Disclaimer: House isn't mine. Please don't sue.

Author's Note: To those that have reviewed, thank you so much! And to those that haven't…please do! Anyways, on with the story. I'm going to try to cram the entire duration of the pregnancy into this chapter, because I have the plot all mapped out in my head, but the real story has not even begun here so I've got to get things moving along. I expect to have the plot up and running by the end of Chapter 6 so hang in there!

Seven months had gone by in a blur of morning sickness (at least five times a week, usually starting rather early, much to the disdain House, who was not a morning person), odd cravings (pasta with peanut-butter), and swollen ankles.

House and Cameron had argued rather heatedly over who would be their obstetrician. House wanted someone he knew and trusted and that was preferably a woman. Considering the people House trusted consisted only of his parents, Wilson, Cuddy (sometimes) Foreman, (sometimes) Chase (rarely), Cameron, and himself, this narrowed things down quite a bit. Cuddy, Wilson, Foreman, and Chase were all eliminated because Cameron insisted that she would never be able to work with them again and while Cameron really liked House's parents, a medical degree was an unofficial requirement. Cameron would obviously be occupied, which left House. House was fine with this idea, but Cameron would hear nothing of it, because she wanted him to be by her head. Cameron actually wanted to have the baby at another hospital so they wouldn't be fending off their own medical team and various other doctors and nurses who the couple (meaning Cameron) had become friendly with.

House was not happy with this idea, but eventually Cameron had won out, compromising that if she went into labor at PPTH, she would consider having the baby there.

And so it was.

Not.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Another month passed, and House and Cameron were trying to decide whether to find out the baby's gender. They had many conversations regarding the topic and they all went somewhat like this, and the one today was no exception. House started.

"Dr. Bretter called."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. He wanted to know if we were curious about the sex of the baby,"

"Again?"

"Well, I called him."

"That's more like it."

"I wanted to know if it would be ethical to find out without telling you I knew so I could concentrate on only pushing gender-appropriate names on you."

At this point, Cameron usually spit out her (decaf) coffee all over House and today was no different. "Ethical? You wanted to know if something was ethical?"

"Don't mock me."

"I didn't know you cared if something was ethical."

Usually, House would have said something sarcastic and hurtful, but instead he looked down sheepishly.

"It's you. I care."

Cameron nearly spit out her coffee again but managed to swallow. She basically choked it down but then looked up and smiled shyly at House.

"Ok."

"Ok what?"

"Call him back. Find out."

"No, it's fine. You don't want to know, I'll wait it out with you."

"Nope, I changed my mind. I want to know."

"No, you don't. You're lying."

"Nuh-uh."

"Yuh-huh."

"Greg?"

"Yeah?"

"I wanted to know the whole time."

"I know. You're very bad at lying."

"I wasn't lying!"

"You just said you wanted to know the whole time but for the past seven months you've been telling me you don't want to know."

"That was because I thought you didn't want to know but you just told me you did because you knew I wanted to know."

House raised his eyebrows at her.

"Well, it sounded a lot better in my head."

"It always does."

"So you want to call and find out now?"

"Nope."

Cameron's jaw dropped. "Are you joking me? Because this is not funny."

"Well, when I called again, he was so annoyed he told me the sex and to stop calling unless it's an emergency."

Cameron gaped at him before doing a very good swivel for an eight month pregnant woman, walked out, and slammed the bedroom door.

House walked around the apartment for a few minutes, waiting for Cameron to come out. Their door had a lock but Cameron wasn't using it. After ten minutes, House wondered if she had just forgotten to lock it in her anger, or if it meant she wanted him to go in.

House mentally crossed his fingers, guessed it was the latter and walked in to find a tear-streaked Cameron sitting on the edge of the bed. She looked up at him as he stood in the doorway, unsure of what to do next.

"What is it? Boy or girl?"

"You really want to know?"

"Yes. No. Not now. But I have to talk to you about something."

"Oh." House braced himself. I don't like you anymore, this isn't working out, I don't want the baby to be screwed up, I think it's best if I just leave. There were so many reasons she should go, and he couldn't think of one why she should stay.

"Well, my friend Ann called, remember Ann, I think I've mentioned her before…"

"Ummm, maybe. Continue."

"Well, she called and she wanted to know if I wanted to go up to New York with her next weekend, just for a weekend, as kind of like a last hurrah before the baby comes. Now, it seems like a nice idea, and I can't think of a reason why I shouldn't but if you don't want me to, then I'll stay."

House marveled at how he could be so dead on and so far off at the same time.

"No, no, you have to go. Your maternity leave starts in two days anyway. Have a great time."

