A/N: This chapter is dedicated to Ann Marie, with whom I played Breyers many times in childhood. I have no idea where she is or how she is, haven't seen her since I was about eight. But we had a whole world going on, and she was the only person I ever met in childhood who could master the critically important element of keeping the names and personalities of every model horse straight. I had dozens and she had several herself, though not near my herd, so there were a lot of names. We could spend a whole Saturday morning in the imaginary stable, creating and acting out stories with the animals.
Sorry for the delay. Life is busy.
(H/C)
"He's got a hurt leg," Abby announced.
Rachel gave a sigh bigger than her four years. "Why does another one need to have a hurt leg?"
"So Daddy can fix it," Abby countered as if the answer were obvious.
Her sister considered that, then reluctantly nodded. "Okay, but it's only a little hurt leg. So he can get fixed fast and get back to running."
"Daddy can fix it fast," Abby promised wisely. "He's good."
The two girls were in the living floor with an assortment of Breyer horses and a few stuffed animals in between them. Rachel at this point obligingly moved one of the Breyers to the side, into the designated hospital area where their frequent veterinary cases went, and Abby began to wrap one leg with a little bit of toilet paper from their bandage roll provided for that purpose. She took a small piece of tape to secure her bandage once she was done. Marina, sitting in the armchair at the moment, watched both girls with a smile.
"Now while Rusty's leg is healing, Lightning got out of the fence," Rachel decided. Abby nodded at this plot twist and knocked down one section of their corral. Rachel moved Lightning through the gap, trying her best to give it action by bringing him down on each hoof in turn while she made hoofbeat sounds with her tongue. "So now he's loose. And Goldie goes out to find him." Goldie was Lightning's mother, and Lightning of all of the model horses was the Dennis the menace, most likely to get into adventures, trouble, or both simultaneously. The long-suffering Goldie frequently had to go after him.
"He went up to the mountains," Abby said. She picked up Lightning and moved him onto the couch.
"You have to do the hooves," Rachel protested. Abby shrugged but moved Lightning back down to the floor, then repeated the journey with sound effects.
"Now Lightning's up in the mountains having fun," Abby continued. "But here comes a big bear." Rachel picked up the stuffed Mr. Bear, the teddy House had given her years earlier as a get-well present after she overcame hantavirus. Rachel started to move the bear closer in stalking mode, and Abby laughed. Both girls knew what was coming; Mr. Bear frequently got after the Breyers, but in all the variety of episodes, while he looked ferocious, he simply wanted to be friends and didn't quite know how. The horses would eventually figure this out once they got over being scared. Abby now gave an imitation frightened whinny and cantered Lightning out of the way. Mr. Bear pursued him, and with the other hand, Rachel brought Goldie at a gallop up the mountain trail from the floor to the couch.
At that moment, the door rattled. Marina looked up, surprised, and in the next moment both girls bounded off the floor, leaving Lightning to the misunderstood advances of Mr. Bear and Goldie only halfway to the rescue. "Daddy!" the girls called in unison.
Rachel ran over to him. "You need to fix Rusty, Daddy, so he can play again."
Abby, even though a year younger, was often a little faster on practical points. She looked at the clock. "You came early. Good!"
"Not exactly," House said. Marina, better than the girls at reading expression, already realized that this early homecoming wasn't just inspired by solving his current case.
Rachel tugged at him. "Fix Rusty, Daddy."
"In a - oh, all right." House knew he was being a coward for putting off the news even 30 more seconds, but he suddenly wanted to seize the opportunity to make his daughter happy. She would have enough to worry about shortly. House retrieved Rusty from the hospital area and waved his hand over the TP-bandaged leg, speaking in dramatic stage tones. "Abracadabra, medicalwondra, all is well!"
Rachel took the horse back, pleased, and set him down on the carpet. She started to tear off the bandage. Abby had smiled at her father's words, but she also heard the sigh that followed them and she didn't switch attention back to the game. "Is is hell day, Daddy?"
House sighed again. "Kind of. Come here, girls. I need to talk to you." Rachel, struck by the seriousness of his tone, left Rusty only half unbandaged and followed him to the other chair. House sat down, and both of his daughters climbed up to join him. House looked over at Marina, who was on the edge of her seat, at least as tense as they were by now. "Mama hurt herself this morning," he said. "She's okay. I mean, she's going to be okay."
