Hey, guys! Here's the next chappie. Thanks for all the reviews and comments!

Cuddy stepped into her daughter's bedroom. Sarah was sitting at her desk, her laptop open in front of her. She was typing and kept referring to the notebook on her desk. Cuddy crossed the room and lightly touched Sarah's hair.

"How's the project coming along?" Cuddy asked and let her daughter's hair fall through her fingers.

"Good, I think." Sarah turned and looked up at her mom. "How's Dad?"

"All right," Cuddy answered. "He wants to try to go into work tomorrow. I don't think it's a good idea, but we both know I can't stop that stubborn head of his."

"Yeah," Sarah agreed and put her attention back on her laptop.

Cuddy's eyebrows drew together. "How are you doing, hun? I know all of this hasn't really been easy on any of us."

Sarah shrugged. "I'm fine, I guess."

"If there's anything you want to talk about, let me know, okay?" Cuddy ran her fingers through Sarah's hair again.

Sarah pulled away. "Okay."

Cuddy began to leave, planning on checking on House and making sure he was all right. Sarah turned in her chair and placed her eyes on her mother.

"Mom?" Sarah stopped her.

Cuddy spun around. "Yeah?"

"Would you and Dad be together if you never had me?" Sarah asked.

"I," Cuddy paused. "I don't know. Probably not. But, maybe. It's not important anyway because we do have you. Why do you ask?"

Sarah stared at her mom. "If I gave Dad part of my liver and something happened to me, would you stay together?"

Cuddy opened her mouth to give her daughter a 'yes,' but as she thought about it, she realized how hard it would be to see House, with part of her daughter's liver, every day if Sarah died. She shook her head.

"I don't know," Cuddy said.

"Don't leave him if something happens," Sarah told him.

"We don't even know if he'll get your liver, all right?" Cuddy replied gently. "You don't need to think about these things, Sarah."

Sarah deflated slightly. "Yeah, I know."

She turned back to her computer and continued working. Cuddy waited a moment, but then took that as her cue to leave.

Cuddy pulled her vibrating phone out of her purse and checked to see who was calling. She ignored the call and when she glanced up, House was already heading for the elevators.

"Hey," Cuddy called out and followed after him. "Wait a minute."

House didn't want to stop, but he did anyway. He turned to face her. "I've got a lot of work to do."

Cuddy stopped in front of House and locked eyes with him. "You have to take it easy. And I don't want you staying here late."

"I'm fine," he told her.

"You're not fine," Cuddy replied. "Please, Greg, take it easy. You have to be careful."

"Cuddy, I'm feeling well enough to work so let me, okay?" House raised his eyebrows at her.

Cuddy hesitated and then gave a nod. "Yeah."

House turned from her and limped toward the elevator. Cuddy opened her cell phone and dialed the last person who called. She listened to the phone ring as she headed for her office.

House opened Wilson's office door and stuck his head in.

"I need to talk to you," he said.

"Okay," Wilson got the word out before House ducked out and shut the door.

Wilson stood from his desk and left his office, leaving his work behind. He saw House up ahead and watched as House entered into his office. Wilson went down the hall after him and stepped inside House's office. House looked up at him as he moved around his desk.

"Shut the door," House told him.

Wilson made sure the door was closed as House sat down behind his desk. Wilson crossed the room and took a seat across from House's desk.

"Well?" Wilson prompted when House didn't say anything.

"I, um." House diverted his eyes to his desk. "I think..." He paused and then brought his eyes to Wilson. "I think I should have my leg taken off."

"What?" Wilson was unsure of what House was saying.

"Amputated," House clarified.

"Oh." Wilson gave a short nod.

"It would be for the best, I think," House went on. "The pain of an amputation would go away. This pain," he indicated his thigh, "has just been getting worse."

"So, you'd actually let someone cut your leg off?" Wilson asked, not believing a word of what House was telling him.

House leaned back in his chair. "What other choice do I have?"

"What did Lisa say?" Wilson replied.

House leaned forward and shook his head. "I didn't mention it to her yet."

Wilson eyed him up. "You really want to do this, though?"

"Why not?" House shrugged. "I'd get a C-leg prosthetic and be part machine. It's just too bad that I'd have to give up a perfectly good foot and lower leg first."

Wilson's eyebrows drew together, concerned. "How long have you thought about this? You can't just make this kind of decision over a few weeks."

"I've thought about it for a few years," House confided. "I've done my research. I wanted to wait it out, to see if maybe I could continue dealing with this pain, with the stiffness, with the inability to walk on some days because it was too painful and too stiff. I'm tired of it. Besides, I'm dying. And if I am going to live, I'm not going to live in pain."

"You could still live in pain, Greg," Wilson pointed out. "You could have phantom pain. It'd be like your leg never left."

House shook his head. "I wouldn't have phantom pain."

"You have a higher chance of having pain because you're already in pain," Wilson told him.

House let out a sigh. "I know. But, it could go away. Or not be as constant as my pain now. There's a few treatments and preventative measures. Even some hippie treatment crap."

Wilson was still unsure. "You're serious about this?"

"Yes," House answered.

"You'll have to go through therapy," Wilson said.

"I know," House replied.

Wilson narrowed his eyes. "You're never good with therapy."

"I know." House gave a short nod.

"You always push your limits." Wilson pointed his finger. "And you're not as young as you once were."

House made a face. "I'd behave."

"Yeah, right." Wilson rolled his eyes.

"I wouldn't screw things up," House's tone was completely serious. "I know it's a huge decision, but I don't want to live like this anymore. Besides, if I can kick the drugs, maybe I'll still be around to see any grandchildren I may have someday. I'd be the cool grandpa with the bionic leg."

Wilson smirked slightly, finding it almost strange to hear his friend speak of being a grandfather. If this was twenty years ago, he never would have believed it. Wilson leaned forward in his chair, coming back to seriousness.

"Your health isn't the best," Wilson's tone matched House's serious one. "Especially after everything you put yourself through. The drugs, the drinking, all the times you almost died."

"I know," House agreed with him. "But, this will give me a shot. I... just need a liver. I'm willing to risk it, phantom pain and all, if it'll give me more time. I wouldn't care if this was just about me, but it's about her. It's about Sarah."

"Greg, it might be worse for you to have your leg taken off," Wilson said.

"Then, what's the point of getting a new liver if I'm going to destroy it again?" House asked him, annoyed with his whole situation. "I... I need to do something."

"But, is it worth amputating your leg if it won't help?" Wilson replied. "Is it worth it if you'll still have to take pain meds?"

"It'll be worth it even if I only get a few days a month when I don't have to take any painkillers," House decided.

Wilson sighed. "Greg, you could have pain everyday."

"Are you on my side or not, Wilson?" House shot back.

"Of course I'm on your side," Wilson told him. "I just wouldn't want you to go through all of that if it wouldn't make any difference."

"Yeah." House looked down at his desk. "It's just something to think about."

Wilson nodded and then stood to his feet. "I've got to meet with a patient. Take it easy, House. You're not looking well."

House glanced up at Wilson and then diverted his eyes back down to the papers on his desk.