AUTHOR'S NOTES: As of this writing, Hugh Laurie is forty-five years old. I don't think an age has been specified on the show, so I used Hugh's age as House's age. I'm also not sure what muscle is dead, but I picked quadriceps by process of elimination: calf muscle would equal inability to move foot, and hamstring even more difficulty walking. How's that for a little bit of medical reasoning?

THE APPLE AND THE TREE – CHAPTER ONE

Dr. James Wilson poked his head around the frosted glass door that read, LISA CUDDY, M.D. on the front. "You asked to see me?"

The brunette hospital administrator glanced up from whatever she was writing. "Ah, Dr. Wilson, yes."

Wilson stepped inside. "What's going on?"

Cuddy folded her hands. "I'm sure this is a stupid question, but…to your knowledge, does Dr. House have any children?"

Wilson's eyes widened. "Why?"

"A Nicole House checked in this morning with severe headaches," Cuddy said.

Alarm bells were going off in Wilson's head. "Nicole House?"

Cuddy's jaw dropped. "She's his, isn't she?"

"Wait," Wilson said. Maybe it was a coincidence. "How old is she?"

"She's twenty-two," Cuddy said, "and a student at Princeton University."

Wilson nodded. "That's her.

"House has a daughter?" Cuddy gasped.

"Yeah," Wilson said.

"Why didn't I know about her beforehand?" Cuddy asked

"They're not on good terms," Wilson sighed, wondering how he'd tell House about this.

"Who's not on good terms?"

Wilson turned around and groaned inwardly. There, standing in the doorway and leaning on his ever-present cane, was the scruffy, cantankerous Dr. Gregory House.

When neither doctor responded, House said, "What? Do I have a growth?"

Wilson cleared his throat. "Ah, House? Could we…?"

"What?" House asked.

"Just…" Wilson took his friend by the sleeve. "Come on."

"What?" House repeated, starting to sound annoyed.

Wilson found his office and pulled House inside. "Nicole's here," he said simply.

House stared blankly. "Nicole…?"

"Nicole House?" Wilson said. "Nicole your daughter? Nicole that tuition bill you get every month?"

"I know that," House said irritably. "Why is she here?"

"She's having severe headaches," Wilson explained quickly.

"Where?"

Wilson regarded the other doctor. "I just told you that your daughter, the one you haven't seen since she left for school, is here, and you're trying to give her a diagnosis."

"That's what doctors do, isn't it?"

Frustrated, Wilson sighed. "Greg! Nicole is here."

"We've covered that," House said.

"Don't you want to see her?" Wilson asked.

"Not particularly," House sat down at his desk. "And I'm sure she's not dying to see me, either."

Wilson shook his head. "You're the boss," was all he could think to say. "But I think you're being an idiot."

"When I want your opinion," House said sarcastically, "I'll beat it out of you."

"Chase?" Dr. Eric Foreman found his colleague sitting at a table in the Diagnostic Medicine lounge. "You got a second?"

"Sure." Chase put his pen aside. "What's going on?" He unscrewed the bottle of water sitting next to him.

"Does House have any kids?"

Chase nearly spit his water across the table. When he had recovered, he managed, "House? Kids?"

"OK, that's what I thought," Foreman sat down across the table.

Chase wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his lab coat. "Well, it's not impossible, I suppose, but…" the blond Australian looked up. "Why?"

"Someone named Nicole House was admitted this morning," Foreman said.

"What's going on?" Dr. Allison Cameron walked into the room.

"You know if House has children?" Chase asked.

Cameron's dark eyes widened. "I…seriously doubt it. How'd this subject come up?"

"There was a Nicole House admitted today," Chase explained.

"That doesn't automatically make her his daughter." Cameron moved to the coffee maker.

"Yes, it does."

All three doctors turned around and found Wilson standing in the doorway. "It does?" Cameron asked.

The oncologist nodded.

"House has kids?" Chase's eyes were wide.

"Kid." Wilson held up his left index finger. "Singular."

"He was married?" Cameron asked, remembering that he'd once told her he'd lived with someone.

Wilson nodded.

"What happened?" Foreman asked quietly.

"She died," Wilson answered. "Six years ago. She was giving someone a jumpstart and connected the cables badly. The battery exploded."

There was an uncomfortable silence while the doctors contemplated what they'd just learned about their boss. "Does this mean we can't handle Nicole's case?" Cameron asked.

