Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Fox or the TV show House. I'm only borrowing some characters. The characters belong to David Shore and company.
A/N: Okay, I honestly don't do one-shots (you'd probably be able to tell why since my fics are always long). But a few friends *coughs* Sophie, Oc7ober, *coughs* Helen, *coughs* and some others requested that I do so… Okay, Edit, this was supposed to be a one shot, now it's gonna be a two-shot…
IT'S 4:15 am! xD
So here, I've tried to write one. Don't be harsh! And forgive some points I may have missed. I haven't watched the entire episode yet[only the Huddy scenes] because my internet connection's speed won't allow me to load or download anything! :(
Enjoy!
NOW
.
No.
Yes.
No.
I don't know anymore…
She couldn't push everything aside now; she's worked-- fought too hard to give in to him now. She's been doing well of ignoring her feelings for him far too long to let them right back in now. Their feelings, their history ran too deep and now, from one event, he's captured her again; mind, heart, and soul. She should resist, she should fight.
I couldn't.
She couldn't lie to herself anymore-- couldn't deny her feelings for him, couldn't carry on with the image of a happy family she envisioned when she said yes to Lucas last night whilst she thought of him. She couldn't. Not anymore.
And that's why she did it. She ended everything with Lucas. Ended things, broke off the engagement.
For House.
No… for myself.
"I don't love you." I do; as much as it kills me to love you, I do.
She wished he'd just believed her and push her away as soon as she got face to face with him again. But the fact was, she didn't believe herself when she told him those four shattering words.
I love you. I know you love me too. Else you wouldn't be hurting too much—your eyes tell me everything.
She couldn't throw everything away.
I just did.
This was now.
She tried all her best earlier to fight every shred of love that wanted to escape her. She hurt him so much; hurt him to the bone, just to try to stop herself, reminding herself that he wasn't healthy for her and Rachel.
She told him Wilson was moving on. He was.
She pointedly told him that she's moving on.
I wasn't. I couldn't. I tried and tried.
But she found some scrap of hope in failure. If she did get through House tonight, her heart could finally rest its case if he didn't want her after everything she's said. She had to. She lied when she told him she didn't love him. She had to tell him that, for herself. She meant it when she said that she was tired, tired of everything.
She was done. She was utterly done but her heart just wouldn't stop telling her to go after him. He was toxic to her but he was also almost everything to her.
"You have nothing, House, nothing."
She knew, no matter how much- how hard she tried, he'll always have her. It was a natural force; her always being pulled into his orbit.
God his eyes when he closed the door to the ambulance. Damn those beautiful, entrancing windows to his soul. Wordless, they can communicate so stealthily. She wanted to take back every blow she threw at him that night, wanted to take back every scalding, hurting word she said but she couldn't. All was said and done. And had she not said them in the first place, she wouldn't have come to the conclusion that either which way she turned the world, she'll always be faced with House and her feelings for him; that she would never know if anything would even work between them if she- they didn't try.
God, how she wanted to try.
Loving you is hard… but it's what I feel. I couldn't help myself.
She tried to do what's best for Rachel by choosing and settling for Lucas but she couldn't do that anymore. She couldn't be happy with what she chose because what she chose wasn't for her. She chose the easiest path for her daughter. She tried to do best by her.
It didn't work. It did, for Rachel. But for Cuddy herself, it did work but it wouldn't have worked long enough anyway.
Every feeling, every emotion would surface at some time.
Earlier that night, they did.
Why at that place, why at that time? She'll never know. All she could remember was his voice, talking to Hannah, trying to soothe her. Her heart broke as she heard the woman's screams as her leg was amputated, by House. Her heart broke for what House was courageously doing while she stood outside, nobody but the woman who tried to do her role and asked someone to agree on having a limb removed in change of her life.
Her heart ached for him yet her heart also beat with pride for his heroic feat at having done that. It was so raw, how he spoke to Hannah when he told her his story. He almost acted as if she wasn't there. He didn't blame anybody but himself; not her, not Stacy, not the other "idiot" doctors. Just him and him alone.
Alone.
She closed her eyes and quickly blinked the tears away as she recalled him saying that. How he told his patient how his decision affected his everyday life.
I'm always here...When it greatly matters, you're not alone, you know that.
Now, she was on her way to House's apartment, trying to focus on the road whilst her mind was running faster than her vehicle was at the moment; her wheels turning crazily. So many 'what ifs' and maybes. She took a deep breath as she saw the entrance to his apartment building.
Nervously biting her lower lip, she thought. But she didn't have time to think. No amount of thinking would prepare her for anything that would come. All she should do was go in there and lay everything out on the table for him.
He laid everything out before, almost for months, he's showed her he's changed; she tried not to acknowledge that he did, choosing to ignore his existence for what she thought was her own good and at the same time, not wanting to lead him on. He tried to show her that he's become better; she knew, but she chose to not take notice.
It was insane, what people do to keep out of love.
But she knew she wouldn't fall out of love. Because she's been in love with him far too long. She's lied to herself so much about him.
Maybe, just maybe, this was their time now.
