Rachel watched her father hobble onto the step ladder. He reached slowly and silently onto the top shelf and grabbed a heavy wooden box from the top. Rachel grabbed it from her father's arms and held his hand as he climbed down.

"Jesus, dad," She said. "You're going to kill yourself."

House smiled a little as Rachel helped him sit on the couch. She rested the box beside him, and then went to get her father a vicodin. House opened the box and pulled out some of the paper inside.

Rachel sat beside him, handing him a tiny white pill. He took it gratefully. She looked at the woman in the photo.

"Is that mom?" She asked.

House nodded, he sighed. "Rachel," He said. "Lisa Cuddy wasn't your real mother."

"Don't be ridiculous, dad," She replied. "Of course she's my mother. You always told me she was."

House shook his head. "Rachel, before I tell you this, you need to know… I love you so much. And I wouldn't tell you this if it wasn't true. But… These past thirteen years, I seem to have forgotten who I am."

"Dad, what are you saying?" Rachel asked.

House sighed. "I'm not, your biological father. And Lisa Cuddy was never your biological mother."

"You told me her name was Lisa House." Rachel said. "You got married to her!"

House looked grave. "You're real mother was a sixteen year old patient of mine. She died of a pregnancy related disease… I couldn't save her. Lisa… She took kindness to a new level and she adopted you."

"But the cancer part is true… She did die of cancer..?" Rachel seemed uncertain.

House nodded. "Yeah, that part is true. Lisa and I… Well we were never involved. But she chose me to raise you… I don't know exactly why…"

He reached deeper into the box and pulled out a small envelope. He gave it to Rachel.

"What's this?" She asked.

"When Lisa found out she was dying of cancer," House said. "She wrote you a letter that you could read when you were older. I haven't read it, and I don't want to know what's in it. It is your letter. Not mine."

Rachel stared at him.

"You've read it haven't you?"

House looked at her.

"Why do you always assume the worst of me?" He asked.

Rachel leapt to her feet. "I don't know, maybe because you lied to me for the first thirteen years of my life? You tricked me into believing that you were my real father and she was my real mother… You lie, cheat and steal in your practice, why not do it at home too?!"

She bounded out of the room, still clutching the letter and slammed her bedroom door. House could hear her crying. He sighed and limped behind her. He wrapped his knuckles hard on the door.

"Rachel open up," He said. "please?"

"GO AWAY!" She shouted. "You're a fucking lying bastard! I Fucking hate you! Leave me the fuck alone!"

House banged his head on the door, gritting his teeth with silent frustration. "Rachel," He said. "I'm not going to pretend that what I did was the right thing… or even the best thing for you. But, I thought that if you could be brought up with a normal happy family in mind."

"Fuck Off!" Rachel shouted.

"No!" House snapped, getting quite pissed at her language. "Rachel, you gotta hear me out."

"Why should I?" She cried. "Is any of it real? Your infarction? Stacy, Tritter, Vogler, your addiction, rehab, Cut-throat bitch… Was that all a lie too?"

"You know my infarction was real," He replied. "You have seen the scars, you've seen me at my worst. I have told you nothing but truth… Just not the truth about your real mother and…" He sighed. "I really do love you and I did love your mother."

Silence.

"I remember the first time that you and I actually bonded." House continued. "Do you want to hear it?"

Silence.

"Good, cause I was going to tell you anyway." House slumped on the floor.