Author's Note: I truly have no idea what to say right now. I've come up with at least six different explanations as to why this happened, but I don't entirely believe any of them.

I do know, though, that (barring your general disgust with my existence) this won't be the last one of these.

Chapter 13: Perception Change

It was all Wilson's damn fault.

Mini-Wilson, whom they'd finally decided to name Joshua, was born without a hitch according to the text that the new father had sent them both. Cameron, naturally, had immediately called with congratulations, with House contributing the occasional sarcastic comment when he felt her half of the conversation called for it.

It was after that, though, that the trouble really started. House's previous experience with new parents had normally ended about the same time he could successfully shove them out of the hospital, and they'd been far more likely to scream at him for being heartless than try to accost him with any baby pictures.

With Wilson, though, there were endless baby pictures in which the child's expression changed by only microscopic degrees, and a report of every single twitch the child made that was far more detailed than anything he'd ever need for a diagnosis. It was undoubtedly karmic punishment for every miserable torture he had ever put Wilson through over the years, and it was only the sense that Wilson was enjoying some of House's pain that forced him to restrain the bulk of his sarcasm out of sheer obstinacy.

When he found himself actually looking at the baby hats in the hospital's gift shop, however, imagining how they'd look on a child with Cameron's hair color, he realized that he was in far more trouble than he'd realized.

000

House's eyes narrowed as he caught sight of Wilson's back hurrying down the hallway, though frustration was better than adrenaline at helping the human body play catch up. "I'm onto your evil plot," he snapped, jabbing Wilson in the side with his free hand. "Though I'm intellectually obligated to commend you on your brilliance, stop now before I hurt you."

Wilson kept walking, but he lifted his eyebrows. "Out of curiosity, what bit of brilliance of mine are we talking about here?" The last word broke off in a yawn, but it wasn't enough to keep the grin off his face. For a man that was clearly getting no more sleep than he had as a resident, fatherhood had made the man way the hell too cheerful. "There's so many of them that it's hard for me to figure out exactly which one you mean."

House scowled. "Don't try to pretend you don't know." There was genuine confusion in Wilson's eyes, however, so he gave an exasperated sigh. "The minute-by-minute updates on mini-Wilson. No more."

Wilson, the bastard, laughed. "Not a chance, House. It's the first reasonable ammunition I've had against you in years, and I'm going to make the most of every adorable, crying, sleep-stealing minute of it." His expression softened helplessly with each word, and the love in his voice was obvious to anyone paying the slightest bit of attention. "Which, if all goes well, should be until both of us die in old age."

House felt a terrible twinge in his own chest, and no matter how hard he'd tried to stay in denial he'd known the damn diagnosis since before Mini-Wilson had even been born. "So you're going to punish all of reality out of sheer vindictiveness? Fine." His grip tightened on his cane. "Any therapy bills or bail money will be paid by you."

Suddenly, Wilson stopped completely, staring at House with a confused expression. "Do you know that nothing you just said makes the slightest bit of sense?"

House glared at him. "You're secret indoctrination into the cult of fatherhood." Wilson's eyes widened with something close to shock, which only made House more annoyed. "Anyone with half a brain in their head would realize that I should never reproduce, but do you care about what my kid would do to the world your kid is going to have to grow up in? No. Which is why you're going to have to pay the therapy and bail money for both our children."

Wilson just stared at him for what felt like an eternity, then burst out laughing. Even a sharp rap from House's cane against his shins didn't slow him down in the slightest. "Keep this up, and I'm going to have you declared a mental patient," House snapped, narrowing his eyes at a gawking nurse until she fled for her life. "I'm sure Julie and Mini-Wilson would thank me for it in the long run."

When Wilson had finally calmed down enough to speak, he put a hand on House's shoulder. "As someone not nearly as wise as he thinks he is once said to me, the real question here is whether or not you want to make it work," Wilson said gently, his expression utterly sympathetic. "You do have hidden depths, House, whether or not you want to admit to them. I have no doubt that fatherhood would bring them out in you."

House met his gaze for a long moment, then looked away. "You're also delusional enough to have stayed friends with me all this time," he said shortly, hope and panic sitting like a ton of bricks on his chest. Vicoden, unfortunately, couldn't do a damn thing about either one. "It's probably not a good idea to trust your diagnosis."

Wilson's expression turned wry as he gave House a final pat and continued on down the hallway. "Then maybe you should try getting one from Cameron."

000

Cameron couldn't help but smile as she watched House walk up to her table outside the hospital, a dark expression on his face as if the sunlight and greenery offended him on some deep and personal level. "You look terrible," she said warmly, moving aside the stack of patient folders she'd been reading through as he sat down. "Is there a disease somewhere refusing to bend to your will?"

