Two weeks after House had checked himself into a rehab clinic, Cuddy and Wilson were lying in bed late one Saturday night. She was not one to twirl her curly, black hair with her fingers, but she did now as she bit her lip. "Jimmy, I have something I need to tell you," she told him with trepidation.
He squinted in the darkness. "What is it?" Wilson asked, pulling her closer to him.
"I'm pregnant," Cuddy replied in a whisper.
"What! Lisa, that's great!" he exclaimed. Wilson's heart thumped joyously as he lifted himself up to kiss her. Noticing that her lips were trembling, he froze. "Lisa?" When all he could hear where her gentle sobs, dread washed over him as it never had before. "It might not be mine?" he asked, his mind painfully remembering that day he had seen Van Reynolds with Lisa.
Cuddy lifted her hands to his neck. "Jimmy, I'm sorry. I'll get the test," she reasoned.
Shaking his head, Wilson got off the bed. "I need to be alone for a while," he answered in his ever silent tone.
The next morning, Chase and Micah were sitting on the floor of his apartment, barefoot, eating Captain Crunch and playing chess. "You are never going to beat me, my fine man," she challenged with a sexy smile. "I was taught by the best."
Long bangs brushed over Chase's forehead as he asked, "Oh, yeah? And who was that?"
"Sister Ellen in fifth grade," Micah said, her eyes sparkling with imminent victory. "I won a lot of rosary beads and lunch money that year."
Chase tried to hide his surprise. She had never told him that she had attended a Catholic school. "I hate nuns."
Micah giggled. "Who doesn't?" she asked, not realizing that she had echoed her father's sentiment.
The statement made Chase think of him now. "How's House doing?"
Her face became more solemn as she said, "Last time Allison called, she told me that he was going through some detox pretty badly. But his broken arm is healing nicely and he should be clean in a month."
Chase looked into her deep blue eyes. "And what about you? How are you doing?"
She made a sideways smile. "I'm leaving," she replied. Micah tried not to enjoy Chase's look of despair for too long. "I'm leaving New York," she added. "After this semester, I'm going to transfer down here. Once pre-med is through, I thought I might go to Princeton Plainsborough Teaching Hospital. How does that sound?"
Micah knew that it was the right choice. She loved Greg, but that wasn't the main reason for the move. The young woman loved Robert Chase even more, and after her father's accident she realized there was no where else she wanted to be than with Chase. Life was too fragile not to cherish.
Chase beamed a silly grin as he leaped over the chess board, scattering the pieces. They fell over onto their backs together but never broke hold of each other. He loved Micah so much that he never wanted to let her go.
Laughing, she threw her hands up in reference to the now wrecked board game. "You cheated!"
That next week, Foreman was changing the sheets for Emily. "Do you want to get a bite to eat before you go see Cameron?" he hollered in the direction of the living room.
"As long as you're buying," she joked back. Emily Cameron felt so comfortable in his apartment. She felt comfortable with him. But she saw him as nothing more than a caring friend.
After Foreman finished his duty, he headed towards her. "You know, it's been three weeks. Maybe you should find a place of your own." The neurologist did not really want her to go, but he knew that if she did not find permanent ground soon, she would leave. They were just friends now, but he hoped that someday that would change.
Emily rolled her eyes as she sipped the last of her beer. "You know my job takes me everywhere," she countered.
His eyebrow shot up. "If you really wanted to be out exploring, you would have left by now," Foreman retorted. "I think that you're tired of moving. You want to be around your family, around Cameron. So stay. You can be a photographer here."
It was true. There was a lot she could do with her talent for photography; she didn't need to travel. And the thought of traipsing about was no longer appealing. The more she was alone, the more she saw that face, that nightmare from Africa. Here she had family and possibly friends. "Okay, I give," she relented. "Let's find me a place to stay."
It's a start, Foreman thought with a hopeful smile.
A month had finally come. House had been in rehab for six weeks, and Cameron could not have been more ecstatic and nervous at the same time. Her belly was starting to protrude. Resting a hand on her tummy, she reveled in it. "Are you ready, Wilson?" she asked.
Wilson ended his call on his cell phone and darted for the driver's side of Cameron's car. "I'm ready to pick up the prince," he said cheerfully, sarcastically. He was excited to have his best friend back. Greg House could royally piss him off, but he needed him right now.
Their drive was relatively quiet as they headed for the hospital. They pulled into the driveway finding House with no cast, no cane, standing by the curb. Cameron jumped from the car. "How are you?" she asked him, holding his hands tightly in hers.
"Much better now," he assured her in a whisper. "I tried to escape once over the electric fence, but I got caught. And they whipped me. With chains."
"Nothing you didn't deserve, I'm sure," Wilson said as he came over to hug his friend. "Welcome back," he whispered.
House smiled with contentment at being together with two of the most important and loved people in his life.
On the drive back, House asked, "So how's Cuddy?"
Wilson swallowed. "She's pregnant." He didn't elaborate that he had refused to speak to her in any other way than professional for three weeks and they both drowned him in congratulations. They dropped him off at his home and sped towards their own. The oncologist noticed that it was about to rain as he entered the apartment.
Cuddy crept into the living room with a baseball bat. Gasping at the sight of Wilson, she said, "Jimmy, you scared me!" Embarrassed, she sat the bat down.
He stepped closer to her. "I don't care," he declared. When he saw the confusion clouding her features, Wilson clarified, "I don't want the baby to take a paternity test. We wanted child, and now we've been blessed with one." He put his hand on her stomach, saying, "This is my child."
Cameron scurried around the car now that the rain was falling hard. She tried in vein to haul his suitcase from the trunk. "Just leave it, Ally," he told her.
"No, I can get it," she shouted over the rain.
"I'm not a cripple in any way anymore. You don't have to help now," he said, shoving the suitcase back into the trunk and slamming the lid down. "There's no need to bring it in now."
He could see the hurt in her eyes. "I never treated you like a cripple," she hollered back at him. The rain had already soaked through their clothes and drenched their hair.
"I know," he said. "I wanted you to before we started dating, so that I would have an excuse to run. But I never want to run from you again, Ally. I love you."
"Does that mean your proposal still stands?" she asked, her heart thrashing around in her chest like a dying fish on a boat.
He nodded, laughing happily. She threw herself into his arms, and for the first time in so long, Greg House did the impossible. He lifted her from the ground, causing her to wrap her legs around his waist. They kissed passionately as the rain danced around and on them.
"Then my answer is still yes, Stallion," she whispered into his ear. House shifted her so that he was spinning them in celebratory circles. If the rain hadn't been so loud, their laughter and shouts of joy could have been heard for miles.
That April, Mr. and Mrs. House welcomed little Emily Blythe, a blue-eyed darling that had her mother's nose, and little James Gregory, a raucous boy with long limbs and deep green eyes.