Time to meet little Gregory and to answer the big question: where the hell was Cuddy in that damned last episode of season 8? My own version obviously. I don't own House Md. If I did the series wouldn't have had that sh***y ending.

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Chapter 2 - Gregory

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... Lisa?

...Honey, what's wrong?

Arlene looked at her daughter. Her hand was shaking and she was so pale she looked like she was passing out.

Actually... because she was.

"Oh God, you need to sit down" she said as the phone fell from Cuddy's hand, bouncing on the floor and then opening in two parts as the battery rolled under the coffee table.

She almost didn't feel her mother hand on her arm as she leaded her to the couch, making her sitting down. She closed her eyes, trying to stabilize her labored breathing.

"Lisa?" She tried again, looking with a worried look at the hand on her stomach "Who was it?"

She didn't open her eyes, just whispering a labored 'House'.

"I swear to God I'll sent him to jail again if he just tries to come near you or the kids" She hissed, sitting down next to her daughter, that didn't reply.

"Lisa, you have to calm down" She said again, putting in turn a hand on her stomach and looking at her as she grimaced in pain and put her free hand on her forehead as her belly hardened.

"Please... tell me it's not true" she whispered, still with closed eyes "Oh my God, Mom... it can't be true..."

She couldn't breathe. She felt like she had a boulder on her chest.

Arlene watched her with an even more worried look.

"What can't be true?" She asked.

"He... he's dead" she whispered "My baby's father is dead"

Two years had passed since that day.

Her life had ended in that moment. And started again in that same day. Because death changes everything! And a part of her was dead with him in that same day. She had tried to convince herself that she didn't love him anymore, but the more she tried the more she became aware that wasn't true. She would always be bound to him. What he did, crashing his car against her living room, was something so strong she couldn't act like anything had happened, she had to protect herself and Rachel, but the truth was that she didn't blame him as she pretended she did. It was his fault, but hers too. She hadn't helped him as she had to. She knew he was an addict. She knew she couldn't blame him for that and for his weakness in front of that. She knew she had to blame herself as much she blamed him. Because if love is supporting each other and trusting in each other...well, in that she had failed.

But the destiny had played unfair with her.

She opened the drawer and sat down on her bed, turning that letter in her hands. It was for him, but he had never read it. The mailman had put it back in her postbox a few days after that phone call. An 'Addressee not found. Returned to the sender' stamped on it.

He never knew. He never knew of the life growing inside her. She had spent so much nights awake thinking about what to do. About how telling him the truth. She was so determined to hide that to him in the beginning! But then the months had gone by... and every kick of the baby inside her womb was a reminder of him. Moving in Massachusetts hadn't been enough. Those almost 300 miles weren't enough and she knew that not even 3 thousands of them would have been enough. She had tried to move on... changing her job and life but it hadn't worked. Not at all. And every thyroid storm she saw as Head of Endocrinology reminded her of him, knocking at her door in the middle of the night pretending to need a consult. That's why in the end she had decided about that letter.

She opened the envelope and looked at those sheets biting her lip and looking up at the ceiling as her eyes misted. She couldn't help it. She missed him. In such a way that sorrow turned almost in physical pain. She looked down again at that letter in which here and there the ink had faded because of her tears fallen on it so many times in those two years.

She could barely read it because of her clouded sight but she knew it by heart.

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House,

If you're reading this it means you didn't throw it in the trash as soon as you read the sender on the envelope, so it's already a step forward.

I'd like to say that I don't know why I'm doing this but the truth is that I know it. I tried. God knows how much I tried to forget you. But I failed. And I miss you. I miss your eyes, I miss the way you used to tease me and to make fun of me, I miss everything. I miss you being you. And not how I thought I would have liked you to be... just... you being you.

I tried. I tried so hard... but I can't hate you. I just... can't. I failed in loving you and I failed in hating you.

So... God, House, what's wrong with me? What's wrong with us? You hurt me in all the ways someone could hurt me... and I still love you. And I can't help but ask to myself: "Did he really love me?"

