"…with me…."

"Hmm?"

"…stay with me…"

"I haven't gone any where…"

House walked into the familiar office with the windows at the back and the desk situated perfectly in the middle. Cuddy was sitting behind her desk working on some papers before she noticed House gently close the door behind him. She stopped writing and put her papers away as he cautiously stepped into the room.

He began to look around for clues, hints as to why he was here and what was going on. His eyes finally settled back on Cuddy's who was looking right back at him with a look of expecting on her face. He studied her for a few seconds.

"…this is another dream, isn't it?"

"I thought I was supposed to be in a school girl outfit if this was one of your dreams."

"Hmm, that is true… you do seem to be a little… over dressed for the occasion… However, the fact that I was just in a hospital bed about two seconds ago does lead me to believe that this is, in fact, a dream."

"…don't give up…"

House looked at her with confusion in his eyes. He knew he had just heard her voice, but it was distant. He had watched her mouth as the sound hit his ears and she had not moved, knowing suddenly dawned on him.

"That far off voice was the real you, wasn't it?"

House asked with his usual smug expression. This wasn't that hard to figure out. A classic case of misplaced sound mixed with delusion, a common symptom of head trauma cases.

Cuddy nodded gently before she looked back up at him and smiled. Not the smile she gave when she finally got him to do her bidding, not the smile she gave when she was playing with him, but the other smile. This was the smile she saved for when he would do those REALLY outlandish things… such as be genuinely nice to her.

Her lips began to move this time.

"I don't want you to leave me…"

The room began to get fuzzy and spin

"Please, stay with me."

The voice began to get more solid, and faintly he began to hear the sound of a heart monitor beeping gently. The throb of his head came back with full force as he struggled vaguely to open his heavy eyes. As he did, he heard her breath catch.

"Don't…you… have a hospital… to run?"

He asked in barely more than a whisper. As he did, his eyes gently opened. Her face was glistening with tears. He was back in the hospital bed. As he thought, he was still in the ICU, and still under intensive care. But what did surprise him was that Cuddy was still here. He looked down gingerly, trying not to move his head, and noticed that she was holding his hand. He looked back up at her face to see her smile.

"I'm not sure if you know this, but without you screwing things up, this place is a well oiled machine. It doesn't really need me unless something is wrong."

He smirked, let go of her hand and gently brought his own up to his head to inspect the damage.

"Don't. The seizure you had made your head shake so much that your brain bled. You've been in and out for more than a week".

He put his hand back down at his side and looked around the ICU as much as he could without moving his head. He knew that if it was as bad as what she said then he would need to prevent any further damage to his head.

There was no one else here. He hadn't really expected there to be anyone. Cuddy was surprise enough. He was sure that Foreman and the rest of his minions were doing their job, and not particularly caring that he wasn't present. Cameron and Chase were likely doing the same and Wilson…

"…How is he?"

Cuddy obviously didn't need clarification. She looked down as she spoke.

"He's been in here a few times… never said anything though. He hasn't been back in a few days, but that's relatively understandable. He turned off the life support himself… My guess is that he's been resting for the last few days."

House didn't respond. He didn't voice the pain that was building inside his chest. He had seen the pain in Wilson's eyes as he looked at him. House had only been conscious for a few minutes at the time, but Wilson didn't speak to him. They simply stared at each other, communication wasn't really necessary.

House knew that Wilson would never look at him in quite the same way. He would never be the friend he had once been. House had played a huge role in the death of the woman he had loved, and for that he knew Wilson would never truly forgive him.

House had never admitted it before, but now he knew. His loneliness was immense, an abyss that constantly threatened to engulf him, but there had always been that one person to stave it off, Wilson. But now, he was completely alone, alone with only his bitterness and self-loathing to keep him company.

Suddenly he was aware of a hand on his arm. The warmth was soothing, gently pulling him away from that pit of despair he was teetering so close to the edge of. As the hand gently pulled him back into the here and now, his eyes were again drawn to the tears on her face. A question suddenly jumped at him.

