So I've been working on this for a long time, and I am finally glad I'm done. I'm really happy with it actually. I'd like to know what you think, so review?

And it's from Rachel's POV. You know, Cuddy's kid.

That man is always around a lot. Mommy calls him House. She's silly, we live in a house, and nobody is really named that.

He works at the hospital with mommy, and he walks funny. Mommy said it's because he hurt his leg a long time ago, and that it hurts all the time. That's really sad, I feel bad for him. I don't like it when I get hurt, but I cry when I get a boo-boo. When I asked mommy if House cries, she laughed. I didn't think it was funny.

House is a strange guy. He acts like he doesn't like me, but mommy says that he does. That's okay; all the boys at the daycare center are shy too. And I know that he likes me, because when mommy isn't around, House lets me sit in his lap and he talks to me and he calls me the "cleanest four year old ever" and he lets me play with the toys on his desk.

Sometimes though, after mommy talks with House, she gets sad. Mommy says it's okay; she's just having some problems. I wonder though if it's House she's crying about.

--

He's still around. Sometimes he's around more often, and then other times he doesn't come back for a long time. I miss him when he's not around, because then the only other time when I see him is at the hospital, but it's so busy there I don't get to spend a lot of time with him. And I like it when House and mommy are together. He makes her smile.

--

"Happy birthday kid."

I looked up to see House standing next to me, holding a wrapped package in front of my face. I took it from him, and shifted over on the couch so he could sit next to me. It's just my luck that my birthday falls during winter break and I have to go to work with mom and stay at the boring hospital all day. At least House lets me hang out in his office when he's not working.

When I looked at the card, I grinned because it is glittery, girly and pink, and I found it hilarious that House would actually buy such a thing. He probably made Thirteen get the card for him, but I still love it regardless. He noticed I was lingering on the card.

"You are ten, right?" he asked.

"Yes!"

"Just making sure."

I rolled my eyes and ripped off the paper on the present, letting the paper fall to my mom's well kept office floor. "A box?"

"Yes. And also what's inside the box."

Smiling, I hurriedly flipped open the box lid and looked inside. "Tickets to the Muse concert!"

"Your mom told me that you wanted to go and since I knew your mom wasn't going to get them for you, I did," House said, patting my back. "Happy birthday Rachel."

He started to get up, unsteadily with his cane like he always does.

"There's only two," I said.

"Yeah. One for you, and since your mom won't let you go anywhere by yourself, there's one for her too."

"What about you?"

House stared at me, thinking about what I had just said with his mouth open, as though he couldn't decide what to say. "You…want me to go with you?"

I nodded. "Yeah. You're fun to be around and you know a lot about music." A pause. "And I like it when you and mommy are together."

House sighed. "Me too."

--

Uncle Jimmy describes mom and House's relationship as on-again-off-again. I think he thinks that I don't know what that means, but I do. I'm thirteen, not eight.

Mom knows how House feels about her, and he knows how she feels about him. There are the times when House stays over, but then there are times when he doesn't and they only speak when they have too. Uncle Jimmy says it's because it's because of House's "commitment issues" and mom's fear of being left time after time by him. I think it's kind of stupid, because House just needs to get over it and not leave mom again.

But I think this time it will be final. I was supposed to be asleep, but when I heard a motorcycle pull into our driveway in the middle of the night I knew it must have been him. So I quietly got out of bed and I cracked open my door.

Sure enough, after my mom tiredly stumbled to the front door and opened it, House was standing there. Mom made a move to close the door, but House put his cane in the way so the door would not close and he pushed it open so he could walk inside. Mom sighed and shut the door as House stood in the foyer. He looked like he did when he was troubled and had a hard time figuring out what to say.

"Cuddy…Lisa..."

"Shh! Rachel's sleeping!" mom hissed.

"I don't want to do this anymore. I-"

"Please House. I don't need this now."

"I thought that I couldn't live without you. And for a good majority of our life, we've denied our feelings for each other. And when we finally did, we can't seem to get it right. I know some of it's my fault-,"

"Oh, really?" mom said.

"But," House continued, "I like the time we spend together. But I don't like it when we fight."

