Jax

House so desperately wanted Lucas to shut up and stop talking. He wanted to walk away from this god-awful situation. And Cuddy was just sitting there, letting this guy run his mouth. It's a bit ironic since she always bites back at House for saying something stupid. She’s not even trying to stop Lucas. If she wanted, she would have told him to shut up and give that famous glare she always shot his way. 

He knew how Lucas worked and how airing out his problems was a way to rile him up. It’s a low-ball move, really. House is just waiting for him to mention his leg if Cuddy decides to share that information. She clearly doesn’t have a problem talking about his issues; why stop at his addiction? A shame, really, they could have been good friends. 

“I mean, I imagine having sex with women all the time. No big deal. Though I guess if they knew what I imagine, it could get awkward. And I guess it's different because in the fantasy, she was your savior. But I mean, that was months ago, right? All the work that you had to do to get straight- You've been institutionalized. You've had way bigger stuff to deal with.” 

Does this guy know when to shut up? House has half a brain to take his cane and-

“Will you shut up? Didn’t your mother teach you that if you have nothing nice to say, don't say anything at all?” Willson dropped his hands to the table, startling everyone. “Seriously, you wouldn’t be able to take the hint if it hit you in the face.” 

“Wilson.” Cuddy placed her tea down and gave him a look. House looked at Willson in surprise as well. 

“First of all, why do you know all of this?” He’s sure the team doesn’t even know the extent of House’s hallucinations. Willson shot a glare at Cuddy, then towards Lucas, pointing a finger at the guy. “And second, how dare you!” 

“Whoa, man, listen…” Lucas cowardly threw his hands up in surrender. Looking at Cuddy to see if she’d tell Willson to back off.

“Oh, don’t give me that innocent man's act, I see right through it. Heck, I’ve put up that act. Yeah, I see the problem… but this isn’t about ME. You may act like a clueless idiot, but behind that is all a calculated motive. You and I both know the end goal, so don’t even make me say it.” He took a deep breath, holding himself back from punching the guy. “Don’t you dare talk about something you weren’t even a part of. And don’t you dare rub my best friend’s issues in his face like that! You weren’t there, and you certainly weren’t involved, so keep your thoughts to yourself. I don’t care what you two are, and she had no right to tell you the extent. And you most of all certainly don’t have the right to voice it!” 

“Hmmm,”  House let out. Still surprised by Willson’s actions. Looks like he’s taking what he said to heart. House appreciated the gesture. 

“And you,” he turned to Cuddy. “I expect better from you. When House runs his mouth, you are quick to fight back. And it’s always been within reason. I’ve also seen you defend him multiple times for good reason, too. So why choose today to let it slide? Out of everyone, you’re letting this…this outsider go on about something he has no right to talk about.” Just thinking about that time when House was hallucinating and driving up to Mayfield had surfaced some unwanted feelings. The fear, worry, and sadness he felt knowing that his friend’s addiction had become so severe. “At least House doesn’t play the white knight savior act. Sure, he’ll find your weaknesses and manipulate you into facing them. But he doesn’t let them weigh you down. He makes you overcome them, no matter how unorthodox the methods may be.” Willson stood slowly, “This whole trip, we’ve been debating House’s reliability. He sure doesn’t do it enough to any normal human capacity, but he does it when it matters the most. And we… I’ve been too blind to see that.” He thought of Amber and the whole situation, a wave of sadness washing over him. He walked away from the table, leaving everyone in silence. 

