Here is a really, really long chapter!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! But PLEASE don't be mad with me!! You'll understand when you read the last of the chapter.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
"13 Days – 4:17 pm, boy"
Cameron read those words on a piece of paper she received in the mail, actually it was House's mail. This was the third letter she'd gotten, and she recognized the handwriting every time. The first one she got she laughed and just chucked it in the trash, paying them no mind. The second letter she got – same time, same sex, 14 Days – she frowned, finding no humor in it at all. This time she was started to get angry after she suddenly realized what House had done.
"Chase, Foreman, did House bet you guys the date and time of the baby's birth?" she asked them, peering suspiciously at them from the desk in the corner.
"No," Chase answered, giving her a quick glance before resorting back to the magazine he was reading.
"Nu-uh," Foreman said, not even looking up at her.
"Liars!" she huffed, through the paper in the trash and stood up, slowly. Her back had started to bother her the past few days, as well as having to go to the bathroom every thirty minutes.
Cameron was due in approximately 14 days, and the baby had dropped a few days earlier. She was having trouble walking, and was forced to wear sneakers with her maternity dresses because heels at that stage of pregnancy were impossible. She was scheduled to take off the last week of the predicted due date.
They had discussed baby names, and House had almost agreed to Alexander, but then the next day refused to even consider it. He wanted Wolfgang, as in Wolfgang Amaedus, and Cameron told House that there was no way in hell she would name her child that. They almost agreed on Lucy if it was a girl, after House's latest crush, Lucy Lui, but House refused to even accept that it might be a girl.
Cameron stormed into House's office, where he was on the computer playing Zuma, and was very close to sinking the last ball, fighting to keep the other balls in play by sending the proper color to disintegrate them.
"House! This isn't funny!" she hollered, waving the piece of paper at him, making him jump, which ruined his concentration, and lost his turn.
"Darnit! I told you not to bother me when I'm playing!"
"Tough," she said, sitting down on the couch, not even bothering to sit in the chair at his desk.
House looked at her and frowned, wondering why she did so. "You okay?"
"Yeah, I guess."
"Are you just pissed we didn't get you in the pool for the baby's happy arrival? Half of the hospital has their money in it."
"Are you serious? Oh, I should have known."
"Hun, what's wrong, really?"
Cameron looked up at him because he didn't call her 'hun' or 'baby' or 'sweetie' unless he was really concerned about something.
She shrugged her shoulders and said, "Scared, I guess."
"Good."
She frowned at him. "Why 'good'?"
"Because – if you weren't you wouldn't be ready."
"Ha! Like I have a choice."
House smiled sweetly and said, "You'll do fine. Women have been having babies for thousands of years."
"Maybe, but it's the first time for me."
Just then, Debra stuck her head in the door and asked if she was interrupting anything.
"Yes…and you didn't add your name in the pool!"
Cameron rolled her eyes and Debra then smiled.
"You guys want dinner tonight? Jim's been kind of down and I was hoping it might cheer him up."
"You sure he's up for it?" Cameron asked.
"He sure won't kick you out…maybe Greg but not you," Debra answered with a smile.
"Fine – what time?" House asked.
"Seven o'clock sounds good."
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"Wow, girl, you make the best lasagna," House complimented Debra as they were sitting at the dining room table.
"Thanks, that's the only way I can get you to stay."
"Yeah, Debra, it's great!" Cameron agreed, cutting another big square for herself, her second helping, even though everyone else was still on their first.
Debra looked over at Wilson, who was just picking at the meal and putting only a pea-size of it in his mouth.
Since the surgery he hadn't eaten much, but Debra assumed it was the constant pain from the surgery. She tried talking to him about it, but he seemed to shut himself off to her. She was afraid he was keeping something from her and she was going to check with House later that night.
Now eight-month old Gregory was sitting in the high-chair beside his mother, and on the other side sat his Godfather. He was happily munching on cheerios and oatmeal, which were the only things he'd eat his fill worth. He refused to use a spoon for the mush, simply eating it with his fingers.
When they were half-way through the meal, Gregory got the remaining oatmeal in his hand, looked at his Godfather, got the most evil grin on his face and threw it at House, hitting a bull's eye right on his ear.
As he giggled, looking at his Godfather, he said, 'Gegg.'
All eight eyes shot at the baby, and Wilson almost looked hurt, which Debra caught on her husband's face.
"Oh, my god! He just said his first word!" Cameron squealed.
House smiled at the baby, patted his head and said, "Good boy!"
Wilson put his fork on his plate, making a loud clatter that drew everyone's attention away from Gregory on to Wilson.
"Excuse me," he said, stood and charged off for the bathroom, slamming it shut.
Both House and Cameron looked at Debra, shocked at Wilson's reaction. She shrugged her shoulders.
"I don't know what's gotten into him. Greg, do you think it could be his medication? Think maybe he needs to either change or up the dose?"
