To all those asking/wondering about the medical information in Part 47, I spent the last week digging around for possible solutions to House's situation. The treatment option he's elected is definitely a real one and I've given a broad-stroke overview of it, as well as the other options considered. This particular one is showing great promise as a non-invasive form of treatment for cancers, tumors, and cysts.


Part 48

Outside a judge's chambers in Princeton Borough Court House, Cuddy paced as she waited to hear about House's petition for travel to Maryland.

House and Stacy had been in there for about twenty minutes. They'd been joined about ten minutes ago by a man in a suit and one in a sheriff's uniform, but still there was no word.

The suspense was nerve-wracking. Cuddy had never been good at waiting, and neither was House. She just prayed he kept his tongue in check. She knew he'd changed, but she wasn't sure he'd changed that much. She just hoped … a lot of things.

House's desired course of treatment was a godsend, even if he was an atheist. It offered him the best chance of complete eradication of the tumor without loss of precious muscle mass or limb.

In the drive to the court house, he'd talked to her more about it. He'd described that recent case studies had shown smaller tumors had been completely ablated despite being near and around major blood vessels. All aberrant cells had literally been destroyed under the heat generated by the targeted ultrasound energy, with only a one-centimeter margin required — a little over a quarter of an inch. No incisions.

Cuddy had been so relieved to know that they wouldn't have to cut into him to try it. She was also relieved that the procedure could be done at her hospital. So far, her employer had been beyond gracious in giving her the last several days to care for House here, but she eventually had to go back. Her home was there, her daughter had school there.

Glancing at Rachel, Cuddy marveled not for the first time at how kids could be oblivious to the world of grownups. She was sitting on one of the wooden benches in the hall, her little feet swinging as she looked through a book. She had House's tennis ball beside her and the picture she presented made Cuddy smile.

Rachel was a miracle. She shouldn't have survived her birth, but there she was, sitting there as if nothing hung in the balance, so sure of everything despite not being aware of any of it.

A sound from the end of the hall drew Cuddy's gaze and she saw the big, wooden door to the judge's chambers open. The suited man and sheriff exited first and moved quietly past her without a word. House and Stacy followed.

House glanced at Cuddy and his expression gave her hope. But then Stacy pulled House to the side and started talk to him. She was very animated, her motions clipped in a way that Cuddy recognized. She did that herself when dealing with Rachel or students or, in the past, had done it with employees when she was trying to drive a point home.

House nodded repeatedly then finally said something to Stacy. Whatever it was, it seemed to satisfy her because they both turned and headed toward Cuddy and Rachel.

"Well?" Cuddy asked as they neared, her hands raising then dropping with the question.

"All systems go," House replied and Cuddy sighed in relief.

"Thank God."

"Thank Stacy," House replied.

"What he should do is grovel in gratitude to you," Stacy countered when she looked at Cuddy. "None of this works without you. The same conditions apply as here. He is either at the hospital, your home or within 100 yards of you at all times, no exceptions. A parole officer will check in at random to see if he's following the conditions."

Stacy fixed House with a stern stare then. "And you will follow them or I, swear to God, Greg, I will hunt you down myself. I promise you, you'll wish I'd never gotten you out."

"Yeah, I got that down there," House said, and Cuddy could see that he had. His expression was sober.

"Is House coming home with us?"

The delightfully innocent question came from behind Cuddy. Everyone looked to Rachel who was now standing by the bench, her book in one hand, the tennis ball in the other.

Cuddy smiled at her daughter. "Yes, sweetheart. For a while," she said, happy that he was and yet not wanting to set expectations of a long-term situation with the rest of his case unresolved.

Rachel beamed and walked up to House. She held out the ball to him and he took it. She then took hold of his other hand and looked up at him, as if waiting to go.

House's expression was awkward to say the least. He was so at ease playing with Rachel, but when she openly engaged him as an adult, he never knew quite how to respond. Cuddy smiled at him.

"You driving down tonight?" Stacy asked, attracting Cuddy's attention.

Cuddy shook her head. "Too late in the day. We'll stay here tonight and head out tomorrow morning."

Stacy nodded. "Bet you'll be glad to get home."

"Yes," Cuddy replied but it wasn't until later that night in her hotel room, that she realized it was the first time since moving to Baltimore that she felt like she was actually going home.

That thought made her smile and the expression remained as she whispered to the man spooned at her back.

"Good night, House."