Title: Sleepless
Fandom: House
Summary: The night after she saved Emma and her baby, Cuddy laid awake, sleepless. Post-ep for 3x17 "Fetal Position".
Rating: PG
Pairings/Characters: House/Cuddy
Length: 1,300 words
Genres:drama (for lack of a better term)
A/N: I couldn't for the LIFE of me come up with a better title, and it's still driving me nuts. But I have to get off the computer really soon, so I don't have time to mess around thinking of a better title. Meh! Anyway, enjoy.

Sleepless

The night after Lisa Cuddy saved Emma and her baby, she laid awake, staring blankly at the ceiling in her darkened bedroom. Several hours ago, she'd come home exhausted and dying to get to bed. But when she finally got there, she'd been completely unable to fall asleep. And now, at two in the morning, after hours of trying to fall asleep, she was beginning to get exasperated.

Three hours ago, she had taken a strong dose of a sleep aid. It hadn't helped at all.

Two hours ago, she'd turned on the TV and flipped through all the channels at least three times. That didn't help either. Nothing interesting was on, and she didn't really want to watch any of it anyway.

And this last hour had been spent trying everything else Cuddy could think of. Counting sheep, midnight snack, attempted thoughtlessness… None of it worked. She just couldn't fall asleep.

Sighing, she attempted to snuggle down further into her bed.

The worst part was that she knew why she couldn't sleep. She just preferred to deny it… Which was probably half the reason she was still awake. Because there were some thoughts that she just refused to let surface.

But denying it and being sleepless is much easier than admitting House is the reason for all of it, she thought to herself.

Sighing again, she rubbed a hand over her face.

Unwillingly, she had just admitted it to herself. She'd just opened the mental door that had been damming it all up, and now it was all going to come rushing out.

House's behavior on this now-solved case still dumbfounded and bothered Cuddy. He'd been far too easily defeated on this case, almost as if he wanted to give up. But he was House. He never wanted to give up.

Uncomfortable, Cuddy rolled over.

She'd told Emma that she would trust House with her own baby's life, should she ever find herself in that position. And she had whole-heartedly meant that. If ever she had a baby—and she still strongly hoped she would—Cuddy would definitely trust House with its life. She'd had no problem saying that to their patient, even in front of House.

But then he'd gone and given up.

He'd made Cuddy's words hollow and untrue. He'd turned on her when, for once, she'd said that she trusted him.

And that hurt like he'd plunged a knife right into her back. Maybe, in a sense, he had.

Cuddy rolled over again.

Apparently, she shouldn't trust House with her baby's life, should she ever have one and the situation arise. She wouldn't and couldn't trust him with her baby's life. Not after all that had happened.

But then again, she wasn't Emma, the famous photographer. She was Doctor Lisa Cuddy, Dean of Medicine and House's boss. If she had instead been the one in need, surely House would've done more. He wouldn't have given up so easily.

Would he?

The question remained unanswered, and she remained unsettled.

Barely thinking about it, Cuddy rolled over again, this time turning on a bedside lamp and reaching for her phone. She punched in a familiar sequence of numbers, still not thinking about what exactly she was doing. As it rang, though, realization struck her hard and she covered her face with a hand.

She was calling House—in the middle of the night. He'd be annoyed—even more than usual—when he answered the phone, if he even answered at all.

Embarrassed, she started to hang up the phone. His voice on the other end stopped her before she'd even pulled it all the way off of her ear.

"Hello?"

He didn't sound sleepy at all. And she thought she heard the TV in the background.

"Uh, hi, House," she mumbled, feeling awkward now that she realized what she was doing. She winced at herself, and bit down nervously on one of her fingers. She suddenly felt so stupid…

"Cuddy? Tell me what you want so I can ignore you and go back to sleep already."

She took a deep breath. She'd already come this far, calling him. She might as well go through with it and ask him what she wanted to know. "I have a question for you, House," she said. Instantly she berated herself. She should just ask the question already.

House paused shortly. "It's rather inconvenient timing, but I'm sure I could be over there quickly," he quipped snarkily.

Despite herself, Cuddy chuckled shortly. "House, this isn't a booty call. I have a serious question. And if you don't answer it seriously, I'll stick your ass with double—no, make that triple—clinic duty."

He scoffed, but didn't say anything.

She took another deep breath, steeling herself. She really did want to know this, and she would probably lay awake even longer if she didn't ask this question. She let her eyes fall closed. Yes, it was now or never.

"If I had been the patient, would you still have pushed abortion?" Her voice came out shakier than she would've liked, and immediately she started to regret asking it.

This was House she was talking to! House, who would never let her live anything down!

He was silent for a long moment, and it only sparked her fears. She'd made a mistake. She should've just left the question unasked and been sleepless. She was on the verge of blurting out something, anything that might still salvage the situation, when he spoke again.

"I know what a baby would mean to you."

The solemnity in his voice astounded her, as did his words. Never in a million years would she expect to hear that from him—he was always making fun of her attempts at motherhood. Now…

It took her a moment to realize—"House, that isn't an answer," she insisted. "Answer the damn question. Would you have pushed me to abort too?"

He was silent even longer this time. Anxiously awaiting his answer, she began to fear that he wouldn't answer at all. Only the sound of his TV in the background assured her that he hadn't hung up.

But finally, he spoke again.

"To save your life, yes, I would," he answered. "Your life would be my priority."

She blinked. Somehow, despite the fact that she knew she was talking to House, that wasn't the answer she'd been expecting. "House, if there was still a chance to save us both, you'd still—"

"The risk to your life was too great," he interrupted.

The tone that accompanied those words shocked her. It wasn't the smart, all-knowing, "Doctor House" tone she would've expected with those words, but an angered and caring one. She hadn't missed what he'd said either. "The risk to your life was too great." Not "the risk to the patient's life" or "the risk to your life would be." That too surprised her.

Had he too seen the patient as Cuddy herself? And had he acted on that, for once taking the safe way out of a situation so that he might guarantee her safety because he had a soft spot—or possibly even genuine affection!—for her?

Suddenly, given that motive, his actions all seemed crystal clear.

He had seen the patient as Cuddy. And that was exactly why he'd behaved so differently—so un-House-like.

"Oh, House…" she said softly.

"Good night, Doctor Cuddy," he said stiffly. In his usual playful manner, he added, "Don't let the bed bugs bite."

And ended the call, leaving Cuddy with the dial tone.

Still surprised and deeply touched, Cuddy turned off her phone too, laying it back down on her night stand and turning the bedside lamp off. She shifted back into a comfortable sleeping position.

Her questions had been answered. She should be able to sleep now. But, on the other hand, she also had newly gathered knowledge in mind about the way House viewed her.

And maybe that was going to make sleeping even harder.

She would just have to wait and see.

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