A/N: I didn't mean for the last chapter of Stay to be the last chapter, but it's looking that way right now. anything I try to add feels like beating a dead horse. So I was re-watching my favorite episodes and of course Humpty Dumpty was one of them. And a fic idea was born. I'm not sure if it's a one shot or a series - a sort of Woulda Coulda Shoulda... I'm deciding. Input would help.
Disclaimer: House and all characters are property of David Shore and FOX. No infringement is intended. Some dialog ahem borrowed from season 2 Episode 3 - Humpty Dumpty
"Cuddy." He had paused at the door , turning around almost reluctantly as she looked up."Your guilt. It's perverse, and it makes you a crappy doctor." She wanted to feel an anger rise up in her, but she couldn't even seem to muster that up at the moment. He was right anyway – he wasn't telling her anything she didn't already know. He looked down and away, and she held her breath for a moment before he looked at her again before speaking. "It also makes you okay at what you do."
"You figure a perverted sense of guilt makes me a good boss?" She spoke without surprise, wondering why he was even bringing this up.
"Now would the world be a better place if people never felt guilty? Makes sex better." He was surprisingly non combative for a moment, before he pointed at Stacy with a gleam of the House she was more accustomed to. "Should have seen her in the last months of our relationship. Lot of guilt. Lot of screaming." Cuddy had almost forgotten Stacy was there until he pointed her out. He sighed, moving forward. "I know this wasn't just because it was your roof."
She had to look away for a moment, his eyes were too understanding, an expression she hadn't seen on his face in years. She wanted to believe he had an angle here, had to believe it. So she turned back to him, stealing herself for the punchline. Ready for it. "Cuddy…" He paused after he rolled out her name and she was thankful for it. She wondered if it was as difficult for him to say as it was for her to hear. "You see the world as it is and you see the world as it could be. What you don't see is what everybody else sees. The giant, gaping chasm in between." She heard his slight sigh and she wanted desperately to get them back on their normal footing. This was not a House she was used to.
"House, I'm not naive. I realize-"
"If you did, you never would have hired me." He interrupted her gently and she paused for a moment. She knew why he thought she hired him. She also knew that she would never tell him the actual reason. She had known – known how difficult he would be, how irritating and challenging and worth it. She hadn't hired him because she believed deep down he could be a better person, or even because of the night they never mentioned. Not seriously. She had hired him because he pushed her, made her a better doctor, and she needed that. Needed him.
"You're not happy unless things are just right. Which means two things. You're a good boss. And you'll never be happy." She wanted to smile at how obviously difficult it was for him to say the words, but she couldn't seem to find it within herself to be triumphant at his attempt to make her feel better. He turned, his good deed obviously done for the day and made his way to the door.
"By the way, why does everybody think you and I had sex? Think there could be something to it? I don't know." She smiled slightly, wanting to retort, but he exited quickly before she had the chance. Stacy looked at her for a moment and the smile slid off her face quickly. Guilt rose up in her again, but it was a different guilt than the one she had been so keenly feeling when he walked in. And maybe that was his plan all along.
She had been standing in her kitchen when the dripping started, watching the hot water in her mug darken as the tea seeped into it, coloring it a dirty brown. She hadn't added milk or sugar, it wasn't really worth the effort. She had only boiled the water in the first place because she needed some physical excuse for being awake. The rain had been pounding on her roof for hours, and when she heard the first sound of a drop hitting the wooden table it was an oddly hollow sound. She picked up her mug, reaching under her counter and grabbing a pot almost as an after thought.
She didn't even wipe the water there off before placing the pot there. It would probably stain her table, and cause the wood to swell, but she couldn't seem to bring herself to care. She was exhausted, it wasn't even morning but already she could tell what little sleep she had gotten wasn't going to help. A restless feeling curled up underneath her ribs, not letting her rest, but not enough to keep her awake either. Sighing, she turned away from her kitchen, leaving the light on as she made her way down the hall slowly. She was almost to her bedroom when she heard the key slide into the lock. She wanted to be upset, offended, affronted. All she felt was an intense wave of relief.
