Come On Get Happy

A/N: I am back after a long hiatus...apparently I only get inspired when something terrible happens on House. Also it really depressed me that David Shore said that Huddy is over for good...so here's my take on the aftermath of "Bombshells".

Disclaimer: I do not own House. Obviously.

At the DDX room, the fellows sat around the table reading papers. They looked up as House limped in. He threw his cane on the table, sat down, took out a little orange bottle from his pocket, and casually popped a pill. "What case do you have for me today?" He asked after tipping his head back to swallow it.

Nobody replied. Four pairs of wide-open eyes stared back at him.

"I don't pay you to sit around and gape," House said in a voice that indicated extreme irritation. "A case, come on!"

"Uh…" Masters said, opening a case file, "Twelve year old female. Jerky uncontrollable movements, mood swings, seizure."

"Sounds like Huntington's," Foreman furrowed his brows.

"But it can't be, she's only twelve." Chase said.

"Unless it's early-onset." Taub said. "DRPLA? It has Huntington-like symptoms. Onset can range from puberty to sixty years old."

"Both require genetic tests. Anything else?" House demanded.

"If she had measles recently, it could be subacute sclerosing panencephalitis," Masters said. "We can do an EEG and draw spinal fluid."

"Good, go." House said.

Everyone stood up and gathered their things.

"And Masters, you're fired," House added, opening up a newspaper.

All the fellows froze. "What are you waiting for? I said go!" House barked.

Chase, Foreman and Taub flashed Masters sympathetic looks, and left. Masters hung around. "Why?" She demanded.

"It's quite simple," House said without looking up from his paper. "I needed you because of Cuddy. Now I don't need you anymore."

Masters stared. "That's the only reason? You only kept me because of your girlfriend?" There was an unwelcome tremor in her voice.

"Yes," House said, still not looking up. "Goodbye."

.

Despite Master's best efforts at remaining calm, she had to swallow back a sob as she got her things from her locker. She had thought she was fired before so many times. House had even threatened to have her thrown out of medical school. But this time, it wasn't because her abilities are in question, or that her morals conflicted with House's plans. She was only tolerated because her existence on the team had pleased Cuddy, and she had kept House in check in order for him to please Cuddy. And House evidently did not feel like he needed to please Cuddy anymore. It was so…unfair.

She was aware of three shadows around her.

"If it matters," Chase said, "It wasn't your fault."

"I know it wasn't!" Masters said, wiping her tears away angrily. "Seriously, what is his problem!"

"Cuddy broke up with him, and he's back on Vicodin." Taub summarized.

"If it makes you feel better, at least you don't have to deal with the fallout," Foreman said.

"House can get really nasty when he wants to be," Chase soothed her. "He doesn't really mean what he says."

"But I'm still fired," sighed Masters.

The other fellows nodded.

She swung her bag over her shoulder and shut her locker. "Good bye," she said.

Chase pulled her into an unexpected hug. "You're going to be a great doctor."

When Masters left, the remaining three looked at each other. "Here we go again," said Foreman in a depressed manner.

.

When he glanced up and saw that it was 1PM, Wilson registered the quietness of his morning. It was past lunchtime, and House still hadn't been in to bother him yet. He hadn't seen Cuddy this morning either. He wasn't sure why, but he got an ominous feeling in the pit of his stomach. Perhaps he was just too used to House's life being disaster-filled.

Wilson walked to House's office, trying to rationalize to himself that he was just being paranoid. House was there for Cuddy throughout her surgery; she recovered well and went home. Everything should be fine, right? Yet the ominous feeling remained.

House was there in his office, looking at something on the computer with his feet up on the table. Wilson felt relieved…until he saw the orange bottle displayed prominently on his desk.

Wilson almost broke the door in his violent effort in opening it. "House," he said. "Tell me that is not what I think it is."

"It's exactly what you think it is," House said, eyes on his screen. His voice had a hard edge that Wilson noticed, and did not like.

"What happened?" Wilson's voice rose an octave. "You're back on Vicodin – why?"

"Cuddy broke up with me," House stated flatly.

"Why?" Wilson repeated in frustration.

"Because I took Vicodin," House said and looked straight at Wilson, a challenge in his piercing blue gaze.

It was circular logic, but it made sense for House. "You took Vicodin…to be there for Cuddy….so you wouldn't feel pain," Wilson pieced it together.

"She said that too," House said darkly. "Aren't you both clever."

Wilson sat down in front of House's desk. "Are you alright?" he asked softly.

"I'm fine," House said.

"We have to talk about this," Wilson said.

"We really don't," House fired back immediately.

"You are back on Vicodin, you are clearly not fine."

"I'm not hallucinating your dead girlfriend," House said, "so I am fine."

Wilson stood up. "Playing the dead girlfriend card, House?" He shook his head. "I'll go, but you are getting a drink with me after work tonight."

"Sorry, getting involved with another middle-aged woman might be too soon," House said, and went back to his screen.

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