WARNING: the F word is in here a few times, but I wouldn't rate it a –M- as it isn't pertaining to sex.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

"Hi, Allison!" House said cheerily as he was talking to Cameron on the cell phone.

"Hey. How's it going?"

"Fine; we're on our way home now. We should be home by, like, 4ish."

"Okay, great. Wilson and I will have an early dinner ready for you."

"Lasagna?"

"No, Chinese."

"Okay, even better."

"Is Debra okay?"

House turned to look at his cousin, who was sitting in the passenger seat, staring out blankly at the front windshield. "Fine."

"Wilson's missing her."

"What? He didn't hit up on you, did he?"

"Shut up, House. Of course not. I miss you, too."

"Yeah, me too. You owe me."

"Uh, yeah, I know you owe me, BIG! See you when you get here."

"'Kay."

An hour had passed since House called Cameron on his cell phone, an hour and a half since they left Debra's parents' house, and they were on their way home to New Jersey. House was driving and the two cousins barely said a word to each other. House wasn't expecting her to be her normal talkative self, and he was fine with that. He had his own worries to think about.

His father never chased him from the kitchen when he stormed out, which was fine with him. As a matter of fact, John only spoke to House when he needed to the whole 24 hours they were in the midst of the other, which also was fine with him. What wasn't fine with him was when they left earlier that morning – after they'd eaten a full breakfast at a restaurant – as he was shaking his father's hand John leaned in and said, "I'm sorry."

Those two words tore through House as if a tornado came through and ripped out his heart. But his head, oh, that was another matter entirely. Two simple words from 47 years of his father's cruelness, harshness, coldness, just didn't seem to do it for him. Too little, too late.

But then he looked over at his cousin, who sat zoned out, no sedative required, and a thought came to him: Debra never heard those words from her father. He didn't know if it was a good thing or bad thing.

Then he thought of the afternoon of her father's funeral. She didn't shed a tear; she'd smile weakly at whoever was giving their condolences, of course, but she never cried. She clung onto House like a three-year old afraid to be left alone at a family reunion. And he was okay with it.

He thought of her reaction when her mother told her he had died of prostate cancer, but that didn't even elicit a tear from her. And House thought he was cold and callous.

But the letter caught the better of him and was curious as hell as to what was in it. When Debra whispered she had to go to the bathroom, they stopped at the first rest area they passed. He watched her as she walked into the ladies room, and thought it'd be best if she read it now, now that they were away from her parents' house. And also, if she became hysterical, she wouldn't grab the steering wheel and inadvertently hit a semi and kill them both.

He stepped out of the car, grabbed his cane and the letter from his jacket in the back, locked it and walked to the nearest picnic table. Just as he downed two Vicodin she walked out and he called out for her. She came over, confusion on her face as to why he was sitting there.

"Needed to stretch my leg," he told her, as if reading her mind. They did that a lot. She sat on the picnic table beside him, not even caring there was actually a bench to sit on.

After a long silence, House pulled out the envelope and handed it to Debra. She looked at it curiously then looked up at him.

"It's from…actually, I don't know."

"You read it," she said, looking away.

"Deb…I don't think I should."

"Just read the damn thing, will you?!"

House sighed, peeled away the seal and opened the letter. It was hand-typed in small print, with handwritten print at the top. House cleared his throat and read that first.

'He was too proud, honey. I hope you understand now. Love you, Mom.'

Debra stared out at the grass below their feet, emotionless.

'My dearest little girl, The reason why we never came to visit was because of this damned illness; I was diagnosed right after Christmas. I begged your mother not to tell you because, well, I don't know why. The chemo and radiation was pretty rough and…'

"Great! Now the bstard wants my sympathy? Jerk."

House didn't look up at her but continued to read.

'…and I didn't want you to see your old man like this. I fought it hard, real hard, for you, and only for you. I couldn't bear the thought…I just didn't want you to cry. I didn't want you to worry about me. I was protecting you…'

"Protecting me, my ass! Who was protecting ME when he was…"

House ignored her little side comments, because if he were her, he'd probably do the same thing and continued to read to hold back what he knew was coming.

'…oh, honey, I loved you, still love you, as I cling on for my last breath…'

"Little dramatic, don't you think?" she said coldly.

'…I'm thinking of you. I only wished I could have seen Gregory. But you never sent pictures or…doesn't matter. I'll see him soon enough. I'll always watch after him, as I'll watch after you. And I know I haven't said it often enough, or even once for that matter, but I'm so, so very proud of you for what you've accomplished in your life.'

Debra was still, so still they could hear the crickets under the picnic table brush their wings together in search of a mate, without producing their tell-tale signs of calling. House stopped and looked at her, her face, her breathing, anything that might tell him she was about to lose it. But, she appeared fine, or more like not about to go beserk.

'I wished I'd told you. But, by the time you read this, I'll be gone. I hope you remember the good times, angel, because I always made sure you had them. I wanted you to be happy, and I want you to be happy now..now that I'm gone. All I can say is I hope you can forgive me. With all my love, Dad.'

House looked at her, still expecting her to say something or lash out or curse. But she was calm.

"Okay, you've read it. Let's go home." Her voice was calm, not shaky, not angry.

House's head flew back in surprise at her nonchalance and watched her step off the table and take a few steps to the walkway.

"Debra, wait," he called out, grabbing his cane and catching up to her. "What…what's going on? You have nothing to say to that?"

She stopped and turned to look at him, this time with anger written all over her face and her eyes piercing with hatred. "What the fuck am I supposed to say? Oh, I forgive you, Daddy. It's okay, Daddy. I love you too, Daddy? Screw that!"

She took a few more steps away from him but he caught her arm and whirled her around. "Scream at me…take it out on me…but DON'T hold it in."

"Fuck you, Greg!"

House dropped his cane and grabbed both shoulders, shaking her so hard her head tilted back a bit. "DON'T YOU DARE tell me to fuck off! YOU were the one to tell me I should talk to my own father. YOU were the one that said I had to face my fears! And what the hell are you doing now?"

House was shocked at himself for the words that came out of his mouth, but he meant them, every single word.

"Let go of me…you're hurting me!"

"No, I won't! I'm glad I'm hurting you! At least I'd know you still have a heart, Debra!"

She looked at him with squinted eyes, with hatred, anger, hurt, wanting to kick him where she'd kicked her father when she was a child. And she tried. But he was ready for it. With his right hand he pushed her to him, and with his left pushed her away, resulting in her spinning around. He put his arms around her upper arms and pressed down, making her fall to her knees. He kept a tight grip on her and held her there.

"Greg, STOP IT! You're…"

And then he felt it. Her body shook, she rolled forward so that her forehead was almost touching the ground and a loud cry burst out of her mouth. She finally cried; a hard, heart-wrenching sob that drowned out every footstep around them.

He got down on his knee and held her, rocked her, and just let her cry until she had her fill.

A man and a woman walked by and asked if they needed help. He turned them down.

"No, she's just upset she missed ER last night."