"Thought you would have moved the key." His voice was soft behind her, and she shrugged, turning around slowly. He was soaked – rain had plastered his hair to his head and he looked paler in the lack of light. She frowned for a moment, wondering why he was here, but she didn't want to ask him that. Or she didn't want to hear the answer. She placed her mug on the hall table, before turning and moving back down the hall until she reached a small door. Opening her closet, she grabbed a towel from the shelf before padding back up the hall silently and offering it to him.
"Like that would stop you." She offered the dry words along with the towel and he watched her wearily before accepting it gratefully. Or at least she imagined the gratitude.
"Well seems a shame to waste all that time and effort I put into finding your address." He didn't smile or give any indication it was a joke, but she smiled anyway. "Nice outfit by the way. Did your grandmother leave you that nightie or were you just browsing the maternity section and wishing?"
"Nice." She shook her head, turning abruptly and heading into her darkened living room and resisting the urge to wrap a blanket around herself. She sat heavily in an arm chair and he followed her, standing before her uncomfortably.
"Why are you awake?" His voice seemed unnecessarily loud in the room, and the faint sound of water pinging against metal seemed to echo his rudeness.
"Why are you here?" She answered his unanswerable question with one of her own and he nodded in understanding. The look was back on his face , the one that said he knew her better than he'd like to, than she'd like him to.
"There's no way you could have known." His voice was as awkward as his stance in front of her. Leaning heavily on his cane while he strove to fit into the room. It was a platitude, something he said to make her feel better even though he knew it wouldn't work. She sighed, curling her legs under her and staring up at him, wishing he'd sit or move across the room. Anything to stop her from having to peer straight up.
"Don't lie."
"You didn't even want to amputate-"
"I agreed." She let out a stiff breath, and stared at the floor in front of her. "I agreed because when it comes down to it- I believe you are a better doctor than I am." She shook her head slightly, unwilling to meet his eyes. "What does that say about me?" His hand on her shoulder was unexpected, but not unwelcome. He never touched her – he wasn't an affectionate person to begin with, but they had the added tension of nights best left in the past added to it.
"Cuddy.." She shivered at the sound of her name. It was the second time that day he had said it like that, slow and reluctant, but comforting. He made it sound like an endearment, and she wanted to shout at him to stop. To never say it like that again, to never stop saying it that way. Instead she stood, his hand sliding off her shoulder and her skin missing the warmth of it already. She felt more in control when she stood next to him, she didn't have to look up quite so far, she could attach her gaze to his shirt front instead of feeling her eyes compelled up to his.
"House, please.." Her voice was a whisper and even she wasn't sure what she was asking. Please what? Stop? Keep going? She wanted him to go away, with his all seeing eyes and his uncharacteristic gentleness. She didn't want to be alone either. She frowned, wondering if she should have taken Stacy up on her offer of dinner that night. Stacy was trying to be her friend, to slip back into their old roles. But none of them were the same anymore. The infarction had scarred them all.
"I shouldn't have come." He sounded sure of this, and she nodded in perfect agreement. They had rules, boundaries that had structured their interactions for as long as she could remember. He had never violated them once they were in place, but him being here- in the middle of the night, in her private space – it broke them all. Still, she couldn't bring herself to be anything other than glad he was with her now.
"I'm glad." She met his eyes then, dragging her own up past the frayed collar of his shirt, past his Adam's apple and his chin, his mouth and over his nose. His eyes looked navy in the dark room, only illuminated by the faint street light and the glow from the kitchen, three rooms away. "You still love her, don't you?" She brought up the forbidden subject of Stacy. She had always been a taboo subject for them – even before... but if they were breaking one rule tonight, why not break them all?
