A/N: Thanks for all the reviews, and I'm glad you enjoyed that last chapter - and the story about Mom illegally planting flowers. Some of you will be disappointed a little in this chapter, I know, but realistically, House (and Thornton, too) has hit empty for this day, physically and emotionally. The moment of his return is not the time to dive into the past. They will talk a little in the next chapter. However, those waiting for the full, Blythe-style, lay out everything discussion will not get it in this story. Note that I'm not saying you won't get it. I'm saying it isn't in this story. Little steps on the road to progress. But after the turmoil of this story so far, I think all of the characters need a good night of rest, and this fictional night, they will actually get it. Enjoy 61.

(H/C)

The minutes ticked on relentlessly. Cuddy gave her umpteenth look at her watch - 9:45 - and then looked across to Thomas, expending some of her worry on the family member she could see. "Thomas, you really have to get some sleep tonight." He looked beyond exhausted.

He smiled at her. "I know. I promise, tonight I'll stay away from planes and also be kind to my foot. I'll be fine, Lisa." He looked at his own watch. "But I need to see him before I can get to sleep."

"He'll be worn out himself when they finally do get here," Cuddy reminded him.

"I said see him. I'm not expecting anything more tonight." Thomas sighed and shifted a little in the recliner, fighting off another wave of tiredness.

"It can't be too much longer," Wilson said, and Marina, on the couch next to Cuddy, nodded. "At least the girls haven't woken back up. If they wake up before he returns, they might revolt." They had been promised that their father would be there by morning, and to them, waking up in the middle of the night was at least a downpayment on morning. Rachel often challenged the definition during nights, and Abby could split hairs, too, when she hadn't seen him all day.

Marina stood. "Not a sound, but I'd better take a look at them." She disappeared into the bedroom, and Wilson came to his feet, stretched, and walked through House and Cuddy's room to the bathroom beyond.

Left briefly alone with Thomas, Cuddy came to attention. "Thomas," she said softly. He had been checking his watch again, but he looked up quickly, quirking an eyebrow in a familiar gesture that warmed her. "Something you ought to know. I can't really go into details, but just realize, there is a reason he avoids your name. He's not just trying to hurt you by it."

Even tired, his mind was pretty quick on deductive leaps. "You mean John used that?" His eyes flared up with a cold anger that would have frightened her had she been on the receiving end of it.

"Just think about it," she said. "And please, don't tell him I told you that much."

His fingers drummed an agitated pattern on his leg. "I know the past has bad associations for him, too. I just didn't think about that particular piece of it. Does it bother him in general? From other people, I mean?"

"Watch him." Cuddy felt like she was walking a confidentiality tightrope here, but she wanted to give him something. "You can work it out."

"I'm definitely never expecting him to be able to call me Dad. I know John ruined that for him. But the girls don't seem to bother him calling him Daddy. Back at the trial, he started out his evidence calling John Dad, and then he switched partway. Was that a new breakthrough right then?" She hesitated, and he backed off. "I'm sorry, Lisa. I know you're in an awful spot here between us. I'm not trying to make you overreach."

At that moment, Marina emerged from the bedroom. "Out like lights," she reported. "They're tired, too."

"They've had a rough week just like the rest of us," Thomas said.

Wilson returned from the bedroom, and before he even had a chance to sit down again, the front door rattled. Cuddy bounced up like a jack in the box as her husband and Jensen entered the suite. Thomas put the footrest of the recliner down, started to rise himself, and then stayed put, not wanting to make his son feel on the spot. His eyes drank in every detail, though, as he watched him. Wilson abandoned his trip back to his own chair, took two steps, then paused and waited as Cuddy went on up to greet her husband.

House looked completely drained. His whole body was sagging slightly, and the limp was the worst Thomas had seen it yet. Cuddy and Wilson both mentally assigned him about an 8. There was no sign of the box of letters. There was perhaps a suggestion of new clarity in his eyes, though. He looked like one who had walked through a slashing storm and perhaps saw the end of it ahead, even if he hadn't emerged from the rain completely yet. Cuddy met him before he was five steps inside the door, embracing him tightly, and he leaned into her. "We're back," he announced needlessly a moment later as they parted. "Are the girls okay?"

"They're sound asleep," Cuddy reported. "They were a little uneasy a few times today, but the phone calls helped."

He took another few painful steps and turned to face Thornton. No wonder the old man looked so tired, he thought. He had not only been flying around the Midwest last night; he had been out vandalizing the cemetery the night before that. House still was amazed at the time and attention that went into that job - and that there had been no effort at all to claim them. Just now, though, he was too tired even for thinking, and Thornton looked dead on - or off - his feet, too. "We all need to get to bed," he said.