“I should have brought a microphone for this encounter.” House stood up and turned towards Cuddy. “Congratulations, you made a great choice.” He quipped with obvious sarcasm. He tipped his imaginary hat and walked in the same direction as Willson. 

~~~~

The two sat in silence on the car ride back home. House stared out the window while Willson drove. House left the conference feeling conflicted, part of him wishing he hadn’t come. But he’s glad he did; he stopped Willson from making a mistake that would have put his whole career in jeopardy. 

House slowly turns his head to look at Willson. 

“You didn’t have to do that.” 

“Yes. I did. You’re my best friend, and he insulted you.” 

“I almost threw my cane at him.” 

“You would do the same anyway.”

“True.” 

“I almost hopped over the table to punch him,” he chuckled. “Gosh, what does she even see in him? Of course, I’m biased but still.” 

“He’s easy,” House admitted. “We may share similarities. But as you said, he plays the innocent white knight role. All push, no pull. He’ll take chances with no risk.” He sighs. “I should have called her back in college.” 

“It’ll be okay.” He reassures. “And if he ever says something like that to your face, I will punch him. He seems like the type of guy who should have been punched in the face long ago.” 

Bonus because how dare he mess with Chase:

Chase stormed into Cuddy’s office. His encounter with Lucas leaves a sour taste in his mouth. “I know Cameron, and I’s decision is out of the blue, but can you please leave others out of it?” Cuddy looked confused. Before she could speak, Chase started first, “Cuddy, I don’t know what you told your boy toy, but I don’t appreciate him trying to meddle in my life. I already get that enough with House.” 

Cuddy lifts a brow, “Dr.Chase, I’m not sure what you’re…” 

“You boy toy,” he said, putting an extra emphasis on the nickname, “is meddling in my affairs with the House. He’s snooped through my papers. Claiming the House’s team issues make you miserable, which makes him miserable. A little self-centered if you ask me...” Chase drew the last words under his breath, yet she heard every one of them.

She straightened, her voice turning firm.“I agree, Lucas shouldn’t be meddling in your decision.” She cleared her throat, letting her boss persona fade, “Listen, I know this is a difficult decision to make so quickly, but I think you should sleep on it.” 

Her Grief

It was just another night for Lisa Cuddy. She finally put Rachel to bed after a long day at school and was ready to unwind from the day. A glass of wine in one hand, a TV remote in another, cozy pjs, and a heated blanket. It took her a few months, but she was finally getting used to this new life. In this new place, she called home. One away from the workaholic lifestyle and even more dramatic coworkers. With the extra stress now gone, all of her muscles felt less tense. No more worrying about her hospital exploding or impending doom. Although part of her is waiting for it to come crumbling down- No, no, none of that. Save that for the next therapy session.

Rachel was adjusting well, too; she made new friends at school and loved visiting the nearby park. At first, Cuddy would be asked about House or the move constantly, but as time went by, Rachel asked less and less. Her heart ached at having to lie or stray from the truth to Rachel. How could she explain that the closest thing her daughter had to a father figure was insane, to say the least? He drove his car into the house and had him thrown in jail because she feared for their safety. Rachel adored the man, and she didn’t want to ruin that memory. At least not now, maybe one day she’ll discuss it. Let her keep that childhood innocence. Ciddy was thankful that hours were more consistent, so she got more time with Rachel and was off on weekends. Her life was normal. She wouldn’t have it any other way. Well… sometimes the nights become a little lonely.

*RING*RING*

Cuddy looked at her phone to see her sister calling. She raised a brow; they hadn’t spoken since she moved away. Curious, she picks up. “Julia? It's almost 10, what’s up?” She answers casually, unsure what to say.

“Lis, have you seen the news lately!” 

Cuddy groaned, “No, I just put Rachel to bed. Why?” 

“Just turn it on!” Her sister had never been this demanding. Was that panic she detected? Cuddy wasn’t sure; her brain was too fried from the long day she had.

“Ok, you’re scaring me,” Cuddy responded while searching for the news channel. When she found it, they were in the middle of telling a story. She read the caption, something about a building fire. One dead, no casualties… Something about the area being reported on looked familiar. She squints at the TV to see better. 

“Here we are outside an abandoned warehouse just a few miles outside of Plainsboro, which was mysteriously engulfed in flames earlier tonight. We haven’t been informed as to what started the fire. By the time first responders arrived, the building was ablaze. Only one casualty, according to authorities. They have released the name of the deceased, Dr. Gregory House. We aren’t sure if he was already deceased when the fire began or not…” The sound of the TV muffled while Cuddy stared deadpan at the screen. She felt like she was underwater, her entire body feeling heavy. 

“Lis?” Her sister tried to get her attention, but Lisa hung up and clenched the phone in her hand. Her hand shaking, knuckles turning white.

No. There was no way. No. No. No. No. The news had to be wrong. The way had to have gotten the wrong person. How? What do you mean they aren’t still in college, dancing around one another? 

She says she moved on. The car in her living room served as a wake-up call. Making her bury any care she had left deep down in the bottom of her soul. 

He can’t be dead. He’s House. Mr.Escaped death too many times to count. Her long-lasting fear came to light. Gregory House is dead. The words kept repeating in her mind. The man she worked with for years, bantered with, laughed with, and trusted. The man she once loved challenged her and made her stronger, her equal in some way. The man she wanted to be her sperm donor at one point. The one who brought her desk all the way from a storage closet she used in college. Someone who didn’t treat her daughter any less than her own. The one who… And when he…Her heart flinched at the memories flooding in all at once. Someone who understood her more than herself. Saw past her polished and collected exterior, making her stronger. Making her look forward to work, adding excitement over the endless piles of stress. Granted, he added to that stress but provided color in the dull walls. 

And now he’s gone, forever.

And she can’t identify what she’s feeling. Her mind began to race. Too many thoughts started to surface at once. She fell to her knees and stared at the ceiling. Feeling like the world was closing in on her, she couldn’t move her body.

*RING*RING*

Her phone buzzed again, immediately picked it up without looking at the caller ID. Hoping for a fraction of a second, it was House calling to tell her the news was wrong. That they got the wrong person. That he was still alive…

“Cuddy?” Her heart dropped at the voice, Willson. 

“D-don’t tell me,” she responded with a shaky voice. She was met with a deep breath taken on the other side.

“Yes. He’s gone.” He hears a sob followed by a scream. He winces, trying to fight his own tears. “I’m sorry,” he said. He quickly hung up. Her cries of pain sent a haunting chill down his spine. Part of him wanted to go to her, but he didn’t. Seeing her would only bring up the past again, and he couldn’t be reminded of that right now. Their friendship, their connection, their memories with House. Willson had to fight himself from ending it all right now. 

Cuddy cries herself to sleep that night. Breathing was a labor, each inhale heavy with grief. Every time she closes her eyes, she sees House. Her subconscious conjectures old memories scattered across time. She sleeps very little, afraid to close her eyes. Afraid to see him. Afraid to be reminded of what’s transpired. 

Cuddy dissociates throughout the entire morning. One moment, the sun is up, the next, her mother and sister arrive at her house. Surprised that they arrived so quickly, and aren’t sure how they found her new address. She never told them where she moved to; she thinks Willson may have informed them. Her brother-in-law took Rachel and her nephews out for ice cream while the women talked. 

Cuddy’s last words and actions kept replaying through her mind. He brought the good and bad in her. 

“I knew he would do something. It was only a matter of time.” 

She felt disgusted by those words. Looking back, that's how she justified his actions at the time. 

Why wasn’t she too surprised by his actions? He would never do anything to hurt her, not intentionally. At least she used to believe. He was a man in pain. A man who lost so much sanity because of it. He primarily pushed her away as a way of protection. Afraid she’d hate him for the same reasons he hated himself. Why couldn’t he just let her in? Had she always been waiting for something to happen? For him to finally snap. Did she unintentionally push him to his breaking point? Hoping he would do something so dangerous that there was no defense, and she could finally humble him? Teach him a lesson? Well, everyone wanted him to learn a lesson and change from it. Not jail nor nearly dying was enough. 

She loved him. She knew him almost as well as Wilson. Willson knows he wouldn’t do anything to seriously injure those he loves, so why- 

“How did we get here?” She mumbled to herself. Ever since that night of the car crash, all she wanted was for him to be out of her life. At least then he was still alive. But she didn’t want this. She should feel relieved, but there was an emptiness inside her heart.

A tapping at her shoulder brought her back to reality. Julia handed her a water bottle, gesturing that her eyes were all red and her skin was pale. 

“Have you told Rachel yet?” Her sister asked. 

No.

“I’m surprised she remembers him at all.” Her mother commented. “However,” her mother sighed, “He was the closest thing to a father figure she could have.”

“She’s asked less and less. I’m sure it's because I keep saying no or making up excuses.” Cuddy mumbled, trying not to grit her teeth. Every time Rachel asks, she tries not to cry. Always making up excuses and trying not to paint him as a bad guy. Then Rachel gets upset for a bit, she reassures her that he still loves her and that he is just very busy. Which is true to some degree. 

