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Hold On
by Taima Hiroshima
The house was, of course, in complete chaos. Leenie seemed to have colic. Each of the doctor's took turns staying up with her. Wilson had even taken the day off to stay home with her.
House had spent the day in his office, not doing paperwork. He had stared at the clock, willing it to move faster. The second hand liked to toy with him though, and a few times he thought it might even be moving backwards.
Finally, it hits five o clock. House snatched his can and gimped out as fast as he thought he was possibly able. Cameron slipped out of the conference room and jogged after him.
"House... HOUSE!"
"What do you want?" he sneered at her. She looked at him for a moment.
"I guess... I just wondered how the baby is." She looked sheepish. He looked at her for a minute and then back at the elevator doors.
"Colicky," he finally mumbled. Cameron stared at him blankly for a minute. Her face then lit up with understanding.
"I could, you know, take your clinic hours for you. Just until she feels better." She offered.
"You know, somehow I knew that you were going to say that. I already signed you up for all of them." He doubted that Leenie would be sick for the next month, but it was better to be safe than sorry, after all.
The look he caught on Cameron's face as he was leaving was somewhere between outraged and amused.
"Oh yeah, I've still go it." He said to himself as he waited for the elevator to hit the ground floor.
**
For the first time in days, the apartment was ringing with the sound of her wails. House frowned for a moment and wondered if maybe Wilson had finally lost it and sold the baby to a passing circus or something.
Birdie came into the room. She rubbed against his good leg, and he stooped painfully to pet her. She meowed a few times before hopping up onto her favorite chair and watching him with interest. Since Leenie had started on this colic thing, she had taken to hiding in the kitchen under the table.
House quietly crept towards the baby's room. He thought that maybe, maybe he could hear the softest singing.
"Your days, you say they're way too long. And your nights, you can't sleep at all. And you're not sure what you're waiting for, but you don't want to no more. And you're not sure what you're looking for, but you don't want to no more. But we all bleed the same way as you do. And we all have the same things to go through.
Hold on, if you feel like go. Hold on, it gets better than you know. Don't stop looking you're one step closer. Don't stop searching, it's not over. Hold on."
Oh, who was that? Wilson! House realized. Wilson was singing. But what the hell song was that? House didn't think that he had ever heard it before. He turned and went back to the living room, where he picked up the newspaper and began to scan the articles for something to hold his attention.
His lover soon came out of the room. He closed the door softly and sighed as he leaned against it.
James Wilson certainly does look a mess. His hair is tousled, and he's wearing the same t-shirt and sleep pants he was when House left this morning. Only now the t-shirt is spattered with what looks like spit up and formula and maybe what was some of James's own lunch, during the few minutes he probably got to eat.
"How was it?"
"Nurgh," James muttered, shuffling into the kitchen. House heard the can opener. A few minutes later, he is presented with a bowl of chicken noodle soup. James flopped down to the same thing.
"What the hell were you singing to hear?" House couldn't bear waiting anymore. He just has to know. James turned red, right to the roots of his hair. He coughed something that House didn't catch.
"Come on, tell me!"
"Good Charlotte," Wilson mumbled, stirring his soup spoon. For perhaps the first time in his life, House couldn't think of anything to say. Not one single word.
"Good Charlotte?" he finally repeated.
"She likes it!"
"Okay, how do YOU know a Good Charlotte song?" House demanded. Wilson doesn't say anything for a few seconds.
"I heard Girls and Boys one day on the radio, and I don't know, I just really liked it. So I bought the CD and..." he shrugged. House stared.
"You know the lead singer is with Nicole Ritchie, right? How can you listen to that music! How can you possibly encourage such behavior? I mean, sure, when he was with Hillary Duff, at least she was sort of cute..." he trailed off.
"Look, House, she'd been crying and crying and it was the only thing I could think of. So lay off it, okay? We're going to have to call my mother soon to see what she says." He ran his hand down his face.
"Why not my mother? Or why not just consult the internet if we want some cheesy home remedy?" House snorted. James sighed and didn't say anything.
"You know, James, we never really discussed how we felt about raising a child. We probably should have before we had one, but now it's a bit too late."
"House," Wilson groaned. "I'm tired. Do we have to do this now?"
"First, public school or private?"
"Private,"
"Private! Come on, we don't want her to be some sort of spoiled princess. Public school makes you touch." House wrinkled his nose.
"Public school makes you a hoochie!" James countered.
"Of course it doesn't, don't be ridiculous." House calmly ate a bite of his soup. "You didn't go to public school, did you?"
"What are you implying?" icicles could have formed from Wilson's words.
"Well, I mean, three marriages, how many affairs? And then there's me..." he smiled.
"I am not in the mood to deal with this tonight!" James hefted himself up. "I've just spent all day trying to deal with your daughter..."
"Oh, sure, when she's cute and snuggly she's our daughter. But when she's being impossible, she's my daughter."
"Well, the apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it?!?" James practically threw his bowl in the sink and stormed into the bedroom.
"I think I should sleep on the couch tonight..." House said to himself with a sigh. He had just switched on the TV, when he heard a familiar whimper coming from Leenie's room.
He should go get it. It's practically his duty. James was here all day. But... With a sigh, he pulled himself up from the couch and limped in. His daughter looked up at him from her crib, her brown eyes wide, and her lips trembling.
She sobbed softly as House pulled her up and sat both of them in the rocking chair. It wasn't time for her evening feeding yet, so he refrained from going to get a bottle. Instead, he adjusted her in the crook of his arm. Birdie nudged the cracked door open a little more and hopped up on the changing table to watch them.
House couldn't get her to settle down. He tried shaking her rattle, making her favorite bear dance around, and even making silly faces. Nothing seemed to console her. With a sigh, House bent down and kissed her forehead.
"You're so lucky I love you. I hope Mommy James isn't awake to hear this..." he cleared his throat and sang that song he'd heard James singing earlier.
"Hold on, if you feel like letting go." Immediately, her eyes began to drop shut. As soon as he'd sung all he'd remembered, she fell asleep. He eased her back into the crib and left, the cat following.
The door to his room was open. He peered in and sat Wilson, sitting up on the bed. He was wearing clean clothes, and it looked like he'd at least washed his hair. He opened up his arms. House came in and allowed himself to be hugged.
"I don't mean to be so snippy." Wilson told him.
"I know. You're just someone's mommy." House smiled. Wilson groaned but let it slide.
"I'm drawing the line here, you know. No Backstreet Boys or anything."
"I know," Wilson told him as he stretched out. House stretched out next to him.
"I guess it's not really a bad song after all." House said as he closed his eyes.
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Legal Disclaimer: The authors published here make no claims on the ownership of Dr. Gregory House and the other fictional residents of Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Like the television show House (and quite possibly Dr. Wilson's pocket protector), they are the property of NBC/Universal, David Shore and undoubtedly other individuals of whom I am only peripherally aware. The fan fiction authors published here receive no monetary benefit from their work and intend no copyright infringement nor slight to the actual owners. We love the characters and we love the show, otherwise we wouldn't be here.
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