Author's note : I'm running out of ideas on how to continue this story, pls give me suggestions cuz this is story is special to me, and I want it to be at least 10 chapters long, this chapter might seem a little out of place compared to the rest, but as I said earlier 'MY CREATIVE JUICES ARE RUNNING OUT', so I request the kind souls out there to help me out.

It had started as a normal day at PPTH.

Stacy had stopped by to meet Cuddy for lunch, Greg was avoiding clinic duty, and Billy—who had become somewhat of a mascot for the hospital—was happily running around the diagnostics department under Cameron's watch while his parents were busy.

It wasn't unusual. Billy loved PPTH, and everyone there knew him. He had a habit of wandering into exam rooms and leaving scribbles on House's whiteboard, much to Foreman's frustration.

But today was different.

Today, Billy went missing.

"Where's Billy?" Cameron asked, her voice sharp with concern.

Greg, sitting at the conference table tossing a stress ball into the air, barely glanced up. "He was just here."

"He was," Cameron repeated. "And now he's not."

Greg caught the ball mid-air, his smirk flickering. "So, you lost him?"

Cameron exhaled sharply. "He's three, House. He was right next to me, and then I looked down at the file, and—"

Greg was already out of his chair, his cane hitting the floor harder than usual as he moved toward the door.

"Relax," he said over his shoulder. "He's a tiny human, not a magician."

But his grip on the cane was white-knuckled.

Stacy arrived at the diagnostics room two minutes later, her heart already racing.

"Where is he?" she asked immediately, scanning the room.

Cameron's guilty expression said everything.

"We're looking," Greg said, not stopping as he moved toward the hallway.

Stacy hurried after him. "Greg, where did you check?"

"Nowhere yet," he said, his voice cool. Too cool. "I figured I'd just sit around and wait for him to walk back in."

"Greg," she snapped, grabbing his arm. "This isn't funny."

Greg turned to face her, and for a second—just a fraction of a second—Stacy caught it. The thing Greg House never let anyone see. Fear.

But then it was gone, buried under sarcasm and control.

"I'll check the clinic," he said, pulling away. "You go toward Cuddy's office."

Stacy nodded, already heading down the hall.

The hospital was a machine in motion, doctors and nurses moving in calculated chaos, voices overlapping with ringing phones and beeping monitors. But all Stacy could hear was the rapid pounding of her own heartbeat.

"Billy?" she called, pushing open an exam room door.

An elderly patient blinked at her, confused. No Billy.

She moved to the next hallway. "Billy!"

Nothing.

She could feel panic rising in her chest, but she forced it down. Billy was here. He had to be.

A sharp voice broke through her thoughts.

"What's going on?"

Cuddy.

Stacy spun around to see her standing at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, concern etched in her features.

"Billy's missing," Stacy said, breathless.

Cuddy's face changed instantly.

"I'll page security," she said, already moving toward the nearest phone.

Meanwhile, Greg stormed through the clinic like a force of nature, checking rooms with a precision that almost made the nurses nervous.

"Dr. House, what—"

"Small kid, messy hair, looks like an angel but has my bad attitude," Greg interrupted. "Seen him?"

The nurse shook her head.

Greg muttered something under his breath and turned away, his mind spinning through possibilities.

Billy loved the vending machines. He loved Cuddy's office. He sometimes wandered near the nurses' station because they gave him lollipops.

But if he wasn't in those places, where the hell was he?

"Billy!" Greg called, his voice sharp now. He wasn't joking anymore.

No answer.

Wilson found them in the hallway ten minutes later, his tie slightly loosened, concern evident in his usually calm expression.

"Cuddy told me," he said. "Nothing yet?"

Stacy shook her head, swallowing against the panic tightening her throat.

Greg exhaled sharply, turning toward Wilson. "I thought you were the good uncle. You're supposed to be useful in situations like this."

Wilson ignored him. "We should check the east wing."

"I already did," Stacy said.

Greg's jaw clenched. "Then we check again."

It was Cuddy's voice over the hospital intercom that finally brought them relief.

"Paging Dr. House and Stacy Barrett. Report to the fourth-floor break room."

The break room?

Greg and Stacy didn't wait for an elevator. They took the stairs, two at a time. House had to stop a few times, because of his bum leg.

When they burst through the door, they found Billy sitting happily at a table, munching on a sugar cookie the size of his face.

Next to him was a nurse, a younger woman with a kind expression.

"He's fine," she said quickly, seeing the sheer panic in Stacy's eyes. "He wandered in here looking for 'the car room.'"

"The... what?" Greg asked, out of breath.

"The parking garage," the nurse said, smiling slightly. "He said Daddy let him honk the horn once, and he wanted to find the car so he could do it again."

Greg stared at his son, his expression unreadable.

Billy looked up, grinning. "Mommy, Daddy! Look! I got a Cookie!"

Stacy went rushing forward, gathering him into her arms.

"Don't you ever do that again," she whispered into his hair, holding him so tight he squirmed.

"Okay, Mommy," he mumbled against her shoulder.

Greg ran a hand down his face, exhaling as his heartbeat finally slowed to something normal.

Wilson let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head. "Of course. He wasn't lost. He was on a mission."

Greg, finally regaining his voice, pointed his cane at Billy. "You. Boy. Never do that again."

Billy blinked at him. "But—"

"No buts," Greg said firmly. "New rule. You don't go anywhere without telling an adult. Got it?"

Billy nodded solemnly, still clutching his cookie.

Cuddy stepped into the room, arms crossed. "So, let me get this straight—your son wandered through my hospital, alone, in search of a car horn?"

Greg smirked, finally back to himself. "What can I say? Kid's got ambition."

Cuddy sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "House, you are both banned from the break room."

Later that night, back at home, Billy was fast asleep, curled into his blankets as if the entire hospital-wide panic had never happened.

Greg and Stacy, however, weren't as lucky.

Stacy sat on the edge of the couch, running a hand through her hair. "I don't think I've ever been that scared in my life."

Greg, sitting beside her, was silent for a long moment. Then he let out a breath, rubbing his jaw. "Yeah."

Stacy looked at him, surprised by the lack of sarcasm. "You okay?"

Greg tilted his head. "Not really."

She reached out, lacing her fingers through his. "He's safe."

Greg nodded, then smirked slightly. "We should put a leash on him."

Stacy laughed, shaking her head. "I love you, you know."

Greg squeezed her hand. "Yeah, yeah."

END.

[Oh god the more I read this, the more out of the blue it feels, I don't think imma even try writing another chapter without a good script]