My Little Girl

Author's Note: Here it is, kids; the last chapter. This is actually what inspired this whole fanfiction idea in the first place; hearing this song on the radio, and imagining House with his non-existent daughter. So…I created him one. Haha. Thank you all so much for reading & reviewing. And in case I didn't mention it before, House M.D., its characters nor any of its plotlines belong to me. If only…

Song: "My Little Girl" – Tim McGraw

***

This was it: the big moment. House watched as she loaded the last box into the trunk of her car, before slamming it down with a force he didn't know she had. She flipped her dark, curly hair over her shoulder, and walked toward the front porch of her family home. Purple converse scuffed against the sidewalk as she approached her parents, standing silently near the porch swing.

Gotta hold on easy as I let you go;
gonna tell you how much I love you, though you think you already know.
I remember I thought you looked like an angel wrapped in pink so soft and warm.
You've had me wrapped around your finger since the day you were born.

"Are you sure you have everything?" Cuddy asked her daughter for the millionth time.

House watched as 18-year old Ava Rose rolled her eyes at her mother, laughing as she reassured her again that yes, she had everything, and yes, she would call if she didn't, and yes, she would call anyway just to say she got there okay. A small smirk appeared on House's face. She really was her mother's daughter. She was Cuddy's mirror image—only with his blue eyes. He remembered the first moment he saw those eyes.

***

"Congratulations Dr. House, Dr. Cuddy—it's a girl."

Cuddy fell back against the pillows, exhausted, while the nurses swept away the crying baby to clean her up and conduct all the standard tests. House squeezed Cuddy's hand, smiling lightly as he let it drop to the bed beside her. He limped over toward the group of nurses and waited as they examined the child—his child. The older nurse turned to him, holding a squirming bundle of pink. She carefully handed him the baby, and House felt the breath catch in his throat as he peered down into the face of this tiny person. She blinked, staring straight up into his eyes—blue on blue. In that moment, he knew he had never loved anyone or anything as much as he loved this little girl. Nothing would ever be the same.

***

When you were in trouble that crooked little smile could melt my heart of stone.
Now look at you, I've turned around and you've almost grown.
Sometimes you're asleep I whisper "I love you." in the moonlight at your door.
As I walk away, I hear you say, "Daddy, love you more!"

As he stood there, watching Ava say her goodbyes to her mother, House couldn't help but remember watching his daughter grow up. From her first words, to her first steps, to the very first time she touched his piano.

***

House groaned as he turned over into his pillow. It was an early Saturday morning—or at least early according to his standards. He didn't particularly want to be awake at 10:00, but he couldn't tune out the banging noise coming from the living room. The sound of B flats, G naturals, D sharps and everything in between, being pounded down all at once suddenly registered in his brain: the piano. House rolled himself out of bed, grabbed for his cane, and began to limp down the hall toward the sound. There, sitting on his piano bench, sat 5-year old Ava, banging away with a grin plastered across her little face. House cringed as he could practically hear the hammers breaking under the lid.

"Ava!" House shouted. "What are you doing to my piano?"

Ava turned to her father, smiling. "Daddy! I play a song for you!"

House only stared at her for a moment, his anger melting away from the brightness of her smile. Her gap-toothed grin made the abuse of his piano fade in comparison. House limped over to the bench, sitting down beside her.

"What do you say I teach you a real song?"

Ava looked up at him, blue eyes shimmering in the morning sunlight. She nodded excitedly, laying her fingers across the keys the way she had watched her father do so many times before.

By the time Cuddy returned from the hospital that afternoon, Ava was playing "Mary Had a Little Lamb" almost perfectly, while her father rode shot-gun on the bench beside her.

***

He couldn't believe that that little girl was now the beautiful young woman standing before him. Nor could he believe that that song on the piano was only one of the many that came after, including the ones she had written, which had been her ticket to Berklee College of Music in Boston. He liked to give himself credit for that accomplishment, but he knew that Ava had achieved that all on her own.

Sometimes, when he looked at her, he still saw the little girl who ran through the sprinkler in the summertime, a popsicle stain around her mouth, arms open wide to the sky as she collapsed in the grass, laughing. He saw the little girl who he spent countless hours playing Go Fish and checkers with. He saw the little girl who used to curl up beside him, her head resting against his good leg, teddy bear in hand, while they watched Saturday morning cartoons, or sometimes, if she was lucky, while he read her a story at bedtime.

