Inspired by this beautiful video (House/Cuddy- By My Side). Please listen while you read.
/watch?v=JBdmLA_-V7M
Every time he looked at his side, she was there. She took him in to her hospital when he needed a job. She defended him against Vogler and Tritter. She was there with him after risking his life to find out what he saw before the bus accident. She was there when he needed rehab, and even in his hallucination she was there as his savior. For years, she has been by his side, almost always helping and defending. And that night, the night he almost relapsed, she was there, too, stopping him from making a huge mistake and returning to the Vicodin. Whenever he needed her, she was there, even if he did not know that he needed her. She knew, and she was there.
He was lying on his couch, his eyes closed. He was thinking, thinking about his complicated relationship with Lisa Cuddy. He loved her, for years. He loved her for longer than he could have ever imagined he would, and could not dream of life without her, especially not now that they were in a romantic relationship. There was no need to hide anything anymore – she was his as he was hers. He needed her, and she was there, closer by his side. And he tried to be there for her, too. He was there to babysit Rachel, and he tried his best to be there for her when they thought she might be dying. He was terrified – terrified she might die, terrified he might lose her forever – but he still did his best to be there for her, even if it took him a pill and a long time.
He did not know what time it was when he heard the doorbell ring. Wondering who it was, he got up, and smiled as he saw Cuddy through the mesh. She looked better. She knew she was not dying now, and she knew he was with her, and so she looked more relaxed. He opened the door, smiling at her.
She was not smiling. "You took Vicodin," She said quietly, simply. She was not asking, she was stating a fact. She figured it out. His smile disappeared immediately. He stared at her, shame and guilt washing all over him. "When you came to my hospital room that night… you were stoned."
He looked away, for a long moment unable to response. He did not think she would ever find out. It was just something he had to do, the only way that he could be with her when she needed him. He was scared, terrified, and he could not stand the thought of losing her. So he took one. But he never intended her to find out. "How did you know?" He asked, still unable to meet her eyes.
"How did I not know?" She replied, "How did I make myself forget for months that you're an addict?" He moved away, wishing the words would not have been said. He was an addict, but for her… he did everything for her. And he could not stand hearing those words from her, even if they were true. "My subconscious was trying to tell me you could never get through this without drugs."
He turned back to her. She was still standing at the same place, not moving any closer to him. She did not even enter the apartment.
"It was a one-time thing."
"It's not about the pills, House. It's about what they mean." It was as if they were playing some sort of a game. He tried to understand, but could not see what she meant. He was scared, it was natural. Everybody gets scared. He could not just make it through on his own.
"I was scared because I thought my girlfriend might die." This was the only reason he would ever do that to her. He was terrified. It made sense.
"No." She finally stepped into his apartment. "You don't take Vicodin because you're scared. You take it so you won't feel pain. Everything you've ever done is to avoid pain — drugs, sarcasm… Keeping everybody at arm's length so no one can hurt you." She knew him, knew him way too well. He could not dream of ever living without her. But he had a bad feeling about this conversation, one he could not shake.
"As opposed to everyone else in the world who goes looking for pain like it's buried treasure?" He retorted.
"Pain happens when you care. Y-you can't love someone without making yourself open to their problems, their fears. And you're not willing to do that." There was that sad look in her eyes, one that he did not like. It fit his bad feeling. It fit… everything that has happened that day.
"I ca–I came to be with you." He wanted to say he was there for her, but even he knew he wasn't, not completely. He was there with her… under the effect of the vicodin. Even he realized that it did not count the same way.
"But you weren't with me, not really."
"I wanted to be." He tried, he really tried, and the fact he couldn't broke his heart. That and the sadness in her eyes, and his bad feeling saying there is more to it than just a discussion over the vicodin.
"That's not enough." She was quiet and sad, so sad he thought he might breakdown himself.
He was quiet for a moment. "I can do better," He tried, imploring. He really did feel bad about everything that has happened, about taking the vicodin and betraying her trust. And for her he would do better. He could do better, and for her he would try his best, do whatever he can to really be there for her the next time she needs him.
She looked at him quietly for a moment before speaking. She was in pain, and he could not understand over what. Or rather, he did not want to understand. He did not want to believe his bad feelings. "I don't think you can." He stared at her, trying to understand what she means. Of course he could… for her. For her he could change, and he would change, and everything will be fine. "You'll choose yourself over everybody else over and over again, because that's just who you are." She stared at him as he hand gently touched his neck, in a soft, loving matter. She stroked him for a moment, still not speaking. He tried to pretend that it was not happening, tried to pretend that she would never walk away, but he could see the truth in her eyes, loud and clear. She needed someone to trust, and she just could not believe that he was a person she could trust to be there for her. "I'm sorry." Her hand was now on his cheek, stroking gently.
"No. No, no, no. Don't. Don't." He was starting to panic. She would not leave him… would she? Could she?
"I thought I could do this."
"Don't. Please don't." He tried to cut her off, as if that would ever matter. He could not stand losing her. He could not think about it. He knew there was no way he could live without her now. Yet the moment he could no longer feel her touch he realized that she really was leaving him.
"Goodbye, House." She whispered. Then she turned around and left the apartment, leaving him alone. He just kept staring at the spot where she stood, unable to believe this was really happening to him. She told him she loved him, she told him she didn't want him to change. She told him she still loved him. But now… because of one damned pill, his world was falling apart, and he was breaking down over the loss of the woman that meant the world for him. He could not understand how she could love him but still leave him, still not give him a second chance to show her he could do everything for him. Yet she was gone from his side, and he was alone.