“I think you two should have reconciled,” Arlene commented. “Perhaps if you hadn’t pushed him away, he would never have done what he did.” Oh, how her mother kept reminding her of her failures in life. Ever since the move, Cuddy was reminded of her choices every time her mother visited. While Julia talked negatively, her mother took a different approach. 

“Yes, I wish we had reconciled. But not because you asked or forced us to work together.” She shot back, side-eyeing her mother. 

“Still as stubborn as always. The man is dead. You’ll never find someone as well fitting for you as him.” 

Cuddy HAD patience. Tolerated her mother’s comments even though they ate her alive. She never let anyone walk all over her but her mother… 

“Mother, he drove a car into her house in a fit of rage! If anything, you should be hating him as I do! He’s a psychopath! So there’s no need for that…” Oh, her dear sister. Her patience was crippled years ago. Julia herself got into Cuddy’s love life, triggering the domino effect of events that followed. 

“No, no, Jules, she’s right for once.” She took a deep breath, “Who would want someone as screwed up as me?” Cuddy seethed, anger boiling her blood. Her mother and sister were taken aback. 

“You’re not screwed up, Lisa, you’re just difficult.” Her mother bit back. The atmosphere in the room turned cold.

A smile tugged on the corner of Cuddy’s lips. “Yeah, you’ve said that before. I am stubborn. I am difficult. I am not “normal.” She held up air quotes. “I was never going to be a white picket fence housewife!” She remembered that conversation from years ago. The one her date had said to her when House bombarded her twice. 

“If both of you hadn’t pressured me to be normal, maybe I wouldn’t have broken up with House right after he relapsed. Maybe I would have addressed our problems sooner. Open up a conversation instead of pretending like our underlying issues didn’t exist. Also, I really didn’t appreciate you inserting yourselves into my love life. Wanting me to move on so quickly after a breakup and introducing a random guy into my already unstable life. If you hadn’t forced that guy into my life and I entertained him out of politeness, maybe I wouldn’t have had a car crash through my house! You know, House and I had a small conversation and moment together that could have given some closure, but no. And no, what he did was inexcusable, but if things didn’t happen the way that they did, maybe things would have ended better!” She lashed out. She screamed into her palms and cried. After the crash, Willson tried to explain, but she shut him out at the time. She wasn’t his to lose anymore. So much came flooding in at once, and her mind began to race again with what-ifs. Of course, his death would make her face everything she had been avoiding for so long. All of her underlying issues break through the walls she built since her childhood. And she couldn’t stop it.

“Now now, no need to start lashing out.” 

Cuddy’s sobs reverberated off the walls, causing the other two women to freeze. Julia reached, placing a hand on her sister’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Lis, I had no idea,” her sister apologized. 

Cuddy couldn’t bring herself to hate her sister; if anything, she was jealous. Jealous that her mother had a different connection with her mother. Jealous that she had a family, a husband who loved her. Julia had it easier, while Cuddy felt like she was battling the world. Envious of Julia’s normal life. But Cuddy was not Julia; she wasn’t and won’t ever be her sister. She was her own person, and her mother needed to accept that. 

When was the last time she cried? The breakup? She didn’t after the crash or after moving. Not after feeling stable for the first time. And not after hearing of his death. She refused to; however, it was only a matter of time before she would. Part of her was afraid Rachel would notice and begin to ask questions. If she saw any sign, she would ask, and Cuddy was afraid of what she’d say. How much she would let slip once the tears started flowing. 

Another part of her didn’t want to cry because why should she? She ended things; she hated the man. He was an addict, a liar, a hypocrite, a sociopath, and incapable of having any human decency. He tormented her, manipulated her, embarrassed her, and was overall unpredictable. Always choosing himself over others. Though he did everything to get answers for Willson after the bus crash with Amber. Why couldn’t he have given that energy to her? Amber was a puzzle to be solved, only leading to a tragic end. His memory was missing; of course, he would stop at nothing to solve it. 

She shouldn’t care that he died; she should be relieved and feel safe. Now he’ll never forcibly insert himself in her life again and drag her down. He was the reason she moved. The reason she quit her job. She shouldn’t care. Why does she care? Why doesn’t she feel happy or safe now that he can never come back into her life? She should feel… She should… But…Part of her still loves him and never stopped loving him. She loves him just as much as she hates him. He had always just been a part of her life, so it’s weird to not just imagine a world without him but live in one too.

“We were happy. Blissfully ignorant of our clashing personalities. We were trying, but not enough. I told him he didn’t need to change, that I loved him for him. It wasn’t a complete lie, but I still wanted him to be a decent human being. He did try to change, in little ways. He had his moments. He could be selfless, but he was more selfish. In my moment of need, he wasn’t there. He needed me, too; however, I was there a lot more than he was for me. Two stubborn people who are unable to break old habits for one another. Two broken people who never succeeded in relationships. It was a recipe for disaster. Given different circumstnaces we might have worked. What I wanted was something he could never give. Now that he’s gone its set in stone.”  

She was aware of his demons and how they could not be slain so easily. Not in a timely manner that would ever suit her unrealistic standards. She wasn’t looking for perfection, at least that’s what she told herself. Then, what was she looking for? Perhaps something unachievable in the reality that she lived in.

She needs someone who will show up for her. Not just her, but Rachel as well. Someone who will show up for both of them constantly. She wanted stability; was that too much to ask for? Communication, honesty, and selflessness. These were fairly normal things; she truly believed that he could do those things. If they had more time, perhaps…no. He was too stubborn and set in his own ways. In ways, she wasn’t entirely better either, but this is about him, not her. However, she was never going to have a normal relationship with him. She was bad at life just like him. She wanted something normal, a relationship like others had. If she could succeed in this relationship, maybe she wasn’t a lost cause, too broken a person. Rachel was a symbol of her life. Her struggles tested her, and she almost gave up, but it worked out in the end. So why couldn’t this relationship work out? If they had more time and everything didn’t implode-

“Where is all of this coming from, Lisa?” her mother asked, not in a condescending way but with genuine curiosity. As if her mother isn’t the cause of a lot of her unresolved problems growing up. That nagging voice in the back of her head, it was always her mother. The one person she never truly stood up to. 

“I was never going to have a ‘traditional marriage’ and be a ‘traditional wife’. That’s all you ever talked about growing up. And don’t get me started on your religious views about ‘traditional Jewish women’. You know it’s crazy because I should want the ‘picket fence lifestyle’, right, mother? That’s all you ever wanted and ingrained in my head. But guess what, that isn’t who I am! I’m not some settle down with 2 children, a white picket fence, a dog, and a stay-at-home mom. No offense, Julia.” Cuddy apologizes, quietly realizing how that came off as an insult. “House and I are not normal people, and we were never going to be a normal couple.” 

There was no one else more suited for her. No matter how good they looked on paper. No matter how much she should want someone who looks good on paper. No one on earth could fulfill her unrealistic and impossible standards because they simply didn’t exist in someone. In the end, no man could ever compare to House. And that was her person. There was only one house.

A sob broke out, and she wrapped her arms around herself. She rubbed her eyes and looked her mother in the eyes. “All of my life, I had been second best. I wanted your approval. If I had just found the perfect guy, one who wouldn’t play mind games. One who was easy, stable, simple, and predictable. Someone who did not challenge me would rather dull me. But that’s the thing, mother, relationships aren’t supposed to be rainbows and sunshine. There is going to be conflict, challenges, and chaos. Instead of ignoring the issues or running away, you face them head-on. I worked hard to get where I am. I like to take charge and solve conflicts. I will never have normal relationships because I never learned how. I focused on myself and my career, but never on how to have normal and healthy relationships with people. So I don’t care, mother, I don’t want your approval. I don’t NEED it anymore. If you can’t accept me for who I am and the life I live, you don’t deserve to be a part of it.” All the pain escaped her at once, her chest caving under the weight of it all. 

Her mother pulled her in an embrace, leaving both Cuddy and Julia stunned. “Lisa,” she said in a voice she had never heard her mother use. Was it comforting?

Cuddy cringed, “What are you-” 

“I meant it when I said you two are idiots. I knew when he brought you your old desk. I had never seen such dedication since your Father. You’re like him in a lot of ways, you know. Strong-headed, hard worker, fierce, and a loving parent. 

It’ll hurt Lisa. It’ll hurt for a long time. You’ll be riddled with guilt, wondering what you could have done better. Replaying your last words. You’ll overthink, psych yourself out a couple of times. Everything you think and do will remind you of him. Then you’ll wish you could take it all back. Desperately wishing for one last moment to apologize.”

