A/N-thank you so much to all who are reading, and to the reviewers for this chapter: MsStevieCooper, Alltheloveintheworld, JLCH, jaybe61, IHeartHouseCuddy, Suzieqlondon, Bakerstreet Blues, CaptainK8, KiwiClare, OldSFfan, Josam, TheHouseWitch, dmarchl21, Abby, Alex, HuddyGirl, IwuvHouse, ClareBear14, 6cbrilhante, Mon Fogel and housebound.

This one has another flashback, to fill in some blanks from over the years. This chapter and I spent a lot of time together…I hope you enjoy it.

Nothing's changed in the past six months…I'm still a medical moron, so if there are any "case" mistakes, apologies to those who actually know about medicine. :)


Getting Mike Callahan's health record was more complicated than Cuddy had expected. The name of the primary care physician provided by Frank was misspelled and the phone number wrong, and when Cuddy finally got through, the staff at the office stated that they'd need a special notarized release to provide the information. It took some time, but Cuddy actually was able to get all of the releases together, and the files were expected electronically by the end of the day.

Cuddy was frustrated, she didn't care for Frank Callahan, and felt truly that his presence was an unpleasant reminder of years past for House. For her, it was a glaring reminder of the things she desperately wished she could fix, but knew she could not. She was also trying to allow House to deal with the old man in whatever way he needed, but every protective cell in her body wanted to forcibly expel Frank from their lives.

Mike Callahan, however, was pleasant, for a sick man. He was patient, and when Cuddy had to repeatedly ask him for information, he didn't seem to mind at all. Mike looked as if he'd been sick for quite some time. His face was gaunt, eyes almost lost in his skull, and he was so undernourished that all of the edges of the joints in his elbows and ankles were painfully defined. Mike looked like he was probably quite handsome, when he was in better health. His skin tone was darker than the old man's, and his eyes deep brown, almost black. At nearly six and a half feet tall, he must have been, at one time, very imposing. By the time he arrived at the Center, he could barely sit up unaided.

Tired of waiting for files, Cuddy decided it was best to take the information from the patient, and conduct more of their own testing, hoping to narrow down the possibilities. When she was finished with Mike, she returned to House's office.

"I think it's HIV," she said calmly. "It makes sense. Extreme fatigue, weight loss, joint pain, he seems to pick up every opportunistic infection that walks past him."

"Symptoms of lots of things," House answered quietly as he gazed out his window.

"True, but, it would also explain your initial feeling that maybe they had a diagnosis, but they just didn't like it. Explains the mysterious holdup on the files. Maybe they brought him here so he could get treatment far away from home."

"Far from the judgments of friends." House answered.

"I think the cold symptoms are just the result of opportunistic infection. Anyway, I ran an HIV test, also screening for amyloidosis, sarcoidosis, cancer. I know it's a wider net than you usually like to cast, but without the files, we have to start somewhere. I'll screen the results, and if I see something I'll let you know."

"Thanks," he said, his attention drifting out the window.

The older Callahan, Frank, was pacing outside. Frank looked as if the weight of the world was on his very shoulders. There was something about the devotion of a man, aged as he was, going so far to find a cure for his grandson, which House couldn't help but admire. House knew that if it was his own child, he'd go to almost any lengths to find a cure.

House found that quality, that one redeeming thing, that made Frank more tolerable to him. Of course, there was also the realization that this old man would do anything to save a member of his family, someone he treasured, but yet couldn't find the time to seek out his situationally disowned child. It was a start. House got up and left the room, and Cuddy knew exactly where the he was going.

House squinted through the brightness of the outside as he approached Frank. "Still waiting on the files," House said, "Running some tests for now."

"Thank you," Frank answered.

"Does your grandson have HIV?"

"No," Frank said, in a way that made House believe him instantly, and he nodded, conveying his belief to the old man. "Why would you ask that?"

"Symptoms fit. And if you already knew and were hiding it, waiting on treatment isn't going to help him. Better to just tell me now, let me do what I can."

"If it was AIDS, I'd tell you." Frank turned toward House, and said, "Listen, I'm a physicist. I worked in labs and wrote papers all of my life. I'm not a PR guy. I know I said stuff that pissed you off…I'm not good with people. But, I'd like to meet your children…my grandchildren." Frank was blunt, earnest. "I'd like to get to know you while I'm here."

House looked at him, obviously weighing the various thoughts that went through his head. "Don't expect a warm welcome from the kids."

"I wouldn't dream of it," Frank said with a smile.

House walked with Frank down along the periphery of the building, enjoying the beautiful subtropical day. "You know, I knew your mother forever," Frank said after silence. "When I met her, I was fourteen years old. First day of high school. I thought she was the most beautiful girl I had ever seen. I was positive I was going to marry her. Told her that before senior year. Losing her, over career…over one crazy argument, really…changed me."

House was watching intently. He could see Frank trying to read him, trying to tell if House was open to hearing about the past. Noticing that House clearly didn't mind, but actually seemed interested, the old man kept talking. "So many times I wished I just would have attempted reconciliation sooner. Made that little effort to try to get her back. To win her over. I didn't. Pride, anger, fear of what her response would be. Do you know what it's like to love someone forever that it seems you just can't have?"