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's been a long haul, it's about to get even longer, you deserve it."

"Greg? It hasn't been such a long haul, and for your information, I loved every minute of it."

House smiled, but inwardly he was thinking. Ok, it's Sunday. She'll leave Friday night. I have six days with her.

"Allie?"

"Yeah?"

"It's a girl."

Cameron looked shocked. She had completely forgotten about the conversation they had had just a half hour ago.

"Oh. My. Gosh. Ohmygosh. I…I'm having a GIRL!"

Cameron screamed and jumped into a hug. She was laughing and crying and dancing and standing still all the same time and her heart was pounding so hard, she could only guess that House could hear it too.

"Is that what you wanted?"

"Yes!"

"Good."

"Yeah. So I guess we have to…I mean, we can choose a name now."

"Mmmhmm. You got anything new? For a girl so far we have…nothing."

Cameron laughed. Tears of happiness were still coming down her cheek.

"Daniella."

"It's kind of long."

"Kate."

"I've got a better one."

"Good, what is it?"

"Allison."

"What?"

"Allison. That's what we'll name her."

Cameron blushed. "No, no, no, I don't want her named after me. Really, I don't want her to be named Allison. Please."

"Fine, what about your middle name? What is it?"

"Abigail."

"Well, then we could Abby or Gail, or Libby. Libby's my favorite.

Cameron thought about it and rolled it around in her head. Libby House. Libby House. House walking around the apartment, calling out "Libby."

"I love Libby."

"Abigail it is then."

Just then Cameron remembered what her middle name meant in Hebrew. My father's joy.

She smiled.

It had to be fate.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was Tuesday, Cameron's last day at work before she went on her much-anticipated and very much-needed maternity leave. She was in the lab, studying, what else, stool samples from the patient. Oh joy. Suddenly, she got a backache. She wasn't surprised, she'd been having them for two days now, ever since Cameron had found out about her girl, and named her girl, she'd been having random and sometimes painful back spasms. Even though they hurt, she smiled. She couldn't help it, whenever she thought of her girl, her Abigail, her Libby, she felt warm all over.

Foreman walked in, and was surprised to see that she was all alone. "What are you so happy about?"

"Oh, I'm just fantasizing about the days to come when I won't have to dissect stools."

Foreman smirked. "Well, you'll be changing diapers so it's not that big a change."

Cameron did a mock-hurt look. "Foreman, that was mean."

"It was, but you walked right into it."

"Yeah, yeah."

"So anyway, where's House? Got some blood work back, it's not Q Fever."

Out of the blue, Cameron got defensive. "I don't know, why are you asking me?"

"Well, it's just…he's just obviously is worried about you and I guess he doesn't want you to be alone. You know, in case something happens."

Just as suddenly as it had come, Cameron's burst of protective (for whom she really didn't know) energy left, and Cameron slumped back in her seat.

The warm feeling unexpectedly came back, except it was different this time. It was only in one place and that was…Cameron looked at her lap just as Foreman turned to go.

"Foreman, wait!"

"What's up?"

"My…I think…my water just broke."

Cameron was shocked at how calm she was. Meanwhile, Foreman dropped the paperwork he had been holding, stuttered something unintelligible, and stumbled purposely off, leaving a bewildered Cameron still sitting with the stool samples.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Many confusions and accusations (House thought Foreman stressed Cameron into labor even though they both denied it) later, plus twelve hours, Cameron was given the ok to start pushing. As a doctor, House thought beforehand that as this point, she would be screaming, but much to his surprise (he told her to scream if she needed to) she just bit her lip. If it was any measure of how much pain she was in, House saw quite a few drops of blood around her mouth. It wasn't grotesque, just…House would have preferred if she yelled.

Cameron was crying, repeatedly said in between (and sometimes during) pushes that she couldn't do it. House did all he could to reassure her, but he could so little. He hated himself for not being the cheerleader that she needed. For more than a few times, he wished he could excuse himself for just a few minutes, just to get Cameron some more ice-chips, and send in Wilson who was waiting right outside on an orange plastic chair, and come back just in time to witness the final push. But he couldn't, he knew he couldn't leave her in her time of need; she would never do that to him.

Suddenly Dr. Verston (the doctor who happened to on call, as Cameron had decided she would stay at PPTH, seeing as she was already there) called out that they were one more push away from parenthood.

House thought it was pretty tell-tale that of all the jokes he could have made there, all he said was "come on, you can do it, your so close, so close."

So Cameron gave it her all. House didn't know when his attention turned from Cameron to the baby, and it was only for a short while, but when he looked back to tell her what a beautiful baby they had, she had her eyes closed and her whole body was slumped back. He shook her gently.

