...

4:30am

House's heart beat faster as the elevator delivered him to the intensive care unit.

He hesitated before escaping the tranquility of the elevator car.

He was met again by the gray haired doctor.

"House." the doctor acknowledged him a low monotone. "The baby. She's weaker." He let the words set the mood of the conversation.

"And she needs an immediate blood transfusion... It has to be your blood."

The doctor continued, as if he was expecting House's answer to be reluctant, "If she doesn't receive the blood - "

House nodded. "Okay." He didn't hesitate to agree.

He wasn't going to let her die because of him.

She was going to live. She had to live.

5:20am

House was back in Cuddy's hospital room, after successfully transferring his blood to the premature baby. The last news he had received was that her heart rate was now stable, and she appeared to be stronger, however, still under close supervision in the NICU.

House was exhausted.

But he had finally fallen into a deep sleep in the chair beside Cuddy.

His head was filled with muddled happenings of the past night, his mind unconsciously fearing the events to come.

The nightmare he experienced tossed his weary thoughts into a swirl of terror and confusion...

He was in the dark hallway of the hospital.

Approaching in front of him, with a sinister smirk upon his face and eyes that burned like charcoal, was the elderly doctor. He was running now.

To the right of him was Cuddy, alseep in the tiny bedroom. Silent.

To his left, the frail infant; captive of the NICU. Silent.

His head and heart pounded in simultaneous, erratic rhythms.

The doctor was now running towards him.

"Dead." He repeated. "Dead."

To the right of him, he could hear Cuddy awaken. She let out a terrified scream that soon transitioned to a fit of coughing. The thundering cough grew louder, as it echoed off the walls, persisting.

To his left he heard the pleading wails of a baby.

"Dead." The wrinkly-faced doctor insisted.

Screaming.

Coughing.

Wailing.

The shadows of the dark night consumed House, pressed against him like brick walls.

His legs were paralyzed beneath him.

He couldn't move.

The doctor ran toward him, faster.

"Dead!" He was screaming the word now.

His teeth shone in the gleam of the moon that reflected from the skylight above.

"DEAD!"

The single threatening word burned in House's ears.

He shivered.

The impossible darkness became an even thicker haze of black.

He heard the frantic, raging spell of coughing to his right.

She was barely able to breath now as the coughs slapped against her lungs.

House was frozen to the ground. Unable to run to her.

Suddenly he couldn't hear anything from her hospital room. Silent.

"DEAD!" The doctor stood inches from House's face, a horrifying cackle ripped from his throat.

...

The doctor's last declaration jolted House awake.

"Cuddy!"

She was asleep. Breathing. Alive.

House felt a surge of relief pulse through his body.

But this relief was soon shattered by the spasm of pain that shot through his thigh.

He grabbed at his leg, and stiffly pulled himself from the chair.

6:07am

House was leaning against the wall of the hallway, eyes closed, lips drawn in a scowl, as a sharp pain rang through his head and leg.

Suddenly he heard the voice of a younger man near him.

Kutner!?

"Um, House?" The doctor, and member of his diagnostics team, spoke beside him.

"What?" House responded, the bitter edge he intended to line the word with was dulled by his sleep coated voice. He kept his eyes shut, didn't move his head.

All three members of his team were standing beside him. Taub answered.

"We just wanted to know if you - "

"- Have a case for us to work on." Thirteen quickly cut Taub off, glaring at him, and inserted a different answer than he had planned on speaking.

"Right." Kutner agreed with her.

Then, noticing that the scowl on House's face remained there, he quickly added, "Yup. 'Kay. Nevermind. Bye."

"Let's go." Kutner whispered to the other two doctors, but they already shared the same agenda and hurried back down the hall.

The trio bumped into Wilson as they made a turn for House's office.

"Wha-" Wilson swerved, trying to balance the paper tray he was holding that contained two hot coffees. He came to a stop, leaning back against the heels of his shoes. He groaned as he looked down at his tie, now splattered with coffee.

"Sorry!" Kutner, Taub, and Thirteen apologized to the oncologist, who, like their boss, appeared to have been awake most of the night.

"Yeah." Wilson smiled sincerely, but he was so tired it was difficult to look convincing.

He walked past them and handed House a coffee. "Hey."

"Hey." House opened his eyes and took the drink gratefully.

