Archive of Our Own

Stacy props the toddler on her hip. The girl's hair is curlier, her eyes a lighter shade of honey brown, but the straight nose, the stubborn chin--they're the same. She can't be more than four. House can do the fucking math.

He never wanted this, but it's like seeing Stacy's face for the first time, and it rips his chest open.

"Greg..." Stacy says. Before she finishes, Mark rolls in.

The girl wriggles to get down. She throws herself at Mark. He scoops her onto his lap. "Daddy!" she shrieks.

Apparently House's leg isn't the only thing Stacy took.