Cuddy cut her off, “What are you trying to say?” Receiving a light smack on the shoulder.

“Stop interrupting and listen.” She placed a kiss upon her head. “You grieved your father quietly and alone. I’m telling you not to bury it and be open. You don’t have to grieve alone for the rest of your life. Share it with Rachel, she’ll understand. She’s a Cuddy after all.” Her mother was right again, weird right. She should not shield her daughter from his death. 

“I’ve had relationships with guys that I thought I should. Because on paper, they’re what you’re supposed to be with. But who you are really, truly attracted to is not something you can actually decide.” Cuddy whispered loud enough for the two to hear while she cried in her mother’s arms. Fully embracing the reality that House was gone. And he was never coming back. 

After some tears and hydration, Cuddy started to feel a lot better. Her mind is a little clearer. She was ready to break the news. Julia texted her husband that it was time to come back. Rachel returned with a smile on her face, and Julia and Arlene left to give her some one-on-one. 

But before leaving, Arlene had a question: “Have you ever asked him why?” 

Cuddy raised an eyebrow in confusion, assuming she meant the car crash. “Let’s not bring that up right now.” 

“I am not referring to THAT. I’m referring to.” She made a pill-popping hand motion. 

“Mother…” The tone of her voice was sharp enough to cut paper. 

Her mother’s words repeated in her head from months ago, “He’s an addict. There was always a chance of him relapsing.” Back then, she thought her mother was just being condescending again. Now understanding those words in a new light. 

“I’m serious. Did you ever ask him why? Truly. Let him open up and have a deep conversation with no interruptions.” Arline walked away, leaving the two alone to talk. 

“This doesn’t mean you can just show up in the future unannounced, you know!”

No, she thought. She debated bringing it up after his self-surgery but refrained. House also kept deflecting when she wanted to talk seriously. Again, after the crash, she didn’t care or want to know. In a fit of blind rage, all she saw was his inability to cope without drugs. Rationalizing his philosophy of “people don’t change,” his relapse was proof. Instead of breaking up for any of the other reasonable underlying issues, she chose to pin it on one pill. Now, with a clearer mind, she came to the conclusion how stupid and narrow-minded she was. Oh god, she really said, “How did I make myself forget for months that you’re an addict” to his face. He was a recovering addict, keyword recovering. Wishing now she could take it back, it was such a low-ball insult. He had put his body through years of pharmaceutical abuse; the habits were still ingrained in his brain and body. Altering the very chemistry of his entire being. Of course, “stay sober” was much easier said than done. She was a hypocrite, holding his pain against him. His relapse was not as simple as “a moment of weakness”. It was so much more complicated and complex than that. 

How on Earth had she forgotten about the night they got together? He was literally about to take Vicodin after a patient whose story hit so close to home. How he almost relapsed, had she gotten there any later. If she was too late and he had already taken the pill. Would they have even gotten together? How could she have forgotten this? When will her memory become so bad? Was it from pushing so much aside? Did the honeymoon phase seriously cloud her mind that badly? Forgetting at that moment that addicts can relapse. And all of the little changes he made for her. How much pressure was he under to be a better person for her? Making her seem like she wasn’t really all in and just waiting for one slip-up to use as an excuse for an escape. 

When their love was unspoken, it was hard enough to watch him go through every near-death experience. How many had it been? Two heart attacks, nearly OD’ing, a bus crash with a cracked skull, electrocution, being shot twice, a hostage situation, surgery on himself, random experimental drugs, and years of pharmaceutical drug abuse. If she lost him when they were together…she wouldn’t survive… and House was no different. Every near-death experience hurt her to witness. But switch the roles…of course, it was much more terrifying for him than it was for her. 

She likes to think she’s beginning to understand how hard it was for him to be there and why he relapsed. She can only speculate, as the two never fully discussed it. But at the same time, he never asked her to be by his side, but she stayed. After all, she had sat by his hospital bed too many times to count, yet he was apparently incapable of reciprocating. Why couldn’t he do the same? He owed her as much, especially since they were together. If they weren’t, she wouldn’t have expected anything from him. In a way, he was there; it would have hurt so much if he weren’t. 

“Ughhhhhh,” she groans into the palms of her hands. 

Her daughter's voice pulled her out of her thoughts. “Mama, why are you crying?” 

She lifted Rachel into her lap and spoke in a soft tone. “Do you remember what I said about my father, who is no longer with us?” 

“Yes. You said he died. He’s with the angels.” She responded innocently. 

“Well… House is also with him. He died last night.” Rachel’s face saddened, and Cuddy’s heart tightened with sorrow at the sight.

Rachel loved him dearly. There was no way she could ever ruin the memory of him now or ever. Cuddy would let her remember him as the man who always made time for her. The man who didn’t treat her like a child. The man who was like a father to her. Because that is who House was.

“So, he’s no longer in pain?” He tried to hide the pain, but Rachel was very observant. Thankfully, she never pried too much and understood it was a sensitive subject. She was there the night he cut open his leg. While Rachel was concerned for his health, Cuddy prayed she didn’t get a glimpse of the gruesome image. 

“That’s right, sweetie. He no longer has to worry about his leg pain.” 

Not a day went by that she didn’t feel responsible for his pain. Always wishing she could go back in time and respect his wishes rather than go against them. He lived, but at what cost? He never forgave Stacy for taking his choice away and going ahead with the procedure. However, Cuddy was to blame as well; she was his doctor and went forward with the surgery. If he got better on his own, would he have no pain? No pain meant no addiction. No self-experimentation, out of desperation, he performed too many. No ketamine treatment to taunt him with what he could have or what he used to have. He never blamed her. Why?

Rachel curled into Cuddy’s lap and rested her head against Cuddy's chest. “I wish we could have seen him one last time.” 

“I know, baby. Me too.” 

“You want to know how I feel. I feel hurt.” 

When Cuddy went to bed that night, she cried herself to sleep again. Years of memories resurfacing, tugging at her heartstrings. The guy she met in college died years ago; he died the night of the infarction. What was once sky blue eyes filled with light turned to an ice-cold gaze, a broken soul from constant pain. He had his moments here or there, but a darkness slowly consumed him over the years. 

She thought of how House used to be when he was with Stacy. Cuddy was jealous of them, not knowing it at the time, but subconsciously, she was. Eve felt a twang of jealousy towards Cameron, who had the guts she didn’t have to ask him out. She wanted him to look at her like he did with Stacy. When they were together, he looked at her differently than he ever did with Stacy. Cuddy could see years of longing for her in his eyes. A want that he had in college resurfaced when they finally got together. The joy she remembered from years ago flickered back to life, and the man she had known returned. Even if it lasted for only a moment, it was something that she had yearned for nearly twenty years. And would yearn for many more. 

He used to have such spirited eyes. As time passed, she watched as the familiar spark disappeared. Like a dying star, it started slow, then all at once. What took its place was distant and cold, a void as deep and unforgiving as space itself. She liked to believe the man she loved was still there, just buried deep in the depths of his soul. A place where neither she nor Wilson could reach. A place only he could reach.

When House married Dominika, Cuddy saw the eyes of a man who was forcing himself. She wasn’t happy, and neither was he. No matter how hard he tried to fool everyone, he couldn’t fool her. 

She wondered over and over what would have happened if she objected. But instead, she ran away like usual, and she hated herself for it. Hating herself for letting it get to her. Seeing him with someone else brought up that old jealousy. She was also envious of the fact that even though the marriage wasn’t real, he had “moved on” so quickly. How on earth did he get married before her?! She felt like a fool, allowing herself to imagine their wedding together. Her standing by his side in a white dress… Again, how in the universe did he get married before her?! Even though he didn’t truly want the marriage that was the end, she could never get him back. Yes, she ended the relationship, but still, that was it. That was life. Both left unhappy and unsatisfied in the end. 

She let herself imagine and dream, in a white dress at the altar. One day, but that day would never come. For she only imagined House standing beside her, hands intertwined.

1 week later 

Her Head

Cuddy heard screaming; it was a familiar scream, one she had heard plenty of times. She tried to open her eyes, but they wouldn’t, the screams of agony pierced her skull. Next, she smelled smoke, forcing all of her energy into opening her eyes. First thing she saw was a dirty curling, light from flames trickling the edges, and smoke trying to escape. She coughs a few times, forcing herself to sit up quickly. She scans the rim for the source of the screams, to her right in the middle of the room. Her heart sank to the floor. She spots House lying on the floor in a pool of blood. She rushes to his side and checks his pulse; it's weak. She scans his body to see there are multiple open wounds, too many for her to put pressure on. Open gun shots, a cracked skull, burn marks, and an open leg wound. Her adrenaline began to rush, and a familiar panic began to surface. 