"So," Wilson began quietly, before taking a gulp of the beverage that burned his mouth. "Is everything here...erm, okay?" His voice shook slightly as he delivered the last word

House looked down, studying the lid on the paper coffee cup between his hands, "Just dandy." He managed to croak a remark of sarcasm. But there was an absence of humor, and he didn't smile.

There was an awkward silence between the friends.

Wilson took another sip of his coffee, House just starred.

"Things will work out, House." Wilson muttered, "They always do. Things are - " He searched for his usual optimism but the reassuring words sounded forced.

"No." House said in a small voice. He took his eyes of the cup, and brought them to Wilson, "Not for Cuddy."

Wilson stayed silent. House didn't continue.

"What do you mean?" Wilson's voice was quiet.

"If this baby dies," House paused before his voice rose slightly, "It won't be okay. Not for her. Not again..." He let the words fade away, shoved them out of his head.

Not again...

The words filled the silence they had left.

Not again.

As if in response, his pager beeped for the second time that morning.

6:26am

"Her body is very weak. It's giving up." House stood in front of the man who was delivering the words, from outside the NICU.

"Your daughter is - "

The word daughter shot a blaze of agonizing pain searing through his body.

House threw himself towards the door of the NICU.

He shoved the glass door of the doctor's entrance aside, ripping the door from the frame that secured it shut, and stammered forward.

His icy blue eyes frantically scanned the numerous incubators.

He thrust his way through the crowded rows and came to an abrupt halt.

Avery Juliet Cuddy

2 lbs. 11 oz.

Lisa Cuddy and Gregory House

A small, white rectangular sign stuck to the side of her incubator.

House's eyes peered through the confines at the little infant that lay against the white cloth.

She was no taller than the length of a teddy bear, and not that much heavier, either.

The fragile little baby was turned slightly to the side, her eyelids, not yet strong enough to open, hid the shiny blue eyes behind them.

"Damn it!" House yelled, suddenly, the thundering expletive echoed through the usually serene environment. "YOU'RE NOT GOING TO DIE!"

Wilson rushed to the door, "House, what the hell are you doing!?"

House didn't respond to Wilson's panic-stricken voice, but continued, his eyes glarring down at the small tube inserted in the tiny infant's trachea.

"You think you're gonna get off easy? You think it'll all be fine if you just give up? It's not like that!" He directed his deafening rant to the little girl, "You don't get to be weak!"

Wilson's stood in shock as he watched from the doorway, his eyes wide with confusion, "What the...? House!!"

"YOU DON'T GET THE EASY WAY OUT!" There was a long silence that sent shivers down everyone's spines. Now both Wilson and the doctor were at the door way, behind them, a grouping of nurses pressed to get through.

"What are you doing?!" One of the nurses screamed to House, pushing past the oncologist. "That's your daughter! ...she's dying and you're - "

"She's not dying!" House shot back to the woman without taking his eyes of the baby. He ignored the frantic muttering of the nurses and continued, now talking to the body inside the incubator,"You're life might be one hell of struggle," He spat the words out with force.

No one else in the room spoke. Every set of eyes was watching House, paralyzed with shock, and afraid to interrupt him.

House felt another current of pain strangle the muscles in his thigh, he grabbed at his leg and starred down at it as he continued.

"But your life - " He clenched his thigh harder now as if the words triggered the pain, the looked back down at the tiny baby that so suddenly reminded him of Cuddy, "Your life won't be miserable."

The words were quiet, holding a simple promise that House swore to keep. But he realized that this promise would be nothing but a useless statement if she died.

House stepped away from the incubator and limped his way through the audience of hospital staff he had attracted to the scene.

He shoved himself past the crowd and out of the NICU, followed by Wilson.

"House..."

"She's not going to die." House answered, both to himself and to his friend. He kept his eyes straight ahead.

Wilson held his tongue, afraid anything he said would be followed by a reaction he didn't want to deal with.

So the two walked in silence, with no clear destination, towards the other end of the hall.

...

Thanks again for reading this! Reviews and constructive criticism are always appreciated. :) They really help a lot!

Also, here's the deal: I'm going to be out of town and without internet for about 2 - 3 weeks, starting tomorrow, AH! Which means I won't be reading or uploading any Fan Fiction for that time. LOL (sort of). So, although I'll probably be writing more, or at least in my head, this story won't be updated for a while. EEK. Yeah, so sorry about that and I hope to continue this story when I get back, it's really been interesting to write and I'm planning a few ideas for what to write next. Yay.

THANKS!!