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Disclaimer: We do not own House, Chase, Cameron, Cuddy, Wilson or any other character you care to mention they belong to someone else. The following fict is a purely fictional based on the show however; it is not based entirely on the shows canon. The main fict starts one year before the show in 2003, although House has the full season one team.

Summary: This is a reworking of an old fiction we wrote many moons ago. We talked about the characters and where the story would eventually end a lot. It seemed time to go back and rewrite the story. This is an OC and House centric fiction. There is no romantic involvement and she is not his daughter. Please read and review.

Prologue:

Once upon a time, in a land where things were big, adults ruled and it was a sin to eat too many cookies before dinner, there lived a small girl. She lived with her Daddy who laughed lots, told jokes and smelled of peppermint and her Mommy who smiled, spoke softly and stroked her hair while she slept. She was a happy inquisitive child who liked to watch creation, drinking in everything she could see, touch, taste and smell as if afraid that she would miss a crucial moment. And from the first time her small bell like voice chimed out 'why?' demanding to know more from the world around her that just was her parents knew she would one day be destined for great things.

They were the centre of her entire existence and she was theirs, and for a time they were happy together but in the real world darkness is not always overcome by light and more often than not fairy tales, and those in them, must come to an end.

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October 12 1990.

It had always struck her in her long and arduous four years of life how annoying the wind was outside but not on the inside. As she lay amongst the blankets and soft downy pillows of the giant bed and listened to it howl angrily somewhere far off behind the huge red curtains, it came to her that the air inside was very still compared to its cousin.

The stillness did not frighten her nor did the dark of the room, for it was night time and night time was always dark...there was no point in being afraid of something that always happened. No, she was not afraid of the wind or the stillness, if anything they made her feel safer, warmer and oddly at peace.

She sat up under her covers and tilted her head listening. The howling of the wind seemed to be creeping into the house somewhere ruining the stillness, and an overwhelming need to get up and go see overcame her.

The soft pad pad of her feet in the hall carpet brought no one running to cart her back off to bed. She followed the corridor towards the room with the big chairs that smelled of Grandfather's aftershave and tobacco. Her eyes peered around the great oak door, her eyebrows contracting slightly at what she saw there.

Granny sat in a chair, hunched and shivering with her face in her hands as if she was cold. To her right Grandfather stood leaning on the mantle of the fireplace where she hung her stocking at Christmas for Santa. He looked like the cold marble of the fireplace itself, holding his pipe but not smoking it. The room was chilled despite the roaring fire that flickered behind Grandfather.

At the big bay window, the rain lashed relentlessly down obscuring the night in a veil of water and reflecting the room back in on itself. A clock chimed somewhere and she stopped to count. Ten....ten times it rang, was that very late?

She jumped as the ringing grew louder into a shriek and huffed a breath of relief and embarrassment when Grandfather stopped it simply by picking up the telephone.

"Yes this is he..." He rumbled around his pipe. His jaw worked as he chewed its end while he listened. That was odd; she could not ever remember him doing that before. Just as she was wondering why, his expression changed to one she could not place, one she did not have a name for and he spoke again.