***
"Please Daddy? Just one story?" 6-year old Ava held the little paperback book out to her father, eyes bright with hope. Some nights, House said no, but tonight, looking between his daughter's bright blue eyes and the little brown…thing in a pair of blue bunny pajamas, he couldn't help but cave.

He took the book from Ava's hands. "Scoot over." Her smile instantly appeared, brightening her face as her father settled beside her on the pink four-poster princess bed. She leaned against his arm as he began to read of the antics of a little critter who just didn't want to go to bed.

House came to the end of the story, closing the little book and laying it on Ava's nightstand. He looked down to find her sound asleep against his left arm. Sighing, House gently rolled her off of him and pushed himself to his feet. He bent over and pulled the covers up higher over her tiny frame, brushing a stray brown curl off her forehead. Tucking her brown bear, William into her arm, he pressed a kiss to her cheek, and made his way out of the room, pausing in the doorway. He turned to look back at his sleeping daughter. He glanced into the hallway to make sure his wife wasn't spying on him again, before turning to look back at Ava.

"I love you Cuddle-Bear," he whispered, barely audible to even himself. He reserved that nickname for the moments where he knew no one would hear. Smiling, he began to close the door.

"I love you more Daddy." Her little voice rang out in the darkness, piercing his heart the way it did every time she said those words. He shook his head in wonder at the way this one little girl had captured his heart. He left the door open a crack and left the room.

***

How could she have grown up so fast? It was all too soon. And he knew the worst was yet to come.

Someday, some boy will come and ask me for your hand.
But I won't say "yes" to him unless I know he's the half that makes you whole;
he has a poet's soul, and the heart of a man's man.
I know he'll say that he's in love, but between you and me, he won't be good enough.

Yes, Ava had dated some in high school, but never anything serious enough to cause him worry. But now she was leaving for college, in another town, in another state—with many, many more boys. These are boys that she could date, and even marry. No one would ever be good enough—deserving enough to marry her. She was perfect to him, and he wasn't ready to share her with anyone else. It really was all too soon.

"Daddy?" Ava shook House from his thoughts as she waved her hand in front of his face. "Come on, old man, wake up." She smiled that little smile that had never failed to melt his heart, and looked straight into his eyes—blue on blue, just like the first time. "Dad, I've got to hit the road if I'm going to get there before dark."

"Yeah, yeah, I know." He continued to stare at her, not willing to let her go just yet.

Ava reached for him, wrapping her arms around his waist, squeezing him tightly. House pulled her closer, kissing the crown of her head before resting his chin there. She buried her face in his chest, breathing in the way he smelled—a mix of Irish Spring, good scotch and…Dad. They both squeezed their eyes shut, knowing that goodbye was coming fast.

"I love you Cuddle-Bear," House whispered in her ear, only loud enough for the two of them to hear.

"I love you more, Daddy." Ava whispered back, kissing his cheek.

She pulled away, giving her mother one last hug and smiling at them both, before climbing into her blue Ford Fusion and starting it up. She put the car in reverse and began to pull out of the driveway. House reached for Cuddy's hand, squeezing gently as Ava's car disappeared from view. Cuddy wiped the tears from her eyes, and smiled up at her husband.

"We did good, Greg."

She kissed him softly before retreating into the house. House's eyes remained fixed on the spot where he'd last seen the taillights.

"Yeah," he breathed. "Yeah, we did."

You're beautiful baby, from the outside in.
Chase your dreams, but always know the road that'll lead you home again.
Go on, take on this whole world, but to me, you know you'll always be my little girl.

-Fin

***

Final Author's Note: Well, there you have it guys, the last one-shot in the series. I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. In case you were wondering, Ava's storybook was "Just Go to Bed," a Little Critter story by Mercer Meyer. His stories were my personal bedtime favorites growing up, and that particular one was the first my dad ever read to me.

Oh, and BTW—I read an AMAZING Huddy spoiler earlier. I won't post it here, but if you'd like to know/read it, go ahead and message me, and I'll pass it along. HUDDY FTW!

And again, thank you for all your support for my very first House fic. I promise there will be more to come in the future, as soon as inspiration strikes. Feel free to continue reviewing! :]

xoxo

Allyson Rae
"Peace, Love & Music"