DISCLAIMER: Song not mine, nothing in this fic belongs to me, simple as that. If it had, those two would have gone for a romp in the sack before you could say 'Huddy'. As you can see, they haven't, so no, my dream hasn't come true yet.


Sing it for me,
I can't erase the stupid things I say.
You're better than me,
I struggle just to find a better way.

(House's POV)
A heavy stench of alcohol hung over the dimly lit living room of Gregory House's apartment - the one light source being a lamp that stood by the couch, on which sat the misanthropic doctor himself. His hair was disheveled and his appearance was... sloppy, to say the least. The first two buttons of his shirt were undone, and there was a wet stain over his chest, seeping through the material. The cuffs of his sleeves were open, and the sleeves themselves were at uneven positions over his arms. The creases in his forehead were deep and made his face looked haunted by the demons he had had to face even now as he was drinking himself into oblivion.

A groan escaped his throat and quickly disappeared into the atmosphere around him as he struggled to sit up to find his booze. Instead, his hand came across the small, orange bottle he needed so much. Deciding that this was good too, he opened the bottle with a flick of his thumb and shook two vicodin pills out onto the palm of his hand, staring at them until four became two once more. Then, with a slow and sloppy movement he shoved them into his mouth, swallowing both pills dry and chasing them down with more scotch.

"It's a good thing you failed to become a mom, 'cause you suck at it!!" He had yelled at her. And he had seen how he broke her with words uttered in such precision at such a perfect moment that she had no choice but to crumple down. He didn't regret it. Gregory House didn't regret anything. He wasn't sorry. Gregory House was never sorry. But he could agree that he had no right to say those words. But he had done and there was nothing to be done.

So here we are, fighting and trying to hide the scars
I'll be home tonight, take a breath and softly say goodbye.
The lonely road, the one that I should try to walk alone.
I'll be home tonight, take a breath and softly say goodbye.

(Cuddy's POV, plus a tiny part of House's POV)
"Why do you need to negate everything?!" Cuddy yelled at him, standing up and moving dangerously close.
"I don't know.." House confessed, inwardly cursing how close she had come, now seeing all the hurt and anger stored within her steel blue eyes that were still clouded and red from the crying at the loss of the baby girl she almost had. It almost made him want to shut his own eyes to block her emotions out. But he was drawn to her right now, unable to look away.

And then he was kissing her. Nothing more of a brush of his lips against hers, gentle and tentative. Eyes immediately shutting, Cuddy leaned forward and placed her hands on the rough stubble on his jaw, returning his kiss with much more fervor. That's how they stood there - exchanging kisses like some sort of twisted, emotionally broken version of two teenagers standing in the school hallway - until they came apart for much needed air.

Cuddy found she wanted, no, she needed many more moments like this in the future, she needed to feel his stubble rubbing against her chin, she needed his tongue embracing hers, she needed him.
But he was pulling away. Like he always did, her mind reminded her bitterly.

'Goodnight.' House said and promptly left her home. The sound of her front door shutting made her shudder, for some reason.
'G-goodnight...' She replied shakily, sliding down into a sitting position against her wall.
What the hell had House done to her?

You wouldn't like me.
Keep moving on until forever ends.
Don't try to fight me.
The beauty queen has lost her crown again.

(House's POV)
"House, just do your clinic hours. Please?" House heard her ask from the door of her office.

"Yes, I bet you want to get back to the Demon baby." He replied with unnecessary spite. He had almost no vicodin left and Wilson, or anyone else, wouldn't write him a perscription. They decided to force him to go and seek help. And now, he was angry. They had no right to force him into this. He functioned much better with the amount of drugs he was on.

Cuddy sighed, and he wondered what she was thinking for a second. She lowered her head for a second, then looked at him. "Please, House. I want you to do your job."

He almost laughed. She knew what he was going to be like the second she had hired him, but still did it. "You're joking, right? Besides, I'm busy with the patient." House waved the file that was sitting, abandoned, on his desk. He hadn't touched it since she passed it on to him.

She shook her head, figuring that she thought she knew how he was feeling, that she felt what he felt - but she didn't. Only he did. "I know what you're going through..." She began, but he stubbornly didn't let her finish.

"You know nothing!" He suddenly yelled, his face twisting into anger for a second. "Don't you dare to even attempt to tell me how I'm feeling, because you're the one who caused me to be in this fucking mess!" House continued, standing up as he shouted at her. He had to unload his anger on someone, and she just happened to make him explode.

He saw her break, saw pure sadness pour across her face. And he was glad, now she'd leave him alone. She could go and cry in her office, or spill her 'problems' onto Wilson. He didn't care, as long as she felt some of the same pain he did for a while. Not of the physical kind, but emotional. Because the latter hurt more than the former sometimes.

"I'm sorry, House, for wanting to help." She spat at him, taking him by surprise. He figured she'd just shake her head and leave, thinking it would change him somehow. Apparently she had enough. "But you.. you are a sick bastard. How can you think I don't know what you're going through?! I put you in this, I'm the bad one, I know. But do you.. do you even realize how much you put me through?!" It wasn't a question. He knew that, and he watched with a surprised expression, physically backing away. "Of course you don't. You refuse to see anyone else's issues but yours. I know that, everyone does. But I'm the only one that puts up with it, and frankly," She let out a self-mocking laugh, "I don't know why. I'm the one who keeps getting hurt. And I keep coming back. But I've had enough. I hate you, House. I will let you keep your job because of the amount of people you save, but don't bother even calling me. And if you come to my house or insult me or Rachel again, I will fire you. This is your last chance." Her voice had dropped to a dangerously low level, he'd noticed. He also noticed, right now at the worst moment possible, how much he needed her to stay. But he wouldn't apologize. Ever.

