"Ghosts of the Past"

Chapter Two – "Noises in the Attic"

By: purpleu

House pushed the button on the clicker for the garage door; it slowly began its descent down to close. He stood there for a moment, looking at the door that led to the house. He and Lydia had stopped at Dunkin' Donuts on the way home after the test and grabbed something to eat. If it weren't for the fact that he was so hungry, he'd consider hiding out in the garage for a while. The ride home was fairly quiet with Lydia doing most of the talking, and House just grunting in response. She didn't bring up his leg or the ultrasound. Instead, she commented on the work she brought home, her relief that Annie and the baby were OK, and she asked him what he wanted to eat. He was fine with the topics she brought up; he didn't want to discuss anything about his leg right now. But if he were honest, House also knew he couldn't avoid the subject for too long. She was a part of his life, and would be more than helpful in getting him through tough times in the future. He realized there were things she didn't understand from a medical point of view, and that just like everyone else she had no idea of the extent of his everyday pain. She deserved answers; House would have to brace himself to provide them.

He headed inside the house and stopped when he got to the bottom of the first set of stairs that led from the hall outside of Annie's apartment to the foyer by the front door. House let out a weary sigh. Stairs were always his enemy, and at the moment all the more so. There was no way to avoid them, so House began the long climb up. He and Lydia had talked about the plans for the new house a little bit in the past few days, and they were both beginning to see that they really had to keep the stairs to an absolute minimum. House still insisted, however, on having some space between their sleeping quarters and the kids' bedrooms. He didn't want it to be that they had to keep making arrangements for the kids to be out of the house each time they wanted to simply have some time alone. It's not that Lydia didn't warn him what it would mean to their lives with the little ones around; but a little spontaneity once in a while would be nice. Lydia heard House trudging up the stairs and called out to him.

"Hon, do you want to sit in the dining room or in the kitchen?"

"Kitchen's fine." House replied. He threw his jacket over the back of the couch and picking up his cane, made his way to the kitchen. He didn't usually use the cane in the house, just like he rarely used it in his apartment; but after the rigors his leg went through this morning, he felt like it was needed. As he entered the room, he saw Lydia's eyes fall on the cane; her expression didn't change, but he felt the pity oozing out of her pores. House pulled out a stool by the counter extension and sat down. It wouldn't be too long before he was going to need to elevate the leg.

"Here you go; one everything bagel with a 'schmear' of cream cheese," Lydia said putting a plate down in front of her boyfriend. "And here's your coffee." She retrieved her order from the main counter and came to sit on the stool opposite House. He looked at the food in front of his girlfriend.

"What did you get?"

"A pumpkin muffin and a pumpkin latte. They only have them for a limited time, so I like to get them while I can," Lydia answered trying to sound cheerful. "I picked up a bag of the coffee so I can make it here at home; and I got two cheddar bagels. The kids had tried them with Marianne the other day, and they've been bugging me to get them ever since. I thought it would be a good bedtime snack. And I got a box of Munchkins because I know you and the kids will make short work of them." House could tell Lydia was being overly chatty to tame the elephant that had taken up residence in the room. Oh hell, House said to himself, just get it over with.

"I'm sorry I grabbed your arm earlier," he said without looking at Lydia. "I was pissed at them all for not getting it; I haven't suddenly decided to let my leg get hacked apart again. It's a baby step," House said taking a breath. "To maybe finding a way to make myself and the people around me less miserable; especially since they all seem to be flocking to me lately."

"I tried not to react when you took hold of my arm," Lydia said after a moment. "But I was already upset from the things that I learned about your leg, and looking at the pictures; your grabbing me just completely caught me off guard." She stared down at her muffin, and slowly peeled the paper wrapper off to keep from looking at House.

"I was so blinded by anger that it wasn't until I sat down in the changing area and thought about the look in your eyes that I realized what you were thinking," House said closing his eyes. "Fraulein, you know I'd never hurt you." Lydia looked up at her boyfriend.

"Oh my God, Greg," she said leaving her stool and coming over to him. "Of course I know that. Despite the rough way you handle things and people sometimes…to me you've always been the most gentle man I've ever known." Lydia reached up and stroked his cheek, then moved forward to hug him.

"That's because the guy before me was a jackass who didn't appreciate what he had," House said returning Lydia's hug.

"And you don't deserve to be considered in the same thought as him," Lydia said grabbing a napkin from the counter and dabbing at her eyes. "Not for one second. I've seen you terribly angry before this when dealing with a case, but you've never directed it toward the kids or me. We've gotten upset or annoyed with each other, but we've always talked things out." She shook her head. "There's never been any anger between us."

"You make that easy," House said taking as sip of coffee as Lydia brought her stool around the end of the counter and closer to him. "You keep the tissue manufacturers of the world in business," he said indicating her napkin. "But you manage to keep a cool head and think things through logically and reasonably even while the water faucets are going. That takes a certain talent."

"It takes common sense," Lydia replied breaking off a piece of her muffin. "I don't see anything to be gained by foot stomping and screeching irrationally. The only thing I find hard is to hold back my tears sometimes…"

"Most of the time," House corrected. Lydia made a face as she leaned over to House with the piece of muffin in between her fingers.

