Cuddy's affairs had been set in order. Everything she could think of had been set; ready for everyone to move on. House couldn't believe how well organised she had been. He couldn't exactly concentrate on how efficient her work had been. He had been completely unaware of anything around him (apart from Rachel of course) for about a week. He was caught up with his own thoughts.
Changing diapers, feeding, burping, dressing and washing Rachel had all seemed to fall into a daily routine. House barely needed to think about it any more. But he still felt nothing for little Rachel. He wanted to, for Lisa.
He hadn't actually talked to anyone since… He was so surprised when her funeral had come around.
House looked up at the crowded church. In the front pew, Wilson sat with Rachel. House sighed and shifted his tie.
"They asked me to speak today," He said. "I don't know why. I'm not good at these speeches…" He looked back at the coffin nestled with white roses. He licked his lips. "I don't believe in god. I never have. How could I believe in him when so much pain and heartache exists in this world?" He sighed. "Lisa Cuddy wasn't a hero. She wasn't a saint. It would be wrong to remember her as that. But she was important. To me, to her daughter… To her patients… She was good hearted, kind with strong morals and a sense of justice. What happened to her was unjust, cruel and heartless. She should never have died." He looked back up at them. "Lisa helped people in their darkest hours. She helped me when I most needed her. She was there for Rachel's real mother in her last hours and she took Rachel in when no one else would. For those deeds we should remember her."
There was a moment of silence. House twisted his cane limping back to the pew to sit back down with Wilson. He handed Rachel over in her pretty pink blanket. She made no motion that her mother was gone. House rested the child onto his lap.
"How are you?" Wilson asked.
"I'm fine," House replied. "I'm glad,"
"Glad that she's dead?" Wilson asked.
"No!" House snapped. "Of course not. I'm glad that she's not in pain, that she's not suffering…" He sighed and looked down at Rachel. "God, I miss her…"
Wilson nodded. The procession began to break up. House put Rachel back into her pram and stood up. Wilson took a hold of the pram and wheeled it down the aisle as House limped behind.
"You're a bastard,"
House turned to see Lucas standing at the pew. His face stained with tears and he looked rough. House frowned. "How am I so?" He asked.
He didn't know how it happened but Lucas's fist came into contact with his jaw. House stumbled, but Wilson pushed him upright. He stared at the furious little man.
"You stole her from me!" Lucas bellowed. "Rachel was my responsibility! Cuddy was my girlfriend and you stole them both from me,"
House checked his lip. It was bleeding. Lucas stood shaking furiously. House sighed. "I'm sorry," He said sincerely. "I'm sorry that she left you, but… "
"Don't you dare," Lucas said. "Don't you fucking dare! She loved me! Not you! She never loved you!"
"What on earth?" The priest forced himself between the two men. "This is a church! The house of God! A place of love! There will be no anger!"
Lucas looked at the priest, then at House. He pushed past them.
…
House read the letter carefully. Wilson watched him.
"Well?" He asked.
House sighed limping over to the seat handing it to the oncologist. Wilson read it over, his face frowning slightly.
"21st of July," Wilson muttered. "They've asked you to get yourself checked out; medical, psychological. Damn that's gonna be tough especially since you've been seeing Nolan for so long,"
"We've been getting on better," House grunted.
"Really?" Wilson asked. It was rhetorical, he wasn't looking for an answer. House didn't reply. They sat in uneasy silence for a while.
House tapped his knees before getting up and limped into her room.
Her cot was centred in the middle of the room surrounded by boxes filled with her clothes and her other essentials. He would need to sort it out. Wilson called something from the living room and there was a slam at the door before House could reply.
Rachel was sleeping in the tiny cot. House was watching her. What the hell was he doing? He wasn't cut out to be a father. Why hadn't Cuddy entrusted Wilson with her child? Wilson was a lot more caring, a lot more dopey eyed than House. Even House admitted that he was the last person who should care for a kid. But Cuddy wanted him to take care of this child that she called her daughter. In his hand he clutched Cuddy's letter. He was thinking whether he should open it or not.
Rachel yawned and House smiled, just a little. Mother's often thought that their baby was the most precious, most beautiful thing alive. Cuddy had a right to think that Rachel was adorable, but House couldn't exactly see the appeal. Babies were smelly, annoying, whining brats and that was a general fact. But House had known this child… Her history… Could he be the father he wanted? Could House become the father that he wanted from his own childhood? House felt all his insecurities return to him. He couldn't take care of Rachel, he'd screw up her life with his constant pain addiction, erratic job, his early morning piano concerts everything that made House, House was almost an impossible thing for a young child to live with.
He went through to the living room, still wrapped in his concerns and tried to unload some of the boxes. He had just moved here last week and aside from Wilson taking all Rachel's things from Cuddy's to House's new apartment, House had not been yet able to create an environment that suited him and this new person in his life. He had so many things to do; taxes, mortgages. He had no idea about this sorta stuff. How could he handle a baby when he could barely take care of himself?
Absorbed in his own thoughts, he did not notice that Rachel was crying. He sighed and went through to her room and placed his cane against her tiny white chest of drawers. He checked her temperature, checked her diaper, tried to feed her… Nothing worked. He picked her up, rocking her slowly in his arms.
"Why won't you stop crying?" He asked mournfully. She looked up at him. "Please… Rachel…"
Suddenly, her tiny face broke into a smile.
"That's it?" He asked. "All I needed was to say your name?"
She blinked at him. He smiled softly. She gurgled happily and reached up to touch his scruffy face with her little hand. He let her touch his cheek, smiling gently at her.
"Hey," He whispered. "You barmy, eccentric monster,"
She gurgled again, it lit up House's heart like a fire. She curled her tiny fingers around House's pinky finger and put it in her mouth. He watched her do so.
"What am I going to do with you?" He said. He picked up his cane, holding Rachel close as he limped through to the living room. It was a difficult thing to do and House was terrified that he would drop her. He pushed the boxes of the couch and sat down. Rachel was now grasping his shirt. He smiled watching her.
"I am going to make your life so wonderful," He promised. "I'm going to be the best daddy ever. I love you Rachel and I will always love you. I promise."
YEP I'M BACK!
BE AFRAID! MWHAHAHAHAHA