"That's up to Cuddy," Wilson told her.

"I can't believe you never told me you had a daughter."

House looked at Cuddy quizzically. "Why does this surprise you? People have children; they procreate. It's how things work."

"I didn't think it was possible," Cuddy said.

House feigned offense. "You thought I was incapable?"

Cuddy was sure she blushed all the way from her toes to the roots of her hair. "No! Just that you're, well…you!"

"What does my being 'me' have to do with the natural course of things?" House queried.

Cuddy sighed heavily. Because you're a nasty, mean, heartless SOB who's never cared about anyone else in your life, she wanted to say. No, that would be unprofessional. "I didn't think anyone would take enough pity on you to actually be your wife."

"What's wrong with her?" House asked.

"Your daughter or the woman you married?" Cuddy couldn't resist.

House gave her a stare.

"She woke up this morning with severe pain in the back of her head," Cuddy said, wondering if the flash of concern in her employee's eyes was real or imagined. "Stroke and aneurysm have been ruled out."

"Tumor?"

"Foreman's got her in an MRI now," Cuddy said.

House's eyes narrowed. "Wait a minute…you gave this to my team without letting me know?"

"You can't handle this case," Cuddy told him. "Nicole is a member of your family."

"It's my team," House said. "You can't give them an assignment without my knowledge!"

"Well, now you know," Cuddy retorted. "Nobody else can figure out what's going on; Nicole goes to DM. That's how it works. And since you're not working on Nicole," she stood up to leave. "You can catch up on some clinic hours."

"How you doing in there, Nicole?" Foreman asked as he conducted the MRI.

"Fine," Nicole said, but she sounded nervous.

"Scared?" Foreman asked.

"I don't like small spaces."

Foreman chuckled. "Not many people do. Don't worry; not much longer."

There was no response. "Still with us, Nicole?" It might seem overprotective, but he'd seen too many seizures, blackouts, and other bizarre happenings in the MRI tube to be totally at ease.

"It smells funny in here," Nicole announced.

Foreman looked up at Cameron. "When are we going to get it to stop smelling? That guy ralphed in there back over Christmas."

Cameron shrugged and hit the intercom button. "Don't worry, Nicole. It's normal."

"All set," Foreman said.

Nicole sat up. "When do I hear the results?"

"Very soon," Cameron told her. "Within an hour."

Back in his office, House sat at his desk with his head resting on his forearms. I Is this some kind of punishment for skipping clinic duty/I He wondered to whoever might be listening.

Nicole was here. The Nicole he hadn't spoken to in four years. She was here.

Most people didn't know House had been married. In fact, excepting Wilson, House was pretty sure it was a secret from everyone at the hospital until today. Even those who heard it probably wouldn't believe it. After all, who'd want to marry a nasty, cynical, sarcastic SOB like him?

Darlene Jackson did.

Darlene had been the daughter of his mother's best friend. They'd grown up together. He'd never really considered her a good friend-he tried to shut her out same as he did everyone else. But Darlene was different. She kept coming back for more. It had annoyed him to no end. "What do I have to do to piss you off?" He'd asked her once when they were both teenagers.

Darlene had just smiled and said, "Nothing. I'm impossible to piss off."

There was something incredibly alluring about that. Darlene didn't run away at the first wisecrack. She almost seemed to enjoy it. He'd never admit it to himself or anyone else, but when he was seventeen Gregory House fell in love with a girl.

Greg sat at the piano in his basement, plunking away at "Chariots of Fire." He finished the last measure and ended with a flourish.

The sound of applause made him jump right off the piano bench. Standing in the doorway was Darlene.

"Darlene!" Greg yelped. "I didn't know I had an audience." He hadn't even known Darlene was at his house, though it shouldn't surprise him. Her mother had a nasty habit of dropping in with little or no notice.

"I didn't know you played," Darlene told him.

"Well, now you know," Greg responded tersely, turning back to the music. He'd messed up the rhythm in the third system somewhere…

Darlene walked towards the piano. "How is it that we've known each other all these years and I never knew this about you?"

This was getting a little too close for comfort. "I keep it a secret."

"You shouldn't."

Greg looked at her through his eyebrows, the look his mother referred to as "The Hairy Eyeball." "And pray tell why not?"

"Because," Darlene shrugged uncomfortably. "You play beautifully. You shouldn't hide it."

