A/N: This is what happened...I started this story and had an idea in mind about where I wanted to go...but it took me too long to get there and as it turned out the actual show was going in a similar direction (except for the whole hallucinating sex business). So I have decided to completely revise this story, and start from scratch (sorry if that annoys you, but I think this one is much better). I plan to end up in pretty much the same place I had intended but I'm having this story take place beginning about four months after "Both Sides Now' and from there it will kind of go off on it's own. I will post two chapters tonight and one or two more tomorrow, but I always love to know what you guys think... (Hint: review this shit...)

The Daylight

Chapter One

Everything comes from fear and sex. You can know everything about a person; you can understand them completely, if you know these things. What scares you; what turns you on? For me it's all the same thing. Everything is about Cuddy. My lust made me want to impress her, made me dream up a life where I could posses her in every way. My fear made me push her away, made me self-destruct. Made me lose my mind. Fear and sex. And love….

Cuddy waved Wilson into her office, and nodded into the phone against her cheek. "No I understand Dr. Myer. Dr. House hasn't given up his practice; he's just taking an extended sabbatical."

Wilson frowned. In their efforts to keep House's condition a secret from everyone who didn't absolutely need to know, Cuddy once again took the lead and lied for him.

"No, I can't predict when he'll be back, but if your patient is still alive then, I'm sure Dr. House will be very interested." Cuddy hung up the phone quickly and shook her head. Wilson grunted a laugh.

"You're starting to sound like him," he told her.

She smiled a little bit and leaned back in her chair. "That's not something to be proud of. What's up?"

"Did you know he's getting ready to be discharged in a couple of days?"

Cuddy's eyes widened for the briefest moment, elated. But then she lowered her head. "How could I know?" She asked almost bitter. "You. Cameron and Chase. Dr. Hadley. Everyone who has been out to see him says he's doing better; he's in pain, but he's going to be fine. I've gone two dozen times in the last few months at least and every single time I get turned away at the door."

It was Wilson's turn to let his stare drop to the floor. "It's hard for him."

"Why?" She was almost pleading.

"Cuddy, because…" Wilson looked around for answer but didn't have one to give. "You represent everything in his life he thinks he can't have."


House leaned his head down on the small desk in his small room. It was more like a cell than a bedroom. Dark, enclosed, restricted. He lined up three pills he had to take twice a day now. Anti-psychotics, mood stabilizers, and a muscle relaxant. No narcotics. And once he left here tomorrow, no life to speak of.

A tap and his door disturbed his reverie and he sat up in his chair. Dr. Mason Kelly pushed open the door and peeked inside the room. "You haven't taken your medications," he observed.

"No." House said. He looked up at Mason Kelly. "You don't have to keep coming here," he said. "I just came to see you because you were far enough away that people wouldn't find out. But if you were any good you would've seen this coming." House pushed each pill around the desk in turn and scratched a hand across his days old scruff. Every now and then House could still feel the way her fingers scraped across his jaw. He could feel how afraid she was for him.

"How could I have?" Mason asked him. "I saw you every week for months and you lied to me every step of the way."

"And now you feel responsible, I am so sorry," his sarcasm never wavered.

"Why don't you want to take your medication?" Mason asked.

House stared at the wall in front of him, occasionally letting his eyes drop to the line of pills on the desk. Mason Kelly was the psychiatrist he had started seeing after Cuddy's kid's simchat bat. He was trying to find a way to change; to deal with his pain. To be the kind of man she'd want a life with. Unfortunately being him, he wanted to control the process, to share selectively; and things just didn't work like that. But since he admitted himself here four months ago Mason Kelly had been a regular presence. As much as House hated to admit it, this man did have a way of making him open up that few people possessed.

"I can't practice on antipsychotics. Off them I see dead people, and have imaginary sex, so clearly I can't practice if I stop taking them either." He glanced over at Mason. "I—I don't know what I'm gonna do now."

"You want to stay longer? Just say the word, and I'll resend you discharge order."

House shook his head. "No. There's nothing else I can do here."

"I agree," Mason pulled a chair up next to House. "but there is another option." House looked over and raised his eyebrows. "Stop all medications."

"Excuse me?'

"Greg, your psychotic break was a result of a combination of prolonged drug abuse, brain trauma, and post-traumatic stress. You've detoxed. We've been dealing with the events that caused this to happen. In your case, this is a temporary condition, something that was caused by external forces. It isn't a neurological disorder."

"And what if it starts happening again?"

"As long as you stay away from the opiates, and barring any further trauma, I don't believe it will. But it's your call. You want to keep taking the meds, I'll keep prescribing them and you can spend the rest of your life watching medical dramas on tv instead of being a doctor. Or you can decide that you are going to be stronger than you think you are."

House stared at the line of pills on the desk again before sweeping them into the palm of his hand. He shook them there and gauged their weight. Heavy. He extended his fist out to Mason and dropped the pills into his hand.

Mason smiled and stood up. "Oh by the way," he said stopping at the door. "The desk clerk told me that Dr. Cuddy stopped by again yesterday."

House clenched his jaw. "I know."