"House…"

"Let me finish." House looked at the ceiling, away from mom, who was beginning to have her eyes fill with tears. "So I've been thinking about it. This…thing. And even though when we're together and it's great, when we're at one of those times when we're not, it's worse. So to make that not happen, I've come up with a solution."

"So what are you saying?" mom asked quietly.

Meanwhile, my heart is pumping fast in my chest, worried that House is going to do the stupidest thing ever. He can't not be with mom. It just can't be that way.

"I said that I didn't think I could live without you. Well…I was wrong," House said.

Mom looked up at House in shock, tears flowing down her face and she was shaking because of the sobs she was holding back. Putting my hand to my face, I realized I was crying too.

"What I mean is…" House sighed. "And even though this sounds really…cheesy…"

"What?!" Mom gasped.

"I said that I thought that I couldn't live without you. Now I know I couldn't live without you."

For a second mom grinned, but then she slapped House in the face.

"Don't you ever scare me like that again!" she said.

"I don't plan on it." House rubbed his cheek where mom had slapped him. "Hmm…you want it rough though, huh?"

"Don't be silly. Not when Rachel's here."

House stepped closer to mom, and put his arms around her waist, bringing her closer to him and then kissed her deeply on the lips.

Shutting my bedroom door and quietly slipping back into bed, I was the happiest I had ever been in a long time.

--

Mom and House have been together for an entire year. An entire year without one running away from the other. A whole three hundred and sixty-five days.

--

I can't believe this. Everything that I had thought to be true, isn't. Why would mom wait until I was fifteen to tell me this? I never questioned being my mother's child; we both have dark hair and brown eyes are common so it explained why I didn't have her blue ones…

…But then again, where my mom's hair is curly and bouncy, mine is pin-straight and I don't look like her at all.

I locked myself in my room, and I can hear mom outside of my door. She's crying, and begging for me to come out and forgive her. But how can I?

"Rachel honey, you have to understand. Please listen to me."

"No!" I yelled.

About twenty minutes after I didn't hear my mom outside my door, I was startled by a knock on the door.

"Go away," I muttered, thinking it was my mother.

"Rach," said a gruff voice from the other side.

Reluctantly, I got up from my spot on the floor and shuffled across my room and open the door. Sure enough, there House was on the other side, leaning on the doorframe and staring at me with his icy blue eyes.

When I was younger, I used to fabricate these elaborate stories in my mind where House was my biological father. I had never had a father of my own, and when I asked mom about my birth father, she told me that I would never see him. Ever. She would say that I didn't need him. I would get so jealous when I would see other kids my age with dads and I would wish more than anything to have both a mom and a dad. I would look on spitefully at the kids that had complete families. So in my mind, House – that guy that was always around – filled in as my father in my mind. As I got older though, I came to terms, realizing that this was not so. He was just House.

"Can I come in?" he asked.

"Mom sent you," I stated.

He shrugged. "Possibly."

"Did you know?"

"Know that you were adopted? Yeah."

I closed my eyes, disappointed that he had lied to me my entire life too.

"It's not that bad. You had a much better life with your mom than what you would have had with your real parents."

"But mom…isn't my mom," I said softly.

House let out a deep breath, then touched me on the shoulder. "Rachel, I want to tell you something that I've only told two other people. Your mom and your uncle Jimmy."

I guessed that I could listen to what he had to say.

It turns out that House was raised by somebody that wasn't his real dad. House told me that even though the man that raised him was harsh, cruel and wasn't related to him at all, he was still his dad. He explained that the people that are your parents are the ones that are there for you and not necessarily the people that you share genetics with.

"Lisa Cuddy is your mom, Rachel. She loves you more than any other mother loves their child. And you know that," House said. "You are very special to her."

I nodded, knowing what he was saying was true. "And you're…kind of like my dad."

House raised his eyebrows, surprised at what I had said. I immediately regretted it, seeing as my comment put him out of his comfort zone. He looked down at the ground, rubbing his injured thigh, trying not to look at me so he won't have to answer my question.

"Well Greg?"

