Chapter 1

He was sitting there, alone on the bench as the cold wind brushed his fingers, wrapped around his cane. The cemetery was empty and the moisture from the fresh pile of dirt in front of him began to freeze as the evening progressed. He began rethink the last few months he had with his best friend, remembering the start of their time together; how he not only risked his life but he also abandoned any future past Wilson's death. Not existing was going to be tougher than he thought. It started with not being able to be at his own friend's funeral, watching from afar as all of his old colleagues paid their respect to yet another doctor from Princeton Plainsboro.

The only missing face from Wilson's ceremony was that of the only person he would even consider seeking comfort in. Cuddy should have been there. She had to know that House was supposedly dead, why wouldn't she be there for Wilson and the others? It seemed inappropriate to be thinking of his ex in front of his most loyal friend's grave, but he had been prepared for Wilson's death. It was time to consider his own future now and he needed a better plan than suicide.

Then he remembered once again that he was dead. He had gotten so accustomed to being dead and without Wilson, he wasn't really sure how he would get around without an identity. The logistical reality of his problem was becoming clear to him. He closed his eyes as he was becoming overwhelmed with his predicament, coming up with solutions, but the solutions seemed infinitely more difficult than suicide did. He remembered all of the reliable connections he had made through the years and how he had destroyed each of those relationships. He couldn't run to anyone for help. His thoughts were hectic and he knew he had to stop or he was going to do something stupid like take the easy way out. Taking a deep breath in, he slowly opened his eyes and soon after, exhaled. He watched the vapor from his breath cascade out from between his lip as a single tear escaped from his moist eyes, rolling down his cold, dry cheek.

The bright winter sun was setting to the left of him and he knew he had to leave. He had to go somewhere… but where would he go? Something in his peripheral vision caught his eye. Another puff of warm breath to his right caught his attention. He figured it must have been someone seeking comfort in the corpse of their dead doctor. He immediately stood up and went around the left side of the bench, walking briskly towards the parking lot, not even glancing at the source of that stray breath.

"What the fuck?" she said from behind him, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. "House?" He glanced down and tightened his grip on his cane. Hearing Cuddy's voice again, he smirked a bit. Of course. That smile soon faded as he heard her feet crunching on the dead leaves directly behind him.

He wasn't sure what to expect when he turned around, causing the look of surprise after she immediately slapped him across the face. In retrospect, he should've seen it coming…

"I guess you didn't expect me to be here then…" he said, finally making eye contact with her. Only then did he realize the tears accumulating in her eyes.

"I thought I knew you pretty well, House. But I certainly didn't know that you were capable of resurrection. That's a bit new to me." She didn't know what to think. Cuddy was only ready to mourn Wilson and she was not prepared to run into her dead ex-boyfriend.

Facing Wilson's death was easier for her. She was hurt by it of course, as he was always there for her. House's "death" was difficult for her. On one hand, he drove his car into her home while he was high as a kite. On the other hand, he had spiraled out of control without her since then, which she of course blamed on herself. After a several weeks mourning House, she decided she would have forgiven him for everything if it saved his life. She couldn't bring herself to hate a dead man who had been tolerable for most of his life and absolutely a dick for about two years. But this made things just that much more complicated.

And now she just stared at him in awe.

House couldn't do anything but stare at her.

They stare at each other for a good two minutes, neither uttering a single word as they did what they thought they would never be able to do for the rest of their lives.

House furrowed his brow and broke the beautiful silence.

"I thought I'd never see you again… And I'm glad I did, because I am so sorry for everything I put you through. I don't care if you never want to see me again but I need you to know that."

She continued to stare at him, unchanged.

"Also, sorry for dying."

She scoffed at him, breaking her gaze at him, while he never stopped closely inspecting her face for the slightest emotional response. She couldn't help herself as she slowly walked closer to him and wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed hard. House looked down at the woman holding him, and reluctant to believe his own eyes, he realized that Lisa Cuddy was hugging him. Raising his eyebrows in surprise at this realization, he tightly wrapped his arms around her shoulders and rested his chin on the top of her head.

The same cold air that surrounded him with the thoughts of his helpless, lonely self just minutes prior was a distant memory as he held in his arms the only woman he ever loved who loved him for who he was. Then he remembered that he ruined that, too. He felt her body shake as she began to slowly breakdown into restrained tears onto his chest. Cuddy thought he wanted nothing to do with him ever since his green card marriage and even more so after he drove into her house. Then of course, he died. Neither of them were sure where they stood in each other's lives.