Disclaimer: Don't own nothing except Harrison and the infinitely adorable Libby. But not House.
Author's Note: New chapter woohoo! I think I am quite good at updating quickly. So please review…and to those that did:
paige fan…I guess I didn't make it clear enough that House is in denial. He is. And in this chapter, all those feelings that he didn't want to deal will come tumbling down in the…what is it now? Third major tragedy? Poor House…but they have all happened so the plot could take place. And Chapter Six wasn't so much filler as transition and I laid down a lot of groundwork.
Nikelodean…I'm so glad you enjoyed the story!
BTW…The first part is fluffy! And groundworky! Boy, do I love multi-tasking!
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"Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday to you! Happy Birthday dear Libby…Happy Birthday to you!"
House, Cuddy, Foreman, Chase, Harrison, and quite a few other doctors and nurses as well as many children from the PPTH Day Care all cheered as Libby attempted to blow out the single candle that honored the passing of her first birthday. Wilson was absent as he was away on vacation the week of Libby's birthday. He was actually supposed to be home yesterday but had gotten "stormed in" (but House interpreted it as "I met someone").
House helped Libby (actually, he was more eager to see what she got than she was) unwrap her presents. "Let's see, this one is from Chase." House feigned shock. "A puzzle! For children three and up! How appropriate!" Chase turned red. "Libby's a smart girl…and it looked easy."
It was true that Libby was pretty advanced for her age. She had mastered the fine art of crawling at six and a half months, managed to stand with the help of a table or some other type of support at seven months, and had taught herself how to do a sweet toddle at ten months. In addition to that, Libby could do child puzzles that were marked for ages "2+." Obviously, House and the Diagnostics Team (who considered their "combined powers and influences" equal to a parental unit and a half) had a lot to be proud of.
Suddenly, Wilson burst into the room. Everyone was too distracted by his grand entrance, new tan, and souvenirs to notice that Libby was playing with the puzzle. She tumbled all the pieces and first turned them all right side up. Then, slowly but surely, she pieced them together on the puzzle board. Not even seven minutes later, Cuddy looked back at Libby just in time to see Libby fit in the final section.
For the first time in her memory, Cuddy squealed. "Libby!" Everyone turned their attention to the one year old. Chase stuttered. "She did a puzzle…that's supposed to be challenging for a three year old…in less than ten minutes…all by herself? That's…incredible!" He knelt down and gave Libby's shoulders a squeeze.
The pride Cuddy felt for Libby rivaled that of any parent's for their child. More than once Cuddy considered giving House a few extra canes because he would certainly need them to beat off the boys in a few years. Libby was truly angelic looking…she had her father's crystal blue eyes, her mother's peaches and cream complexion, and strawberry-blonde hair that was beginning to curl in what Cuddy was sure would be gorgeous locks of banana curls.
Half an hour later, the "party" was over and House was pulling out of the parking lot when suddenly he was practically thrown out of his by a sudden crash. Out of instinct, he first checked that Libby was safely in her car-seat (she was) then turned to see whose car crashed into his. It would soon meet its demise.
"Cuddy!"
Cuddy looked shocked at the mess House's car was and the non-mess her car was.
"House I am so sorry completely my fault I will pay for it no problem no hassle no nothing…" Cuddy suddenly remembered who traveled with House. "Waitaminute…is Libby ok?"
"My baby's really hurt."
Cuddy seemed to fold into herself as tears sprung into her eyes. "I…Ohmygosh House, I…I would never intentionally hurt Libby…you know I love her like she's my own."
"No, not Libby. Rosie. She looks like she's in terrible shape, don't you think?"
Cuddy gaped angrily at House.
"You're going to have to get over the usual rage as you are now mine and Libby's ride home."
"I'll take Libby to your apartment, no way am I letting you in my car after that…horrible joke."
"Nuh-uh. I'm coming. If my only daughter is getting in the car with a woman driver, I'm coming with her."
"House!"
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Two and a half years later (big time leap…I know…but I've got to get that plot a movin' and a groovin'!)
House was thoroughly disappointed in his medical abilities. For the past month, Libby had a cough that she simply could not kick. At first House thought it was allergies, so he gave her a series of three anti-histamines until he attempted to treat with cold and flu medicines. Still, no luck. Before he transferred her to strong cough medicines (he had already tried all the weaker ones) he decided he might as well have Wilson give her quick check-up.
Which was how he ended up fidgeting in the cheap seat of the Head Oncologist's office as Wilson listened to Libby breathe as she chatted happily to him about how pointless this test was. This process was made especially cute by the fact that Libby had a hard time pronouncing her "L's" and "R's", which resulted in "Wibby", "Doctoua Wiwlson", "Doctoua Foawman," and the like.