Both House and I looked over to see my mom smiling and standing in the doorway. My cheeks burn with embarrassment, as I was sure House's did too. House made a popping noise with his lips, and then gave me a sideways glance.

"Yeah, I guess you can say that."

And I smiled, because even though my mom isn't the woman who gave birth to me and my "dad" wasn't your normal model father, I thought that I was shaping up to have the best family ever.

--

"Okay. Put it in reverse now."

I'm so excited. I'm finally sixteen, and I'm learning how to drive from House. He actually offered, which surprised both me and mom.

So far I've been doing well I think.

"Rachel. Pay attention. Wait – STOP!"

House's warnings were too late though – I had already backed into the tree.

We sat silently in the car for a few seconds without saying anything. I was nervous, afraid that House was going to be pissed off and start insulting me.

"Well," he said simply. "When did that tree get there?"

I glanced over to him. Was he serious, or was he trying to lighten the mood so I wouldn't be so embarrassed? Probably the latter.

"Um, I don't know?" I said. "You're not angry…?"

House shrugged. "It happens sometimes. But for future reference, try not run into things. You get in a lot of trouble if it's a person that you run over."

I cracked a smile. "I try to remember that. But…do we have tell mom about this?"

"We kind of have to. How else do explain a dent in the back bumper?"

"Oh yeah…"

"It's okay. She'll end up blaming me for some reason or another." He began speaking in a high pitched voice which he used to mock mom. "Greg, you should have been watching her. I knew I should have had Wilson teach her instead. Were you the one really driving and you just convinced her to take the blame?"

House always knows what to say.

--

I was so stupid. My whole life I have been a good child, never doing anything risky or dangerous. But my friends had convinced me that it would be okay, that I wouldn't get caught and it would all be okay.

Well, I didn't get caught, but it wasn't okay. I felt absolutely horrible. I was sick, scared, and I just wanted to be home. I didn't, no, I couldn't call mom. The only person left was him.

I locked myself in the bathroom, crumbled to the floor and dialed his number, and I couldn't remember another time when I had been so thankful to hear that rough voice on the other end.

"What's the matter?" House paused. "Rachel, where are you?" I assumed he could hear the music pounding in the background.

"Um." I took a gasp of air. "At Bailey's house."

"And where is that?"

I mumbled the address, hoping I was remembering it correctly in my stupor. I kept waiting to be berated by him, but it never came. All he told me was to go outside and to stay on the porch, stay safe, and that he would be there as soon as possible.

I managed to drag myself to the front of the house, and it wasn't long until House came. He limped up to the house, threw remarks at the other kids, saying that they should be making sure that people weren't getting sick, and that they shouldn't be having a party anyway and that they were lucky that he wasn't going to turn them in. I don't remember much of this; I was too focused on not passing out as I walked along side House with my head against his shoulder on the way back to his car.

After I slid into the passenger seat and we got around the corner, House put the car in park and shined a light in my eyes.

"Did you take any drugs?" he asked.

I felt so sick, and that light hurt my head.

"Rachel. I need to know. Did you take any drugs?"

"No," I stutter. "Just alcohol." House checked my pulse as I added as an afterthought, "Please don't tell mom."

He didn't answer my request. "You need to go to the hospital."

"No!" I protested. "I'm fine, I-"

"You're heavily intoxicated, and I think you've been slipped some drugs. You need to go."

"No."

"Well, too bad. We're going now." House began driving in the direction of the hospital.

"Can we please not go to mom's hospital? Please?"

"Are you kidding? And let those quacks at the other places treat you?"

"But-"

"That's the end of it Rachel. You're going."

I was going to argue more, but I couldn't remember much else. The next thing I remember was waking up in the hospital. Kutner was at my side writing something on what I guessed was my medical chart. When he saw that I was awake, he smiled and looked over his shoulder.

"House, she's awake."

Then House appeared in my line of vision. He waited until Kutner left the room before he started speaking.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"Okay, I guess," I said.

"Good. Now, don't you ever do something that idiotic again."

"I'm sorry!" I fiddled with the sheets on my bed. "I just-"

"I don't care. You don't know how worried your mom and I were."