Cuddy holds House’s head on her lap and places her hands on the sides of his face. She fights back the tears in her eyes, “House!” He groans, eyes squinting, and his breath heaving. “House!” She shouts again. His breathing lowers, his heart slows. “HOUSE, please,” she begs. Instead of cracking a joke about her begging, he remains quiet. She squeezes her eyes shut, letting the tears fall. Her chest hurts, her heart shattering in an instant. The world goes silent, the cracking fire dies down, and the smell of smoke airs out. 

When Cuddy opens her eyes, she’s standing in a room with a large window. She’s suddenly standing in a surgery observation room. She turns to see someone being cut open, squinting, and she sees it's House on the operating table. Chase is removing something from him; she spots a small item between tweezers that he sets down on a table. The gunshots and the Ketamine treatment, she remembers. She remembers the worry and fear of House being shot at twice. Alarms start ringing, and the sound of a flatline makes her skin crawl. She rushes downstairs, and the surgeons are already trying to resuscitate House. Electricity and chest compressions are repeated a few times, but his heart doesn’t start to beat. He’s gone, and she’s too late. The room goes quiet and dark. 

When she opens her eyes, she’s in her office. Dr.Volakis burst through the door and explained how House had electrocuted himself. How he had asked her to be in his office under a false pretense, and she found him already on the ground. She attempted CPR until help arrived, but he never responded. Cuddy rushed out the door and headed to his office. By the time she reached the room, House was already on a stretcher with a cloth covering his body. She falls to her knees and cries once again. 

Next thing she knew, she was already trying to perform mouth-to-mouth resuscitation on House. Remembering, House had taken medication to open his mind, with the side effect of going into cardiac arrest. Willson is pounding on his chest. She’s reminded of the fear of losing him; his heart had stopped. Only this time, it stopped permanently. Cuddy and Willson tried longer than they should, but House never took a breath. Her cries filled the bus as her associates started to cry themselves. 

Why? Why was she experiencing this? 

The next thing she knew, the world had gone dark again. But this time she felt warmth. She heard his breathing. She opens her eyes and finds herself curled up on a hospital chair. Next to House’s sleeping body, bandages wrapped around his head. Her hand is holding his, squeezing tightly in fear. And then he opens his eyes, she stands and moves closer to him. Relief flooding through her. Reassuring him it’ll be alright, and she’s here. Telling him to rest. House closes his eyes, and his heart stops once more. 

No. No, please no more. 

She’s outside her office, and the hospital entrance is swarmed with swat units. Supplies in hand, she moved towards her office doors. The door gently opens tothe  House. She deviates from the memory and holds his hand in a death grip, trying to pull him out of the room. Screw everyone inside, she knew they weren’t real. Even when the event happened, she wanted to pull him out, how cruel of her. Instead, he yanked his arm back and slammed the door in her face. She pounded her hands against the locked door, shouting for House to stop and for him to be let go. In a nightmare fashion, a gunshot rang out, the door swung open, to him lying on the floor with a bullet through his chest. Gasping for air, she rushed to his side and held pressure. Begging and pleading that he hold on. Continuing the nightmare, it looks as if he’s going to say something, then dies in her arms. Tears of anger fall from her face. She knew he was going to die, and deviating from the memory would end the same. Sure, events didn’t end like this, but it didn’t hurt any less to watch it happen, even if it wasn’t real. Right?

Why? 

She’s in House’s office once again. Willson kneels down, checking for a pulse. Kutner and Foreman rush into the room. Foreman tries to wake him up, but it doesn’t work this time. Kutner calls for backup. Willson and Foreman lay House on the ground and start CPR. Worry floods Cuddy, knowing how this’ll end. The team tries CPR with no success. Five minutes later, help arrives, and they try to jumpstart, but they are too late. He never takes a breath, and his heart never beats. 

Please. No more. My heart can’t take it anymore.

She’s in her office, Willson standing on the other side of her desk. He tells her House had passed from a self-induced insulin shock. She shoots up from her desk, asking why, but she already knows the answer. House was hallucinating and wanted them to disappear. Her hands grip her desk, resisting the urge to sprint out of her office. But she doesn’t, she sits down and closes her eyes. Silently begging for this nightmare to end. Once again, the world goes dark. 

This time, when she opens her eyes, she’s outside his door. Rachel was by her side. She enters the apartment and tells Rachel to wait in the living room. Knowing what’s going to happen, she takes a moment to prepare herself for the harrowing sight. She makes her way to the bathroom and sees the bloody mess. House is lying in the tub, pale and shivering, his body shaking, and desperation in his eyes. The sight is somehow more terrifying than when she saw it the first time. Her blood running cold, and shivers being sent down her spine. She felt nauseous at the sight just like before. The same events happen with no differentials. He makes it to the hospital and is sent into surgery. Things go south in surgery. She’s in the observation room when he flatlines. She and the other surgeons try to save him. Once again, they are unsuccessful, and he dies. He lost too much blood. Each inhale burned, her body trembling from crying too hard.

Again. And again. And again. And again. No more, PLEASE!

Once again, Cuddy is brought back to the surgery room, this time on the operating floor. She eyes the room to see House on the operating table once again. This time, his leg is being operated on, with retired surgeons working on him. Her stomach dropped, the infarction. Her years of guilt resurfaced faster than the car that blew through her house. Like every nightmare scenario, he flatlines. Out of all the memories, this is the most terrifying. Her heart is beating miles a minute, her hands are shaking, and she’s hyperventilating. She tries to bring him back, over and over again. Failing once again. She holds him. The sobs echo, and tears fall. Her heart drowned in despair. Her lungs felt like they were folding in on themselves. 

When she opened her eyes, she was standing in his place. Cuddy is standing in his living room, off to the side. She sees another her standing in the doorway, House facing her with a look of desperation on his face. The other Cuddy’s hand is on his face, stroking his cheek. 

This night… oh no.

“No. No, no, no. Don’t. Don’t.” She watches House beg. 

The other Cuddy replies, “I thought I could do this.” 

“Please don’t,” House begs. Cuddy, in the living room, starts to shake at the sight. The pain and regret resurfaced.

“Goodbye, House.” The other Cuddy walks away, leaving House devastated. 

Cuddy drops to her knees, letting her sobs out. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, House. I didn’t mean it. I was just angry and wasn’t thinking…” 

“Stop crying.” House turns to her, leaning against the wall.  

“House,” her voice trembles, and she reaches a hand out. 

House holds his free hand up, making her stop. He stares down at her, looking at her with that serious stare she’d seen multiple times. “Stop feeling sorry for yourself. And stop trying to save me. None of it was your fault.” He walks closer to her. 

“Yes, it is,” she wipes the tears from her eyes. “I signed off on the surgery against your request. I played with your feelings. I downplayed your pain. I hurt you.” 

“Cuddy,” he kneels down easily and cups her cheek, “that man you knew before died, the moment the aneurysm hit. And I kept killing any chance of him coming back. I got what I deserved.” Broken and alone. “Seriously, I’m surprised it took this long to die.” 

“I’m sorry,” she threw her arms around him and pressed her face into his chest. 

“Don’t, please.” He reciprocated, rubbing his hand across his back. His voice had changed, no longer the gruffness of someone who was exhausted. Cuddy looked up to see the face of a man she met many years ago. With a warm sky blue gaze and behind them, a soul filled with life. “Lisa, please…let me go.” 

“House, no, please. Don’t leave me.” She squeezes, afraid he’ll disappear any moment. “I-” 

Don’t, his eyes seem to say. Stopping her from saying something he knew. Because if she did, it would make it so much harder for her to let go. “I know you wish you could have done things differently. How has that guilt and regret kept following you? Please, let it go. Let go of the pain; it’ll only keep hurting you. Don’t let it destroy you. So Lisa, I beg, let me go.” He paused, “And live. Do what I couldn’t.” 

She held on for a little bit longer before letting go. When she stands, she stretches to give him one final kiss. It’s filled with passion, love, and sorrow. 

Their heads lean against one another for a moment, his hands rest on her waist. “Take care of Rachel. I’m sorry I won’t be there to see her grow up.” 

Cuddy reluctantly walks away, moving slowly toward the door. As she walks, the walls start to burn, shifting into an unfamiliar room. She stops at the exit and looks back. Seeing two familiar figures standing behind him, ready to follow him in death. They were ready. They had been waiting. And Gregory House was ready. 

Her eyes meet his for a final time. “Goodbye, Greg,” she whispers, wearing a sad smile. 

House stands in the center of the room, looking her way. He’s smiling, there’s love in his eyes. Cuddy takes a deep breath and leaves the building, shutting the door behind her. Behind her, she heard the sounds of his final breath, the fire simmering, the smoke clearing. She listened to him exhale for the last time, and with a final shuddering sob, the room fell silent. After a long, mournful silence, she wakes from her slumber. 

Perhaps she should lay off the sleeping pills. 