Cuddy wiped her eyes which have been tearing up for quite some time already. She got out of her car once she's parked and walked straight into the building. She was somewhat relieved to find that his front door was unlocked but still…
When the thought entered her mind she internally shivered. But she had to face facts. Although House could change, there will be things that he may be tempted to go back on.
Cuddy prayed he won't go back on drugs, but that wasn't her choice. It was solely his. She just prayed that he won't throw away a year of victory over the drugs' temptation for him to use again.
Her heart stopped as she kept walking towards him, seeing him with a bottle in his right hand, two pills on the palm of his left. He was breathing laboriously and she frowned. She leant back in the jamb of his bathroom door and looked down at him, but not with pity, her eyes were just red rimmed and slightly puffy.
She noticed that his were too as House looked up at her, a vision in pink… scrubs, and asked if she was going to do what she immediately knew was what happened the night he hallucinated her helping him detox from Vicodin.
"No…" she answered, looking back at him, straight in those distraught and vulnerable orbs and continued in a rasping voice, "It's your choice if you want to go back on drugs."
House looked down on the pills in his palm, "Okay," he said almost nonchalantly, taking deep breaths as he willed his eyes not to shed tears like they did a while earlier. He then redirected his gaze up at her and said, "Just so you know I find it hard to see the downside." With that he looked down at the treasonous pills in his palm. Two pills and he'd have salvation. But two pills, he'd once again condemn himself to addiction that had once too many jeopardized everything he had; life, job, his intellect, and his sanity. He vowed never again but the recent events of his day, his weeks, and months have proven to be catalysts to what he believed would be inevitable in the point of view of others.
The question was, will he once again condemn himself?
"You need to re-bandage your shoulder," Cuddy said, pushing from the jamb and walking a few steps closer, placing two pressuring fingers to her forehead before leaning back on the door in front of him. He really didn't need to re-bandage his shoulder that soon but she needed a prelude to their conversation.
"Is that why you're here, Foreman sent you?"
Another deep breath, "No," she answered, her eyes still on him even if he was trying not to glue their eyes together too much.
As if a kid, yet true she did yell at him earlier, he asked, "You gonna yell at me again?" his blue eyes watery, from tears or from pain, Cuddy couldn't quite tell.
"No."
Shaking his head once House replied and lowered his head, "Well, I'm running out of ideas."
Whispering the inevitable name, Cuddy mentioned, "Lucas." There was no way it wasn't going to be unmentioned anyway so why not be done with it, right?
"Oh great, you're feeling uncomfortable again," House muttered under his breath but loud enough for her to hear. "Probably mean you just got back from some quickie wedding in Vegas or you're already pregnant—"
"I ended it." Cuddy finally announced, cutting him off, her eyes on him, watching as he shut his mouth and stared up at her with wide ocean blue eyes.
His eyes still wide, not bothering to hide the genuine shock at her revelation House asked the next most logical question. "What?"
Was he delusional? Was he hallucinating? Had he taken the Vicodin? He was lost, yet thankful she was here, yet again—real or hallucination—saving him from himself, saving him from self-destruction. She was his saving grace; his angel. House was dumbfounded so all he could do was stare up at her.
Her heart was thudding in its cavity as she told him every single detail, and slowly, she knew she was going to have to tell him what her heart so stubbornly clutched at all the while she was with somebody else. She was baring herself, naked in front of him and hoping he won't play with her, not this time. This deeply mattered. They were tipping on the balance now. She hoped it would even out everything.
"I'm stuck, House…" she admitted. Gazing at him for a while, she released a deep breath then continued. "I keep wanting to move forward… I keep wanting to move on… and I can't." House just looked up at her with unhidden surprised eyes. Cuddy continued, keeping her eyes glued to his now, "I'm in my new house with my new fiancé and all I can think about is you." A sigh. "I just need to know if you and I can work."
Don't push me away, Cuddy's heart begged. But another part of her wanted him to push her away, ending everything she felt—or thought she felt for him. But her heart won out, wanting him to seize the moment and open up to her. So they could finally try and work things out between them; stop the deflection a moment, stop the lies, the truth would be out, and they would be together. At the moment it was as simple as that.
Emotions were raw, the moment was right, they should be too…
"You think I can fix myself?" House asked her from where he sat, his back against his tub. His question was honest, not rhetorical, not sarcastic. It was a genuine question.
A question Cuddy herself didn't know the answer to. She had hope that he could but she didn't know. "I don't know," she told him, shaking her head, her eyes getting misty again. She honestly didn't know.
House swallowed and admitted, looking up at her, his walls entirely down. She knew he wouldn't push her away then on. "So I'm the most screwed up person in the world."
"I know," she acceptingly stated, her eyes never faltering from his honest blues.
A pause.
Their eyes locked onto each other, House waiting in bated breath for her next words. A moment later, they finally came, in the sincerest voice he ever heard.
"I love you," Cuddy declared, her soft, sincere voice, adding weight into her meaning. So much, she thought. Fighting back tears, she blinked them away and swallowed before continuing.