"You told mom?"

"Yes."

"Why?" I shrieked. "You know that I didn't want you to, and you always said that you would always come and get me if I got into trouble and you wouldn't tell mom."

"I said into trouble, not into near death."

"I wasn't near death."

"Your heart stopped once you got in the ER. Someone at the party gave you some drugs." He leaned on the railing on the bed. "Do you have any idea who?"

I shook my head. "Is mom here then?"

"Yeah. She'll be back in a little bit."

And when mom came back, I was glad that she didn't scold me like I thought she would. Instead she was thankful that I was okay, saying that she wouldn't have known what to do if she lost me, but at the same time, she managed to make me feel guilty enough to not want to do it again. Maybe that was her point.

As I drifted off to sleep, I saw mom resting with her head on House's shoulder with their hands intertwined having matching glints of gold reflect off of the rings on their fingers.

I was sure that I would get punished later, but now, it was okay.

--

Graduation day, the day that sums up all of my accomplishments so far. Not that I accomplished much in high school. But still, it was important.

I waited through all the speeches about how we had our whole life in front of us and that we could do whatever we wanted, blah blah blah. The person I was sitting to I did not know, aside from today and yesterday when we had had graduation rehearsal. He just happened to be the person that had a name next to me in the alphabet. He mocked the speeches, and he said that they were lame and that they always said motivational stuff like that and that he took no stock into it. However, I found the speeches quite moving and I had to turn away when I felt my eyed filling up with tears after our principal spoke about opportunities and what we could do with them.

When I looked to the side, I saw my mom, uncle Jimmy and House sitting in the endless of rows of proud families and friends. Mom was trying not to cry and was looking at the stage and uncle Jimmy was nodding, agreeing with what the speaker was saying.

House however, caught my eye. He saw that I was teary eyed, and tilted his head as if asking a question. This is making you cry? I could hear him asking. High school graduation speeches. Real tear jerker.

He gave me a thumbs up and a smile, which I returned, and turned back to the front.

Later when the names were being called, I was so anxious that I would fall or something on my way on stage. When I expressed this fear last night, mom and House gave me advice. Mom said that if that did happen that I should just get up and laugh it off. House said that I should just lie on the floor until someone would get up and move me. I giggled thinking of what he had said.

Anderson. Avery. Baker. Baker. Baber. Barkley. Barnes. Barry. Baxley. Since when were there so many people in her senior class?

Carmony (of course he would act like a fool on stage). Carter. Charles. The Clark twins. Collins. Cope. Crook.

My turn was getting really close now and my row stood up so we could wait in line to go on stage. I wondered if I did trip on stage, should I just get up and act like it didn't happen, or should I do what House said, just to be funny. It certainly would be memorable. But humiliating. But humiliation was guaranteed no matter what I did if I fell.

"Rachel House."

It was my turn; I grabbed the diploma, shook hands, walked off stage. As my picture got taken on the side of the stage by the photographer, I was thanking God I didn't fall on my face and that it was over.

After that, the rest of the ceremony went a lot faster. I waited for I through Z to get their names called, a speech from our valedictorian, and then we sang our alma mater even though none of us really knew the words to it.

When it was over I walked around the big room looking for my family, and I found them waiting not too far off. Mom was crying and hugged me whispering my ear how proud she was of me. Uncle Jimmy congratulated me, saying how old he felt because he could remember when I was just a baby.

House awkwardly stuck out his hand, which I shook. After a few seconds, I hugged him regardless of how he tried to escape it.

"Good job kid," he muttered. "You graduated, along with three hundred and sixty-five other people."

I smiled. "Thanks dad."

He still wasn't used to me calling him that. I didn't always call him that. Most times he was House, because that's just who he was. Mom even called him that a lot of the time. But at times, it was just right to call him dad, because even though I didn't have my real father, House was what I thought a real one would be like.

And looking around at the other families that surrounded us and when I looked back at mine, I thought I had that best make shift parents ever. Because they were my mom and dad, and it didn't matter if I had their blue eyes or not.

Thanks for reading! Reviews are nice. :)