"Open wide," she said holding the morsel up in front of him. He smiled as he parted his lips just enough for her to place the piece of muffin in his mouth; he quickly closed his lips on her fingers as she pulled them back.

"Why did you do that?" House asked as he chewed the treat.

"Because I know you think feeding food to each other is very sexy and it would make you smile." Lydia reached over for his hand. "And right now I think you need something to improve your mood." House nodded.

"That's for sure" he said dropping his head down; there was the slightest upturn of the corners of his mouth. "You always amaze me with how well you 'get' me. You knew I was going to snag a piece of muffin no matter what, but you also knew I'd like nibbling on your digits even more."

"I pay attention to the little stuff," said Lydia as she sipped her latte.

"The little stuff adds up to big stuff after a while," House said quietly looking over his shoulder out onto the deck. Lydia watched the deep furrows form in House's brow; it was the look he always took on when he was trying to figure out a puzzle. Since there was more than one issue for him to consider right now, she thought it best to find out which one had his attention at the moment.

"Maybe you'll feel better if you said what you're thinking out loud," his girlfriend offered.

"I'll never feel better about it," House said turning back to Lydia. "I'm not looking to forgive anything or anyone right now; I'm trying to understand it. I'm trying to get a handle on why Stacy didn't follow my instructions, disregarded my wishes. I want to say that it was…an act of desperation; like you've told me…it was done out of love." House shook his head and his voice became harsher. "I can't see it that way. If you had been my girlfriend, this," he said as he started to rub his leg. "Never would have happened." House looked over and saw Lydia struggling to say something. "You know I'm right."

"I don't think that I can sit here and tell you what I would or would not have done in the moment," Lydia said choosing her words carefully. "But I'd like to think that ultimately I would do as you asked. I want to believe that you wouldn't take the chance of doing anything to endanger our life together." House looked away and nodded.

"I wouldn't; and I wasn't trying to screw up the life I had with Stacy, although ultimately I did." House slammed his fist on the counter. "I can figure out Cuddy's motivation, but not Stacy's. It's going to keep bothering the hell out of me." Lydia was puzzled.

"Motivation to disregard your wishes?" she asked. "I don't…"

"When you first moved back here, and we were going over ancient history, I told you I never cheated on Stacy until things had gotten bad; that's true, but there was…an incident…that I was very uncomfortable about," House said as he looked at the floor. "I had worked late one night on a tough case, had a few drinks, and as screwed-up as it sounds, someone tried to take advantage of me."

"Cuddy," Lydia said in almost a whisper. House nodded. "Was this before or after the infarction?"

"Before. I had a patient, a kid…he was dying. Won't go into the details of the case; they're not important," House began. "He wasn't responding to any of the 'normal' treatments, so I wanted to try a more radical approach. As usual, Cuddy sprouted feathers and was too chicken to give it a try; too risky for the hospital. We had a battle outside the kid's room, from which I emerged victorious." House took a sip of his coffee. "Not that Cuddy gave in; I went behind her back, and did the treatment anyway. I sent the team home and I kept watch over things. Slowly, the kid started to respond. Cuddy hung around once she found out I bested her, and was about to try and sentence me to a thousand clinic hours when the parents came out of the kid's room gushing praise for me and thanking Cuddy for letting me take the action that ultimately saved their kid's life." House smirked. "The look on her face was priceless when I let her get away with accepting the credit for what I had done on my own." House rose from his stool and went over to the sliding door out to the deck. "At that point, I was exhausted; before he left, I had Wilson give me the keys to his office so I could catch some zzz's on his couch. I just sat down when my phone rang; it was Cuddy asking where I was. The next thing I know she's standing at Wilson's door, holding a bottle of Macallan's; she called it a peace offering. She's got two cups, not so subtly hinting that she wanted to share. I wasn't going to drink the whole thing myself, and I wasn't driving since I already had told Stacy I wasn't coming home that night." Letting out a sigh, House pinched the bridge of his nose. "One glass led to another…the next thing I know I'm flat on my back on Wilson's sofa with Cuddy on top of me," he said ruefully. "I kept my head about me enough to push her off and remind her I wasn't available."

"She knew you had a girlfriend," Lydia said. "And yet…"

"Yeah, she knew. Cuddy was always civil to Stacy, but not much more; on more than one occasion Stacy expressed the opinion that Cuddy didn't like her," House said. "That's why when she came back here with Mark the Magnificent in tow, Stacy was shocked that Cuddy asked her to do some work for the hospital. I told Cuddy I was OK with it, but looking back, I swear she did it to torture me."

"How…how did Stacy react when you told her what happened?" House looked down and away from his girlfriend.

"I never told her; I didn't know what to say," he said returning to his stool by the counter. "She wouldn't have been happy that I was drinking on the job, although technically it was after hours. I didn't want to deal with the aftermath if she decided to confront Cuddy; or take the chance that Cuddy would blow it up into something it wasn't." House stretched his legs out in front of him. "Judging by Cuddy's reaction when I talked to her the next day, told her it was a mistake and that I would appreciate her keeping quiet about it…I think she wanted a little more than swapping spit." House began to intensely rub his leg. "She accused me of using her again; first, the one night stand back in college when I never said goodbye, and then this thing. I had to remind her she was the aggressor both times, a fact she didn't take too kindly."

