A/N

This little story came very much out of the blue, I wasn't sure where it was going but very much enjoyed writing it and getting my writing mojo back after an academic interlude. Anyway, thank you all once again for the lovely reviews. This is the final chapter. Merry New Year to you and yours!

Chapter 6

2026

House, Sam and Wilson waited for the bubbles to calm in their glasses before drinking a toast to the New Year. Sam pulled his father's hand to help him stand and the three raised their glasses in anticipation.

"Here's to 2026! A new era, college, solo dude in NYC!" Sam offered his toast, barely able to keep the joy from his voice.

"To 2026, happy New Year!" replied House and Wilson in tandem.

The group sat once again, standing was harder for House now and he was grateful for the seat as they waited for the others to join them. He watched his son as he sipped cautiously at the champagne, all six foot six of him. The freshly shaved cheeks, the cool haircut and the outfit he'd spent an hour choosing that last weekend. He was so proud of him. The kid was working hard in school, there had been the rough patch when he'd hit fifteen but they'd worked through it and the police hadn't wanted to go ahead with the conviction, thankfully. He was on the honour roll, heading toward NYU and a degree in Urban Design and Architecture, an individual mind distinct from his own.

"Dad?" Sam asked. House smiled, knowing full well he had tuned out for a moment, lost in his son and how well he had turned out despite his father.

"Sam?"

"I just asked what your resolution was?"

"No way, I'm not falling for that. No resolutions, none of that crap for me. That's Wilson's thing, ask him!"

They chatted through plans for the coming year, Sam was giving up his weekend job to concentrate on his SATs, Wilson wanted to visit Rome and House avoided discussing the surgery he had scheduled for the winter. They ordered starters once Sam's girlfriend arrived along with Wilson's wife and daughter, Taylor. Cuddy arrived not long after bringing a freshly employed Rachel along before she headed out with her friends, and then there she was, Stacy, stunning after all these years.

She leaned in to kiss House on the cheek after pecking Sam on the top of his head.

"Hey there, sorry I'm late." She whispered in his ear.

"No problem, glad they let you out."

She sat next to him, claimed her rightful place at his side. House couldn't help but feel content, secure in his friendships, in his family. It might have been the champagne but he suddenly found himself raising another toast before he could stop himself.

"To Sam Lightnin House, watch out New York, it's this boy's time."

"To Lightnin!" replied the assembled group.

"To Lightnin?" Rachel asked deeply puzzled as to why she had never known this juicy little fact.

Sam cringed, slumping deep into his seat, reminded of his awful pet name. Stacy rumpled his hair instantly ruining the style he'd had going on and removing the veneer of adulthood he'd just about managed to project. House thought back to the moment he'd named his son eighteen years ago to the day, lost in his memories, a sentimental old man.

Wilson had arrived, arms laden with bags of take-out and formula. House had almost settled into his new life and had passed a festivity free Christmas trying to work out the baby now he was home in Princeton. New Year's Eve had arrived and Wilson had forced House to acknowledge it with the promise of take-out, beer and a run of eighties movies.

"So, the baby is two months now, got a name picked out?" he asked before he'd even dished up the food.

"I was thinking of naming him after Lightnin' Hopkins actually."

"You can't!" Wilson replied, incredulous.

"Why not? 'T model Blues', 'Mr Charlie' – great tracks. I think he's a great musician. He's my kid besides, my sperm, my choice. End of." House said as he finished feeding his son.

"House, you can't name him Lightin'!"

"Who said anything about Lightnin'? I agree, that would be ridiculous. Do you have no faith in me at all?!" House asked, innocent face, glad his wind-up had worked so beautifully. He placed the baby against his chest and rubbed at his back waiting for the impressive burp he knew was imminent.

"But… you just said…"

"Sam John Hopkins. Later known as Lightnin' Hopkins. Wilson, you gotta calm down, you're going to burst something." He replied, as he changed to winding position number two.

"So, wait. So Sam? Sam is what you're going with?"

"Yeah, a great name. Strong, friendly, no possible way it can be abused by mean kids in school. Sam House, has a formidable ring to it, don't you think?" House answered as he lifted the baby up under his tiny arms to try the name out, "Sam House. You like that name kid?" he sat the baby up on his lap, one hand on his belly and up under his chin, the other rubbing in circles on his back.

The baby wriggled in his arms, round little belly squirming under his stripy onesie and let out an enormous burp, something to be proud of.

"Atta boy Sam, atta boy." House placed him back in the bouncy seat next to the sofa and tucked a blanket snugly around him, knowing he would be out for the next few hours.

Wilson stared in awe, he was making this look so easy. He was on wife number two and still no closer. Damn House.

They ate, they talked, they drank until the murmur in the restaurant grew indicating the countdown about to begin. The tables around them began to stand, getting coats ready to go outside and watch the fireworks. House's table stayed seated, respectful of his reduced mobility, keen not to draw attention to it.

The countdown commenced and everybody readied themselves into position to see in the New Year. One full of hope, possibility and change.

Wilson and Beth kissed as Taylor rolled her eyes, stuck in the throws of teenage parent-horror. She tapped at her phone, desperate not to be left out of her friendship group. Rachel and Cuddy raised their own private toast, smiling, both beautiful. Sam and the latest girlfriend House had forgotten the name of giggled as they made out, taking advantage of the distracted company and House and Stacy surveyed all that was around them. This year was going to change a lot of things. Sam was leaving home, House was quitting his practice, ready to take an academic post, Stacy had been promoted to judge, and then there was the surgery, the elephant in the room, the outcome of which scared House more than anything he had ever faced.

They gazed at each other, smiles loaded with meaning. Stacy squeezed his hand as he swallowed his fear down. He was losing his boy, he was losing his leg. The first drunken bars of Auld Lang Syne started to ring out, the lyrics clear and sure. They clinked their glasses together, drank a sip and kissed in the year that lay ahead. Sure of each other, ready to face anything.

Deep inside, he knew it was all going to work out. As Stevie Wonder had once said, just as time knew to move on since the beginning, House knew that time waited for no man, whether he was ready or not.

He lifted his glass to Stacy, "To 2026, bring it on."