A/N: Thank you again for the reviews, follows, and favorites so far! I really love seeing them so if you could take a moment after reading the chapter to leave I thought or two, you'd make my day lol!
And now, let the drama begin…
Chapter 3
Wilson heard the distinct rapping of House's cane against his front door. Taking one more sip of his much needed morning coffee, he placed his mug down on a coaster and headed over to greet his friends. When he opened the door, House took one good look at him and burst into laughter. "Rem, you've got to see this." Stepping around her husband, the woman entered into a similar fit. Wilson's face looked as though it had been styled by a clown on acid. His cheeks were dyed a deep mauve, multicolored powders were messily swept over his eyelid and up to his brows. The remnants of iridescent body glitter and lip gloss could also be seen when his skin hit the light.
"Wilson, what the hell happened to you?" she asked between chortles.
Wilson rolled his eyes, running his fingers through his hair. "Nothing I tried would get it off. Is make up adverse to plain old soap or something?"
"You would think with all of those drag queens you hang around with, you'd know," House jibbed, stepping past his friend and into the apartment. If Wilson's face was messy, his normally spic-and-span home was a total disaster area. The coffee table was covered with books and crayons. Barbie dolls and their accessories were strewn about. And over in the dining area, House could make out the contours of a blanket fort fit for kings. House had to give it to his friend. He surely knew how to keep a little girl entertained.
"On our way back we stopped at the CVS so I could fill a prescription and Ava saw the beauty products and, I don't know, I suggested we have a makeover night. Girls like that right? But now I can't get the darn stuff off!"
Still laughing, Remy reached into her purse and pulled out a travel-sized bottle of makeup remover. "Here, try this," she said, handing Wilson the liquid. "So where exactly is your beautician?"
"Still conked out in the guest room," Wilson said, heading towards the bathroom.
Remy smiled, "I'll go wake her up."
"Better you than I," House said, flopping down on the couch and flipping on the television. His daughter had certainly inherited his distaste for any hour before 10 am.
Remy walked lithely down the hallway towards the guest bedroom. The door was cracked open and peeking in, she saw Ava sprawled out in the middle of the queen-sized mattress on her stomach. The toddler's hair was a mess of untamed curls and she was suckling her thumb. She looked entirely peaceful other than a furrowed brow that resembled House's expression when he was deep in thought, and Remy figured her daughter must be dreaming. Entering the room, she quietly sat down on the side of the bed and smiled as she ran her fingers through the little girl's light brown mop.
Remy Hadley loved being a mom. She honestly never thought it was going to happen. After the mishaps with the initial Huntington's trial, she had figured that it would be selfish to bring a child into the world well-knowing that they would have a dead parent by the time they reached puberty. And truth be told, Ava herself was far from a planned pregnancy.
A few years earlier
Remy dove to her knees and leaned over the porcelain bowl of the toilet just in time before emptying her stomach of the contents of her breakfast. This must have been some hell of a flu strain that she had caught, because for the past several days, her stomach had been in knots. She felt bloated, exhausted, and all around terrible. At least it was happening now and not a couple of weeks ago, she figured. That would have made for quite the unfortunate honeymoon.
Speaking of, she had promised House that she would stop by the clinic and get checked out. Having already missed two days of work, she didn't have much of a leg to stand on in debating him. They were both as stubborn as could be, but considering she felt like total shit and knowing one of the attendings would probably take her without much wait time, she figured she'd appease her husband just this once.
Husband. Remy couldn't help but smile at the thought of that, absentmindedly twisting the diamond-encrusted band that now adorned her left ring finger. Although she played herself off as an elusive badass, she was secretly a bit of a hopeless romantic and marrying House earlier that month had been nothing short of the best day of her life.
Feeling confident enough that her stomach had settled – for now – she brushed her teeth, washed her face, and popped an antacid into her mouth before heading over to Princeton-Plainsboro.
As anticipated, she didn't have to wait long. Chase was catching up on some overdue hours and, spotting Remy, rushed her into one of the open exam rooms.
"Ah finally, a patient who doesn't cause me to lower my IQ," the Australian said with a smirk.
"With an attitude like that, you'd think that you were House."
"Oh don't joke. Half of the reason I'm down here right now is because your husband has been intolerable today. What, did you kick him out onto the couch last night?"
Remy chuckled. "No, not quite. He's probably just grumpy because vomiting wives like when beds are just for sleeping."
Chase laughed, shaking his head. "I guess I wouldn't know. Wasn't married long enough." Remy caught the bitter undertone to his joke. Boy had Cameron messed with the guy's heart. "Anyway, let's see about alleviating that nausea so you can fuck our boss back into his happy place." Remy's mouth gapped open at his vulgar comment, but before she could retort, the blonde doctor had a needle at her arm. "Make a fist," he said with a smirk. After quickly drawing a couple vials of blood, Chase bandaged Remy's arm and headed out the door. "The results should be back in about 15 minutes. Lab isn't busy today."
Remy busied herself absentmindedly playing a game on her phone. She considered reading a nearby Glamour magazine, but then thought best of it, figuring with a potentially weakened immune system, she didn't want to risk catching another bug. About a half an hour later, Chase re-entered the room.
Remy looked up and raised an eyebrow, "I thought you promised me fifteen minutes," she teased. Chase forced a chuckle, suddenly looking very awkward.
"Yeah, um, I just had the lab repeat one of their tests to make sure the results were accurate," he said, looking down again at the file.
Remy frowned in confusion. "Is there something wrong?"
"No—" started Chase, "I mean, yes? Maybe. I don't know it could be but…"
"Chase!" Remy interrupted.
"You're pregnant," Chase blurted out.
Remy felt her breath catch. "I'm what?"