~~~~

Cuddy paced back and forth in the living room. Contemplating going to the funeral service. For starters, she was afraid to see her old coworkers; she hadn’t spoken to anyone since she left. Then there was House’s mother, god only knows what she thinks of her. The woman with a heart of ice broke up with him right after his relapse.

She could feel the anxiety creeping up, and she fidgeted with her hands. “C’mo,n Lisa. You’ve held people’s lives in your hands. You held his life in your hands; you can do this.” She groaned, not convinced by her own words either. She rushed into the bathroom and spoke to her reflection. “You need to see it for yourself. You got what you wished for and finally move on with your life- GAH! Stop.” She held her hands up and ran them through her hair. “You wanted him out, but not like this. I don’t even believe myself. Stop running away, Lis! You let fear and insecurities control you for too long. You lied to him; you did want him to change. You wanted something he could not give you overnight. You wanted stability from a man who had just started to learn how to cope healthily. And all you did was raise your expectations while not improving yourself. You pushed him. His leg twice, and then his heart. He would never hurt with intent; he pushed away with intent. It killed him, yes. I loved him, and he loved me. He loved Rachel and would never do anything to hurt her. He was so good to her. If only we had more time.” Maybe she should have a drink, anything to shut her mind up for a few minutes. “Sigh. How did we get here? When did we grow up? What happened to those two kids in college?” Cuddy touched up her makeup, got Rachel, who was waiting by the door, and left the house. 

The two arrived at the church very early; only a handful of cars were in the parking lot. Cuddy felt it odd that the service was in a church, House being an atheist and all. She quickly reminded herself that it was most likely his mother who had chosen the venue. 

She paused at the door for a moment and glanced down at Rachel, who held her hand beside her. 

Rachel squeezed Cuddy’s hand, “You can do this, mama.”

Her lips curled in a smile, and her eyes softened. “When did you become so brave?” She took a deep breath and prepared herself. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. She repeated in her head.  

“Uncle Willson!” Rachel shouted and raised her arms. 

Willson picked the girl up in an embrace. “Look at you. You’ve gotten bigger since the last time I saw you.” Cuddy and Willson spoke very little since the incident. He wished her luck on her move, and they hadn’t spoken since. 

“Where have you been? I missed you.” 

“I missed you, too, sweetie. There’s someone else who would like to see you.” He turned, all three of them facing House’s mother standing by her son’s urn. 

She turned to the three of them, and a sad smile formed. She approached the three with her arms stretched out. “How is my little girl doing?” Willson handed Rachel off. 

Rachel placed her hand on the side of Blythe’s face and wiped away her tears. “Don’t cry, Nana. No more leg pain like mama said.” 

“Oh dear. I feel better just seeing your little face.” She turned to Cuddy, and a warm sadness settled over her face. “Lisa.” 

“Blythe.” She said hesitantly.

“It’s been too long.”

She felt awkward; it was hard to keep eye contact. So many emotions arose. “It has. I’m so sorry,” she admitted softly.

“Where is he?” Rachel butted in. Cuddy thanked the intrusion for breaking the awkward tension.

“You see that urn in the center over there.” She turned her body and faced the back of the room, “He’s over there. Umm, Lisa, are you coming?”

“In a minute.” Cuddy flicked her hand. “You two go on.” 

“Before you go, I have something to give you.” The two walked off, leaving Cuddy and Willson alone.

He turned to face her, “I’m glad to see she’s doing well. She’s gotten bigger.”

“Yes…” She paused before speaking again, “How are you?” 

“Horrible.” Cuddy is startled by his uncharacteristic response. “He was my best friend.”

She could see him holding himself back from saying more. There was pain in his eyes, as though he had witnessed something harrowing. She didn’t press him, instead gave her condolences. “I’m so sorry, James.”  

“His poor mother. No parent should have to bury their child.” He deflected. 

“You’re right.” She bit her lip before speaking again, “What are you going to do?” Part of her was curious to know what Willson was planning to do next, while another part of her was simply deflecting. Would he leave as he did with Amber? Only this time, he doesn’t have a reason to return to PPTH. 

“I’m not sure.” He said cautiously. 

“If you want to talk, I’m here.” She assures,  “Maybe you can stop by some time, I’ve missed my friend.” 

There was a shift in his tone, “Thank you, Lisa. I’d like that too, but…. I won’t be around for much longer.” 

“What do you mean?! If you’re feeling suicidal-“ she jumped to conclusions. 

He raised his hands in defense, “It’s not that.” He took a deep breath before speaking, “ I’m dying, Cuddy. Doctors say I have 5 months to live.”

“What- are you sure?” She ventured carefully.

“Yes. I had House double-check as well. ‘Ironic that the oncologist has cancer,’ he said with his usual sarcasm. So looks like he and I won’t be separated for too long.” 

It felt like he just threw a brick at her. Tears fell quicker than she could catch them.“Willson, I am truly so sorry.” She threw her arms around him in a tight embrace. Silently cursing at life for throwing such a change and forcing her hand. “Why not stay? You have Rachel and I. As well as Chase and Foreman.” 

“As much as I’d enjoy the company, I can’t. I won’t spend my last months lying in a hospital bed. Waiting to die and live a year, if I get that,  in excruciating pain. Having to watch everyone around me witness me in such a state. I don’t want everyone’s last memory of me to be that. 

I thought about ending it. I had some plans.” He paused, remembering his conversation with House. “When I told House, he pulled a knife out. Ready to kill me right then and there. All I had to do was ask. And he would have done it. But he wouldn’t have, not unless I truly meant it.” He let out a small chuckle, looking up at the stained glass in the ceiling. 

Cuddy listened and was not surprised at all by House’s actions. She knew he wouldn’t have done so without Willson’s absolute certainty. 

“Even if I asked and was completely serious, I couldn’t ask him to do that. I couldn’t put that on what little conscience he had. The guilt would be too much.” His gaze softened. Heart aching knowing that House was still guilt-ridden from Amber. Kutner. Hanna. Cuddy knew they all continued to haunt him, especially Hanna’s. “I spoke with Thirteen and reflected on our situations. I’ve concluded that it’s not fair. I get a timer, an estimate on when I will certainly die, while he didn’t. I’m going to find something. I’m going to do anything but sit in a hospital bed waiting to die. I won’t speed up my death. Many times I wished for House to be gone from life, I guess I get what I asked for.”

She stepped closer to him, placing her hand on his heart. “Wherever you end up and whatever you do. I hope you find happiness.” 

He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck, “Also, if I stay and spend my last few months with you two, it wouldn’t be fair to House. As weird as that sounds.” Why should his best friend spend time with the one he loved and the child he adored in his final moments when he couldn’t? “We were planning on climbing an 8,000ft mountain, could you believe that?” Willson laughed at the memory, trying to lighten the mood. “Could you imagine that?” They both shared a laugh at the thought.

Placing her hands in her pockets, she stood on the balls of her heels.“I have a few questions that've been eating away at me. I apologize if I sound very selfish, but you’re the only one who’d have an answer. I may have an idea of what they are, but you’d be confirming my suspicions. Plus, you seem to know us better than ourselves, so please, enlighten me.” 

He signed, “Always with the heavy topics, fine, I’ll answer. I believed relapsed because he was extremely terrified. Knowing House, there’s one big reason and a hundred sub-reasons. He worked so hard to be the best version of himself for you and was very happy. That pressure plus your health scare would be a lot for a normal person; for him, it was so much more. It wasn’t just a health scare. You’re both doctors, and there was nothing you could do but wait. He tried to stay strong, he did. Also, did you know that trauma makes itself known when someone feels safe? So I’m not too surprised he felt like the world was coming to an end. Sigh. He fought many battles alone; there were a few that even I couldn’t help because he shut me out. 

I love you both, but you two are equally stubborn. Too stubborn to admit your faults and talk to one another to resolve your problems. Also, both of you let your fears take control, shutting everyone out or pushing them away. Falling back to what you were used to. Fighting your battles alone and look how well that’s gone. You both couldn’t stop playing mind games. I know it was a long-standing defense mechanism for House and for you a power play, but you both just never listened and dropped it.” It hurt him watching everything fall apart from afar. He hoped that when things got serious enough, they would be grown-ups. But he also knew the likelihood of that happening. “Then the crash forced you to make a change, one you weren’t prepared for. It was an easy out. You left and didn’t look back, pushing your problems aside.” 

