A/N: Well, here's the final chapter. I've decided since it's already written up that I wouldn't wait to post it. So, I hope everyone enjoys it. And I want to thank those that have taken the time to read my story! The reviews were wonderful and I'm glad so many liked the crossover!

Enjoy!

Chapter Twenty Nine

"Can you believe it's snowing this hard?" Chase muttered as he warmed his hands. The others shook their heads miserably.

Emma had managed to catch House's team just as they were leaving the hospital. All that was left for them was retrieving their belongings from Granny's and they were heading back to New Jersey.

"Leaving so soon?" Emma glanced at each of them in turn and was surprised to feel almost reluctant to say goodbye to them. It was a brutal reminder of the past she'd left behind a while ago.

"Time to head back to reality," Thirteen sighed, snuggling her coat tighter around her body. She dug out her car keys, swinging them on a finger.

"Mary Margaret is about ready for discharge. Just…tell her not to eat any more apples," Taub advised, getting in the car. "I call shotgun!" Emma brushed the snowflakes from her blonde hair.

"Yeah, well…Regina Mills is sitting in a jail cell, arrested for attempted murder. She's not going anywhere." Thank God, Emma thought. That woman had serious issues if she was poisoning a schoolteacher. And her son's schoolteacher, at that.

Chase paused near the car and pulled Emma aside. She eyed him suspiciously as he raked a hand through his sandy hair—he wanted to say something. This should be good.

"Look, I can't leave without making things right between us," he said. Taub stuck his head out the window.

"Can this wait until we reach Granny's Inn?" Thirteen scowled at him as she started the engine, revving it purposely to tell Chase to hurry up. Chase licked his lips and tried again.

"You were saying?" Emma motioned for him to continue. Chase whistled as he contemplated his next words.

"About Debala…I never meant…" He looked like he was going to have a mental breakdown as he struggled for the words to come. Emma placed a hand on his arm to stop him. Don't hurt yourself, there.

"I understand. It may have gone against my morals as a doctor…but it was your way of playing the hero in a depressing place," she mused. Chase breathed a sigh of relief. Emma inevitably smiled. "I forgive you."

"Wonderful. Now can the Aussie get in the car? It's freezing," Taub called out, redirecting their attention back to the car. Chase brushed a hand along Emma's arm and then climbed in, rubbing his hands together for warmth.

"Aussie? You're sounding a lot like House," Thirteen teased him, arching an eyebrow in speculation. Taub smoothed a hand across his forehead.

"I'm tired. It happens." Emma was about to head back into the hospital when another thought hit her. She rapped a knuckle against Taub's window to draw their attention again. "Yes?"

"Do you know where House is?" All three of the doctors exchanged wary looks and answered all at once.

"The diner." Chase opened the car door for her, sliding over in his seat to make room for her.

"Hop in."

"You never give up, do you?" Emma approached House's booth, noticing the way his crystal blue eyes mentally undressed Ruby. The waitress flitted away, looking quite satisfied with herself. "What, are you going to take her home to Wilson?"

House gave her a serious look and scoffed.

"Are you kidding? Wilson would never approve. You know how he is with his morals. Princeton-Plainsboro's own little Jiminy Cricket." Not according to Henry, Emma thought as she took the seat across from House.

"So…the Mayor was the one who poisoned Mary Margaret. I did a search of her house. Looks like it was a mixture of arthritis pills and…she was scraping gold off some valuable pieces of jewelry. Her own deadly concoction of gold. I don't even know what she has against Mary Margaret."

House didn't seem the least bit fazed by this information. He had figured there was something not right about the Mayor—she had seemed to have her insecurities.

"Explains why she wanted us gone so fast. I'll have to fire my ducklings for not being more observant." Emma crossed her arms.

"It also means someone will have to take custody of Henry, at least while Regina's in jail," she said. There was no question who that person would ultimately be. She wondered how she'd feel, caring solely for her biological son. House nodded.

"Aren't you just a ray of sunshine, looking on the bright side," he commented, just as his food appeared. A ham sandwich, a side of chips, and a soda in one of those old glass coke bottles. Emma waited for Ruby to move away before voicing her main concern.

"You know, after we…slept together," she leaned forward to whisper. There was no need for everyone in the diner to hear. House copied her gesture, making a show of checking over his shoulder.