"I wish I didn't," she said, on the verge of tearing up but then she pursed her lips, almost smiling, "But I can't help it." It was amusing how he was just staring up at her, his eyes as wide as ever, just taking in every word she mustered to vocalize without breaking down.
It was now or never. He placed the ball on her court, she returned it tonight. Now, it was his call; his words and actions that would even break her already broken heart or finally—he'd be a man-- and glue it together, keeping her in his for what she prayed would be a long, long time.
House stared at her for a mere two seconds before he diverted his gaze from her and tried to push himself up but couldn't. He slumped his shoulder cutely when he found out that he was unable to do so but soon after reached a hand up to her, wordlessly asking her to help him up.
The side of Cuddy's mouth tugged up as she helped him up, feeling her heart almost frantically beat from her chest as she raked her eyes from his chest and up to his eyes. He was towering over her now.
Now.
Now…
It was theirs.
She felt like a ton of every negative feeling she felt that weighed down her shoulders the last few minutes, hours, weeks, and months mysteriously disappeared as his eyes told her that at that moment, he was there. With her in the moment.
That he won't suddenly grab her breast and claim that it was the logical next step… that he won't suddenly push her away with a remark.
She knew. His eyes told her so.
House was bemused yet undeniably, suddenly fulfilled by the turn of things in a few hours. He may have lost his patient, he may have been wounded and lost amounts of blood, he may have lost hope and some pride from what happened but Cuddy's presence soothed his qualms, soothed and invigorated his tired soul, saved his life from being condemned yet again to the drugs that once caused his great downfall and gave him back some of the hope he's lost.
To say he was grateful was an understatement. His life has been turned around in the span of half an hour. All that was from her, Lisa Cuddy. The woman he loves, the woman who loves him despite his shortcomings and everything else.
Twenty years of circling each other was enough, both of them thought.
And as House took steps closer to her, she beamed up at him with her entrancing eyes filled with hope, waiting for him— his lips, to descend on hers… finally. She felt his hand slide up to her arm, holding her there.
They gazed at each other for a while, different shades of ocean, warm and loving as they melded together, everything past them now; nobody else in the world but the two of them, standing in front of each other naked and scathed, yet finally cocooned by a calming presence of truth and serenity for what felt like the first time in a long time.
House lowered his head, closing the gap between their lips, but hovered a breath away from hers only, gazing at her eyes as they started to close before his own fluttered shut when he finally met her lips, soft, warm. Cuddy closed her eyes when she felt his warm shaky breath on her lips and she worried her brow a bit before finally relaxing at the slightest feel of his upper lip grazing the top of her upper lip.
She reveled in how he kissed her as if for the first time; so slow, so tenderly slow and soft, as if the slightest pressure would break her; as if claiming her lips fully would awaken him from fantasy and send him down to reality when in fact, that moment is reality.
She was there. Finally. In reality.
They kissed for a few seconds until House pulled away gazing down at her, dazzled, taking in the view of her long lashes gracing her cheeks while her eyes remained closed, her lips still apart. He straightened his head, looking down at her as she finally opened her eyes after noticing the absence of his lips from hers.
"How do I know I'm not hallucinating?" House asked her, his eyes fixed on hers still.
The corners of Cuddy's lips slightly tugged up in pride as she asked him, "Did you take the Vicodin?" She knew he didn't.
House extracted his hand from her arm and showed her the pills in his hand, seemingly unaffected now unlike the hypnotized way he looked at them earlier. "Nope," he proudly answered.
Cuddy looked from his palm to him, a hand on the left side of his chest facing her. A smile slowly blossomed on her obviously tired face, the smile immediately masking the tiredness her face revealed. She looked stunning to him, her eyes glowing as she looked up to him with those gorgeous eyes, and that small, stunning smile and said, "Then I think we're okay…"
"Yeah…" House whispered, amazed by everything at that moment. Not even looking at the powerful drugs in his hand, he let them drop to the floor, his eyes once again affixed to hers with a small smile.
When he leant forward once again to kiss her, the small smile on Cuddy's face blossomed into a full-blown completed smile as she turned her head to the side to fasten her mouth to his, kissing him jovially.
She smiled against his lips when his hand trailed down her arms and opened wide so she could lace her fingers with his. The romantic gesture almost made her melt into a puddle of sweetness but she kept her self straight, kissing him much more now, their lips still tenderly gliding against each other but with more pressure now than earlier.
Reluctantly pulling away, House rested his forehead against hers and asked, "I thought you needed to re-bandage my shoulder?"
Cuddy chuckled breathily and replied, "Maybe later…" before she reclaimed his lips with hers, her left hand snaking upwards to cup his jaw, tracing a finger gently along his regal nose. His eyes were closed and Cuddy took in his relaxed form and how he looked like while he kissed her,
She gave his hand a squeeze before closing her eyes and focused on feeling their lips mesh together for what she knew was the first time since Joy.
But this had more meaning now. It stemmed from somewhere deeper.
It stemmed from love.
And they had it together, now.
A/N:
Liked, loved, disliked it? Please leave a review :D
Part II, the M-rated part, coming tonight… :D Stay tuned!