"I promise (pwamise) Uncle Jimmy, or I guess here its Dr. Wilson, I really don't need this. I mean…"
"Breathe."
She took in a deep breath and continued talking. "I mean, I know how to breathe. I've been doing it on my own since the tender age of five seconds."
Wilson laughed. She was just as funny as her father, but in a nice way. She was also just as smart, but of course not educated.
"Breathe."
"Hey, Dr Wilson?"
"Breathe. Yeah?"
Libby tried to take a deep breath but instead coughed this horrible, hacking, dry cough. Wilson looked up at House in concern as Libby coughed for a few minutes.
"You ok there?"
"Yeah Dad, I'm fine."
"Breathe. What were you going to say, Libby?"
"Oh. I was going to ask if I have smaller lungs than my friends from the Day Care Center just because I'm the smallest one there."
Wilson looked up at Libby. She really was tiny, more so than anyone else of her age group but not so much that anyone should be worried. Even so, looking at her was an optical indulgence. Just as Cuddy predicted, she had long, strawberry-blonde banana curls that hung around her face in innocent but budding beauty. Wilson dreaded the days when boys would be looking at that sweet face. Boys that were younger versions of Wilson.
"Dr. Wilson?"
Wilson snapped back to reality. "Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie. Yes, you do have smaller lungs, but they're the same size compared to their body as your friends lungs are compared to theirs. It's kind of hard to understand. Breathe."
"No, I think I get it. Like, my lungs are just the right size for my body. And their lungs are just the right size for their bodies. Is it like that?"
Wilson grinned. She really was a bright kid. "Yeah, exactly like that. Ok, sweetie, I'm going to run some blood tests and you're going to get an X-Ray. You've never gotten one of those before, have you? Roll up your sleeve, you talk while I'll take the blood."
"No, I haven't." She bit her lip and winced slightly as Wilson gave her the somewhat painful blood test. He needed quite a bit.
House also winced, but that was at the memory of seeing the woman he loved bite her lip while she was in extreme pain. She should have screamed.
But House shook his head and wiped those thoughts from his mind. If I don't think them, I won't have to deal with them. I can deal with this. X-Ray. That's not good.
"Ahhh, what's she need an X-Ray for?" Stupid. I know exactly why she needs an X-Ray.
Wilson beckoned a nurse with a wheelchair to bring Libby down to Radiology. "Oh, nothing to worry about. I just want to make sure there's nothing there, that's all." Inwardly, Wilson was disgusted with himself. Liar.
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Six hours later…
House glanced at Libby, who was dozing off in a chair in the Oncology Lab. He looked back at Wilson, who was grimly analyzing the X-Rays. A tumor. On her right lung. His baby.
Wilson looked up. "House. The tests are back. It's…it's not good."
"Oh." House braced himself.
"Well, you have to know that…" House interrupted him.
"Wilson. I'm not some random parent. Your presentation isn't going to change the facts. Just tell me."
"It's extensive small-cell lung cancer. She might have gotten it from…maybe from Allie. Cameron." Wilson blurted the news out. There had to have been a better way to tell him than that.
The words and the facts echoed in House's ears. Extensive small-cell lung cancer. The survival rate's less than 5.
My daughter probably won't see her tenth birthday.
Suddenly, the room seemed too small for House. He abruptly stood up, left the lab and slammed the door, waking up Libby. She looked from her father's retreating form to Wilson. She looked Wilson in the eye, those crazy blue eyes, but talked gently. "What's going on?"
Wilson could give House this much, the duty of telling his daughter she was dying no longer lied with House. Wilson sighed and began the task of telling a three and a half year old girl she was dying.
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Two hours and on speeding ticket later House found himself walking through the graveyard, aided by a flashlight. It was midnight.
It was so, so, dark.
Finally, House found the grave he was looking for. Here lies Allison Cameron.
Without giving a thought to what he was about to do and giving it all the thoughts in the world, House kicked the tombstone with his good leg. He stared at it for a moment, clicked the flashlight off, and suddenly dropped to his knees, his body convulsed by inhuman sobs, full of anger and sorrow.
He was eclipsed by darkness.
Author's Note: Wow! A lot got done just there! Ok, that's the plot for you. I plan on taking things a lot slower now, without all these major time jumps. Oh yeah, and I'm changing the title to "Better to Have Loved and Lost…" You know what to do…REVIEW! Pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaase review!