Chapter 7-House

He swore he could feel that heartbeat in his stomach. Staring at the small, moving watermelon on the screen that was currently taking up space in Cameron's uterus, feeling her tiny hand wrapped around his and seeing how she automatically reached out to share the joy of the moment, without expectation, despite how she felt about him, House felt…numb.

It was like something inside him had shifted and the earth was moving and if he let it the bottom was going to drop out, and he wasn't sure he could deal with that. He wasn't Cameron, beaming at the picture on the screen now with beatific happiness. She had let go of his hand almost as quickly as she had grabbed it, her fingers now resting on the cold tabletop beneath her, but she flicked her glance his way occasionally, trying to judge his reaction, and he forced himself to put on his best doctor face to cover up the fact that he didn't feel anything. Anything at all.

Instead, he focused on the screen, concentrating on thinking like a doctor rather than a father-to-be, comparing baby's size and organs to where they were supposed to be at this stage. Cameron had been right, although he'd never admit it to her. There was clearly some reduced blood flow getting to the baby, probably a result of her high blood pressures, but it wasn't too bad. Overall, baby looked good.

Now they just had to make sure it stayed that way.

"Alright, all done." The ultrasound technician turned and smiled at Cameron. "You can get cleaned up and head back upstairs."

"Thanks." Cameron's voice was softly husky, the way it was when she was trying not to cry, but she took the paper towels he passed her and wiped the gel off her skin without shedding a tear. She spun around to the edge of the bed and he automatically stood, reaching a hand out to help her down and ignoring the surprised look on the tech's face before he turned and walked out of the room.

"All set?" House asked her, and she smiled politely, her eyes vacant now as she reached out to grab her purse off the windowsill. It was like looking at a different person from the one that had reached out to him before, and he realized suddenly he didn't like it. Not coming from her. Impersonal, hiding behind barriers, that was his gig, not Cameron's.

"Pretty sure the doctors screwed up," he said casually as they walked back toward the elevators. He saw her head jerk his way in surprise, her eyebrows raised, and he smiled to himself. It didn't matter how much she hated him right now, she still had faith in his medical opinion.

"How so?"

"Pretty sure you're actually growing an alien watermelon in there. Not surprising, considering it's my kid, but…ouch!" He looked at her with mock hurt, rubbing his shoulder where she'd smacked him. "What was that for?"

"Because you're a jerk." She was smiling now, just a little. "You actually had me worried for a minute."

"Why?" He shrugged, stepping into the elevator and reaching out to keep it from closing on her. "You have the same MD I do. You don't need an overpriced specialist to tell you what you already know."

She was silent, but still smiling, and he wasn't sure which one of them was more surprised when he reached out to brush a piece of hair out of her face. "It's going to be okay," he told her softly, not sure if he was trying to reassure her…or himself.

He still wasn't sure two hours later, when he'd ditched Cameron, banished his team to go start antibiotics on their patient whose name he still didn't know but who they'd finally diagnosed with leprosy, and settled into his office to stare disinterestedly at the pile of mail on his desk. Thirteen wasn't as efficient as Cameron at dealing with his paperwork-she seemed to have this weird idea that he should do it himself.

"So how did it go?" He looked up in surprise to see Cuddy standing in front of his desk, fingers tapping restlessly against the side of her skirt. He gestured to one of the overstuffed chairs, mostly so she'd stop looming over him. "The patient? He almost killed himself so he didn't have to admit to his wife he had a girlfriend overseas, but a good dose or two and he should be back to lying in no time."

"Not what I meant, although that's good to know," she said, deliberately overlooking his obnoxiousness. He hated when she did that. It meant she had something serious she wanted to talk about, and she was going to overlook all the roadblocks he threw up until she got to the point. She had, he acknowledged wryly, known him far too long. "How was Cameron's appointment?"

"Scintillating." At her arched eyebrows, he rolled his eyes. "I see Wilson filled you in."

"He told me this was your baby." Her eyes were compassionate now. "How are you doing?"

"Me? I'm not the one growing an alien watermelon." His lips quirked, remembering the smack he'd gotten from Cameron earlier that day. Cuddy smiled.

"Somehow, that wouldn't surprise me. Although hopefully it'll have enough of Cameron in it to make it at least halfway human." Her face sobered. "I know this is huge for you. If there's anything you need…"

"A month off clinic duty?" he asked hopefully.

She was the one that rolled her eyes this time. "Not a chance." Standing up, she tapped the front of his desk. "If you need someone to talk to, either of you, I'm here." Her smile twitched at the edges. "I have to say, I'm impressed you haven't run screaming for the hills by now."

"Thought about it," he admitted, before he could censor himself. He debated stopping there, then figured what the hell. He'd known Cuddy since med school, and she and Wilson were the closest thing he had to friends. "I'm going to screw this up. You know that, right?"

Realizing that he wanted to talk, possibly for the first time ever, Cuddy sat back down in her chair. "What makes you say that?"

"Oh, come on. Don't be dense." House gestured around his office with his cane. "This, this is what I'm good at. I'm not good at…people. Sitting in that ultrasound today, she was all smiles and sunshine and I…wasn't." He sighed, tapping his cane on the floor. "You know, she wasn't going to tell me. Maybe it would have been better that way."

"No it wouldn't." Her voice was firm. "You're going to doctor's appointments, making sure she takes her medicine. Dr. Lee's office tells me you were almost tolerable. You're here, and you're trying. That's what counts."

"But is it enough?"

The question popped out before he could stop it. Cuddy smiled, pushing to her feet and walking around the desk to squeeze his shoulder. "That's going to be up to her. But while you're figuring that out, you might want to figure out why you're doing all of this. Like you said, you're not good with people. Normally this is the kind of commitment you'd run from like someone lit your tail on fire. So what's making you stick around when Cameron's doing everything possible to push you away?"