"Oh," was all Greg could think to say.

Darlene leaned on the piano. "Can you play anything else?"

Greg did not want to do this right now. Or ever. He hated playing in front of people.

"Come on," Darlene prodded. "You must be able to play something besides 'Chariots of Fire.'"

Well, she had a point. Greg picked up another book and opened to the first song. He began to play.

"'Love Story'?" Darlene asked.

Greg stopped. That was a bad choice. "You prefer something else?" He started to play "The Lady is a Tramp."

Darlene gaped at him indignantly. "'The Lady is a Tramp'! Gregory House!"

Greg snickered. "OK then, something more generic perhaps." He started to play "Splish Splash."

"Splish splash I was takin' a bath/Long about a Saturday night…" Darlene began to sing.

Greg continued to play away as Darlene kept singing. She had a pretty voice, he noticed.

"Movin' with the groovin' splish splash yeah!" Darlene finished with a big smile.

"OK now," Greg said. "I've known you for as long as you've known me, and yet I never knew you could sing."

Darlene blushed. "I can't really," she said, looking at the floor. "I just like that song."

"I've heard far worse," Greg told her.

"Damning with faint praise," Darlene mumbled.

For some odd reason, the idea that he might have offended Darlene bothered Greg. "No, that's not it," he tried to cover, "Just…" Dang, he was bad at this. "You've been to the Gong

Show at school. Kids who have way worse voices than you have performed there."

"So have kids who can't play as well as you," Darlene said softly.

Greg shrugged it off.

"I'll make you a deal," Darlene said. "If you'll play at the Gong Show in May, I'll sing."

Greg looked up with every intention of saying "Not on your life." But when he saw her, he reconsidered. Before he knew it, an "OK," made its way past his lips. /I

And it all snowballed from there. He'd accompanied Darlene while she sang "Beauty and the Beast." They didn't get gonged. Before he knew it, House was head over heels in love with Darlene. She was the perfect complement to him-as kind and gentle as he was mean and rough. She had found her way under his cold exterior and melted his icy heart. He loved her like mad. Darlene put up with his wisecracks, his sarcasm, and his cynicism with a smiles, nods, and "I love you, Greg"s.

He'd even found the guts to propose to her in front of the family. He hadn't been sure she'd say yes-to date Gregory House was one thing, to commit to spending the days of your life with him was another entirely. To his great relief, she'd said yes, and amidst choruses of "we never thought this would happen" from both sides, they got married when they were still in college. He was planning on spending the next eight years or so in medical school, and waiting that long to get married just seemed like it would be asking for trouble. He'd made her promise that there would be no kids; Darlene hadn't softened him thatmuch. She agreed, but no amount of agreement or protective measures could stop the natural progression of things.

I "Darlene, we discussed this," Greg told his wife impatiently.

Darlene looked like she was just waiting for him to blow up at her (which she probably was). "Greg, what do you want me to say?"

"That this is all a dream," Greg told her.

"Honey, I know you didn't want kids," Darlene said timidly. "But…" she shrugged. "It's going to happen."

It doesn't have to, Greg thought, but knew better than to voice it. Darlene wouldn't even consider an abortion.

"Why are you looking at me like this is my fault?" Darlene asked. "At least half the blame goes to you."

Well, that was undeniable. "I thought we used protection."

"It doesn't always work," Darlene answered. "Good heavens, Greg, you're a med student, you should know that."

I do now, Greg thought.

"Greg, you're going to be a daddy," Darlene said quietly. "Aren't you excited about that? Even just a little bit?"

To say "no" would break Darlene's heart. To say "yes" would be a lie. And she would know it. So Greg said nothing.

Darlene's eyes filled. "You're not, are you?"

Greg didn't answer.

Darlene shook her head. "I knew you were heartless when I married you," she said. "But I didn't think it would extend to your own offspring."

Looking back on it, House realized he'd been really insensitive when Darlene was pregnant. Of course, how was that different from when she was not pregnant? He didn't understand why she was moody, why she didn't feel good, why she wasn't herself.

"I don't do kids," he'd told his mother irritably.

"Greg," Mom had said patiently. "I know you don't like other people's children, but it's different when it's yours. Trust me."

She'd been right. House fell in love with Nicole from the moment the nurse put her in his arms.

"Would you like to hold her?" The overly-perky maternity nurse asked, holding out a bundle of pink receiving blanket.

