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He's dying. He knows he is. As valiant as all of the efforts were, there is nothing modern medicine can do to stop his body from shutting down. And oh, had Cameron tried.
Now he has a room full of people taking turns telling him 'good-bye'. He swore he wasn't going to be emotional about it, and he isn't, until his son comes to visit. He'd been strong through his mother's tears and Cuddy's, even Cameron's, but when Gregory sits next to his bed, he feels the most incredible sadness and fear.
His chest tightens and he feels tears sting his eyes. Gregory doesn't say anything for a minute, neither does House.
Rather than wait, he breaks the silence himself. "Gregory, I want you to pray with me."
The young man blinks up at him. "You mean 'for' you," he says.
"No. With me." His voice breaks. That's never happened to him before.
Gregory nods. "Of course." He takes House's hand in his and bends his head. The prayer is soft and pleasant, except when House wheezes and cringes in pain.
House doesn't say anything, but lets Gregory pray; lets him say whatever he feels is right. When the boy is finished, House squeezes his son's hand. "Thank you."
"Are you repenting?" Gregory asks him, hopeful.
"Tell me how I do that." He squeezes Gregory's hand to get through the next bout of pain.
Gregory then spends the next hour talking and praying with House. Strangely, House feels warm and free when they are finished. He's happy - well, almost - and at peace with his life. He nods toward his shoulder. "Give me a hug, kid."
Gregory hugs his father tight. They are still in the embrace when Cameron returns.
"How're my boys?" she asks, trying not to cry.
"Perfect," House coughs and ruffles Gregory's hair.
Gregory smiles and takes his mother's hand. "He's happy now. He's going to heaven."
Cameron blinks. "He is?" She tries not to sound surprised, but she never figured House would dip a toe in religion, much less dive in head first.
"His soul, yes," Gregory nods proudly. "He's not afraid anymore."
She smiles and kisses her boy's temple.
"Hey," House coughs. "Can I get one of those?"
Tears sliding down her cheeks, Cameron gladly obliges him. The kiss is soft and warm on his lips and the last thing he feels before he finally slips away.
When Cameron realizes he's gone, she draws away and drapes the sheet over House's face. Gregory hugs her, supporting her with his solid frame.
"He's in a better place," he tells her in a voice that's soft, but confident.
She nods. "I know. And it's because of you."
Gregory shakes his head. "No. It's because he wasn't alone. Because of who he was. The support of his friends helped him realize he didn't have to be afraid. He didn't have to die alone."
Cameron rubs Gregory's back softly.
"He told me, when we were praying, to make sure everyone knew his father was wrong."
"About what?" she asks, confused.
Wilson steps into the room, sliding the door closed. "About dying a lonely old man. He wasn't lonely."
Cameron smiles and lets Wilson's arm curl around her waist. "No, he wasn't. Not anymore."