Cuddy played with a necklace around her neck. “I know we danced around each other for too long. We played too many games; we should have put aside our pride.” 

“Which leads me to your next answer. He felt betrayed. After your lunch together, he thought about it and was ready to talk to you. Using the brush as an excuse to see you. And when he saw you with that guy…” Solidifying the nail in the coffin, he already resorted to unhealthy habits, so why stop when it was clear things were over?  

Who would act sane after being pushed so far over the edge physically and emotionally? It wasn’t just the pain of Stacy resurfacing. Stacy, Amber, Kutner, Hanna, his father, his mother, Willson, his leg, and then…her. It was everything times 1000. No normal person would have held out for so long. It was only a matter of time… 

“However,” Willson corrected himself, “He had no right to feel betrayed when he was technically married.” He chuckles, “You two really had poor timing, didn’t you?” 

“Yeah, I figured,” she sighs. “We were never great with timing. We pulled our heads out of our asses and sought each other at the wrong time. And instead of coming back later, we gave up. Thank you, Willson.” She felt a tear fall that was willed away quickly by Willson. 

He let out a heavy sigh, “I’m glad to hear you figured it out eventually. I didn’t want to make you feel more guilty. By the way, you two are terribly perfect for one another.” 

She looked towards Rachel and Blythe. “I do feel a little guilty knowing he died thinking I completely hated him. And that the last thing he felt was betrayal.” 

He wrapped an arm around her shoulder, “I know. You’re here now, though, that speaks volumes. And processing everything all at once rather than ignoring it.” There was a brief pause. “He wanted to go to Rachel’s Simchat Bat.” 

“I know,” she confessed, “So many times I should have said something, but never did. There were so many times when I should have gone up to him or stopped him from walking away.” Regret filled her heart, “Did he ever blame me for his leg?” 

“No. Now I’m no mind reader, and he never said anything to me. With all my heart, I do not think he blamed you, ever. All of it went towards Stacy who he never forgave.” 

As much as she believed him, part of her still felt uneasy. “But still, I authorized the surgery…”

“Under Stacy’s request as his medical proxy. She made the call. There wasn’t much you could have done.” 

“Still. I should have respected his wishes and not done the surgery. I wonder if he seriously considered amputating it. With the pain becoming so unbearable over time.” 

“We all wish he amputated it. He considered ending his pain in a lot of different ways and ultimately decided not to amputate. I’m not sure anyone could have persuaded him. But maybe…” he trailed off. He looked down at Cuddy as if saying, “you”.

Cuddy couldn’t help but wonder. “In another life, perhaps. You know, after he performed self-surgery and was in the hospital...” A gruesome image flashed through her mind, wincing at the thought. She’ll process that event alone another time. “I wrote him a card from Rachel, it wasn’t a direct open door, but the possibility of one. I wanted to talk. We hadn’t talked since the breakup, and I don’t know what I was looking for. Closure? I still cared for him; I know he still cared for me as well. No matter how many times he said he didn’t. 

It led to the usual banter. How stupid I was to think he’d open up to the one who broke his heart. His leg was hurting; how could I not be concerned? He caved and said he felt hurt. I apologized because I thought he was referring to our breaking up, and then he said it wasn’t my fault. And I let him walk away. I should have stopped him. I could have-”

Willson cut her off, noticing her increased breathing. “You’re going to hurt yourself if you keep overthinking and overanalyzing everything. We were his friends. His enablers. We loved and hated him. Excuse my wording, but he’s selfish for dying.” They both laughed. 

“Ok, but I have the right to blame Julia for interfering with my personal life and bringing that Jerry guy into my house.” Sigh. “Thank you, Willson. You were a great friend to both of us, and we didn’t deserve you. Especially House.” 

“True. But think about it, who else was going to be my best friends in that hospital?” Wilson glanced at the floor. “As much of a menace to society as he was, he did save a lot of lives. He for sure changed ours and the ducklings as well.” 

Some would live in fear.

Some would be clinging to the past.

Some wouldn’t be leaders.

Some wouldn’t be doctors at all.

Some would be in jail.

Some might still be here.

While others are not at all.

Perhaps paths would not have crossed.

Would they be intertwined in each other’s lives

Or just another face in the workspace?

Everybody lies,

People don’t change,

The end justifies the means.

Always the savior, never the saved.

Everybody dies.

House. 

Her Heart

After a long embrace, the two caught up to House’s mother and Rachel. Time slowed down when she walked closer towards the urn. Her heart started to race, and she could hear every single heartbeat.

Rachel spoke quietly, her voice trembling a bit from holding back the tears. “Goodbye, House. I’m sad we didn’t get to play one last time.” Cuddy’s heart ached at her daughter’s goodbye. “I love you.” 

Cuddy’s voice was shaky, “For so long, I couldn’t stop imagining this moment. After every accident, self-inflicted experiment, or rogue patient. I was always worried. 

If you had just knocked on my door…it was a simple explanation. Although it gave the perfect reason to never speak to him again. Nor will Julia ever meddle in my personal life again. We could have just talked. We were so close… It might sound crazy, but had you come knocking on my door years later, I might have let you in. Fate always and would always find a way for us to bump into one another. 

I wish I had done things differently. Perhaps we would have been happier. We could have been a family. I should have communicated better. Back in college. All the years we danced around one another. Your many near-death experiences. During your relapse. 

I should have never said ‘I wish I never loved you’. Because you are the sun to my moon. We are a unique piece in each other’s puzzle that no one else has. You had my heart since college, and it’s still yours. I never stopped loving you. Always and forever. I’m so sorry. I love you.” Kissing the tips of her fingers, then placing them on the porcelain urn. Images of a happier life danced through her mind.

I will fall in love with you.

Over and over again. 

Before leaving, Blythe pulled something out of her purse. Motioning Cuddy to open her hand. The first thing was a folded sheet of music. It was crumbled and worn, with some little tears here and there. Many scribbles, both in pen and pencil, littered the paper. The name Rachel appeared in many different sections, faded and not. Her hands shook as she read the title “Cuddy’s Serenade”; a sob broke out. But before her knees buckled, another object was placed in front of her. 

I don’t care how, long, or when.

Cuddy was left stunned, and a keepsake urn was placed in her hand. It was a simple design, vase-shaped, black porcelain with a gold finish and a guitar engraved. The name Greg House, 1959-2012, is written below. 

No matter how long it’s been. 

When she stepped out of the church, she felt empty. Not wanting to leave because she’d have to face the reality that he was gone. This was goodbye, for good. In the corner of her eye, she swore she saw someone in the distance with a similar build. Standing behind a tree. Her heart froze for a second, her vision still blurry from tears. She rubbed her puffy eyes, and the figure was gone. Believing it to be a figment of her imagination. She’s tired after all and is mourning. 

You’re mine.

Before getting into her car, she spotted familiar faces gathering in the lot. Old coworkers and acquaintances. She gave a courtesy hello and didn’t stay for any added conversation. Someone called out her name; it was House’s ducklings. Rachel pulled her hand and moved towards the familiar figures. They gave simple greetings and introductions. She found herself dissociating while the group made small talk. Giving condolences and sympathy. She felt awkward throughout the whole ordeal, and thankfully, Rachel was there to lighten the mood. 

A chill ran down Cuddy’s spine when her gaze met Remy’s courteous smile. Her eyes betrayed her, tired and in pain. When the younger doctor’s eyes met hers, they quickly hardened into something sharp and unforgiving, sending daggers her way. Remy’s lips parted, words nearly escaping, but she held herself back. Cuddy knew there was no malice; not many knew of House’s and Remy’s father/daughter or brother/sister relationship. So it was only fair that Remy felt a dislike towards the woman who broke his heart. It kick-started his spiral back into addiction, though ultimately it was his choice more than hers.

