Chapter N°5

Chase is giving you his version of puppy eyes from across the room and Foreman already passed to give you the 'I'm here for you speech'. A bit hypocrital after the stunt he pulled with your article but then again you told him he was forgiven and you really can't complain right now.

Your boss, genius that he is, has left you on your own for about six hours before coming to annoy you with stupid question and stupid baby blue eyes. How are you supposed to be angry at him if a look is all it takes for you to start thinking 'aww...how cute he is'? Damn. His puppy eyes could rival Kiba's. Chase really is not competition.

Anyway, your father will be there in matters of minutes and, strangely enough, all the Diagnostic Department is there, out in the cold, to greet him. Somehow you know they're just dying to see what kind of man gave you half of your genetics.

House is standing right behind you and the heat that divides you two seems to going up a few grades every second or two.

But then your father is there and you forget everybody else.

He is different. Painfully thin and with a lot less hairs then the last time you saw him. He seems to be already halfway in a grave.

You shudder and a brief pray escape your control.

Next thing you'll know, you'll became catholic again.

But your father is here, and you remember why.

He is looking at you with the same smile and the same eyes that greeted you whenever you went home. And, impossible as it is, this white room has become the old kitchen of your childhood.

You rush at him, draped on a wheelchair, and your head is in his lap, and his hand in your hairs. Like always.

You don't want to. You really don't.

But you're sobbing like a child because his hand feels different: thinner and frail. It's not his hand. And all the same, his caresses are still firm and gentle. Just like you remember.

Three nurses have come to take him in his new room and you disentangle yourself from this awkward hug.

You wipe your eyes, like the good girl you are, and accept the tissue House is giving you. There is a still moment to process the fact that he is giving you something other then a scratching remark, but then you take a good look at what is in your hand.

A pink laced tissue with puppies and hearts all over it. Just in the lowest corner, an even pinker sentence.

'Daddy's little girl'

Despite all, a smile cracks your lips.