Disclaimer…Don't own nothin' ya'all. Feel free to use the names of any of the people I create here except for Libby. Oh, and I especially don't own Garth Brooks' "The Dance." Fabulous song, by the way. If you know it, that's a spoiler (for this chapter).
Author's Note…I don't feel so good today so I figured "hey, why not write another chapter?" Haha, chapter 13 isn't even showing up yet. So, if I get any reviews that aren't mentioned (please please please) sorry about that. Take this chapter as an apology gift. And oh yeah, Libby still has one more chemo left…but I take care of that in like, the first sentence.
It was the end of October. Libby had just finished her ultimate, super-last round of chemo (or at least that's what House hoped to G/d and back for). This one seemed to be the hardest. She missed a whole week of school; she was throwing up for so long. But that wasn't what was worrying Libby.
Every year, the Girl Scouts hosted a father/daughter dance for all its troupe members. Libby had talked about it at great length with Cuddy; she thought she shouldn't even mention it to her dad, but Cuddy pushed her to do it. House would do it just because he loved her. But Cuddy didn't really like talking to Libby about it; it reminded her too much of a talk she had had to have with him for…two weeks now? Thirteen days, sixteen hours, and seven minutes to be exact. Yes, Cuddy thought herself a bit pathetic for knowing and going so far as to memorize the exact moment House kissed her.
But it wasn't nearly as pathetic as House thought himself for knowing the exact same thing.
Cuddy, tired of the conversation, was practically dragging Libby down the hallway to the Diagnostics Lounge. They both stood at the threshold, looking at the man which caused them both a crazy amount of angst. More so than he had any right to.
Cuddy nudged Libby forward gently. "Go on."
"Dad?"
House looked up and turned around so he was sitting and directly facing her. "What's up? How ya feeling?"
"Oh, umm, I'm fine. I was just…well…you know the Girl Scouts have this dance, a father/daughter dance…and I was wondering…you don't have to go if you don't want to…I mean…it's not a rule or anything. But I mean…you could come if you wanted too."
House smiled. "I would love to."
Libby's eyes grew wide. "You would?"
"Yes, of course."
Cuddy squeezed Libby's shoulder. "See? I told you."
House laughed. "What? You didn't think I would want to come?"
Libby blushed. "Well, it's just you always say how stupid and sappy the activities they have are, is all."
Now it was Cuddy's turn to laugh. "House, you're an idiot."
"I try."
"Well, you certainly don't disappoint."
Libby looked back and forth between them. "Ooooookay, it's in two days. Are you sure you don't mind?"
"I'm positive."
Libby grinned. "Thanks, Dad." She walked over and gave House a sweet kiss on the cheek. House's heart melted. These days, it was just too easy to do.
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The night of the dance arrived. House knocked on the bathroom door, once, twice, three times. "You almost ready, Libs?"
"Yeah! Two seconds, I promise!"
"One…Two…Thr…" Libby burst from the bathroom, all aglow in the light blue dress Cuddy had gotten her the day before.
"That was three seconds."
"Two and a half." Libby surveyed House's attire. He was wearing black dress pants, a black sports jacket, and a sky blue button-down shirt. "You clean up nice."
"Why thank-you, m'lady."
Ten minutes later (House said seven, Libby said thirteen) they arrived at the school. They sat in the car uncomfortably for a couple minutes in silence. Finally, Libby broke it. "Dad, if you want to go home or something, I can…I'd understand. I can stay here and hang out with my friends. It'll be fine."
"No, no. I'll stay."
"Are you sure?"
"Absolutely. Come on. Let's go."
The music was blaring some random little girl songs. As if taken over by some strange, awkward-activated magnetism, the girls that were already there and just arriving drifted towards Libby. She glanced helplessly as they led her to the dance floor. House nodded as if to encourage her to enjoy herself. She smiled. House walked over to the punch bowl and prayed that it was spiked as he downed a Vicoden. I'm going to need a lot more of these tonight.
He couldn't have imagined.
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Libby and her "crew" as House called them in his mind had been dancing for an hour and forty-five minutes, no food, little water. The DJ (somebody's uncle) announced that it was time for a last dance, a dance for "the girlies and the daddies."
Oh, dear.
Libby walked shyly over to House. "If it will bother your leg or something, that's fine. I'm probably not a good dancer anyway."
House stared in part shock/part pleasure at Libby. Here she is, providing me with the perfect opportunity to sit out, the ultimate excuse to sit out, who am I to refuse it?
I don't want to be the kind of father that sits out.
House got up. "Come on."
"We're going?"
"Yeah. To dance."
Libby grinned. House led her out to the dance floor and they both swayed awkwardly as only this unique father and daughter could. A sad song was playing about a dance. What is wrong with this DJ? Who would play this song at an elementary school dance targeted at five and six year old girls? House listened to the words.
Looking back on the memory of
The dance we shared 'neath the stars above
For a moment all the world was right
How could I have known that you'd ever say good-bye
Suddenly, House felt Libby begin to shake. He recognized that shake. It was the first tremble of a seizure.
Before House even processed that information, Libby was on the ground, her head making a heavy thump as it made contact with the hard dance floor, her body shaking like madness. House vaguely remembered that at some point before he dropped to his knees to try to calm her body (you can't calm it without drugs, get her drugs, anything) he yelled out to call an ambulance. In one of Libby's spasmodic movements, her elbow had collided with House's bad leg. It hurts so much more than it should. For the rest of his life, House would associate that song with blue dresses, screaming girls, his daughter's blood. Tears.
And now I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end
The way it all would go
Our lives are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I've had had to miss
The dance
The EMT's were frantically injecting Libby with something that would make the seizures stop. She had had another one before they got to the school and she was already starting to quiver again. House sat helplessly in the vehicle. He felt too numb to do anything but stare.
One of the EMT's watched House and asked him if he could tell whether the seizure was the cause of the fall or if the fall was the cause of the seizure.
"The seizure. It was the seizure's fault."
The sympathetic EMT nodded and didn't ask anymore questions. He just told the other one that she had a concussion and they had to hook her up to the transportable ventilator because the machine that was monitoring her breathing was beeping like crazy and her lips were turning blue. House didn't care. It was his Libby, his baby they had strapped to that gurney and that was all that was important.
Holding you
I held everything
For a moment
Wasn't I a king?
If I'd only known
How the king would fall
Then who's to say
You know I might have changed it all
Cuddy was waiting for them at the Emergency Entrance. Looking back, House had no idea how she knew to be there, he didn't remember the EMTs paging her. But she was there, right where House needed her. He watched as they wheeled Libby in and stood outside for a few minutes until Cuddy broke down in sobs into House's chest. She cried and she cried and she cried. House just numbly patted her back. Their almost robotic moment was broken by Wilson's urgent page: "Infection. Heart surgery. Operating Room 12."
And now
I'm glad I didn't know
The way it all would end
The way it all would go
Our lives
Are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I've had had to miss
The dance
House and Cuddy sat silently next to each other in the operating waiting room. Cuddy was still crying. House didn't remember crying, but he remembered that it seemed only natural that his face was wet. House awkwardly put his arm around Cuddy's shoulder and pulled her closer. That felt natural too. Cuddy gazed up at House through her tears.
"How was her dance?"
Yes, our lives
Are better left to chance
I could have missed the pain
But I've have to had
To miss
The dance
House looked at her. "It was perfect."
Yes, I've had had to miss
The dance