A/N:So, I know that I've disappeared for a very long time, and for anyone waiting for an update on With Shallow Breath, I Love You, it's coming, I swear. I got a bad case of writer's block, and couldn't write / didn't want to write anything for the longest time.

This is my first attempt at writing for House. I have been binge watching the show on Netflix (over halfway through with season 7) and I just had to write a Huddy fic, since I adore them and I'm officially sad that they broke up. Constructive Crit/feedback is always welcome ... politeness is a plus. I have a secondary fic idea, that I might write if I get enough interest from this piece. It's a three parter. I'll be posting the other two chapters later on. Until then, enjoy this first chapter, and try not to post spoilers to the remaining season 7 & season 8 episodes please.

A sigh erupted from House's mouth, as he limped forward. He tried to forget about the aching pain in his right leg, but with everything that had happened over the past week, it was getting harder and harder to ignore. When he was with Cuddy, he was happy. The pain didn't bother him so much because he actually had something to look forward too. That ship sailed when he couldn't even be bothered to be there for her, like she had been for him many times in the past.

"You really screwed yourself this time." He mumbled to himself, as he kicked at a few rocks on the sidewalk.

The week from hell, as he was now officially referring to it, started when Cuddy had cornered him in the clinic and yelled at him for a procedure that he had his team do without her permission. He had tried to play it off in his usual fashion. Mocking her and her sensibilities as a doctor. The look of death that crossed her face at his statements were the only indication that he had crossed a line.

In all the years that he had known Lisa Cuddy, he had never pushed her over that line. Sure, he had come close to it many times. In fact, House wasn't even sure how he had been able to keep his job after some of things he had said to her, but needless to say, he had pushed well passed her breaking point. She hadn't spoken two words to him since that incident.

The team had gotten barked at by Cuddy as well for listening to him. He hadn't heard the entire conversation she had with them, but what he did catch made his inside cringe. Words like idiotic and failure weren't generally thrown around in correlation with his name, but he could see where Cuddy might be correct. The test had been extremely risky … his favorite kind to run, and it really hadn't helped them diagnose the patient at all. In fact, House felt lucky that they had been able to save him considering the circumstances.

Now the team was only speaking to him about work related stuff, and only enough to get the point across. In fact, he had caught them playing rock, paper, scissors to see who would have to bring him the new information on their next patient.

Normally, he didn't let stuff like that get to him, and to be fair, it really hadn't bothered him until today. Today was the day that he had finally crossed that uncrossable line with his best friend. Today was the day that James Wilson walked out of his office after swearing that their friendship was over. Sure, he had said the same thing before, but House had been able to see through Wilson's anger into the real problem. At that point Wilson was afraid of losing House to something as stupid as a drug overdose. Today was different. The words were biting, and left House feeling cold. Today Wilson meant it, and House didn't know how to fix it.

Cuddy groaned softly, as she stared at the never-ending pile of paperwork on her desk. It was one of House's favorite ways to get back at her. Turning in all of his paperwork at one time, insuring that she would be there half the night trying to sort through it all.

The thought of House brought her back to their fight only five days earlier. She hadn't wanted to fight with House, she never really wanted to fight with the man. Not really … not when she still loved him. He made it increasingly more difficult when he tried his hardest to hurt her. Most of the time, Cuddy was able to let his words roll off her back without a second thought, but this time it was different. This time the words weren't the hollow words of a snark-filled comment. This time the words rang true.

House took an edgy step backward, as Cuddy's finger jabbed at his chest. He scowled at her, as he tried to forget about the nurses that were staring at them. Swallowing thickly, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, he sneered at her before speaking.

"How in the hell would you know anything about what is or isn't a relative emergency procedure? It's not like your an actual doctor. All you do is sit behind your desk … on your fat ass! I'd be surprised if you even knew how to diagnose something as simple as strep throat now."

Cuddy could tell from the look on his face and the way the words spilled from his mouth that he meant every word. Whether or not it was his intention to hurt her, she didn't know. He didn't even wait for a response after he had verbally attacked her, House had simply turned away from her and walked out of the clinic. She was left feeling hollow, cold, and hurt. It was in that moment that Cuddy had made a decision to stop speaking to House. When she had spoken to his team about them always blindly following House's lead, she had asked Chase specifically if he would relay important information to her about any of House's future cases.

Five days had passed without her having to actually talk to House, and it actually felt nice. It was peaceful to not have to fight with him every single day.

A light knock on her door signaled a visitor. "Come in," she answered, not even lifting her head from the pile of paperwork that still littered her desk.

"Cuddy." The voice was light and soft. One she knew well.

"What is it, Wilson?" She knew her tone came off harder than she intended it to, but if he was there to try to get her to talk to House again she might actually be forced to yell at him.

A sigh erupted from in front of her. Lifting her head, she noted that Wilson wasn't alone. House's entire team was with them … every last one of them had guilty looks on their faces. Cuddy wasn't sure she wanted to hear what was about to be said.

"We're worried."

Yeah, she definitely didn't want to hear it. "What has he done this time?"

Wilson's mouth open, but shut rather quickly. Foreman took a step forward, and spoke of House's best friend. "After you yelled at us for running that procedure, we all kind of stopped talking to House, unless we had to-"

Wilson interrupted Foreman, "We had a huge fight earlier today. I told him that we weren't friends anymore. I didn't mean it … well I mean, at the time I did, but now-"

Cuddy held up a hand to silence Wilson from speaking further. "Why are you worried? What, you think that House can't handle the silent treatment for a few days? He's a big boy."

Wilson shook his head, "A big boy who is on Vicodin again."

Cuddy had known that House was using again, but he had been a Vicodin addict for years. That didn't mean she didn't worry about it … or about him, it just meant that she couldn't spend all her time worrying about what House might or might not be doing. "Has anyone spoken to him since he left the hospital?"

Everyone's eyes met each other's in a questioning manor, before peering back at Cuddy. "A few of us have tried his cell and home numbers. He isn't picking up."

Cuddy sighed, it was definitely going to be a long night. "Alright, well that doesn't necessarily mean anything is wrong. He might just be avoiding everyone right now, you know how he gets. Give it another hour, if he doesn't pick up, then we'll worry."

The words echoed in her head as her heels pounded against the tile floor. She had seen House in many types of medical predicaments, but something about what the emergency room doctor had said caused her inside to cease up. All she knew for sure was that House was in critical condition. That he had apparently been mugged and beaten. The only thing she could truly think about was how she had told everyone to not worry about House while he had been lying on the sidewalk, beaten.

As she stomped into the ER, she spied Wilson, who looked whiter than a ghost. A lump formed in her throat as she approached him.

"How is he?"

Wilson shook his head. "Not good. They just ran him into emergency surgery. Possible swelling and pressure on his brain. They have to relieve it. There is barely an inch of his face that isn't black and blue … or bloody. That isn't including the broken bones. He is going to be in a lot of pain when he wakes up. I don't know how he's going to take it."

Cuddy sighed, "We'll take care of him together. We owe him that much." She didn't say the words, but Cuddy couldn't help but feel like maybe … just maybe this was partially her fault. Maybe if she had let the guys worry more when they couldn't get a hold of House, maybe they would have been able to stop his attack.