"Pr-pregnant," Chase said, handing her the paperwork. "Your hCG levels. There's no doubt…"
"I have an IUD. I couldn't have gotten pregnant," Remy said, in complete denial.
"It's rare, but it could have slipped," Chase shrugged, "I could check if you'd like?" Remy glared at him. "Or I can have one of the gynos on duty come by."
Remy looked down at the papers again. Pregnancy: POST. The last time she had seen a positive test result was when she received her Huntington's diagnosis. And that fact loomed heavily over her now. "Um," she said, clearing her throat, "that would be good."
Sure enough, after a vaginal exam, the gynecologist confirmed that Remy's IUD had in fact slipped. And considering she and House had been going at it like rabbits lately and that they never used condoms, she figured she couldn't be surprised at the present situation. Now there was just the matter of handling it.
Normally, Remy tried to separate her work and her personal life. Considering she was married to her boss, there was of course some ambiguity, but for the most part, she tried to attend to work-related matters at the hospital and to save everything else until after hours. Given her emotional state at present though, that was all but impossible. "I need to talk to you," she texted House. She was pleasantly surprised when he responded right away: "In my office. Come on up." Shoving her phone into her pocket, she headed towards the elevator.
When she entered House's office, he took one look at her face and stood up from his desk chair, hobbling over to shut the blinds that afforded them privacy from the adjoined diagnostics room. Similarly, Remy pulled the down the covering on his office door.
"What's wrong?" House asked. Although clearly trying to mask it, Remy could tell that he was clearly nervous. And he had reason to be. She was sure her face was upset yet specifically unreadable. And frankly, he should be nervous given what she was about to tell him. She was anxious as hell.
"I'm pregnant," Remy said bluntly. House stood there just looking at her, his face dually illegible. It was at that point that Remy began to lose her resolve, feeling all energy start to drain from her body. "Greg," she choked out with a sob.
House limped over to his wife and wrapped his arms around her as she began to cry, rubbing small circles around her back. They remained that way for several minutes until Remy gained enough composure to speak again, "I- I um, scheduled an appointment for Friday to terminate. I figured that way I could have the weekend to recover a bit before…"
"No." House interrupted her, before looking down bashfully.
Remy looked at him quizzically. "What do you mean, no?"
House was quiet for several moments. Unable to meet her eyes, he continued, "I don't want to terminate the pregnancy."
"Gre-"
House sighed heavily, finally meeting his wife's gaze with those cerulean blue eyes. "It's your decision, in the end. I'll support you either way but- I want this. And I know that you do to."
Remy stifled another sob, "What if they have it to?"
House grimaced. "We'll have an CVS done. If the genetic test is positive, it's still early enough to terminate non-invasively. But if it's not—I'd like to keep the baby." He paused for a long moment. "I know that you're scared because of your mom, what she did to you. How she treated you. I know that you don't want to become that. Hell, all of these years I've ruled kids out entirely because I thought I'd be a crappy dad because of my upbringing. But—um, if we go through with this, when you're… gone…" House paused, stifling his own sob in favor of an errant tear running through a crevice on his face. "I'll still have a part of you. Something to keep me going."
Remy looked at the man who she loved more deeply than she thought was possible. Crying freely now, she wrapped herself around him once more, burying her face in his chest, feeling his heart pound against his sternum. Looking up at him, she nodded. "We'll do the test."
Remy brushed a tear off of her cheek at the memory. Since Ava had been born, she had begun a new clinical Huntington's trial that was showing promising results. That being said, she knew that her still-reduced life span would limit the amount of time she would have with her daughter, and she was determined to make the most of all of it, knowing full well that when she did pass, Ava would be left with a doting father. And House would be left with Ava.
She leaned over and placed a kiss on the back of the girl's head, whispering in her ear, "Time to wake up sleepyhead." Ava grumbled something unintelligible and buried her head deeper into the pillows. "Come on silly, we've got to get you home."
"No wanna," Ava mumbled sleepily. Remy laughed. She was just like House in the morning. Well, minus the thumb-sucking.
"You don't want me to have to get the tickle monster, do you?" Ava's eyes opened warily.
"No tickey monster."
Remy chuckled. When desperate times called for desperate measures, the couple had discovered that Ava's weakness was being tickled, and House more than delighted in tormenting her until she jumped right out of bed. "Alright then, no tickle monster, but you have to get up." Sighing, Ava scooted out from under the covered, grabbing her stuffed rabbit that she had had since she was a baby. "What, no good morning for me?"
Ava giggled. "Mornin mommy," she said with a yawn, curling up against her.
"Alright sweetheart," Remy said with a smile, lifting the little girl up and carrying her, "let's get you home.
House MD ~ House MD ~ House MD ~ House MD ~ House MD ~ House MD
The three spent the rest of their weekend fairly relaxed and simply enjoyed one another's company. They took a trip to the park one afternoon. House and Ava made a pizza pie the next evening. But, as is the case most often, the days went by quickly and before they knew it, it was Monday morning.
The team didn't have a new patient yet, so they were off performing other duties around the hospital. Foreman was down in neurology working on a Parkinson's trial. Thirteen and Taub were in the clinic. Chase had been called into surgery. House, in the meanwhile, was avoiding all responsibility and instead was giving his rapt attention to the latest episode of his favorite soap opera. Which is why he was not pleased to hear the quick tapping of Cuddy's heels as she approached his office door.
The administrator entered the office quickly. "You need to get down to the ER."
House looked at her over his desk, holding up his bag of Fritos. "If you didn't notice, I'm sort of in the middle of something, Cuddles. Very hard work –"
"House!" Cuddy interrupted sharply, "It's Ava. Acute Respiratory Distress."
