rolled his eyes. "Don't be dense. I didn't run out. I quickly hobbled out."

Wilson rubbed the bridge of his nose. "What did you say to her?"

"I suggested- with medical reason, mind you- that she should schedule an appointment to terminate the pregnancy. Neither one of us is in any position to raise a sick child."

"You told her to abort her child after she's been trying to conceive for years."

"Apparently I don't get a say in it."

"You're an ass."

House glared at him. "For giving my medical opinion? If you found out you and the future 50th Mrs. Wilson were knocked up with a sick kid, you wouldn't suggest it?"

"House, she's your girlfriend. Not a patient. There's a difference. You didn't suggest it medically. You suggested it because you freaked out because you don't think you have what it takes to raise a child, especially one with special needs."

"Remind me why you didn't pursue a career as a mind-reader?" House scoffed as he stood up. "So even my BFF is against me in this terrible, tragic ordeal. I'll just go cry in my office."

"Right. You do that." Wilson returned his attention to his folder. "House," he called before his friend reached the door. "She loves you. And I think you really do love her. But if you want her… you're going to have to do the right thing."

Scowling, House left Wilson's office and went to his own. There was a case file on his desk and even though he had already deemed it worthless of his time, it suddenly seemed more appealing now that it could distract him.

He leaned back in his chair and propped his feet up on the desk. 22-year-old female, bloody urine, sudden extreme fatigue, fever... Nope. Too boring to be a distraction.

Well, this sucked. His team wasn't in yet to hopefully provide him with a slightly less boring case, he couldn't vent to Wilson, and Cuddy was pissed at him. Maybe rightfully so, but it was for the best if he wasn't involved.

Wilson had a point. House did freak out (he wasn't scared, because he wasn't a giant wuss like Wilson and Cuddy seemed to think), but he had reason to. He was 47 and crippled- too damn old to find the energy to raise a special needs child.

A kid deserved more than that, anyway. He couldn't promise himself, Cuddy, or the kid that he could stick around. He couldn't make such a big commitment. He would inevitably screw up the kid's life.

This was for the best. But why didn't he feel right?

Chapter 3 is written and ready for editing.

And I am ready for some reviews! I haven't written for House in so long that I'd love some feedback to make sure I've still got my groove.