~Song~

House opened the photo album that lay on his desk. He figured that Wilson must have left it there for him as a Hallowe'en present…albeit a weird one.

Go and catch a falling star,

First, there was a picture taken at Wilson's graduation from med school. Three faces smiled back up at him: Wilson in a cap and gown, House in a tuxedo, and the future first Mrs. Wilson, Andrea, who would been dating House at the time that the photo had been taken. House turned the page.

Get with child a mandrake root,

Stacy's face smiled up at him next. In the background, a man played the piano drunkenly. House knew this because he had been that piano-playing drunk.

A tear dropped onto the photo, blurring his already-blurred form.

He turned the page before he would shed any more tears.

Tell me where all past years are,

Or who cleft the devil's foot,

Next was a picture he would rather not have seen, a picture of himself shortly after a PT session following the infarction. Even though he was in pain, sweat-soaked, gasping for air, House was still smiling for the camera.

'The wonders of morphine,' House thought to himself as he turned the page.

Teach me to hear mermaids singing,

Or to keep off envy's stinging,

The next picture had been taken on Dr. Allison Cameron's first day; she was laughing at something Wilson had said.

'Or was it something that I said?' House wondered as he turned the page.

And find

What wind

Serves to advance an honest mind.

House winced as his leg twinged painfully. He took his bottle of Vicodin out of his pocket and took two pills.

If thou be'st born to strange sights,

House grinned. The next picture was of a huge, cat-shaped tumor on the back of some hapless patient.

Things invisible to see,

Next was an ultrasound image of House's goddaughter. Yes, House was a godfather. Wilson didn't even know about her…so this album wasn't from Wilson then.

Ride ten thousand days and nights,

The next picture was of him astride his motorcycle, his cane in its holster. A teenage girl sat behind him, her arms wrapped tightly around his waist. Both wore helmets.

'Definitely not Wilson.'

Till age snow white hairs on thee,

The next picture was of House in a tuxedo at a high school graduation—his goddaughter's high school graduation.

Thou, when thou return'st, wilt tell me,

House wondered how Amanda was handling college life. He'd have to call Amanda's mother and get Amanda's new cell phone number from her.

All strange wonders that befell thee,

House smiled at the next picture. It was of Amanda and her high school sweetheart, Brandon.

And swear,

No where

Lives a woman true, and fair.

House hoped that Amanda and Brandon were still together. He'd have to ask Amanda when he called her.

If thou find'st one, let me know,

The next picture was of Amanda trick or treating, dressed as Dr. Frasier from Stargate SG-1. House still wondered what had happened to his lab coat.

He highly doubted that some kid dressed as the Grim Reaper stole it from her.

Such a pilgrimage were sweet;

Below the picture was a note from Amanda.

Yet do not, I would not go,

'Dear GH,' House read. 'The Grim Reaper was Brandon. ~Amanda'

Though at next door we might meet;

House grinned.

'That's my girl,' he thought.

Though she were true, when you met her,

Amanda was as much a virgin as House himself was.

And last, till you write your letter,

Yet she

Will be

False, ere I come, to two, or three.

House picked up the phone and dialed Amanda's mother's cell phone.

"Hello, Jesse. Could you give me Amanda's new cell phone number?"

~*~

A/N: I wrote this story about two years ago, in my English 12 class, after reading John Donne's poem "Song". I never wrote another story in which Amanda and her mother appear, but I might be convinced to do so if asked.