"No- why.." He swallowed, looking away from her own searching gaze.
"She told you to do it, right? Make me feel better? You aren't ever this nice without prompting-"
"She did ask. That's not why I said it though." His hand brushed her hair for a moment and she couldn't quite decide if it was accidental or not. "Why did you hire her?" She wanted to smile for a moment, but pressure squeezed her ribs and she couldn't manage it.
"Why do I do anything House? Guilt. Guilt for advising her, guilt for costing her- taking from her-" She stumbled over the words and she wanted to hold on to something, anything to anchor herself but she she kept her hands at her sides, wrapped around herself protectively.
"You didn't take anything-"
"Which time?" She felt like she was burning from the inside out, the feeling acidic and painful. There were so many times to choose from. Her offering Stacy the third option, listening as her friend cried and told her she couldn't do it anymore, her anger when she left, her accepting Stacy's friendship in the first place.
"Any of them." His answer was soft and sure but she shook her head in denial. "Why are you responsible for everything? Do you think you matter that much-" He sucked in a breath at the same time as she did, and she felt his words sting their way through her skin, lancing into her soul.
"I'm not responsible for everything House. Just the things I had a direct hand in. The destruction of your relationship, of your life. Those are things that I helped do. Alfredo... you.. Stacy. I destroyed those lives-"
"What about your own? You think that this is needed? Or even wanted? Do you think he hates you? That Stacy hates you?" His hands had landed on her shoulders again and the warmth burned her chilled skin. His grip tightened and his voice was intense and she felt a strange disconnection from the moment and the clear and present danger wrapped around them.
"I think they should. I think they would – if they knew. I think you.." She stopped herself, strangling the words in her throat. His grip loosened but he didn't let go, and they faced off in the dark room. It was a battle that had been threatening to turn into a war for years.
"It's perverse in the sense that it's wrong and yet you still stubbornly carry it with you Cuddy. I don't- I've never-" He struggled obviously with the words. Their strength just wasn't up to this conversation, not tonight. Not right now. But he had crossed the invisible line by showing up here tonight, and now she felt inertia pushing them forward. They were in motion now, and couldn't stop the movement.
He leaned down, or pulled her forward – afterward she was never quite sure which. Maybe she had even rose up to his level. When his lips met hers she felt her entire being vibrate with remembered pleasure. She couldn't form a single thought, she could only grasp at the fragments floating past, like how odd it was that he was hot and she was cold, shouldn't it be reversed? She felt the abrasion from his stubble, but she welcomed the slight irritation and pain – it wouldn't be them without it. She thought she might feel very guilty about this tomorrow, but for now her hands were around his neck and pulling him closer and his were burying themselves in the filmy fabric of her night gown, heating her skin even through fabric.
She didn't breath, didn't think, she just opened her mouth under his and almost moaned at the taste of him. She might have, she just wasn't sure. His tongue against hers was welcome, like rain after a drought, and it sent a single thrill all the way down to her center. She wondered if kissing him would ever get old – if she would ever not feel that thrill, because she has never not felt it before this. She felt lightheaded and knew it was from lack of oxygen, but she needed him more than she needed to breathe right now.
It was a mistake, she knew that. What was done, was done though and she couldn't quite bring herself to stop. His fingers were sliding under the hem of her nightgown and she didn't want to stop – but the need for oxygen took the choice away. She was breathing heavily and so was he but he dropped his hands and stepped back first. He was always first – first to speak, first to leave, first to touch. She didn't argue with him though, didn't even try to get him to stay. She stood there in the semi-dark, listening to the echo of her door. He still had her key.
She picked up the towel from the floor and locked the door behind him. She slipped silently down the hall, before laying in bed with echoes of water on metal and harsh breathing ringing in her head. She hugged the towel, it was cold and damp but smelled like him. It was a cold comfort for what was suddenly an aching chasm in her life, but it was all she had as she finally fell asleep.
