Chapter 26

House spends Thanksgiving with them and Christmas, and it is the fist time in years he not only has a place to go to for the holidays, but one he really wants to be at. He doubted he would ever enjoy this time of the year again, but the smell of cinnamon and cookies, the soft glow created by lit candles and the fireplace, and the kid's gleeful faces make him inexplicably happy. On Christmas Eve, he heads out with Rachel and John to buy a tree, and he decorates it with them while Cuddy is wrapping presents in her bedroom.

Occasionally, he wonders about how long his happiness is going to last. A small part of him is constantly on the lookout for a threat—a misunderstanding, a fight, some outside event—which might topple their peaceful, yet fragile arrangement.

Although House is aware that what Wilson said after Amber's death is not true—he is capable of experiencing emotions besides misery—his baseline is set right around that feeling, and he regularly manipulates his life such that he eventually ends back there. He is worried he will screw up; that he might do or say something so insensitive Cuddy will cut the line with him.

He invests a lot of thought into finding and defining his concept of a respectable dad, and works hard at putting it into practice.

He also makes an effort to be supportive of Cuddy, and goes so far as to ring her up on her birthday in February. "I was gonna send flowers, but they probably wouldn't have made it in this weather," he jokes. He knows she expected nothing. She seems surprised he even called.

"I'll imagine them," she says gently.

"I'll imagine having some of that cake. Rache sent me a pic."

"About that…" Cuddy starts hesitantly. "There's a job opening at Princeton General."

He frowns. "You lost me. You want me to apply for a better paid job so I can afford my own cake?"

"No. I know you can't apply anywhere because of your lack of a license." She pauses. "I've been thinking, for a while now, about moving back."

House draws in a breath and holds it. He is completely perplexed by her proposition.

"You're right, that was a clumsy transition," she continues, noticing that she has caught him off-guard. "What I meant was: If we lived closer, you would be able to drop by and have some cake."

He swallows hard, concern rising in him.

The frequent long drives have been putting a strain on him. When the traffic was bad on Fridays, it could take him up to six hours to reach them. So, of course the idea has crossed his mind as well, but rather in the other direction: Him finding a place and a job near New Haven. With his criminal record and missing license, though, no hospital would take him. He had doubted she would be willing to change their living situation.

"House?" she interrupts his thoughts. He has been quiet for a while.

Unsure about what to say, he sets his focus on the kids. "I'm sure Rache and John would be upset. You wanna drag them out of the house they grew up in? Force them away from their friends? Rache has her team... They're attached up there."

"I know that," she states. "I actually asked them about it a couple of weeks ago already."

House is surprised by her determination. "And?" he asks, both curious and anxious.

"John was really mature about it, weighing the pros and cons. He already has some friends in Princeton, and I think I could get him back into the same school he attended last year. Rachel started to cry. When I told her this wasn't going to happen if she wasn't okay with it, she calmed down and let it sink in for a while. Today she said she'd be very sad, but that she makes friends easily and that she thinks she'd be fine."

He has doubts, but is afraid to voice them. He scratches his head absentmindedly. "What's your motive?" he queries instead. "Besides being closer to your sister. You think moving on will be easier if you take it literally?"

He hears her sigh. He can practically see her becoming frustrated with him: She is probably pinching her nose right this second. "That's certainly part of it. Everything here reminds me of Michael. People still constantly ask me about him and about how I'm holding up. I'm tired of being the sad tragedy."

"What's the other part?"

"House," she growls impatiently. "Stop deflecting and tell me what you think?!"

He stands up and starts pacing around the room, trying to gather his thoughts. "It's definitely a big step," he states.

"You think it's a bad idea." Her voice sounds low and raspy.

"I'm saying why change a running system?" he probes carefully. "The kid's are happy. We're good. You are… I don't know... Less of a nut job than you could be."

There is a pause on the other end of the line. "What about you?"

"I'm fine."

"You don't want to see the kids more often?" She sounds tired and slightly saddened.

He sits back down on the couch, tapping his cane on the carpet. "See, I'm already disappointing you," he says quietly, rubbing his temples. Her expectations of him have always been too high.

She is interpreting his hesitation as rejection, which is far from the truth. House does want them closer. But the thought scares the hell out of him. Having them near would give him many more opportunities to screw up.

For a while, they just listen to each other's breath.

"Okay, let's take a step back for a sec," Cuddy suggests. "Can we maybe try the Helen thing? Share our fears?"

He looks around the room. "Okay." He rubs his leg, contemplating his next words. "I suck with expectations. You know that. Throw me an expectation, and I'll run the other way. Two hundred miles an hour."

"You can't even run two miles an hour," she states dryly.

"Sweet." He smirks, but quickly turns serious again. "This has been going well because you hardly have any. I show up at the weekend or I don't. It's my call; no hard feelings." Being this open with her is difficult for him. "If you lived here, you and the kids would want me to show up at things—school plays, concerts, soccer games, birthdays—and… I'll fail them. And you."

She is quiet for a beat, giving him the opportunity to say more. He has nothing to add, though, so she takes her turn. "All right, let me rephrase…" She makes an effort to remember what they learned in their therapy session and put it into practice. "You're scared you won't live up to expectations. So the underlying motive is…" She thinks for a moment. "I don't know. You want to meet their needs?! You want to maintain the positive connection you have with them?!"

"Sounds about right." He has noticed that she excluded herself from his fears, but he refrains from calling her on it. "Your turn."

"Okay." She takes some time formulating her words. "I guess my fear is, or was, that you didn't want to be involved. It's why I was getting impatient before. I'm worried you might turn away from them again at some point. That they'll get hurt." Her voice is soft and vulnerable.

Again, she left herself out of the picture. He wonders what it means, but is too afraid to pressure her. "So, where does that leave us?" he asks instead.

"I don't know," she mumbles. "I mean, if you're scared it might all get too overwhelming, maybe we could agree on a specific schedule. We basically have one now, too, right? You come every second or third weekend, that's it. We can maintain similar restrictions even if we lived closer. Like, you see them one day every second weekend and one evening during the week. Or whatever you think you can handle. We would convey this schedule to the kids and stick to it. Avoid all overt and covert expectations."

Her suggestion eases him up a bit. "Just like visiting hours in jail," he jests.

She hums, sounding more cheerful as well. "Think about it, okay? Nothing's settled, yet. I have to get the job first, then find a house and a school for Rachel…"

"Wear a low-cut top and a push-up for the interview. They'll definitely take you." He sits back on the couch, settling more comfortably into the cushions. "I'll text Sam to keep an eye out for suitable properties."

"Thank you." He hears the smile in her voice. "I'll talk to you later. Gotta get back to my cake."

"Happy birthday, Cuddy," he mumbles, before he hangs up.

Author Notes:

This was another one of those "transitional chapters", and it marks the end of Part III. (Another phone call, hehe. Unlike all the other parts, the next part is not going to start with one.)

This is not going to be a never-ending story—I've actually known for months how it will end—and Part IV will be the last part. So, get ready for the grand finale ;-)

BTW, Princeton General does not exist IRL, but it is mentioned several times in the series, and I decided to stick with their universe.