"Yeah? What about us sleeping together?" House raised his voice on the last three words, making every head in the diner turn. Emma buried her head in her hands, staving off anger. Typical House. Would it kill you to take this seriously for once?

"Really, House?" He just shrugged with an innocent expression on his face. "As I was saying…I started to remember a night ten years ago. It was in a bar and I slept with a stranger. Nine months later I had Henry."

House stared blankly at her as he chewed. He knew what was coming next. The only reason he didn't try to avoid it was because he didn't think he could reach the diner door very fast.

"What's your point?" Emma rested her arms on the table and waited for House to look straight into her eyes.

"I finally remembered it. That stranger was Henry's father. That stranger…was you," she breathed in a mixture of wonder and sadness. House laid his sandwich down and glanced uneasily out the window. She wanted to scream at him. House, didn't you hear what I said? Didn't you hear me? Henry is your son!

"Henry…that kid is nothing like me," House insisted, shaking it off as if Emma had just informed him it was 2012. It grinded against her nerves and she glared at him.

"House, he is your son. Sure, he has my green eyes and my sense of honor. Have you ever seen him piece something together? Like when he's flipping through that book?" House stared silently; she didn't even know if he was listening to her words. "Henry is stubborn. That kid's not afraid of anything. And you know what? It isn't just about believing in a magical world or reading fairy tales. To him, it's a puzzle. And ever since I came here he's been doing what you do best, House. Henry solves puzzles."

House's body grew tense—he had been listening, even though he tried not to show it. Emma shot forward, her hands gripping House's desperately. If not for her, then she just wanted him to understand for Henry's sake.

"House…he is your son," she insisted, eyes wide. "And that kid needs someone now. He doesn't just need his mother, because that I can give him. He needs a father." House suddenly turned his head back to her, as if waking from a startling daydream. He shook his hands free of Emma's.

"I want you to come back…to work for me," House abruptly proposed, taking Emma by surprise. She settled back in her seat, thinking.

She would've liked to take Henry away from here, to work as a doctor again in Princeton-Plainsboro…but at the same time, she knew Henry would not be happy with that idea. And if Henry was staying here in Storybrooke, then—

"I'm sorry, House. I'm staying here. I'm staying here with my son," she declared with finality. House frowned as that sank in. He seemed disappointed, as if he had gotten his hopes up that she would accept his offer. "Besides, you've got Thirteen, Foreman, Chase, and Taub. That's enough."

House was quiet a long moment. And then he nodded solemnly.

"I thought so, Cameron," he sighed, shoving his plate away. Apparently, his appetite was ruined.

"How many times have I told you to call me by my real name?"

House got to his feet, grabbing his cane. He shrugged and went as far as to lay a steady hand on her shoulder. It reminded her of that time when she'd been crying in the hospital's chapel, when she'd refused to assist House in ending a patient's life. I'm proud of you, he'd told her. Was he proud of her now, for what she was doing for her son?

"You'll always be Cameron to me." House squeezed her shoulder deliberately and she released a ragged gasp. He started to walk away, but snapped his fingers like he had just remembered something. "This might interest you." House dug out a slender object from inside his jacket and handed it to her.

Emma eyed it curiously and set it on the table. It was wrapped in a dishcloth, whatever it was. Slowly, she peeled back the cloth to reveal a strange-looking dagger with a jagged blade. But that wasn't the oddest part of it.

It was what was written on the blade that made her heart skip a beat. Her fingers traced over the smooth black letters. Rumpelstiltskin….

Emma whirled in her seat to ask House where he'd gotten it, but he was already gone.

House stepped into the snow and moaned as he saw his breath fog up in the air. This icy weather was going to kill his leg. God forbid if he found himself limping over a sheet of ice. The diner door opened and he casually moved aside to let whoever it was pass.

"Dr. House?" He turned to see that idiotic doctor—what was his name? Oh, right…Moby Dick—staring at him. House grumbled under his breath. What did he want? Anyway, there was no pinning it on Chase this time.

"If you're here to hug me goodbye, you'll be speaking through a mouth full of cane. Fair warning," he said, holding up his cane for emphasis. Dr. Whale eyed it cautiously.

