CHAPTER 19

I'm so sorry for the delay. Life and writers block has got in the way but I finally managed to write. Thank you again to Jacksloveshilson for helping me out with this. I'm planning on writing an epilogue to this and I have so many different one shots on the go that it's unbelievable.

Please Review!

Enjoy!

7 months on ...

"Dan? You ready to go?" Wilson shouted as he was tying his shoes.

"Uncy! Will you come here?" Dan shouted back. Wilson wondered in. He saw Dan sat on his bed looking at his pants.

"I want to wear these but they won't fit." Wilson smiled sadly at Dan, realising the issue at hand.

"Okay. Can you get them on first and then I'll sort them out?" Dan nodded. He'd had to practice how to put trousers on with the special doctor who helped him with his leg so he had got used to it. He pulled them up as high as he could before Wilson came over.

"Lean on me and pull them up. You're too young to be a builder yet." He stood slowly with the aid of his crutch and leant on his shoulder whilst he pulled up his trousers. The leg on his right leg hung loosely from the stump. It saddened him to see what the cancer had taken away from his Godson. Daniel had taken it in his stride, trying his best in his physio and most importantly inspire his father.

Wilson passed the other crutch to Daniel and tied the end of the trousers. He then went to grab the gym bag with Dans shorts in for later.

"Are we going with crutches or the wheel mobil?" He asked to Dan, fully knowing the answer.

"Crutches. I want Daddy to see me with them!"

"Okay but the wheelchair on the way back buddy." Dan grumbled and huffed but eventually agreed.

He still had a long way to go, including using his prosthetic. He had had his fitting and today was the day he was going to be able to take his first steps. But first they needed to make a detour.

They arrived at the hospital and went up to the third floor. Granted it was slowly. Dan was beginning to tire but didn't give in. He was too stubborn.

Room 204 was silent, apart from the even breathing of the sole occupier of the room. He lay still, right hand laying where a body part should be. It was habit.

Wilson opened the door and Dan crutched in slowly. He shook the mans shoulder gently.

"Mmmm" He grumbled before slowly opening his eyes.

"Your lazy Dad" Danny smiled.

"I have a right to sleep. God knows I deserve it." House tiredly smiled. He put his hand up slowly and ran his hand through Dans newly grown hair. He felt a warmth run through him at the silky smooth hair. Dan had been given the all clear after another set of chemo. He had now been in remission for 4 months.

Dan dumped his crutches at the side of his dads bed as he sat down next to him.

"I'm going to get some coffee. I'll be back in a minute." Wilson excused himself, leaving father and son to it.

"Dad?"

"Yeah?" House sat himself up so he could see Dan more clearly.

"Does it hurt anymore?" Dan looked closely at the stump on his dad leg, cut in the exact identical place.

House sighed heavily, frowning.

"A little I guess. But not as much. Sometimes it feels like my leg is still there but it's not too bad. I bet that sometimes it feels that your leg is still there too?" House asked, trying to make Dan understand.

"It feels weird. I sometimes forget it's not there. It doesn't hurt though. Why does yours still hurt?" Dan frowned.

"Because I was in pain for a very long time Dan. The nerves in my leg, the things that your brain tells when to move or if your leg hurts, were broken and they always hurt. It will take a while for the pain to heal." He finished quietly.

"It will go away Daddy, won't it? You will be able to run and play again."

"I hope so kid." House said distantly, looking to something that was not present in the room. When Dan just stared at him, he brought himself back into the here and now. "I promise though that once we get our new legs, we can run and play as much as you want." House smiled.

Wilson wondered back into the room.

"We need to get you both to physio." Wilson stated

"Well, I would quite happily get up if I wasn't missing a leg." House scoffed.

"You know there's a simple phrase that goes along the lines of 'Wilson can you give me a hand?' "

House glared at Wilson before admitting defeat and ushering him over.

Dan watched as they went through the procedure he had been in only a few months before. Wilson helped as he helped his dad sit up, supporting his weight before transferring himself to the wheelchair. His dad looked so weak slumped in against the back of the chair, the movement making him short of breath. Shorts were covering his stump and they hung loosely over.

"What's up kid, you've got that silly face on?"

"I'm fine" Dan lied trying to smile. House sat up in his chair.

"Oh my dear boy, you haven't mastered the art of deception. You forget that your talking to the master of observation so spit it out."

"It's just, you never need help." Dan mumbled.