House half smiled at the old man, waiting quietly for the conversation to continue.

"I met my wife, Naomi, the year after I lost your mother. So different from her. I didn't want anything that would remind me of Blythe, but, no matter how much I hated to admit it, I never stopped loving your mother. I loved my wife, too. I proposed to another woman, married her, we had a family, I had huge professional successes, lived decades, and I never stopped loving Blythe. It's hard…it's…confusing, loving two women. I know it's wrong, but I couldn't stop loving either of them. We had our reconciliation, your mother and I, but by then, I was already married, already had children. When I heard your mother was pregnant, at first…I was sort of happy. She was more than willing to break things off with her husband. I thought that our indiscretion could actually lead to something good…but the thought of hurting Naomi… I went home, prepared to tell my wife…prepared to tell her I was leaving. I can see it perfectly in my mind after all of these years. She was home, cooking, pregnant herself, my sons were on the floor of the kitchen banging pans and making all kinds of noise I could barely stand, and I knew. I couldn't leave them. I couldn't abandon Naomi like that. Your mother had a husband, someone to help ease the burden. I know it sounds...horrible. It was the only decision I felt I could make at the time. When I went to talk to your mother, to tell her that I couldn't leave my family, I expected her to be angry with me. But I found, she felt the same way. She didn't want my wife and three kids to suffer, and she certainly didn't want to hurt her husband. She did care so deeply for him. It was one of the most difficult decisions I've ever made. For her too. I know it's so easy to say it was wrong in retrospect, but…I don't even know what the right decision was."

Frank stopped, looking fully at House, prepared to accept his anger, frustration or sadness, open to whatever his own son was prepared to say, but what he found on House's face was the last thing he expected: acceptance.

House simply nodded, he didn't say anything to make the old man feel better, or worse. House just nodded, and resumed walking. After a few minutes he said, "John House will always be my father. I don't know how much you know or don't know, or what you may have heard about him. What I can tell you about him, was that he didn't let his wife and her bastard son out to starve. I respect my dad. I hate him sometimes, too."

"Do you hate me?"

"I understand the way you look out for your family. Bringing your grandson here…must have been difficult. As for you and my mother…you had to deal with an unwanted child…at least an unplanned one. You tried to make the best decision, but you made one. The thing about making decisions with kids is…your decisions aren't just about you. Your choices impact an entire person who has no say in the matter," House shrugged. "I lived with your decision. Your decision became my reality…my everyday. But you, personally, weren't around enough to hate…or respect."

Frank nodded. An even sense of acceptance seemed to fall between them and they returned inside.

Walking back into his office and taking his seat, House thought about the irony of the fact that most people probably saw Frank Callahan or John House as fantastic fathers and husbands, while most people probably thought he would have been a terrible choice in either capacity.


-3 weeks after the clinic opened-

It was already a rough day. Ava and Jack were up in turns overnight, sick and coughing, never really settling into sleep. Arlene was visiting, her first visit to their new home, and she had complained nonstop about the move, and how the consistent ocean breeze was probably responsible for making the children sick. On top of everything, there was a case, a dying patient, who certainly couldn't wait for a more convenient day to be cured. When they were reviewing test results, House and Cuddy had the smallest disagreement over the meaning of a symptom, which escalated into a full out fight, probably the worst they had since their move.

"I really screwed up," House said, bustling into Kate's office.

"Nonsense, you always look great in thigh-highs."

"With Cuddy."

"Give her a half hour to cool off, then do one of those…things…that she finds irresistibly charming."

"Won't work this time."

"What did you screw up?" Kate asked, dropping the files she was looking through.

"I said something stupid. She seems more upset than usual."

"You're right, she's never heard you say something stupid before. She'll never recover," Kate answered sarcastically. "Seriously, she knows the difference between the stuff you say when you're fighting at work and the stuff you say at home."

House looked nervous. "Maybe there shouldn't be."

"Shouldn't be what?"

"A difference." House thought for a moment and then stood. "Thanks!" he shouted as he left her office.

House found Cuddy in the lab, waiting over results. "When I tell you your ass looks good when we're at work, you don't just forget that when we get home."

"Of course I don't just forget about it. I cherish all of those sweet sentiments you share with me," she said dryly.

"I mean the stuff I say at work, isn't isolated from the rest of us. It's still me saying it."

Cuddy sighed, "Yes, it's still you. I count the compliments you give me at work toward your required quota for the day."

"No, that's not what I mean. I mean that…whether I say nice things, or less than nice things, you remember them, and you still know it's me saying them. You don't just…compartmentalize work me and home me…even if you try to."

"What's your point in all of this?"

"We still need to fight at work, but I want to try to remember that certain things carry over. I'll try to avoid…those embellishments on the argument that may make you unhappy."

"Me too," she sighed again, still staring at the table in front of her.

"I mean, face it, when you called me an 'Overgrown Neanderthal' that's 'hung like a zebra,' do you really think that doesn't hurt?" he teased.

"Don't remember using those exact words," she said, chuckling slightly. "As for the zebra thing…with the stripes it's hard not to make that comparison."

