Hey, guys! This is the second to last chapter. I'm a bit sad about it. I'm going to miss this fic when it's done. Anyway, thank you for your amazing feedback. You guys are AWESOME. Enjoy!

Cuddy threw open her front door. It was a little after five thirty and she was still in her work clothes. House stared at her, expectantly.

"Hi." Cuddy sighed and stepped back. "Come in."

"What's wrong?" House entered her home.

"Sarah's upset." Cuddy closed the front door behind House.

"Why?" House's eyebrows drew together.

"She wouldn't tell me," Cuddy replied.

"Where is she?" House asked, looking around.

"Locked herself in the bathroom," Cuddy answered.

House raised his eyebrows. "Don't you have a key?"

"Yes," Cuddy snapped. "But I'm not going to just barge in there when-"

"You're upset," House finished.

"Yeah," Cuddy agreed. "And I can't force her to talk to me. Maybe you should just come over tomorrow night instead. I haven't made dinner because I was trying to get her to talk to me and-"

"Let me try," House suggested.

Cuddy shook her head apprehensively. "House."

"She likes me, remember?" House reminded her.

"Hey." Cuddy frowned. "She likes me."

"But, she likes me more," House replied.

Cuddy rolled her eyes as House limped down the hall. He stopped outside of the closed bathroom door and knocked. There was no response.

"Hey, Mick, let me in," House said. "I thought we could talk about getting you a guitar."

"You're lying to her," Cuddy hissed in his ear.

"Am not," he shot back in a whisper. The lock clicked. "Anyway, it worked."

Cuddy backed away from House as the bathroom door opened a crack and one blue eye peered upwards. Sarah pulled the door open and let House enter before she shut the door. House limped to the toilet, lowered the lid, and seated himself. He indicated for Sarah to sit on the edge of the tub, directly across from him.

Sarah trudged to the tub and sat. Her eyes met House's and he could tell she had been crying, but that she wasn't going to continue crying in front of him. Just like her mother.

"What kind of guitar do you want?" House asked casually, twirling his cane between his fingers.

"I don't know much about guitars," Sarah replied.

House eyed her up. "What about color?"

Sarah gave a shrug. "I like pink."

"They have pink guitars with that cat," House told her. "The one with the bow on its head."

"Hello Kitty?" Sarah brought her eyes up to his face.

"Yep." House nodded. "I bet I could talk your mom into getting one."

Sarah looked hopeful, but then the small smile disappeared and she shrugged.

"What?" House drew back. "You don't want it?"

Sarah shrugged for a third time.

"Are you upset about something?" House asked. "Or do you always play in the bathroom after school?"

"I hate Melissa Struthers," Sarah told him.

House frowned. "Who's that?"

"A girl in my class." Sarah stood up and moved toward the door. "She thinks she's so pretty because Mike Rosetti likes her, but she's not pretty. She's dumb."

"Right, dumb," House agreed.

Sarah faced him. "She said I was weird."

"Did she?" House raised his eyebrows.

"Yeah." Sarah folded her arms across her chest. "She said that I was weird and Mom is the 'b' word."

"Rhymes with itch?" House asked her.

"Yeah," Sarah answered.

House watched her. "Do you think your mom's the 'b' word?"

"No!" Sarah exclaimed and made her way back to the bathtub. "And I told Melissa that and then she said I was the 'b' word, too. And she told all the other kids that I was the 'b' word and I'm not. Now all the kids hate me."

House shook his head. "They don't hate you."

"Yeah-huh." Sarah sat on the edge of the tub again. "They like her more than me so they'd listen to her."

"Do you know what happens to people like Alyssa?" House dropped his tone.

"Melissa," Sarah corrected.

"Right," House agreed.

"What happens?" Sarah asked quietly, looking curiously at him.

House took in a breath. "Well, her parents divorce, there's an awful custody battle between the drunk mom and infidel father, and then she grows up and becomes a real 'b' word."

Sarah stared at him, mouth slightly open. House leaned forward.

"Okay," he said. "Let me try again. You know what's so great about being in the second grade?"

Sarah hesitated. "What?"

"Kids forget everything a week later," House answered. "Maybe even a day later if there's something more interesting going on."

Sarah shook her head. "Nu-uh. They're going to hate me forever! And it's not even true what she said!"

"You know, when I was in second grade, the kids made fun of me," House told her.

"You're just saying that," Sarah replied.