"Al, you did it. Al? Allison?"

Still, no response. All the sudden House was yelling, shaking her but her eyes remained closed and her body lifeless.

By the time the doctors noticed this (it seemed like an eternity although it was only a matter of seconds) House had already realized what had happened and his eyes were moistening. He moved to resuscitate her, but a kind nurse whose name House never learned handed House his newborn daughter and told him that he was too involved, and that they would take care of his wife.

SHE'S LYING, EVERYBODY LIES, DON'T LISTEN TO HER, YOU'LL LOSE YOUR WIFE, SHE'S YOUR LIFE.

Even as all these anvils were dropping on House's head he numbly left Room 719, not even registering the small weight he was cradling in his arms.

House wasn't out of the room for a second before he was mobbed by Wilson, who mistook his friend's ultimate shock and sadness for ultimate surprise and love.

"Oh, House, she's…so beautiful."

"Go. In. There." House motioned towards the area where his entire life was totally redefined. Wilson stood, unsure of what to do, what House meant.

House stuttered before finally saying a single word. "Aneurism"

Wilson, finally seeing the dawn of comprehension, rushed in there leaving House outside with his daughter, his Abigail, his little Libby.

House took a seat in the orange plastic chair. For the first time, he got a good look at Libby. Every single newborn on Earth was at first a bright bunchy red, but this perfect baby was a sweet rosy pink. His baby. He rocked her back and forth, back and forth. Her eyes were exactly the same shade as his, and they gazed back into his.

"I'll never let anything happen to you. I promise." House whispered.

Suddenly Wilson appeared in the doorway. House questioned him with his eyes. Wilson nodded sadly.

House looked down and, for the first time, noticed Libby was holding his hand the entire time.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The funeral was held on Thursday. In the chapel, Wilson and Cuddy had sat just a row behind House. As the trio walked in together (Wilson had been staying with House for the past few days until indefinitely, an unspoken but binding agreement) Wilson had gestured to take Libby. But House looked down, and Libby had wrapped her tiny fist around House's finger, and he just couldn't bear to take it off.

During the funeral, Wilson reflected on the past few days of his life, by far more significant than any other excluding nothing. House was trying and failing to hide his emotions. He didn't cry, but Wilson thought he was handling it pretty well. Certainly not be denial, which is what Wilson would have guessed. But then again, everything was different now. Libby had wrapped everyone that met her (House, Wilson, House's parents, Foreman, Cuddy, Chase, and Cameron's cousin…to no one's surprise, Cameron didn't have a lot of family and House was extremely protective of his daughter, ever conscience that as she was born early, she was especially prone to disease. And he couldn't break his promise) around her little finger. The least fussy baby ever, she rarely cried and when she did, House hobbled over to her so fast, she barely wasted any breath. Not that she didn't have the strongest set of lungs ever to befall a baby.

Wilson didn't realize the tears streaming down his cheeks until the reverend was almost finished with his eulogy. He looked behind him, and for the first time noticed that not only was every single pew filled to the brim with people, but that there were so many people that some had been left standing at the back of the aisle. Wilson was touched that not only were people standing, but that they would rather stand for forty five minutes straight in a crowded room than walk out.

He leaned forward. "House, look behind you."

House complied and saw. "What makes you so surprised?"

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

There was no wake. It was the result of another silent agreement…she was too young, what does a wake matter, why add to the pain?

Wilson had gone to his "old" house to get some more clothes and his toothbrush, which left House and Libby all alone for almost the first time. House, shocked that his newly activated paternal instinct (even more so than when he realized he had one) was pretty accurate, sensed that Libby was exhausted so he put her down as soon as they got home. After that, House wasn't sure what to do with himself, so he just looked in awe at her sleeping form. Perfect wasn't the word to describe it, it didn't cover enough dimensions.

Perfect didn't describe her complexion which Cuddy had assured him it would be peaches and cream, perfect didn't describe how sweet she smelled, perfect didn't describe how docile she was and how she already knew what her father needed and wanted from her, and perfect didn't describe Libby because she was Allison's daughter.

It had to be fate.

Author's Note: Wow, that was my longest one yet and definitely my most explosive chapter. Holy cow, how sad was that? And how much did you love the "Abigail…my father's joy"? I know it's corny but I couldn't think of a name so I went to this website with all the translations and I saw it and I couldn't not use it. And please review! BTW…should I change the title…I think maybe when I mention people's hands (well, mostly how Libby keeps holding on to House's) it's too subtle. Again…review! Pretty please! Oh, and sorry if it's out of character, I try but it's hard with this kind of situation. I did the best I could.