"So…it's a girl," Greg said, regarding the baby in front of him as if it were a time bomb about to explode.

The nurse nodded. "Here." She placed the baby into his arms.

Greg froze momentarily. He'd never held a baby before. In fact, excepting his parents, his sister, and Darlene, Greg didn't think he'd held anyone before. But as he looked down at the little baby he held, all animosity he'd held towards her arrival drained away. "Hello there, Nicole Katherine," he murmured.

Nicole stretched her tiny arm out of the receiving blanket and started to cry.

"Aw, look, she's cranky already," Joanne said from behind him. "Just like Daddy."

Seeing as his arms were occupied, Greg settled for kicking his sister in the ankle.

She's beautiful, Greg thought as Nicole settled down.

"Getting soft on us, Greg?" Joanne asked teasingly.

Greg glared at her. "You can be really annoying, you know that?"

Joanne just shrugged. "I learned from the master." She ignored his scowl and looked back at Nicole.

"I guess we can just hope she ends up like Darlene," Greg said.

"Oh, I don't know," Joanne said as Nicole opened her eyes a bit. "Those are your blue eyes."

He'd been happy for eighteen wonderful years with Darlene and Nicole. But then one day, it all went south.

House's pager went off. Frowning, he unclipped it from his belt. Who'd be paging him at one in the afternoon?

Come to ER. 911 – JW

A jolt of fear shot down House's spine. This had to be a problem with either Darlene or Nicole, and Nicole was in Baltimore at a gymnastics meet. Concluding that it had to be Darlene, House switched directions and headed for the emergency room. What had happened? Maybe it was fairly minor, he told himself. But then why would Wilson put "911" on the page?

When he got to the ER, House searched frantically for Wilson.

"Greg!" The other doctor waved him over.

"What is it?" House was aware of the panic creeping into his voice. Wilson looked like he had bad news.

"Darlene was just rushed here," Wilson explained quietly.

"Why?"

"Battery acid burns."

That was not the diagnosis House had expected. "What? How?"

"We don't know how it happened," Wilson told him. "The most plausible explanation is that she was jumpstarting a car and connected the cables badly."

"The battery blew up," House said absently, fear clenching his gut. "How bad…?"

Wilson paused a second before answering, "Bad. Looks like the battery blew up right in her face. Her head, shoulders, most of her upper body…"

House just shook his head, signaling his friend to stop.

"I'm sorry, Greg," Wilson said in a whisper.

House closed his eyes against the memory. If only Darlene had gotten out of the way. Instead, she'd been burned beyond all hope of recovery. She'd lived like that for a week until infection ravaged her system and she died.

Nothing had gone right for House after that. His relationship with Nicole had gone sour. She'd inherited his ability to lock all her feelings inside-not one of her (or his) best traits. Neither had been willing to discuss things. If she'd wanted to, would I have been willing? House wondered to himself. No, probably not.

Then his leg had started bothering him. Nothing major, he thought. Stress reaction. Give it a few weeks and it'll leave on its own.

It hadn't. In fact, it got worse. Finally, he decided that he should see a doctor. Of course, he never got to keep that appointment.

"Nicole, I'm sorry I won't be able to make it."

"Right. Like you always are."

"You need to understand-"

"No!" Nicole cut him off. "You need to understand! You haven't come to a meet since I was thirteen, Dad!"

"I'm busy," House told his daughter curtly. His leg was hurting. A lot.

"Kelly's dad is a doctor," Nicole pointed out. "He makes it to all our meets."

"I am not having this discussion," House grumbled. His leg hurt and he was tired.

"You're never having any discussion!" Nicole shouted.

House wondered, not for the first time, why Nicole couldn't have been more like her mother. "Nic-" Pain exploded in House's leg. He gasped.

"Dad?" The venom was gone from Nicole's voice. "What's wrong?"

House couldn't speak. He clutched at the kitchen counter in a valiant effort to remain upright.

"Dad?" Nicole's voice was moving towards scared now.

House sank to his knees, gritting his teeth against the pain.

"Daddy?" He felt Nicole's hands on his shoulders. "Oh my gosh…I-I'm gonna call 911."

That had been the final straw. His relationship with Nicole, shaken after Darlene's untimely passing, completely shattered. His fault, probably, though he'd never fully admit it even to himself.

Now he just had to figure out some way to not see her for as long as she was going to stay here.