"Nothing's even tried, damn it. No one's come in with an even vaguely interesting illness for days now." He narrowed his eyes at the carrot sticks in front of her, clearly looking for a temporary distraction from the real reason he'd come to find her. "I will never understand what you see in those things."

Cameron cocked her head slightly, studying him. Whatever had been bothering him before Joshua was born had come back stronger than ever about a week ago, and though she'd been as patient as always it was clear she was going to have to pry it out of him. "Your mother said that I should just start yelling at you when you won't tell me what you're thinking."

He raised an eyebrow at that. "Clearly, I didn't inherit my keen insight from her."

"I told her no much more gently, which is probably why she regularly decides to call me rather than you." Still, her voice was affectionate as she lifted her paper coffee cup to take a drink. "Talk to me, House. You know how much I hate yelling."

He looked away for a moment, eyes escaping to brood in the distance, then turned back to her with a sigh. "I also know how much you want kids."

Cameron froze, and for a second all she could think was that it was a very good thing she'd finished swallowing. It was only when House reached out and gently grabbed her wrist that she realized she was crushing the paper coffee cup. Slowly, he peeled her fingers away and took it out of her hand, setting it down on the opposite end of the table. "Don't look so surprised," he said quietly. "If you'll remember, I was harassing you about this long before you knew you were going to be stuck with me."

Hearing something odd in House's voice, she forced herself to start breathing again. "I'm not surprised you knew," she said finally, oddly afraid of where this was heading. She'd given up on her dream of being a mother a long time ago, and had assumed going in that House wouldn't want kids. She was happy in so many other ways that it hadn't mattered, but talking about it now felt like ripping open stitches that had almost completely healed. "What I don't understand is why we're talking about this."

Now it was House's turn to watch her, and Cameron's throat caught when she realized that it was sadness she could see in his eyes. "So you just gave that up when we got together?"

She reached across the table and took his hand. "I'd let it go long before then," she said softly. "Besides, with my work hours I'd probably be a terrible mother."

House's eyes narrowed. "Don't give me that," he said shortly, tightening his hold on her hand. "You'd be an even better mother than you are a doctor. Watching you do both would send women all over the city into spasms of inadequacy."

Cameron's eyes widened slightly, stunned at the fierceness of the unexpected compliment. "Thank you?"

The words did absolutely nothing to improve House's mood. "You know as well as I do that I'm the weak link in this particular equation. I've already started making you more sarcastic and antisocial, and you practically have a force field of goodness around you. Allowing me to have any influence over an actual child would probably constitute as some kind of abuse according to the state."

For a moment all Cameron could do was stare at him, her eyes getting bigger with each word. When he locked gazes with her, challenge in his eyes, she suddenly understood what was going on. "You're trying to get me to reassure you that's not true." It was impossible to keep the astonishment out of her voice, but an instant later it vanished under a new worry. "If this is some kind of competition you're having with Wilson ..."

House closed his eyes, dropping his forehead to rest against their joined hands. "Suspicious. Did I mention that I've made you more suspicious?"

Cameron just shook her head, utterly confused. "House, please just tell me what's going on."

He didn't lift his head, and the silence seemed to stretch on for a small eternity before she heard his muffled voice. "I want your babies."

Her heart stopped. "What?"

He lifted his head, letting go of her hands just long enough to scrub his hands across his face. Conveniently, it also meant that he didn't have to meet her eyes just yet. "It's an egotistical request from any man, since the extent of our efforts in the creation process is a well-timed addition of sperm. Most probably-"

"House!"

He slowly lowered his hands, and she knew that it was the way her voice had cracked that had done it. "I want to get ridiculously obsessed about a baby that has your too-cheerful-for-this-Earth DNA swimming through it," he said softly, finally meeting her eyes. "I want there to be a part of me and a part of you so mixed up together that nothing could break it apart." He huffed out a laugh, looking down at their hands again. "Though for the kid's sake, I hope it's mostly you."

Cameron was reduced to simply staring at him again, completely robbed of any capacity for speech. Then, quite reasonably, she burst into tears.

House's head immediately shot up, and he swore as he grabbed her hand again. "Dammit, crying should have been outlawed by the Geneva Convention," he muttered, holding tight. "I need a translation, Cameron."

Cameron wiped her eyes, smothering a laugh. And people wondered why she loved this man so much. "You dope. I want your babies, too."

With a sigh of relief, he dropped his forehead back onto their joined hands. "Have I mentioned that I love how insane you are?"

"Once or twice." She glanced around, realizing that everyone was trying very hard to pretend that they hadn't just been staring at them. "We're drawing some attention."

He lifted his head just far enough to press a kiss against her knuckles. "It'll be interesting to see what the rumors turn out like."