He walked into her office with no purpose at all. In fact, had it been earlier in the day, or even the week, it wouldn't have been a big deal. Something about right time, right place. She was sitting on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, her face buried in her arms. She didn't hear the door open, and she didn't acknowledge his entrance. Her body was shaking, but she wasn't crying. He walked over to the couch and put a hand gently on the back of her neck and the other he pressed against her forehead. She looked up at him, and began to speak. He shushed her before the words could tumble out. When he had decided she was fevered, he pulled his hands away from her forehead. She continued to shiver, and he pulled her into his warm body.

"How's the chemo going?" He whispered, as to not aggravate the throbbing pain she was obviously feeling around her temples.

"Hell" She managed to get out. He took note of the trash can placed next to the foot of the coffee table.

"What hurts?" He asked. She was surprised at how genuine he could be. She had felt it a few times. Once, when they were in medical school, she had the flu and he was like this. She loved that no matter how miserable she felt, he could just be there. "Lis, what hurts?" He asked again, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Everything" She sobbed into his shoulder.

"Alright, just relax. I'm right here." He couldn't tell her that she was okay, because she wasn't. He was a straight shooter, and lying wasn't going to make her feel any better.

"House" She moaned, and he could hear the agony in her voice. If he thought his hear t could break, it would have.

"I know." He mumbled reassuringly. "How about I take you home?" It wasn't really a question.

"I don't know if I can-" She hated to be vulnerable with most people, but it was stupid to even attempt strength with him. "-make it to the car." She felt weak, and that scared him. She was not a weak woman.

"We'll take mine. It's closer." He helped her off the sofa, and wrapped her in his jacket. She stood tight against him as they exited the office and he put on a look that may even have terrified God himself.

"Don't let me fall" She begged.

"Wouldn't dream of it" He replied gruffly, never taking his eyes off the door. When they got to his car, he settled her in his passenger side, and she allowed him to clip her in. He took note of her constant shivering and blasted the heat in the car. The late November cold snuck up on his body and he let out his own shiver, grateful for the warmth of the car. She fell asleep before he made it out of the lot.

Stopping the car out front of his apartment, he went over to her side.

"Hey" He whispered in an attempt to wake her, but it was to no avail. He figured that if he took the elevator he could probably carry her. So, without a second thought he unclipped her seatbelt and pulled her against his body. He entered an elevator full of other people, of course. He put the scary look back on his face as he leaned his back against the wall.

"House?" One of the other people in the elevator asked curiously. He absolutely hated that man for speaking.

"I drugged her, thought the least I could do was take her home." He muttered.

"Are you serious!" The man shouted, everyone else just looked awkwardly at the floor.

"No! Damn it, she's sick." Cuddy shifted in his arms, beginning to wake up. "And now you've woken her. Can't you just mind your own damn business?" He muttered, but his face softened when he looked down at the woman in his arms. She closed her eyes, and turned her face back into his chest. The elevator doors parted and he made his way into his apartment.