Thomas stood, managing to hide his flinch from Lisa as he put weight on his foot. "Good idea. It's been a long day, and you . . ." His son tensed up, and he abandoned that description halfway, remembering that an analysis, even if accurate, wouldn't be welcome. "Good night, Greg. Good night, everybody. I enjoyed today." He took a few steps, then was unable to resist fishing just a little. "What time is breakfast tomorrow?"

House stiffened up a little but said nothing. Cuddy considered. "8:30," she said. Let them all sleep in a little, and her husband needed some extra meds tonight.

"I'll see you all then." He walked within two feet of his son on the way out, forcing himself not to touch his arm as he passed.

"Good night, Thomas," Cuddy called. "Get some rest."

He turned to smile at her just before leaving. "I will."

As soon as he was gone, Jensen spoke up. "We need to get to bed, too, James."

Wilson was already heading for the door. "I know. Night, everybody. See you in the morning."

Once they had left, House limped to the girls' room. Cuddy, trailing him, sorted out the body language. His stride wasn't merely tired; he looked like he had strained his leg at some point today. It was obviously giving him hell. He opened the door and just stood there a minute, looking at his daughters, and she came up beside him and took his left arm. "No point in disturbing them right now," she whispered after a moment. "If we wake them up, we'll be another hour or so getting them back to bed." Exhaustion warred briefly with stubbornness, and then she felt his arm relax a little under her fingers. He turned away toward their own room, and Cuddy's eyes met Marina's with a look of mutual relief. "Good night, Marina,"

"Good night." the nanny replied. "Sleep well."

Once in their bedroom, House sagged even further. He limped painfully to the bathroom, and Cuddy picked up his sleep clothes and then took them to him. "You want a hot soak tonight?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I'd fall asleep in it." A pause, and then he surprised her by raising the point before she did. "But I need more than the Vicodin tonight. Not too much, but some."

Gratefully, she retrieved the meds bag. He had finished everything else and more or less collapsed into bed by the time she had the shot prepared. "Here it is, Greg," she said, but he didn't open his eyes again to check the dosage, trusting her.

"Okay." He sighed. "How was today?"

She gave him the shot, then reached down gently to explore his leg. No spasms at the moment; it was simply hurting. "It went well. Thomas is really good with the girls." She started massaging his leg anyway, knowing that her touch usually helped him.

He sighed again. "Too much today," he muttered. "I'll tell you about it sometime."

"Whenever you're ready to. I'll wait." She kissed him, grateful that the tension was less. She could sense that even through his tiredness. "Just get some rest now. Good night, Greg."

"Night."

She stayed there at his side massaging his leg until long after he was down for the count. Finally, she prepared for bed herself, then climbed in next to him, snuggling up, reassuring herself in his even, deep breathing. It was going to be all right. Closing her eyes, she released a few of her own worries, postponed the others, and tonight, she slept.

(H/C)

Once in their room, Wilson gathered clothes while Jensen went through the bathroom. As the psychiatrist emerged, he said, "I'm going to go ahead and take a shower tonight. Good chance for you to call home privately if you want to. I already talked to Sandra - twice today, actually. Rachel wanted an update this morning on Belle."

Jensen had already turned down the bed. "Thanks, but not tonight. I called Melissa and Cathy a few hours ago after we ate." He climbed in without his usual fluid grace of movement, and Wilson suddenly noticed how worn out Jensen himself looked, far more now than he had earlier in front of House.

"Are you all right?" the oncologist asked.

"Fine, James. I'm just tired."

"You two sure were gone long enough. I know you're not going to tell me everything you talked about, but did it help?" Wilson thought House looked better, even if hurting badly, but he wanted insider confirmation.

To his surprise, Jensen did give him that much. "Yes, it helped." The psychiatrist had his eyes closed already, but a few seconds later, he added, "He was very aware of you and Dr. Cuddy staying back with the girls today to monitor things. That was a worthwhile role."

"Glad it helped him to know we were there, but I wasn't doing much. Thornton isn't going to hurt them." Wilson paused on his way to the bathroom. "He's a neat old guy. Really interesting, and he surprised me several times today. I wouldn't mind getting to know him myself. Not just trying to fish out information, I mean, but getting to know him as a person, just for me, not because he's House's father. Do you think House would object too much to that? Jensen?"

Jensen was already asleep.

(H/C)

Down in his own room, Thomas changed into pajamas, then climbed into bed, sorting through the memories of the day. The girls. Lisa. Greg. He hoped some progress had been made today. Going home tomorrow afternoon still loomed, but they had a few hours left, and he planned to mine them for all they were worth. Tonight, though, he had to get some rest. He knew he was at the end of his rope physically, that those two nights back to back had been too much. He wasn't 30 anymore. Still, a smile crossed his lips as he remembered correcting the tombstone. Better late than never. He settled into the pillow with a sigh and, for the first time in two days, totally let go for the moment. "Good night, Em-"