"Nope." House gave a quick shake of his head. "My mom gave me an awful haircut. You ever see the cartoons where someone gets electrocuted and their hair sticks up in all directions?"

"Yeah," Sarah answered.

"That was me," House confided. "I posed for those cartoons in second grade."

Sarah frowned. "Nu-uh."

"Okay, so I didn't," House gave in easily. "But I did have an awful haircut and the kids made fun of me. Unlike your situation, I couldn't ignore them because it was true."

Sarah eyed him up, debating her trust in his story. "What did you do?"

"Nothing." House shrugged. "Cried a little. Hated my mom. And then three days later, someone caught this kid named Joseph picking his nose-"

"Ew." Sarah made a face.

"And the kids turned on him and no one made fun of my hair again," House said. "A week later, they forgot about Joseph Booger Eater, too. Now, why don't we get out of the bathroom, get some food, and try to talk your mom into buying a Hello Kitty guitar?"

Sarah nodded, still a bit somber. "Okay."

House led the way to the bathroom door and opened it. Cuddy was standing away from the door, her back turned. She spun around when the door opened. House led the way out, followed by Sarah.

Cuddy took a step closer to them. "Is everyth-"

"It's fine," House cut her off.

"Come here," Cuddy commanded her daughter gently.

Cuddy stretched her arms out and Sarah went to her. Cuddy hugged her daughter tightly and Sarah breathed in the familiar scent of her mother. Cuddy placed a kiss on Sarah's head.

"I love you," Cuddy told her.

"I love you, too, Mom," Sarah replied, hugging her mother tighter.

Cuddy rubbed Sarah's back. "How about you finish your homework while I make dinner, okay?"

Sarah drew back and looked up. "What're we having?"

"Breakfast," Cuddy answered her.

"Pancakes?" Sarah asked, raising hopeful eyebrows.

"Sure." Cuddy nodded

"With blueberries?" Sarah gave a smile

"If you want them," Cuddy replied.

"I do." Sarah pulled away from her mother and turned to House. "Do you, Dr. House?"

"Love blueberries," House said.

"Okay, 'cause then we have to tell Mom about the you know," Sarah whispered.

"Okay," House whispered back and gave her a nod.

Sarah walked down the hallway and retrieved her backpack from beside the front door. She carried it into the living room. Cuddy led House into the kitchen and spoke quietly as she drew the pancake mix and a pan from the cupboard.

"What happened?" Cuddy asked him.

House leaned against the door frame. "Some Melissa-"

"Struthers," Cuddy nodded, the name familiar.

"Yeah." House stepped into the kitchen. "Called her the 'b' word."

Cuddy froze, the box of pancake mix in one hand and the pan handle in the other. "What?"

House shrugged. "She said it rhymed with itch."

"Those kids don't even know what that means." Cuddy dropped the pan to the stove with a loud clank. "At least, they shouldn't. I'm calling Melissa's mother right now."

Cuddy set the pancake mix on the counter and moved toward the phone. House stepped in her way.

"You may have to make a few more phone calls than that," he told her.

"What do you mean?" Cuddy's eyebrows drew together.

"Apparently, Melissa told everyone and all the kids hate your daughter," House answered. "Mel's the little ringleader, isn't she?"

"Why didn't Sarah tell me?" Cuddy asked, taking a step away from House. "She doesn't usually-"

"Mel called you a bi-" he cut himself off. "The 'b' word, too."

"What?" Cuddy stared at him. "Where does this girl get that kind of language? I'm calling-"

"Don't." House shook his head.

"Don't?" Cuddy repeated. "Second graders shouldn't be using that kind of language. I'm calling the school and then Melissa's mother to see where she picks up-"

"Okay." House stopped her. "Call. Later. When I'm not here to hear it."

Cuddy frowned and attempted to pass House. "I should talk to Sarah."

"No." House gently took hold of her arm. "I handled it. You have to buy her a Hell Kitty guitar, though."

"Hello Kitty," Cuddy corrected.

"A pink one." House released her arm. "I told her I'd talk you into it."

"Thanks," Cuddy replied sarcastically.

"No problem," House responded with a shrug.

Cuddy hesitated and gave him a small smile. "Really, though. Thank you. For talking to her."

"She's my daughter too," House said and made his way over to the counter where he picked up the pancake mix.

"Yeah." Cuddy followed after him. "She is."