I thought you did. I really thought you did. I want to trust you did! So...I just keep asking myself: "Why?" I thought about that so many times. I know you didn't want to kill me. I thought that at first. That's why you went to jail and I moved away, far from my job, my friends, my life. Far from you. It didn't work. You haunt me. Every night since that day. But you know what? You killed me. On that day you really did it. And sometimes I feel like what's left is just the ghost of myself. Now I know what being you is. I know what being miserable is. I pretend to be happy but I can't even remember what happiness is... and I wonder if I'll never be happy again.

Sorry. Pity isn't what I want from you. Nor making you even more miserable. Nor making you feel guiltier than how I know you already feel.

Well, now I can almost hear your teasing voice asking me "So? What do you want from me, Cuddy?"

I'd like it were easy to answer that question. Actually it is. For me it is. But... things are never easy between us, aren't them?.

I know that maybe I'm making a fool of myself, but I can't help but think... "Does he still love me like I do?" ...because, well... I know that I hurt you as much as you hurt me... so... I'm not blaming you if you don't... if you moved on...

I know from Wilson that you still live in your apartment and well, you know him, he obviously felt the need to tell me even that Dominika is gone. I know about your new team at PPTH. About your new boss. Well, I think I know too much for someone who pretends she doesn't care.

I'm sorry, House! I know you'd say that's because of my Jewish guilty... but I'm sorry. I really am. I'm sorry because I wasn't there for you. I'm sorry we didn't talk. I'm sorry I didn't tell you what I felt and I didn't let you tell me what you felt. Your "Wanna know how I feel, Cuddy?" still spins in my mind together with your "I feel hurt". And yes, I feel guilty. Because that was the exact moment in which we could have changed things. I'll never forgive myself for letting you go away after that. Nor even after you gave me back that damned brush.

I know what are you thinking right now, and... no. You didn't deserve jail, House! And even more... jail wasn't what you needed. You needed me. And if I loved you just a quarter of how much I know I love you I had to be there. For you.

Why is it so easy writing this right now? Why on the other side is it so hard saying it out loud?

I'm trying House. I'm trying not to do the same mistakes again.

So, well... there's not an easy way to say what I have to say. I just want you to know that I'm not asking anything. I'm not forcing you into anything. And... you know me well enough to know that I'm not here, writing this, just because of it. I just think you deserve to know. To know that in a few weeks a baby boy will look at the world for the first time.

Our baby, House. Ours.

So, well... I lied. I lied when I said I'm not here because of him. Because... each one of his kicks reminds me of you. So... I just can't. I can't hide this from you. I'm not asking you to be his dad. But you are his father anyway. He'll ask about you. One day he'll ask about you. What do I have to say him, House? What do you want me to say him?

Again, I'm not asking you anything. I don't want to force you in something bigger than you but... well, all I want you to know is that I'm not going to keep him away from you.

I don't know what I'll tell him when he grow up. I just know I'm not going to lie to him. Is it that bad if I tell him he came from his parents' love? Because... he did, House.

I was thinking about sending you a picture from my last ultrasound but, you know, suddenly your voice rang in my head with a "It's just a fetus. How can you be so emotional, Cuddy!" so I decided it was a bad idea.

If you want, well, you now know where to find me. Well, us. My address is on the envelope. I work at the Massachusetts General Hospital. Don't look for the Dean of Medicine because, well, I'm not a Dean anymore. Back to be a real doctor. Who would have thought it?! So... Endocrinology. Where everything began.

Well... I think it's better for me to say goodbye now. My back hurts like hell so I'm totally in your shoes right now. Miserable and in pain.

And in love with you.

Cuddy

xxx

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She looked at her own signature scribbled on the sheet. And then again at that 'and in love with you' and she can't avoid another tear from falling on the y of her name turning it in a grey spot.

"No cwy Mommy..."

She closed her eyes, wiping the tears from her cheeks and inhaling and then exhaling deeply trying to regain control of herself, before looking at him, smiling slightly at the little boy in his light blue pajamas.