"Um, no. That's not it. I couldn't help overhearing—"

"You mean eavesdropping," House corrected sharply. Dr. Whale nodded frantically. He averted his gaze nervously, scanning over everything but House. "I'm guessing somewhere around the time it became clear I slept with her."

"Right. If you want, I could…I could pull some strings at the hospital and get you a good job," he suggested, gazing almost sympathetically at House. For a moment, there was nothing but the snowy wind to fill the silence. House narrowed his eyes.

"And why would you do that, exactly?" Dr. Whale seemed exasperated by House's questioning. He shrugged dully and thrust his hands into his pockets.

"It would give you a chance to be with your son," Whale pointed out, a frown creasing his lips.

House suddenly pieced it together—this offer was stemming from guilt. Whale was obviously guilty about the tragedy that had occurred with Mary Margaret's miscarriage and this was a way for him to ease his conscience. Oh, if only Wilson were here to see this; he'd probably pat him on the back.

"Doing something good for someone else's son is not going to bring yours back. You're trying to find some way to fix it, but some broken things can't be fixed. It was a miscarriage—" Whale held up his hands in surrender, his body growing stiff. It was more from the displeasure of having these notions shoved in his face than the cold.

"I know. Maybe if I do this for Emma and Henry…maybe it'll clear away some of the things I've done to Mary Margaret," he said, confirming House's theory. Just then, the door to the inn flew open and his team came trudging along the walk. Time to go.

"Come on, House. It's cold and we're leaving," Chase called out as the team got assembled inside the car. House glanced at it and then back at Whale.

"It'll give you a chance to be there for Henry," Whale murmured to him. House's mind spun. He could easily get in that car, drive with his team back to New Jersey and the life he knew there. But life hadn't been so good lately.

Or, he could choose to stay with Henry, act as the father that he never had himself. A kid growing up without a father….well, it was tough. And then there was Cameron and the fact that he could very well have another shot with her. For the first time in a while, House had woken up happy, being beside Cameron.

"House, hurry up," Thirteen brought him back to reality, honking the horn. House made up his mind then and approached the car. Instead of getting in, he knocked on Thirteen's window and she rolled it down further so as to hear what he had to say.

House fidgeted with his cane—these kinds of moments he just wasn't good with handling.

"Alright, ducklings…you can go on without me," he said. Thirteen's face blanched and Chase exclaimed in surprise from the back seat. Taub leaned forward across the seat to peer through Thirteen's window.

"House, are you serious? This isn't the time for jokes. Get in," he said, motioning to the back seat. House shook his head, stepping away from the car.

"I'm staying. Foreman's already practically your boss, so you'll still keep your jobs. Just…tell Wilson…never mind, he'll understand. He'll probably call me later to gloat, but he'll understand," House said. And then he walked away with Dr. Whale and he was actually wearing a smile.

Emma found him at his castle, sheltered underneath the wooden roof while he scanned the pages of his leather-bound book, face scrunched in concentration. She watched him for a moment as he pored over a line in the book and then quickly sifted through for something else. You see, House? Henry does like solving puzzles.

What surprised her most was the pencil caught in his hand—henry was twirling it effortlessly through his fingers. It was the same thing House often did with his cane while he was deep in thought.

"What're you reading about today?" Emma climbed the rickety steps of the "castle" and brushed the snow off the ledge in order to sit down beside him. Henry glanced up, his face brightening. He dropped the pencil beside him.

"Just…coming up with some new theories. I'm trying to figure out who created the curse because I don't think it was the Queen," he said, flipping madly through the colorful illustrations. "I just can't find anything about someone making the curse."

Emma shrugged and remembered the dagger, which was rubbing against her chest from inside her leather jacket. She would show it to him, but there were more important matters now. Like Regina, who was sitting in a jail cell and listening to a drunken Leroy singing.

"Evil Queen or not…she poisoned Mary Margaret. You know what that means, right?" Henry paused in re-reading a piece of Snow White's story—ironically, it was the exact moment the Queen tempted Snow White with the apple. He gazed up at her, nodding.

"It means she really is the Evil Queen. It doesn't bother her because she's already tried it before…see? Only this time she was really trying to kill Snow White," Henry blurted out, tapping the page in front of him. Emma folded her hands in her lap and sighed. This was going to be harder than she thought.