Standing on Wilson's doorstep later that night, he shifted the package in his arms uncomfortably and rang the doorbell again, Cuddy's words playing in an endless, irritating monotone in the back of his head. He knew Wilson was working, which meant Cameron should have been home alone. But the apartment was dark, and no one was answering the door. She must have gone out.

He knew it was ridiculous, but he couldn't help the sharp stab of worry as he settled down onto the stoop to wait. And because it had always been easier for him to get mad than be worried, he'd worked his way well past irritated into infuriated when her car pulled into the parking lot an hour and a half later.

"House!" Cameron stepped out of her car, the wind making the lacy skirt of the maternity dress she'd worn dance around her feet. She glanced up at the dark, gloomy sky, the lightning dancing from cloud to cloud threatening a wicked spring storm. "What are you doing here?"

"Better question is, what aren't YOU doing here," he corrected, struggling to his feet and scooping up the package he'd brought before standing back so she could unlock the door and let them both in. It occurred to him that he had a key to Wilson's, he could probably have handled that part himself. But the martyrdom of sitting out on the front stoop hoping the sky wasn't going to open up seemed better suited to his mood. "I figured you'd be home with your feet up, not god knows where doing god knows what with god knows who."

"I had dinner with Foreman and his new girlfriend, not that it's any of your damn business," she told him haughtily, hanging her keys on Wilson's tidy little key rack. House eyed it with distaste. She was already picking up Wilson's fussy-assed habits. "Let's get one thing straight, House. This may be your baby, but that absolutely, positively, in no way makes you my boss. In fact, the farther you keep your nose out of my business, the happier we're all going to be."

"Not what you said this afternoon," he shot back, wanting to kick himself when he saw the defensive light flare into her eyes. Damn it, this was not how he wanted this to go. Realizing that she was primed for a fight, it was unfortunately going to fall to him to diffuse the situation. Not his strong suit on a good day, but…"I'm sorry."

The words almost choked him coming out, but the instant wary confusion on her face was worth it. "Sorry for what?"

"For…everything," he told her quietly. "For being such an ass to you for six years that you couldn't tell me you were having my kid. For getting you pregnant. For not being a better person. Hell Cameron, pick one. I'm sorry for all of it."

She stared at him, wide eyed, stunned speechless. He could see her bottom lip beginning to quiver, and cursed under his breath. "Here." He shoved the package he'd brought into her hands, then shifted uncomfortably on his cane while she looked at it with wary eyes.

"House…"

"Just open the damn thing," he grumbled, uncomfortable. "And none of that girly tape peeling crap you do either. I'm going to be dead before you get it open if you do that."

She snorted. "Promises, promises." And sure enough, she took every piece of tape off the package before she peeled the top back. The stunned surprise on her face was worth every second of the humiliation he'd felt at the baby store as person after person asked if he was buying a present for his grandson.

"House, this is…I don't even…" Holding up the tiny toddler outfit, complete with jeans, Harley t-shirt and a leather jacket that looked just like his own, she huffed out a breath. "This is gorgeous."

"Yeah, well, I figured the kid would get enough puky pink crap from your side of the family," he said, shifting from side to side before giving up and sinking down into a kitchen chair. "She needed something decent the first time she wrecks her tricycle."

Cameron sat down next to him, spreading the little outfit out on the table. Crap, she was going to cry. With a martyred sigh, he pushed himself to his feet and grabbed the paper towels off the counter, shoving the entire roll at her.

"Why (hic) are you (hic) doing this?" she sniffled miserably, wiping her face frantically. "Damn it (hic), House, I was all set to forget about you. Why did you (hic) have to (hic) go and turn into a decent person (hic) now?"

"Decent might be pushing it a little," he said dryly, then sighed, leaning forward so his chin rested on his cane and he could see Cameron's face. "I have no idea how to be a decent father," he confessed. "My own wasn't exactly a sterling example, and as you can see, I'm not exactly the type to rise above adversity and become a stellar human being." His brutal honesty was rewarded by a quick laugh.

"I don't want my kid to think of me as the guy who knocked her mom up and walked away," he told her softly. "I don't…really want her mom to think of me that way either. I don't have the first clue how to do this-any of this. I'm trying, and it still seems like I screw it up every time I turn around, and god knows my best probably isn't going to be good enough, but I figure that's what the kid has you for."

"One of us has to make sure she doesn't grow up needing years of therapy," agreed Cameron. He was embarrassed to realize there were tears stinging the back of his own eyes and burning their way down his throat as the mantle of numbness started to thaw.

The sheer awesomeness of what he was about to try and do was overwhelming. He was going to be a dad. He might be a crappy one, but he was the only one his little girl had and he didn't want to get pushed out of the picture. And the only way that was going to happen was if he could convince her mother he was serious about this.

"Don't…don't push me out, please," he told her, deliberately looking past her so he didn't have to meet her eyes. He was banking awfully hard on Cameron's good nature in that moment, and even he knew it. "I know I've done absolutely nothing to deserve it, but…please. Just don't."

"House…" Cameron's voice trailed off and she looked at him helplessly. "What am I supposed to say to that?"

"Say you'll give me a chance." Looking up, he was relieved to see confusion and fear instead of anger on her face.

"I've given you a million chances. Why is this one going to be any different?"

"Because I'm going to earn it this time." Taking the risk, he reached out and lifted her hand off the table, lightly running his thumb across her fingers. "I'm going to screw up-I know that. But I'm going to try. For the baby, I'm going to try."

So, what do you guys think? Think House can get it together? Or do you think it'll all blow up in his face? I LOVE feedback, so feel free to chime in on where you think things are going from here. As always, many thanks to everyone who's taken the time to read, follow and review. You guys are the best!