"It's ok, sweetheart" she said in a soft tone, as he climbed up the bed and then curled up in her arms "I'm not crying"

He put his little arms around her neck and she buried her nose in his soft dark hair, inhaling his scent. He smelled so good.

"What's wrong, my baby boy?" She asked as her finger drew circles around the little green dinosaurs of his pajamas.

"Me want sleep in youw big bed" He said clinging even more to her.

"What's wrong with your bed?" She asked, even if she could already foresee his answer.

"You no thewe" He answered as she couldn't help but smile, holding him tightly.

"So... are you going to leave Rachel there all alone?" She asked teasing him but moving the sheet by side, making room for him.

"Wachel big. Gwegowy little" He said resting his head on her pillow and curling up under the sheets as she smiled and kissed his hair, laying down near him and holding him close.

"Yes... " she smiled again at the thought of how many R were in those line and in his name, and how difficult was for him to be able to pronounce it "Sweet dreams my sweet little boy" She whispered on his hair, caressing his arm and savoring the warm spreading from his tiny body.

Gregory.

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She hadn't decide a name for her baby yet. She was probably going to name him James, after her own father, but she hadn't decided yet, despite her mother's push. She knew that she had to figure it out in those few left weeks but she thought she still had time.

"Oh my God, Mom... it can't be true..."

"Lisa, Honey, you have to calm down" She said again, putting in turn a hand on her stomach and looking at her as she grimaced in pain and put her free hand on her forehead as her belly hardened.

"I have to go there, Mom" she said after a few moments, standing up and ignoring her mother "I have to see him"

"See him?" She looked at her "He's dead, Lisa. There's nothing you can say or make anymore. I know how you feel right now but I can't let you drive for hours just for..."

She took her arm and Cuddy glared at her.

"You can't even imagine how I feel right now, Mom" She replied holding her gaze.

"Yeah! But I can't let you drive like this! Look at you, Lisa!" She said pointing to the mirror in front of her "You already had contractions. Your breathing is shallow. Do you want to give birth to my grandson on the highway?"

She looked at her daughter as she closed her eyes and held her breath, holding her belly with one hand.

"Honey, you're shocked right now. You're right... I-I can't even imagine what's going through your mind now... but, please... you already lost him. You can't risk to lose his baby too"

What came after was clouded... sort of wrapped in the fog...

She remembered pain. So much pain. But that kind of pain was nothing compared to the grief. Pain and grief so tied together that death would have been a liberation. She would have welcomed Her as a comforting Sister.

On that day she was dead. And then, on that same day, back to life. Tears rolling down her cheeks as she looked at the baby in her arms. At their baby. His little fist wrapped around her finger and his blue eyes staring at her.

Gregory.

She knew she was going to live for him. To be happy for him. To be there for helping him to be the man of whom his father would be proud too. And to be there for telling him, again and again and again, how his father was the most incredible man she has ever known.

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Author's note:

A few of you told me the timing here is not in accord with the events of the original series. It's true. I warned you in the beginning of the fanfic, before chapter 1, but I probably wasn't that clear. This fanfic is set after season 8 finale, but here 'Everybody dies' takes place just a few months after 'Bombshells' . I chose to have the same events of the original series (House and Cuddy's break-up, his marriage with Dominika and all the s*** that came after, including Wilson's cancer) but with a shorter timing. I'm one of those people who didn't watch s8... so it's easier for me not to consider it. Practically, here all the events of season 8 happen in just one month (and 'Everybody dies" is practically 9 months after 'Bombshells'). So, she was a few weeks pregnant when he drove his car against her house, then he left the Country for more or less 1 month, he spent 6 months in jail and 1 again at PPTH... and she wasn't at the funeral because she was nine month pregnant and in labour.

Now... Gregory here is almost 2 and a half years old. The question is "Where is House?", "Where was he in these 2 and a half years?"

You'll know it very soon! ;)

Bye