House watched Lisa, lying on the hospital bed, dying of an illness that he could not save her from.

Cancer. Stage four, systemic small cell lung cancer that had spread into her heart, crushing her entire chest. Wilson's diagnosis was grim, but the oncologist had rechecked several times and House had helped him.

There was nothing they could do.

Now Lisa Cuddy, sat on her hospital bed, draped in wires monitoring her heartbeat, her BP… Everything was monitored and calculated. She knew her days were coming to an end. In shaking arms, Lisa held baby Rachel. She cooed and stroked her hair, watching her play with the blanket.

And House watched. From behind the glass House watched her. The only woman he had ever really given a crap about, apart from Stacy, was dying.

Wilson stood behind him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"House," He said quietly. "She needs you,"

House looked away.

"No," He said. "She need a cure."

"Yes,"Wilson agreed. "She needs that. But she also needs to know that the time that you guys shared... Well she needs to know that it didn't last months. Not in your eyes. She needs to know that your time together was the best and that you tried everything to make her life better," He left.

House tapped his cane, thinking. Finally, he sighed, and slid open the ward doors.

"Greg," Cuddy said weakly. She held Rachel closer. House limped forward. He motioned that he could take her foster child into his arms. Cuddy smiled gratefully and as House sat down, she placed her child into his arms.

House watched Rachel curl her tiny fingers, gently touching his cheek. He watched her silently.

Cuddy lay back down on her bed, watching them both.

"Greg," She said silently.

House looked up.

"I'm dying," She said. "And I don't want to leave without saying…" She sighed and coughed. "Greg, I love you," She said.

House looked at her. He placed his hand against her face. Their lips pressed together for a moment.

"I love you too," He said. "These last few months... Okay... They're not in the most ideal of situations..." Cuddy smiled slightly. "But... For me at least... They were truly the best. I think that, if we had more time... Then we could have been something truly amazing."

She whispered. "I want you to take care of Rachel after I'm gone."

House was startled. "But Wilson-"

"I don't Wilson to raise her." Cuddy replied. "I want you to."

"But I'll screw the kids life up," House replied. "I've screwed mine up,"

Cuddy shook her head sleepily. "I think that you would make an excellent father to her… Please House," She said. "For me?"

House held Rachel close as Cuddy died. He could not match the pain that was now rippling through his body. He sat down on a vinyl chair, head in hand. There was a funny sound… He realised that the sound was coming from him. A noise like heart retching sobs, his chest felt tight and Greg House began to cry.

It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.