This is my first fic, please review? It starts out with Cuddy and Lucas but will be all Huddy in later chapters, with a focus on how their relationship affects Rachel. Also, English is not my first language so if you find any mistakes, please tell me!
Lucas had just managed to get Rachel to sleep when he heard the front door open. He hurried down the corridor, ready to warn Cuddy about any loud noises but the words died on his tongue when he saw how tired her eyes were, how defeated her posture. He had heard about the crane accident, of course, not only was it all over the news but it was what had destroyed their plans for a nice dinner celebrating their engagement as well, the nice steaks he'd bought still sitting in the fridge and the wine uncorked. He still hadn't thought it would affect Cuddy this badly, however. Stupid of him. Her sad look made him want to give her a hug but something warned him against it, so he just made a weak "welcome home" instead.
"Lucas, hi. Where's Marina?"
He actually had called the babysitter earlier, but she had already made plans for her rare night off. He explained this to Cuddy. "So, when she couldn't come over, I decided to stay with Rachel instead. I fed her, she took a nap and then we looked at that picture book I bought her, though she seemed more interested in tearing the pages off than flipping them." For a moment he could've sworn he saw tears in her eyes, but she quickly turned her head and pointed out that Rachel was under a year old so tearing books was pretty normal. Her tone was light but he could definitely sense that something wasn't right here. He was about to ask her about it when she suddenly announced she was going to go wash the grit out of her hair and scrambled to the bathroom.
Lucas had spent too much time with Cuddy to not be able to tell she wasn't in the mood for talking, so while she was in the shower he made some popcorn and found on TiVo today's episode of her favorite show she'd missed while working at the crane site. She came out in her bathrobe and sat down next to him on the couch, urging him to press play. They sat wordlessly, not even commenting on the glaring mediocrity of the acting until the credits started rolling.
"Somebody died today." He was startled by her sudden declaration, and wasn't sure what to say. "I know. A lot of people died." It was redundant and he knew it, but it would have to do. There was a pause before she got the courage to answer. "Yes, but only one of them was House's patient. Hannah." He sighed. So that was what this was about. He should have guessed. "How is he?" He did actually care, as strange as it was. House had been, if not a friend to him, at least an interesting acquaintance. It was her turn to sigh. "Not that good, apparently. He told Foreman to piss off when he asked how he was doing." Lucas snorted. "What else is new?"
Cuddy fell silent again.
Lucas reached for the remote and flipped channels until he found something both of them could tolerate: Discovery channel. They spent a while learning about the mating habits of deep sea fish, until Cuddy spoke up again. "Lucas, I…"
"If it's about House I really don't want to hear it", Lucas snapped. "It's not." Cuddy's voice had a note of regret in it. "It's about us. I don't think this will work." Lucas stiffened. "You want to break off the engagement? After one day?" Cuddy nodded and cast her eyes down. "What about the house we bought? And Rachel? And… You know you'll never be happy with him, right?" Her eyes welled up with tears again. "I know," she whispered. Lucas felt his anger melt away, and his heart filled up with defeat instead. He lifted his hand to her cheek. "But I love you." He didn't really expect it to mean anything now. His hand fell back down and he turned away. "Well, go, then." His voice was gruff. "I'll stay and look after Rachel."
Cuddy got up instantly and made her way to the door. She grabbed her coat and car keys and turned back to face Lucas. He was looking down at his hands. She was going to say something but thought better of it, and stepped out in to the cold.
She found him sitting in the floor in his bathroom, a shattered mirror all around him and two small pills on the palm of his hand. She had guessed today would finally break him, but for once knowing she had been right didn't make her feel any better. She had made a short detour to the hospital, not only to pick up some supplies for his wound but also to change out of her bathrobe into a set of pink scrubs, since barging in to his house half naked could give the wrong impression. Now she wish she hadn't, since if he had already taken some of the pills he'd never believe she was actually there. She wandered if her getting there a bit earlier would have changed the situation, but since she had no way of knowing how long he had been just sitting there on the floor she decided not to dwell on it. Besides, she could tell from the obvious pain he was in that it was unlikely he'd already had some Vicodin in his system, since his tolerance for the stuff was gone from a year of abstinence. That thought was what stopped her from just taking them from his hand. "He can do this," she thought. That's why, when he asked, she just told him it was a choice he had to make for himself.
"Just so you know I find it hard to see the downside," he said. There was a bitter note in his voice, and she wanted to ask him why he hadn't just taken them already in that case. Since that would just lead to another fight, she told him she had to re-bandage his shoulder. He jumped to the conclusion that Foreman had sent her, which would've been amusing in any other situation. Now she just told him no. "You're here to yell at me again?" Both the words and his voice sounded childlike, vulnerable. Another no. "Well then I'm running out of ideas." She was a bit shocked: were those really the only reasons he could imagine her coming to him for? Then again, she hadn't exactly given him much hope today. Had worked to take away as much of it as she could, to be precise. She had thought she was being kind, towards both of them, but it did make this a lot more difficult. "Lucas…" He interrupted her, jumping to conclusions as usual. "Oh great, you're feeling uncomfortable again. Probably means you just got back from a quickie wedding in Vegas or you're already pregnant -"
"I ended it," she said, abruptly. For the first time he lifted his eyes to her face, his face an almost comical expression of surprise. Being able to surprise him gave her some satisfaction, even in this situation. Especially in this situation. "I'm stuck, House." His expression stayed the same during her little explanation, his emotions too battered to actually accept that this was a real chance for happiness. "I just wanted to know if you and I could work," she admitted at last. His eyes left hers and focused on the opposite wall. "You think I can fix myself?" She wasn't sure if it was a question, but she answered honestly anyway. "I don't know."
"'Cause I'm the most screwed up person in the world." She smiled a little. "I know."
"I love you." He was staring at her. "I wish I didn't. But I can't help it." She couldn't lie to him, but it didn't seem to matter. His eyes were wide, unbelieving. He tried to get up, then sighed and reached out his hand. She pulled him up to herself. Their kiss was cautious, questioning. He still couldn't quite believe this was happening. "How do I know I'm not hallucinating?"
"Did you take the Vicodin?" She had felt the pills in his hand when she pulled him to her from the floor. "Nope." He let the pills fall from his grasp.
