A/N: Inspired by Cuddy's note to Kutner. It made me sniffle.
Summary: "No, baby girl, he's not coming back." Cuddy & Rachel motherly drabble, 5x20
Disclaimer: Still don't own House…
.:X:.
memento
.:X:.
The Hindu priest said to write just a small little note to Kutner if she wanted to.
Cuddy didn't know what to write. She wasn't that close to Kutner, not as close as Dr. Taub or Dr. Hadley had been. What do you write to a person you don't really know?
She walked in, placed the memento and stationary carefully on the coffee table in front of the couch and went to go get Rachel from her crib. She lifted her up from the blankets, smiling despite herself at the delighted little cry Rachel let out, wrapping her hands around her mother's neck.
Cuddy bounced her lightly as she made her way back to the living room, trying to distract her mind from the past few days. However, when she got to the living room, it all tried to come crashing back in when she saw the memento from the memorial service. She fought it down.
To her shock, Rachel made a motion towards the little fold-up, with Kutner's face on the front. She cooed softly, looking back up at her foster mother with bright little eyes. Cuddy was stunned, looking from her daughter to the picture and back.
After a moment, the Dean of Medicine just smiled sadly and lightly plopped herself down on the couch, still holding Rachel, picking up the little folder and staring at the cover. Kutner's smiling face stared back up at her.
Rachel made a little gesture and Cuddy handed the folder silently to her. The baby took it and gummed at the corner softly, looking up at Cuddy with an adoring look anyone would expect of a child that young. She stared up at her mother, removing the folder from her mouth and tilting her head slightly.
Cuddy said out loud, partially to herself, "No, baby girl, he's not coming back."
Rachel didn't understand the words of course, but she did, in some strange, nearly impossible way, seem to understand the tone. She didn't put the folder back in her mouth, just looked up at her mother as Cuddy sighed deeply and picked up the pen lying on the table. Leaning down, she scribbled a small note on the stationary, remembering for a moment. Remembering a friendly, easy-going doctor with dark skin and eyes, bouncing a bright-eyed, laughing baby on his knee as he waved Cuddy away to go do whatever it was she needed to. She wrote, remembering how Rachel never once cried when she left, as long as he was there.
I think what I remember most was your kindness. When I first adopted Rachel, a lot of people offered to help, to babysit. But you're the only one who actually did. Nobody made Rachel laugh like you. We'll both miss you.
Cuddy
Rachel began to cry, and Cuddy got up to go grab a bottle from the fridge, wiping at her face.
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end
.:X:.A/N: I never really stopped to think about Cuddy's reaction to all of this.
Reviews are lovely.