House chuckled back at her, relieved to hear her joking with him again. "I was hoping you could help me count my stripes tonight, if you're done being mad at me."

"I think you're taking the fight more seriously than I am."

"You've barely spoken to me all day," he countered.

"Not because of the fight."

"Then why?"

"Working."

It was then that House felt that familiar flush of panic, "Whose labs are those?" He knew they had residents running lab work for the patient. "Fuck, Cuddy, what's wrong?"

She turned around, "I think I screwed up."

"What happened?"

"I'm sorry. I'm really sorry."

"Just tell me what happened," he said, his face covered in worry.

"I missed a pill. And now I'm late."

"Late…late?" he said, utterly shocked by her disclosure.

"Yea," she answered. "I figured you would have noticed. I thought maybe that's why you seemed…testy this morning."

"It's been kinda crazy between the kids and setting up shop here."

"I'm so sorry, House, I…"

"Don't be sorry," he said calmly. "I'm not…pissed."

"We can barely handle what we have!" she said nervously.

"It's just because they're sick and your mother's here. In two days, you'll be talking about how easy it is again. You know how it is, the rough times…seem rougher…good times…seem great. Just a few days ago, we were talking about what naturals we are."

"I'm way too old, everything that happened when I was pregnant with Jack," Cuddy looked nearly panicked. "The worry, the preeclampsia, the hormone coaster…is all of this ringing a bell?"

"We handled all of that pretty well, while trying to adopt Ava. We'd do what we could to manage the health risks. We love the kids," he said, calmly, "We would love another one just the same."

"Do you want another one?" she asked confused.

"Umm," House said as he thought of the answer, "I didn't think about it. If it's there, then yea."

"If it's there?" she asked, amused.

"I would never turn my back on you…or my kid."

"I know."

He picked her up onto the counter, standing between her legs and hugging her tightly to him, "I have this…" he bragged proudly, "I won it, and it's mine."

She smiled at him.

"This…" he said, his hands moving along her side, "Is what I want. So, whatever comes with it…is what I want."

"We agreed to stick with two."

"You're right. That settles it, we forgot to tell it the rules," he said nodding quickly, stepping away, and yelling at her abdomen, "Sorry, we already decided we just want the two."

Cuddy shook her head, shocked that she was laughing, shocked that she felt suddenly like things would be alright.

They heard the machine click behind them, signaling that the test results were complete. "We made this agreement long ago, same as last time…Whatever happens," House said calmly, nodding and returning to his spot against her.

"Whatever happens," Cuddy nodded back.

The words unspoken were numerous, meaningful and mutually understood. She reached back for the test results and sighed, "Oh, thank god!" she said smiling, holding out a slip of paper with results that stated without a doubt that Cuddy was not pregnant.

"I never thought I'd be happy to see a negative pregnancy test," she sighed.

House breathed a deep sigh and then looked at her suspiciously, "Are you disappointed?"

"Not disappointed, but it wouldn't have been terrible. Are you disappointed?" she asked.

"No," House answered, hesitantly."It would have been OK. I mean, I wouldn't have minded. You were one, hot knocked up mama."

Cuddy smirked, "Thanks."

"If you want to try again," he started to offer.

"House, it's ridiculous. If we were fifteen years youngerthen maybe. When I realized you were OK with it, I had a few seconds to flirt with the idea, and sure, there are nice things about it. You and I, togetherhave created some really beautiful things. But, as far as children, we need to be realistic. I'm so happy with what we have. And really, the best decision is to sit back and enjoy each other, and enjoy the kids we have. It's best for us, it's best for Ava and Jack because I don't want them to have to fight for our attention."

"Agreed."

"I thought I'd be alone forever, and now I have the kids, and you…so I'm good. It's the best decision for all involved."

"True. And we're just complete fools if we allow ourselves to be outnumbered," he plotted strategically.

Cuddy laughed, "They already seem to have the upper hand."


House was pulled back to the present moment while Cuddy entered his office, seeing House and Frank sitting together, appearing much less uncomfortable than they were earlier. When Cuddy smiled stiffly at Frank, he excused himself to walk to the restroom. When he was gone Cuddy said, "Preliminary results suggest it's not HIV."

House nodded, "The results suggest it's not…because it's not."

"Did Callahan tell you what the patient has?"

"No."

"You figured it out?"

"I think so. I just need to prove it. Trust me," he said, eyes skating over her. "Files in from his family doctor?"

"Not yet, I expect them within an hour or two."

"Frank wants to see the kids."

Cuddy nodded, "I'm not fond of him, but this is your call, House. As long as he's not alone with them. As far as I'm concerned, he's a stranger, I don't trust strangers alone with our kids."

House nodded, "Agreed. I don't want him up at our place either. Let's just…get something to eat here. We can wait for the results, have Jack and Ava come down here for dinner, he can see them."

"You know Ava's gonna say whatever's on her mind, right?"

House nodded, "Daddy's little girl. He wants to see what our family's like. So, we'll let him see what we're like."

"You sure you want to do this?"

"Yea, I'm sure."

Cuddy smiled, "I'll run up to Mel's and pick them up."