"Henry, I mean do you understand what's going to happen now? Now that your adoptive mother is in custody for attempted murder?" Henry bit his lip and nodded again. His little fingers curled tightly around the book.

"It means someone else has to take care of me, especially if she's guilty. Which she is," he mumbled, staring off at the rolling waves of the ocean and further, to the town's clock with its working hands. Emma gently rubbed a hand across his back for comfort.

"What would you say…if I took care of you? If you could stay with me?" Henry's head shot up and his eyes widened with joy. He looked like she just told him it was Christmas Day. The book nearly fell out of his hands.

"That would be great! I could live with you and we could figure out Operation Cobra and the Evil Queen would finally lose…" Henry rambled on and Emma laughed softly. She would take that as a "yes." She supposed it was a good time to lay that other piece of news on him.

"Oh, kid…House gave this to me. I don't know where he found it, but I think you'll be interested in it," she hinted, pulling the dagger out from her leather jacket. Henry allowed her to place it in his palms so he could stare down at it. His eyes bugged as he mouthed the word written on the blade.

"Rumpelstiltskin," he whispered in wonder, running a finger over the black letters. Emma took the dagger back before Henry hurt himself with it. "But…he's not even in my book! Maybe he's someone powerful like…like…" Realization dawned on his face and he grabbed onto Emma's arm. "Like Mr. Gold!"

Emma's face contorted with doubt. Of all the theories, she'd been most intrigued to hear about this one.

"You think Mr. Gold is Rumpelstiltskin?" Henry nodded frantically, a smile stretching across his face.

"He is, I know he is! It explains why he wanted Ashley's baby and why he makes so many deals. I'll bet he was the one who created the curse, too!" Emma shook her head wistfully as Henry eagerly put the pieces together in his mind.

"Yeah, I guess so. Another question answered, right?" Henry suddenly glanced up at her with longing and worry. She would've given anything to put that bright smile back on his face. The kid is certainly growing on me. I'd do anything for him now.

"So, you're staying, right? You'll help me break this curse?" Emma pulled Henry in for a warm hug and rubbed the top of his head. She nestled her cheek in his hair and—for the first time—truly felt like his mother.

"Yeah, kid, I am. I'm here for you," she assured him, closing her eyes to savor this gentle moment. At last, she gradually leaned back. Perhaps it was for the sake of her son's fantasy, or perhaps there was some deeper understanding inside her that resulted in her next words. "So, how do we break this curse?"

Henry smiled and began flipping through his book again.

Someone kill me now, Regina Mills bitterly mused as she sat stiffly in the jail cell, beside a drunken Leroy. Her lips were pulled into a fierce pout and her hands were clenched tightly in her lap. Her eyes stared dead ahead as she struggled to block out the incessant, infuriating singing. Stupid dwarf.

"Ain't no sunshine when she's gone….it ain't warm when she's away…ain't no sunshine when she's gone…" Leroy leisurely sprawled across his cot, his head lolling against the wall. Regina's nails dug into her palms—she was going to really commit murder pretty soon. "Sweeeeet Caroline…bum, bum, bum…"

"Will you shut up with that horrible singing?" She snapped at him, her lips curling in a sneer. Leroy dully raised his head, his glassy eyes finding her in the next cell. Ruby should really consider banning Leroy from the diner. He's no use to anyone when drunk, least of all me.

"No way, sister. This is my happy ending," he slurred, a lazy grin creeping across his grizzly beard. Regina groaned as he opened his mouth again and hopelessly started another song that would never make it within one hundred feet of American Idol.

"'Cause the party don't start 'til I walk in…"

The End.

I've decided not to detail the whole "breaking of the curse" bit. I'll leave that to speculation and countless theories out there.

Poor Regina, having to sit there listening to Leroy. (-; I hope everyone who is reading this enjoyed it and I am so glad that you took the time to read it.

Le gasp! Only two more episodes for both of these wonderful shows!

Okay, so I haven't really been watching House that much this season, but I've heard plenty of things about what's supposedly coming up. Particularly about Wilson and his…diagnosis (don't want to say much because of spoilers). Say it isn't so! /= No, Wilson!

Anyway, thank you all for reading!

Feel free to check out some of my other OUAT stories as well—I'm currently working on a couple of them.