House mentally kicked himself for forgetting that Dan was too young to see him vulnerable. He made a mental note next to send him out of the room. He didn't need to witness that.

"It's just because your dad has had less time with the physio than you so he hasn't masters crutches yet. He'll be on his feet soon." Wilson reassured.

Wilson went to grab the wheelchair handled but House pushed him away.

"I've had practice before in a wheelchair before if you don't remember. Dan do you want a ride?" He saw that Dan was tiring.

"Sure!" Dan crutched over slowly before lowering himself onto his dad lap. He handed the crutches over to Wilson who happily obliged.

Dan was still underweight, despite Wilson's insesant need to feed. House still found this worrying at how light he felt.

He pushed off into the hallway, face down. Sympathetic faces stared at the farther son duo as they led they're way too the elevator.

"It's like we're the new arrivals at the freak show." House muttered under his breath. But Dan didn't seem to care and just smiled at the nurses and chatted hapliy with Wilson. It made him think. Why couldn't he just be care free? Why was there so much pain in his heart.? One name answered came straight to the forefront;

John House.

He was scared at first. Fatherhood had never been an option in his youth; the weight of possibility weighed heavy on his shoulders. What if it was ingrained behaviour, learnt from the only father figure he had in his life.

It was one night that changed his belief.

"You know, I don't believe in this anniversary shit but I could of done at least something for you. Taken you out." Greg frowned.

"Guilt doesn't suit you." Jen cuddled up closer, burrowing her head between his chest and arm.

"It goes with my shirt"

"Your not even wearing a shirt!" Greg grinned at her half naked form.

"I blame you entirely for the events of this evening."

"Blame the innocent victim!" House chirped.

"I want children." Jen deadpanned

"Huh?" Greg turned towards her, face contorted.

"Don't play dumb. I put it in simple terms."

"You could of given me warning to at least be dressed and ready to run"

"Point 1, you can't run you limping twerp and point 2 I'm being serious"

Greg scratched his head, speechless.

"But... but."

"But What Gregory? What's your point here?"

He stood and grabbed his T-shirt, pulling it over his head, and stumbled into the kitchen, grabbing some water. Jen followed anxiously. She laid her hand on his shoulder and spoke tenderly.

"Greg ..."

He spun around, slamming his glass on the counter.

"YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO ME! YOU KNOW WHY WE CANT HAVE A CHILD JEN! I WOULD HURT THEM! I WOULD SCREW THEM UNTIL THEY BECAME AS MESSED UP AS I AM." He screamed. Jen stepped forward, unfazed.

"For some one who claims to be a genius, you really are a moron."

"Did you not hear me? I don't want children." Anger still seeping through.

"I heard you alright and your logic makes no sense. You learn from people, you learn what is good and bad. You liked your mother for one reason and dislike your dad for another. You liked your mum because she was caring and hated your father because he was abusive. You learnt that your mother's behaviour was right and your dads was not. Therefore why would you copy your fathers behaviour if you fully well knew it was wrong?"

He stood frozen, brain processing the words he had just heard.

"How do I know how to be a good father when the only father I had was a bastard?" Greg whispered

Jen took hold of his hands.

"Nobody knows how to be a parent until they become one. There's no rules or manuals telling you what to do. It's something you have to work out for yourself."

House sat watching Danny as he took his first steps with his new leg. He ballenced himself on the bars, trying to keep his weight from collapsing.

"Okay Dan, I want you to put your left leg forward and move the right so it's next to it." Sarah, The physio encouraged.

"What about if I fall?"

"It's why I'm right behind you."

Danny nodded and moved his left leg, holding his weight up using his arms.

"Put less weight on your arms and trust your legs to carry you."

House watched on, hoping; hoping that he could do it, that he could put enough trust within himself. He looked at Dan who was frozen in position.

"You've got my brain kiddo, you can do ..."

"Anything Dad, I can do anything."

He slowly lifted the metal leg. It shook with nerves and anticipation. But as it lifted to full height, the leg was still and it went down, straight next to the left. He took his next step, and the next, each leg matching its own movements until it became almost natural; hands only lightly touching the bars.

Dan reached the end and threw himself into the wheelchair, breathing heavily. But a huge grin filled his face.

"Told you you could do it. I don't understand what all the panicking was about." House smirked.

"Shut up Dad. It's your turn soon. Bet you won't do as good as me."

"You're probably right there kid but we will be playing basketball as soon as you know it."