Don’t tell me you’re not the same person. 

You’re always my husband.

When the two left the church, she felt an emptiness, missing everyone she used to work with dearly. They weren’t just coworkers, they were family. 

~~~~

Once Cuddy put Rachel to bed, she kicked off her shoes and plopped into bed. Not even bothering to change out of her mourning outfit. Placing Blythe’s gifts on her bedside table. Part of her knew she’d see the woman again; someone had to go and clean up his old apartment. She felt like her soul had ripped her body. Her best friend died, and the other is soon to be dead. She hadn’t felt this alone since her father passed. Is this the loneliness House felt all the time?

And I’ve been waiting, waiting…

House is the sun, and she is the moon. She lost the sun in her life.

Waiting, waiting

She opened up her phone and opened voicemail. Scrolling past her most recent ones until she found what she was looking for. She hit play and placed the phone onto her bedside table. 

Waiting, waiting

After a long pause of static, a familiar voice started to talk. In another life, they’d make it work. If death hadn’t reached him and somehow he returned in a few years. They’d stop their dance and stay in an eternal embrace. 

Waiting oh!

Instead, she dreamed of him.

For, you.

“Cuddy…”

------

Bonus: Somewhere, some days later…

“I’m sure you know this, but I ran into Cuddy at your funeral,” Willson “casually” mentions. 

House shrugs, turning away from Willson. “Hmm.” 

“We talked for a bit. She brought Rache,l too. They seem to be doing well.” 

House takes in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. “I know,” he forces out the words. 

“That’s it? No overanalyzing?” Willson questions, thinking House would want to discuss what was going through his head. 

“What do you want me to say?” he deadpanned. There was a coldness in his gaze mixed with desperation to drop the subject. 

“You’re not going to prod and ask what we talked about?” 

“I assume it was about me, and some not-so-nice things were said.” He didn’t have to be in the room. He didn’t even expect to see her attend. But when she walked out of the church with Rachel, both looking so sad, it took everything in him not to approach the two. 

“They both miss you,”  Willson pushed. 

House sighed, “Yeah.” He looked up at the night sky. Willson could see the gears shifting in his head. 

Willson knew he missed them dearly, as the months passed, House kept mumbling their names in his sleep. Only when he was awake did he refuse to let himself miss them. Burying that feeling in the past. Willson never mentioned them again except when the final months drew closer. Willson wondered if House would ever see them. He could only hope. He wished them happiness after his passing; they both deserve it. 

That night ended with them listening to the radio underneath the stars. The song, Purple Rain playing in the background. 

A/N (because it's too long to fit in the box and I refuse to cut it or split it):

*author peeks head out of the corner* So, you made it to the end! Btw yall catch my little Lisa E. quote? Yes. “Would you fall in love with me again” would be a better song choice for my other fic but too late. I was gonna mention an olive tree but they don’t grow in jersey. Maybe in a dif fic lol.

First of all, thank you so much for reading the entire thing. I know I wrote a LOT, I kept going and going and found this flow I couldn’t stop. I had fun writing this. Ugh these characters are so relatable at times. Now I have A LOT to say about things overall and if anyone is interested flip to the last chapter. I’d like to give a special shoutout to all the fanfic writers who wrote au for House. Especially "Tomorrow Take me Higher by hughinahoodie (MldrItsMe), I loved this fic so much, it has everything I wanted in a au redemption arc. I’m serious it’s such a wonderful read. I adore House acknowledging his fears and working to battle them. Him improving himself not only for those who care about him but for himself as well. Improving his relationship with Cuddy and Rachel, strengthening his friendship with Wilson. Trust, communication, and being open. Plz read it, it’s such a beautiful read and so emotional.

Second, I know there was a lot of info dumping and self realization and reflection. I definitely exposed myself and how I think/process information in the way I structured this writing. Again I was just hit with a death of someone I went to school with and it opened a lot of one-on-one conversations with myself. I haven’t actually gotten to s7 yet, so I had to essentially google a bunch of stuff lol. Honestly better that I knew about it instead and am prepared for when it hits on screen lol. It def helped me write this since there was a lot of me just learning about event x,y,&z. Let me just say, umm what happened to the show’s writing. No seriously what was that.

Third, like I said I don’t have much experience with people who are addicts/recovering. Especially with drug addiction/abuse. I tried to be very careful with my wording and how I wrote it from the character’s perspective. To an extent I do have experience with self-destructive tendencies. Nothing to the level House went but I understand how hard it is to break them. Especially when they never truly go away and the chance of slipping up is always looming over your head.

Fourth, I want to make it clear I am not on the side of House is 100% the victim etc blah blah. I love the character becuase he is fictional, irl would HATE the dude. It’s a love-hate relationship. His behavior becomes repetitive and like people have pointed out the show rlly captures his slow downfall. You’d think after the multiple near death experiences followed by epiphanies he would have changed something. But again he had so much brain altering shit happen not surprising he didn’t loose his mind earlier. He took one step forward but the trauma sent him 10 steps back and made fighting back 10x harder. (Just my interpretation.)Saw some people saying it was character regression bc he went back to Vicodin after yk rehab etc and yeah I kinda agree esp with everything that he does between s7 & s8. Like “he’s bettering himself as a person” then nope right back to self destructive tendencies. Again I get his character is supposed to be xyz and in the end he did sum that made the ending so much better but still. I love him bc he is FICTIONAL. And I wished better for his character. Like a redemption arc would have gone so HARD and fanfics have FED me. I was on tumblr and someone was pointing out how we do know what he was like before. And how he is the product of someone he loved and held near/dear betraying him thus leaving him in his broken husk of his former self. Like he was similar to the way he is not but it wasn’t as dark. Stacy was his first real long lasting relationship and probably best turned lvl and that rlly messed him up. He started off more open as a person and allowed himself to feel but shut everything out when he was betrayed by Stacy. So ultimately, Stacy you started all of this BAHAH. I love the whole “everyone forgets this isn’t a sit little doctor drama and has a lot of serious stuff”. Also I do feel like his pain gets overlooked. Like we see his psyche grow more and more dark as the show goes on but get glimpses of him in his condition. His pain gets so bad sometimes that he wants to die and wishes to die. I’ll be honest his writing and arcs get weird between s6-8

So I have a LOT to say and if anyone is interested I’ll make it a separate chapter. But I’m going to wait until I’m done with the series to release it because I've decided to let loose. My messy thoughts and opinions about almost everything. But condensed since there are too many things and it’ll get repetitive lol.

Thank you so much for making it this far, I am forever grateful for the love and support I have received. Especially when I can’t talk to anyone irl about this bc they aren’t as invested as I am. Will I ever write about this series again, mmm probably not. I have thought about explaining the first 2 chapters but anything after no. I think I’ve said all I wanted to say unless (not), something else happens in the show that I don’t like and want to write differently to satisfy myself.

I have thought up 3 new fic ideas while writing all of this. - Fic idea: It plays with this “this was all a hallucination” theory. A simple story is that none of the events on the show happened, it’s all a hallucination. His brain finally breaks the illusion and he has to face “reality”. Some world building and exposition Easter eggs later… he notices something is off. Like beyond off. He finds the key and is shot back to the beginning. The real world, the start. And he changes one singular action that changes the trajectory of his life. Now Ik it’s vague but I don’t wanna spoil too much if it becomes a thing. Idk I feel like I can play with alternate realities and stuff.* -  Fic idea 2: the car crash was just a halluination* -  Fic idea 3: what if he didn’t take Vicodin after the breakup? He still goes through the emotional spiral but with his strong hatred towards the Vicodin overpowering his pain mmmmmmmmmm. - Joke fic: House AU and he’s Gordon Ramsey doing a Hell’s Kitchen ep. Wilson and Cuddy are the sous chefs and everyone else is a competitor. All 3 teams + whoever he didn’t hire/psyc patients. Haha.