A/N:
Last chapter folks. Sorry for screwing up the ending parts. Thanks everyone for the support and reviews.
Chapter Fifteen: The Death
She didn't recognise them when she went. She had already told her that she wouldn't be there for long but nobody could prepare them for that. They didn't even know what her last memory of them was. House obviously knew the effects of her condition but death was a different thing altogether. Becca tried to understand why her mother changed so dramatically over a few years. From the caring, youthful mother to a twitching, uncontrollable mass. It was difficult for her to see the fully-fledged disease take control of her mother.
--
House's P.O.V
Watching someone suffer and slowly die isn't something very pleasant obviously. Watching a loved one suffer and die is painful. It's unfair. She was too young to go. She fought the disease long enough. Perhaps it was time for her to go. She left our young daughter. She's only 7. Seven years old and without a mother.
Watching Thirteen die, I don't even know if she remembered us at all. I watch her struggle with the complications of the Huntington's. Being a doctor, of course I know what it affects. Slowly and surely, it progressed. As a last resort, I had gotten her on some clinical trials to no avail.
She wouldn't have wanted Becca to see her like that. Given the choice, she wouldn't even want to be like that. Then again, who would? Who would want their psychomotor function, controlling muscles, perception and spatial skills affected? She would have wanted to end it. She might have even killed herself. But she had Becca to live for. Her whole perception changed when we brought her into this world.
Becca had grown to look like a mom. Beautiful, yet with her own strong personality. Thirteen had brought her to the hospital some times when we had no cases. Becca was a little bundle of joy. Cuddy thought she was gorgeous. Everyone loved her. She seemed to have some charm. Becca's second home was Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. When Kutner told her that we called her mom "Thirteen" she referred herself as a little Thirteen and thus, that would be her own self-acclaimed nickname.
We had no idea how to tell our daughter that Thirteen was going to die. It would be too much for a young child. We didn't want to ruin her childhood. But no, Becca was intelligent and mature for her age. She was the one who asked Thirteen whether she was sick. I guess hanging out in a hospital shows you a variety of diseases and symptoms. So, we tried to keep it as simple as possible. Thirteen was sick and not going to be with us for a long time.
Thirteen had a long battle with the Huntington's chorea. She would have wanted it to end.
And it did. Finally. No more pain, no more suffering.