"Fine." He replied, pushing past her as he exited his own office. Cuddy's very presence made his leg throb with a larger amount of pain, and he needed to get away.

When he turned around to take one last glance, he saw her sigh heavily and walk towards him. For a moment he thought, no, he hoped she would say something, anything, but Cuddy simply pushed past him with more force than was necessary and continued walking.

So why are you so eager to betray?
Pick the pieces up, pick the pieces up.
So why are you the one that walks away?
Pick the pieces up, pick the pieces up, pick the pieces up.

(Cuddy's POV)
Lisa Cuddy leant against House's office door, crossing her arms. When she'd paged the clinic 20-or-so minutes ago, the nurses there said they've haven't seen Dr. Gregory House for over 2 weeks now.

"House, just do your clinic hours. Please?" She asked in a soft tone, knowing her authorative voice wouldn't bother him.

"Yes, I bet you want to get back to the Demon baby." House replied. His words stung - no matter how many times she heard a spiteful remark, it still hurt her. She sighed almost inaudibly, knowing what caused his bad mood. Lack of his precious vicodin. He needed to change - his current lifestyle was killing him and that needed to change too - that was her original thought. But as much as she hated it, whenever he hurt, she hurt. She couldn't change that, no matter how far away from him she was.

Sighing again, Cuddy lowered her head, the situation already tiring her. She knew he was an ass when she hired him, she knew he would cause problems and take on the role of the law suit magnet and make her life a misery. But she remembered him from college - no, not only from the time they had... 'spent' together. She remembered him as a wonderful man, not yet scarred and miserable, but happy and generally a great person. He had already been a genius like he was today, with a brilliant mind to match.

When she had heard that no other hospital would take him because of his now mirrored personality - a cynical, narcissistic misanthrope who had a drug addiction - She hired him. He was still handsome, she thought when she saw him. And it took her weeks to get him to even take a walk around PPTH.

And then, he agreed. She had been happy, to say the least.

And so, she knew she couldn't give up on this now.

"Please, House. I want you to do your job." Cuddy said, a pleading note to her voice. His reaction - he looked as if he was about to laugh at her. She sighed inwardly, closing her eyes for a few seconds, then opening them when he finally replied;
"You're joking, right? Besides, I'm busy with the patient."

He waved the file, as if to tell her this held great importance over everything else. And again, he was doing this just to make her more miserable.

Cuddy was slowly breaking down, she knew he saw this and wondered whether it brought him some sort of sick, sadistic pleasure. She was already tired today, even without him constantly messing up both her work life and her personal one. A donor had changed his mind at the very last second, another one had refused to make a deal completely, and to top all of that off, an MRI machine had broken. All without House's help. But his harsh words and arrogant attitude were the last thing she needed.

"I know what you're going through..." She began, trying to coax him into talking to her about his numerous problems, thinking it could soothe him for the moment. bMaybe/b, if he did, if he did open up, he wouldn't be in so much pain...

It was a foolish thought.

And he interrupted her in a volume that shocked her.
"You know nothing!" House yelled at her. Cuddy watched him with wide eyes, trying to make sense of this sudden outburst. "Don't you dare to even attempt to tell me how I'm feeling, because you're the one who caused me to be in this fucking mess!" This was the last straw. How dare he?!

Her eyes flashed with anger, her expression mirroring his for a fraction of a second, before she burst.

"l'm sorry, House, for wanting to help." Cuddy spat viciously, surprising him. The volume of her voice raised as she continued, "But you.. you are a sick bastard. How can you think I don't know what you're going through?! I put you in this, I'm the bad one, I know. But do you.. do you even realize how much you put me through?!" She was now yelling louder than he had been, her finger pointing at him. She lost it - she knew. Normally, she never allowed herself to do this at work, but he had pushed her too far. Watching him back away slowly, Cuddy wasn't even able to stop herself, so she opted for lowering her voice into a dangerously low tone, angry beyond recognition. "Of course you don't. You refuse to see anyone else's issues but yours. I know that, everyone does. But I'm the only one that puts up with it, and frankly," She laughed now - a strange, short, bitter laugh that showed she was laughing at herself. "I don't know why. I'm the one who keeps getting hurt. And I keep coming back. But I've had enough. I hate you, House. I will let you keep your job because of the amount of people you save, but don't bother even calling me. And if you come to my house or insult me or Rachel again, I will fire you. This is your last chance." Cuddy figured she was finished, still breathing hard from her outburst, her hands on her hips.

He only said, "Fine." A short, simple answer. Exactly like she expected from him. He was such a coward. And he strode past her, and she noticed his face flash with pain for a fraction of a second as he left.

She caused him pain, and for once in her life she felt a tiny bit glad before her guilt stopped her from delving into that any further.
Sighing heavily, she spun on her heel and decided to retreat to the confines of her office. The one place where she had absolute control. As she studied his face when he watched her, he saw a glimmer of... hope? Shrugging it off, she shoved passed him and entered into the elevators, taking a deep breath to compose herself.

Just take a breath and softly say goodbye.

End.