"Bad hurt?" Abby asked. She looked around, as if she could have missed her mother's entrance. "Where is she?"
"She's back at the hospital. She's going to be fine. She's going to hurt for a while, and then she'll get over it. After it's healed up, she won't know anything happened." House neatly jumped over the chances for eventual aches and pains down the road that were possible with aging after any injury. This really was an easy fracture to handle, and hopefully Cuddy's possible effects in a few decades would be mild when she got older.
When she got older. House hardly ever thought about that. About him getting older, yes, frequently, but the idea of her aging somehow was skipped over in his usual mental pictures of the future. He took a firm grip on that sudden revelation and forced himself back to the present, leaving the question of possible arthritis in some future decade.
"She's going to be okay," he repeated. The girls were snuggling up more closely to him, but they seemed to believe him, at least.
"Where is she hurt?" Abby asked.
"Her leg. Her ankle. She fell down some steps in the hospital lobby."
"But you can fix it," Rachel stated. "Like Rusty."
House shook his head. "This isn't - Rachel, there are different kinds of doctors. She needs an ankle doctor. I'm not one. But the ankle doctor can fix it. He'll fix it tomorrow morning, and she'll have a big hard bandage on it for a while and have to use crutches. But then it will heal up. In several weeks, she'll be just fine."
Abby was tracking this. "Not like hell leg?" she asked, reaching over to touch his bad thigh ever so gently.
"No. Nothing like hell leg. This is an injury that will heal. Like when you fall and scrape yourself. Well, a little worse than that. Do you remember the - back when Grandpa Thomas and I got hurt a year ago?" Both girls nodded. "We hurt for a while. We had to move carefully for a little bit. But we're just fine now. As fine as we used to be," he countered, putting a hand on his leg himself. "It's like that. Actually, it's not even that bad. This is an easier hurt to fix than that was. It will just take a little time." He paused, looking at their expressions. They were a little scared, definitely worried, but they were listening to him. "Would you like to talk to her?"
"Can we see her?" Rachel asked.
"Yes. That's why I came home, so I could get you and take you down to the hospital to see her. You'll see. She's hurt, but she's going to be okay. But we could call her now first if you want." They both nodded, and House pulled out his cell phone, put it on speaker, and dialed.
Cuddy answered on the first ring. "Hi, Greg."
"It's all three of us. Plus Marina. I've got the phone on speaker, Lisa."
"Hello, girls," she said. "Did you hear that I got hurt?"
"But it will get better?" Rachel asked.
"Yes, Rachel. I'll get better. I'm going to be limping for a while, that's all."
"Does it bad hurt?" Abby asked.
"No, it's -" Cuddy obviously caught herself there and applied a few mental Patterson sessions. "It does hurt some right now, girls. But it will get to feeling better soon. In a few days, Daddy says it will feel a lot better."
"Good," Abby said. "Can we come?"
"Yes. Come on, girls, and you can see for yourselves. I'm going to be fine."
"We'll be there in about half an hour," House said. "See you then."
"See you then. I love you. All of you."
"Love you, too," House and the girls said in near unison. House disconnected the call and then looked at his daughters, considering getting up. Before he could ask, they heard the thought and scrambled down, freeing him up for movement. "Okay, girls, let's get your coats. It's cold out there."
Marina had been listening to all of this, though had barely said a word. Now she jumped up and retrieved the coats. As they tucked the girls into them, she said softly to House, "So she didn't fall on the ice?"
He shook his head. "On the stairs. She was going too fast."
Marina nodded. "She does. But that won't be easy for her."
"No, it won't," he agreed. He could already tell that Cuddy was in full self-reproach for that accident. The fact that she was entirely correct - it had been a careless mistake - would only make it worse.
"Let's go," Rachel said, but the girls stuck close, not scampering on to the door as usual.
"Right." House turned to Marina. "You can go home for tonight. The old man is going to bring them back later. But we'll need you tomorrow. She has surgery in the morning." Marina nodded.
At his slow, limping pace, House and his daughters headed for the door.
