Hey everyone! It's me, again, haha. So I've had this idea for a story for a really long time, and now it's finally becoming concrete! It's just a first chapter - if you guys like and want me to keep going.... Just review and let me know what you think!
Disclaimer: David Shore owns everything.
Copyright: Don't take my writing please!
So as always, read, review, and enjoy!
The Dean of Medicine position came naturally to her – Lisa Cuddy was an expert at working and interacting with people and, obviously, there needed to be someone with a level head to control House's juvenile antics and unethical medical philosophies and practices. Nevertheless, deep down inside her, there was the passion for medicine that had been smoldering since she was twelve years old. She couldn't stay at Princeton-Plainsborough Teaching Hospital – she wanted to become a practicing doctor and she couldn't very easily step down here; the replacement would always be coming to her with dilemmas, and soon, she would be back to where she started. No, she needed to be away, away from here.
The goodbyes were hard – she was leaving everything that she knew and everyone that she loved behind. She took it slowly, pacing herself day by day, the goodbyes getting a little harder each day – the nurses and the doctors took a full two days, – there were so many. Chase, Cameron, Thirteen, Taub, Kutner, and Foreman took another day. They were shocked and confused at her sudden departure, but didn't question when she said that this was something she had to do for herself. They took turns giving hugs and crying, but enjoying one last time together, while laughing and remembering. Wilson was a separate goodbye – the hurt was dampened by the final contracts for the offer to accept her position, which he had gladly accepted weeks before. Nevertheless, as quickly as that joy had come, the damper was released, and Cuddy lay on his shoulder and cried the cons of what she was doing beginning to overpower the pros. But she pushed on, as hard as it was, and as much as she felt her heart crumbling into pieces.
It was Friday – her last day working as Dean of Medicine for Princeton Plainsborough Teaching Hospital in New Jersey. Monday, she would begin as one of the three endocrinologists working for Mount Sinai Hospital in New York. Her office was cleaned out of her personal possessions, waiting for Wilson to come and embrace the position she had both willingly and unwillingly left behind. There was one goodbye left that she had to give, one that was equally frightening and invigorating.
Cuddy tapped softly on the glass door, after a moment of silently watching him strum the guitar. House looked up, his cerulean eyes shooting a sparkle of electricity through her veins, for the last time, she realized sadly.
"Hey," she said quietly. He didn't respond, simply played another chord on the guitar. Over the past years, she had mastered their silent language, and this was an invitation to continue.
"So I'm leaving," she commented bluntly – even though she wasn't expecting him to care, she had to say goodbye. He meant too much to her. And up until recently, she had thought she meant something to him too.
When news of her departure had slowly surfaced, he reacted not with sadness, frustration, anger, or even delight – he had remained completely indifferent. It had hurt in the beginning, but she had come to terms with it, immersing herself in the demanding preparations of leaving, making arrangements for the old hospital, the new hospital, herself, and Rachel. House and Cuddy remained in their normal fashion, bickering when he tried to do something utterly insane and House making inappropriate comments about the size of her ass. But even though they tried to move past it, there was something that was now missing from their relationship. There had always been that mutual attraction between them, but the spark from his end had now dwindled away or he had suddenly hidden it away. It both scared her and made her sad, but she knew it was better this way – in the end, it would save her heart from a lot more pain than it had already gone through with him.
"So I guess I'll see you around," she added, coming back to reality. He was silent again.
"Probably not," he suddenly said, his voice startling her. She lightly laughed, nodding, as she comprehended.
"I guess not." There was silence between them once again and she stepped forward, putting her heart out on the line for the last time with him.
"I'll miss you," she said, stepping forward and giving him an awkward, one-armed hug. He stopped playing and sat silently with her arms around him.
'Don't go," he silently pleaded, but that was all he could muster – an unspoken wish. Too intent on remaining miserable and too scared of being happy, this was all he could give her – a broken, empty shell of a real man. Cuddy gave him one last squeeze and then released him. House could see pinpricks of tears shimmering in the corners of her eyes.
"Bye." The word was like a whisper in the wind as she turned around on her stiletto heel and vanished into the night. His heartbeat increased as he stopped being so self-absorbed for just one minute and realized that he lost her, a true friend and potential partner. The guitar he held in his hands suddenly felt too heavy to hold and he placed it down, grabbing his cane, keys, and coat and rushing out of the hospital.
"Thanks Arielle," Cuddy said, waving goodbye to the young nanny as she cradled her baby lovingly to her chest. She sighed, her heart pounding out a slow, dull throbbing beat in her chest. Cuddy closed the door, leaning against it as she looked at the house overflowing with boxes. The only things that remained were the fixed appliances, the mattress, clothes for the next couple of days, and the baby's things. The house was as empty as her heart and as she put Rachel to bed, tears flowed down her cheeks and she wasn't sure if she could stop them. There was another reason that she had to leave here, but she wasn't ready to admit it to anyone, not even herself. And between those two things, it was enough to take her away from this place.
The Scotch and Vicodin and begun to mix and now created a pleasant dulling throb in House's head. It was just enough for him to forget about today but not quite enough that he was unconscious – yet, at least. He stumbled from the couch to the bathroom, splashing water on his face and collapsing on the bed in his room. The room seemed to spin and his vision started to fade. House blindly fumbled for the phone and dialed a number. It went straight to voicemail and his breathing became labored, as sleep seemed to be engulfing him.
"Don't… go. You should stay. This is your whole life. I… need you to stay." The phone slipped from his hand and sleep overtook him. It wasn't until morning that he realized that he had replaced the two at the end of her number with a three. She would never know.