"I don't know."
Debra thought about that, looked at Gregory, then the amount of food House had left, which was almost gone and said, "Allison, would you mind watching Gregory? I need to talk to Greg for a minute."
"Sure, of course! Not a problem," Cameron said, stuffing another forkful into her mouth.
As House stood up, he told her, "Don't eat it all! Leave some for us!"
"Phhhttt," Cameron replied, and right on cue Gregory imitated her.
A few minutes later, as House and Debra stood on the balcony, she asked him, "Greg, I know Jim's had a couple of doctor's appointments, and he just tells me everything is fine; but he doesn't ever sound happy when he says it. So, I called Dr. Samuels, who said he's reacted very well to the surgery, and that there is more than 95 percent likelihood that the cancer is gone. Has he said anything to you?"
House frowned out of concern. "No, nothing. It could be his medication, though. He should definitely get that checked."
Debra nodded her head. "Do you think…he'd…" Debra couldn't say it; she never knew Wilson to be so down that he'd even consider suicide, but now she wasn't so sure. She knew how close he and House were, and her only option left was to ask House. "Do you think he'd ever do something…"
House didn't know what she was getting at, but when he did he was surprised at her. "No, god, no. Not Wilson."
"So, he's never, ever given you any hint that he might do something, you know…" She couldn't say it; she felt like a coward because of it.
"No, he's not the type."
She looked at him funny. "Not the type? What do you mean, 'not the type?'"
House diverted his eyes from her and looked out over the woods that backed the rear of the building, pulled out the bottle of vicodin and popped two. "I just mean…he's never been that unhappy that he'd considering suicide. I know he wouldn't, as a matter of fact."
"You're so sure of that – why?"
"I just am."
Debra stared him down to the point House grew uncomfortable. "So, anyone that's unhappy and/or miserable is suicidal? And someone that is unhappy won't do anything?"
"That's not what I said."
"Ha…I'm not sure what I just said myself. He just won't talk to me, that's all."
Debra kept staring at her cousin, trying to figure out what was going through his brain. She thought back on all the 'deep' conversations they'd had, and pieced it together.
"You know he's not suicidal because he's not like you." She waited for a response. She got none. "How'd you do it?"
He glared at her as if she was trying to steal his soul, and he would have none of that. "I haven't."
"Yes, you have. That's why you're not concerned about Wilson." He continued to stare at her. "I'm fairly happy, Greg. Not all the time, but generally I am happy, always have been. I think that's why I talk so much…if I keep talking I distract myself back to thinking about 'it.' So, you're telling me that because I'm not like you, I've not tried to kill myself?"
House couldn't believe what he'd just heard. Was it a confession? He didn't really want to know; he'd come to think of Debra as a strong person, not so insecure that she'd try to end it all.
"Well, you're wrong, cousin." Now it was Debra's turn to look out over the woods.
House never took his eyes off of her. And yes, he was shocked at her confession. "How, and why?"
"Sleeping pills, and because I'd been having a lot of nightmares of…and just couldn't handle it anymore."
House tilted his head up. "How old were you?"
"16. You?" She knew she was right, and it didn't matter if he told her or not, she just knew he had.
He hated being trapped, but he knew she had him, and he didn't have the strength to really 'fight' with her on the subject. "12, aspirin-I was a stupid kid." A few moments later he said, "…and 46."
Debra laughed through her nose, but it wasn't really a laugh. It was an understanding, a bond, she realized they shared. And it wasn't a very pleasant bond. "22."
The Debra laughed, laughed loud and hard. But tears built up in her eyes and tried to fight them back. "Well, I guess we know the one thing we suck at, huh?"
House couldn't help but smile. He, too, admired that about her – she could find humor in anything, even doing the one thing – well, almost the one thing – that would really piss God off.
"So, no, I don't think Wilson is suicidal."
She sighed heavily and wiped her cheeks of her tears. "Greg, I think you'd better pack Allison's here-comes-the-baby bag for the hospital."
He frowned, panic set in but quickly dissipated and said, "No, she's got 13 days left!"
"God, I need a cigarette. I'll be right back."
Debra opened the sliding glass door and went into the living room for her purse, where she kept her every-now-and-then pack of cigarettes. She listened for sounds of the baby, and smiled when she heard him clapping his hands and gurgling. Then she heard a chair being pushed back.
"Oh, shit," Cameron said. "Greg! Is that you?!"
"No, it's Debra," she said, heading off to the dining room to see what was wrong.
Debra stopped in mid-step, and said, "Oh, shit" when she saw Cameron holding her stomach and staring down at her feet.
"GREG!!!!!!!!! Get in here, NOW!"
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Ok, I lied!!!!!! I said she'd have her baby……..but I lied!!! Sorry!!! She's just going into labor….so I guess it'll be the next chapter that she delivers Greg, Jr….or Gregorette, Jr.
