Sorry for the short chappie. Enjoy.
House and Cuddy are on the way to House's parent's house. They pull up to the house.
"Nice house." Cuddy says.
"Uh huh." House replies.
"Don't be so so nervous. Your parents will l’amour me."
"I just want toi to impress my mom. I don't give a damn about my father."
"Why not?"
"Because he's not my real father." He says then gets out of the car.
"Wait..what?" Cuddy says following him outside.
"We'll talk later." He says, then they go up to the door and knock. Blythe answers.
"Oh Greg, it's so great to see you. And you're Lisa Cuddy. Nice to meet you," She says then hugs both of them, "Come in."
As they walk in they see House's father, John, on the sofa.
"Hello Greg." He says.
"Father."
"I'm Lisa Cuddy." She says then shakes his hand.
"Nice to meet you. Are toi two hungry? dîner is ready."
"Let's eat." Blythe says.
After dinner, they are sitting in the living room and talking.
"I remember when Greg was a kid. He got into so much trouble, I had to give him a good lickin'." John says.
"Pfft, good." House murmurs to himself.
"I used to hit him just like this." John says then starts to hit House but stops inches away from his face. House flinches.
"Oh Greg. Don't be a scaredy-cat."
"Well, Mom this has been delightful, but we have to get going. Tomorrow we are visiting her family. And I need to rest." House says quickly trying to suppress his anger.
"Okay. I l’amour you." Blythe says as House and Cuddy go towards the door.
"Love toi too Mom." He says then leaves.
"What the hell happened back there?" Cuddy asks.
"That bastard!"
"What? I thought your father was fine."
"That's because toi don't know what he did to me." He replies.
"Don't be so melodramatic."
"I think I have the right to be dramatic when I've been beaten par my father."
"Your father beat you?!"
"Yeah. He wasn't even my real father and yet he had the nerve to beat me, and bring it up tonight!"
"Does your mother know?" Cuddy asks.
"Yeah, but it wasn't her fault."
"Did toi tell anyone?"
"No. Even if I did alert the authorities, they wouldn't believe me. My father had connections. He'd just say I was lying and they would let it go. Then I would get beaten even harder." House explained.
"I'm so sorry."
"I even thought about killing myself. But I wouldn't let myself do it because then I would be letting him win. I've been depressed my whole life. But when I met you, everything changed. I was able to live again and be happy. What was your childhood like?"
"My father died when I was 10. My mother criticizes everything I do, and always favors my sister, Julia, over me." Cuddy replies.
"I can't wait to meet them."
House and Cuddy are on the way to House's parent's house. They pull up to the house.
"Nice house." Cuddy says.
"Uh huh." House replies.
"Don't be so so nervous. Your parents will l’amour me."
"I just want toi to impress my mom. I don't give a damn about my father."
"Why not?"
"Because he's not my real father." He says then gets out of the car.
"Wait..what?" Cuddy says following him outside.
"We'll talk later." He says, then they go up to the door and knock. Blythe answers.
"Oh Greg, it's so great to see you. And you're Lisa Cuddy. Nice to meet you," She says then hugs both of them, "Come in."
As they walk in they see House's father, John, on the sofa.
"Hello Greg." He says.
"Father."
"I'm Lisa Cuddy." She says then shakes his hand.
"Nice to meet you. Are toi two hungry? dîner is ready."
"Let's eat." Blythe says.
After dinner, they are sitting in the living room and talking.
"I remember when Greg was a kid. He got into so much trouble, I had to give him a good lickin'." John says.
"Pfft, good." House murmurs to himself.
"I used to hit him just like this." John says then starts to hit House but stops inches away from his face. House flinches.
"Oh Greg. Don't be a scaredy-cat."
"Well, Mom this has been delightful, but we have to get going. Tomorrow we are visiting her family. And I need to rest." House says quickly trying to suppress his anger.
"Okay. I l’amour you." Blythe says as House and Cuddy go towards the door.
"Love toi too Mom." He says then leaves.
"What the hell happened back there?" Cuddy asks.
"That bastard!"
"What? I thought your father was fine."
"That's because toi don't know what he did to me." He replies.
"Don't be so melodramatic."
"I think I have the right to be dramatic when I've been beaten par my father."
"Your father beat you?!"
"Yeah. He wasn't even my real father and yet he had the nerve to beat me, and bring it up tonight!"
"Does your mother know?" Cuddy asks.
"Yeah, but it wasn't her fault."
"Did toi tell anyone?"
"No. Even if I did alert the authorities, they wouldn't believe me. My father had connections. He'd just say I was lying and they would let it go. Then I would get beaten even harder." House explained.
"I'm so sorry."
"I even thought about killing myself. But I wouldn't let myself do it because then I would be letting him win. I've been depressed my whole life. But when I met you, everything changed. I was able to live again and be happy. What was your childhood like?"
"My father died when I was 10. My mother criticizes everything I do, and always favors my sister, Julia, over me." Cuddy replies.
"I can't wait to meet them."
When does l’amour become something we need, rather than something we want? l’amour was seen as something special a long time ago. Now l’amour is what we are expected to have with us everyday of our lives. l’amour is common currency when toi are a teenager, but turns to worthless pennies the older toi get. Do we not care about the substance of what l’amour was and not what it has been made into today par commercialisation from American films and télévision commercials and soap operas? Only when we experience l’amour for real, can we commentaire and judge others who are in Love. l’amour means something different to everyone. Not two people’s feeling of l’amour is the same. Why do we generalize, rationalize and compartmentalize Love? l’amour is and will continue to be an enigma. Only a handful of people will ever unlock it and witness its true beauty and essence. The essence we all crave.
Love.
Love.