"Why were you crying?"

He watched as she immediately began to wipe her face with her hands, trying in vain to hide the evidence. He smiled slightly at the attempt.

"You saw me conscious a few days ago. You knew that I had come out of the coma then, and didn't have obvious brain damage. Why cry now?"

She smiled gently at him. She reached for his face and brushed some of the unruly hair out of his eyes. The gesture surprised House, but even more surprising was his reaction. He felt soothed, slightly more tranquil, and even comfortable.

"A few hours ago, your brain activity showed signs of slowing, and you began to go into cardiac arrest. We had to defibrillate. You've been stable for the last two hours, but your brain activity only now came back to normal."

He lifted his hands to his chest were he immediately felt the burn from the defibrillator. She was right. He had almost died today and she had been here through all of it. She seemed to be the only one who had cared whether he lived or died, not that it really surprised him. He was an ass. It should have been him who had the plug pulled, not Amber.

He looked back at her. As if reading his mind, she spoke.

"Everyone has been in here to see you at least 3 times. Cameron almost starved to death. I finally threatened her job just so she would go home and bathe. Chase, of course, did the surgery on the back of your head that saved you, and Foreman has been your attending. So, your three stooges have followed him in here every time he's come to check on you… and a few times of their own accord."

She smiled at his disbelieving look. He had been sure that no one would care that much about him. Not when he had caused Amber's death. Cuddy responded to his look of shock.

"You're an ass, House… you're not a monster. People here do care about you."

House gently leaned his head back into the pillow. He stared straight ahead of him, not wanting to let those words become anymore then what they were, a lie told to soothe his conscience… but they were still nice. Cuddy had done a lot for him these past few days. He was sure of it.

She had been by his side the entire time. She had cared for him in a way that no one else had bothered, besides Cameron, but House had already accepted her status as the lost love struck puppy that would follow him anywhere. Cuddy's show of kindness meant something much more. House smiled to himself.

He beckoned her to lean closer to him so he could speak. She obliged and moved in, slowly. His piercing blue eyes stared at her in a way that was unique to him, the same way that always managed to send a small shiver up her spine. He looked at her intensely and patiently, waiting for her to get just close enough to his mouth. She was finally close enough to where he could whisper in her ear.

She felt his warm breath on the side of her face and close her eyes. She kicked herself mentally for letting her emotions take her away like this. Before he spoke, he gently lifted a hand and brushed away a few stray hairs so he had full access to her ear. This simple motion required Cuddy to use all her focus in order to not involuntarily shudder, which she lost control of as the same hand began to travel lightly down her neck.

She could almost feel him smile next to her ear. He knew what he was doing to her, and he was taking his sweet time letting that hand fall further and further to her shoulder. Finally he gently began to whisper.

"Go home, Cuddy. You need a shower. You're starting to smell like feet and rotten eggs."

Cuddy smacked his arm as she drew away. House chuckled at her anger. She sat and fumed for a few seconds, but her expression began to soften as she realized that this was actually a good thing. This was the old House. He would be fine, and his acerbic jokes were the proof of that.

"I'll leave when you fall back to sleep. You need to get some rest, and knowing you, now that you're up, it'll take 10 Vicodin and 3 shots of whisky to put you back out."

"Are you offering?"

"No! Just go back to sleep, House."

House put on his best puppy dog expression before he said.

"But I'm not sweepy, mommy."

Cuddy rolled her eyes.

"Can I have some warm milk? A bed time story? You know my last nurse used to tuck me in… if you know what I mean?"

"How about I punch you in the face, and knock you out? I could do that."

Cuddy said with her characteristic eyebrow tweek. House looked sufficiently put off as he settled back into his bed. He let out a small sigh before closing his eyes. Cuddy also began to settle back down in her own chair, before she heard,

"I guess I'll just have to go back to dreams of you in that school-girl outfit again. It makes your ass look great."