The rest of the day passed all too quickly: a few hours in the music room, an hour in the kitchen making dinner for the crew on their way home, and hour in the dining room eating it together, a half hour of clean up, and then everyone in the pool except Colleen who was content to read in a lounge chair while she minded the baby.

Everyone was exhausted, and everyone went to bed early. House went to Kelly's bed and while she lay awake reading fell asleep, his head on her shoulder. So peaceful. So relaxed.

So short-lived. The voice that called him quietly from sleep was not Kelly's but her mother's. "Dr. House? I'm sorry to disturb you, but would you come and take a look at Philip? He's not feeling well."

Two things immediately registered before he had even shook away the fog of his slumber. The first was that she sounded extremely concerned. The second was that she'd just found him in bed with her daughter. He wasn't sure which worried him more.

Without waking Kelly (and thankful that his attire was completely modest for once, having worn pajama pants and a tee-shirt to bed), he retrieved his cane and followed her wordlessly upstairs, listening to her list her husband's symptoms.

"He's blaming indigestion and muscle strain from swimming, but..."

They found Philip in the kitchen, looking through a drawer. "Honey, where are the Rolaids?" When he saw House he gave his wife a disapproving look. "I appreciate everyone's concern, but really, I'm fine." Yet even as he said it, his hand went to his chest and he grimaced.

"You'd better let me take a look." And when Philip didn't protest, House knew what he had to do. "Colleen" -- he addressed her by her first name without thinking -- "how far is the hospital from here?"

"15 or 20 minutes."

He sat Philip on the couch and was taking his pulse. The older man had started to sweat. "You'd better call 911 and have them send an ambulance." He saw the panic in her face. "Just as a precaution. And get some Aspirin if you have any."

She was off the phone and crushing up the Aspirin as instructed when Philip passed out and House lowered him to the floor. When he checked for breath sounds and found none, he began CPR. Colleen was sobbing but House didn't spare the time to reassure her. 15 compressions. Two rescue breaths. 15 compressions. Two rescue breaths. Check for pulse. Continue compressions.

By the time the EMT's arrived, House was spent and his arms were shaking from the strain and emotional stress. But the man was also breathing again. Shallowly, but breathing.

Colleen was to travel in the ambulance, and she gave House the instruction to let Randy and Sarah Beth sleep, but to wake Kelly and have her call her brother.

House dressed first, and back in Kelly's room used the light shining in from the den to go through her drawers and find clothes for her as well. Then he ran out of excuses to put it off.

She didn't cry, and she wouldn't let him hold her. Instead she sprang into action, half-dressed and dialing the phone, sending him to write a note for the kids upstairs and to start the car. And on the way to the hospital she didn't say a word except to tell him where to turn.

Only when she entered the ER exam room and saw her father was conscious did she relax enough to cry, going first to her mother's arms and then to House's, where she stayed as the doctors worked. House provided commentary for the women, translating the medical language flying around the room, doing all the talking when Philip was stabilized and the attending doctor approached them.

"It was lucky that you were there, Dr. House. If you hadn't started CPR right away... Anyway, we're going to try to avoid surgery by doing an angio and inserting a stent..."

Philip was wheeled past them then on the way to radiology. He reached out for Colleen's hand and pulled her along with him, leaving House and Kelly alone.

"You did CPR?" That was the first Kelly had heard of it.

House just shrugged.

"You saved his life."

"You know CPR; you would have helped him."

Kelly ignored him. "You saved my dad's life," she repeated, tears returning to her eyes. "Thank you, Greg."

He shrugged again, allowing himself to be thoroughly kissed.

Andrew, the eldest child, arrived during the procedure, having chartered a plane from LA to the small airport nearby. House was the first to see him; he recognized him from pictures. He said nothing, however, and Andrew would have walked right on by if he hadn't seen Kelly sleeping across the stranger's lap.

"You're Dr. House."

"Andrew," House greeted, his face betraying surprise that he was known to this man. He looked more like Kelly in person than in photos.

"I've been following your adventures on my sister's Facebook," Andrew explained, extending a hand and enveloping House's in a firm shake. "What's my father's status? Where's my mother?"

House answered all of his questions while Kelly slept on, not stirring until her mother returned. There was more crying and embracing, then more pacing and dozing and praying and bad coffee and waiting. Until the doctor returned and the prognosis was delivered.

"He came through the procedure just fine and it seems to have corrected the blockage. We expect a full recovery, and at this point he won't need surgery."

"Thank God," House heard in stereo, and he found himself heaving a great sigh of relief. And gratitude.