"Greg, to be honest, I wouldn't be too happy with you if you bedded me one night, then just disappeared," Lydia said.

"That's almost what happened with us," House said closing his eyes in pain as he grabbed his leg." Only with the roles reversed."

"Almost only counts in horse shoes, hand grenades, and nuclear weapons," Lydia countered. "Look, obviously you always had a thing for her," Lydia began. "Whether you were flattered by her attention or you were genuinely attracted to her because she was a smart and good doctor, I don't know. But she sat in on one of your classes just to be around you; that could be construed as stalking."

"Who said she was a good doctor?" House said with a smirk. "I said with the course load she had she was ambitious; ambition doesn't necessarily equal ability. She was adequate." House started to run his finger along the edge of his coffee cup. "I don't know what it was with the two of us; it's one of those things that I won't ever be able to label…and that will drive me crazy." Lydia and House were both silent for a moment; she chewing a bite of her muffin, he still obsessing over that which he couldn't know.

"Honestly, Hon…I don't understand it either," Lydia said after taking a sip of her drink. "Anytime you got hurt…whether you got shot, or you stupidly stuck a piece of metal into an electric socket or whatever crazy thing you did, she was there at your bedside seemingly concerned about you. Yet, she invites you for Thanksgiving dinner and when you get there, not only is she gone, she has the…maid or house sitter or whatever the hell the person was…offer you a turkey sandwich!" Lydia tossed her napkin down. "I'm sorry, but that is unbelievably cruel."

"I badgered her into inviting me," House said standing up. He started to pace back and forth through the kitchen. "That was her way of saying I shouldn't have done it."

"I don't care what you did," Lydia said turning to watch her boyfriend wander around. "What she did was wrong. You don't do that to someone you care about." Lydia's voice was becoming more intense as she tried to defend House against his own actions. He slowly walked over to the counter extension where his girlfriend sat. He placed his hands on the granite, leaned forward onto his arms, and stared straight ahead, averting Lydia's eyes.

"I heard it's been said that the line between love and hate is unperceptively thin," House said in a quiet, flat voice. He said nothing else; he simply continued to stare off into nothingness. Lydia watched him, waiting for him to say something else…when suddenly the point of his statement became painfully clear.

"Oh, God…Greg…no. No, you are not implying that Cuddy let those butchers get at you as revenge over a rejection? That's…"

"Cuddy had my report and Wilson's weeks before; she didn't suspend them, she never told the Medical Review Board or the Board of Directors about them. Their employment files are missing from the hospital's records," House said dropping his head down.

"Was she showing signs of being unstable, mentally or emotionally, that she'd be capable of such a thing?" Lydia was trying to process the implication of what House was telling her.

"I don't know," he said sounding frustrated. "It comes down to what Wilson was saying to me when I came home after the crane collapse; no one really knew Cuddy. I could never figure out how her mind worked. Wilson's supposition was that she was an enigma to me, a mystery I couldn't solve. That's why I was drawn to her, kept coming back no matter what happened." House straightened up, and slowly let his hands glide randomly over the counter; Lydia jumped when he slapped both hands. She saw that his expression became intensely dark. "I made a mistake…this shouldn't be the way I have to pay for it," he said as he reached down and rubbed his leg. Lydia realized she was going to have to direct the conversation; she had been rolling around several thoughts in her head and maybe some of them could soothe and calm House down.

"Greg, come back and sit down; I want to ask you a couple of things." Lydia saw that House wasn't moving, and his hands were curling up into fists. "Please, Hon?" He finally looked up at his girlfriend; seeing into Lydia's eyes always brought out good things in him, and right now they were easing the tension and anger he felt. Those feelings were one of the reasons he never wanted to discuss his leg and how it happened with anyone; but leave it to Fraulein to get through to him. He slowly pushed away from the counter and walked back around to his seat. He picked up his coffee and took a drink; Lydia took a deep breath before she began to speak. "The other night when you had been drinking, you said that Stacy and Cuddy worked together to hurt you. I'm going to take a guess…and say that you thought Cuddy told Stacy about your close encounter." House put his cup down.

"Yeah, I considered that for about two minutes. Then I realized if Cuddy told her, Stacy would have confronted me," he said shaking his head. "Plus…Stacy wouldn't do that; not to me, not to anyone. She wasn't that kind of person."

"I was going to say to you…I obviously don't know Stacy, but you certainly have told me enough about her," started Lydia. "I couldn't imagine you loving a woman who had that much cruelty in her. I think in your quest for answers that you let your imagination run wild; mainly in an effort to make sure you were covering all possibilities." Lydia gave House a sideways glance. "That having been said…I don't believe Cuddy knowingly harmed you either."

"She's the one who presented the option to Stacy," House shot back. "She also knew what my wishes were."

"And I think she panicked. After all, if something happened to you, who would be around to comment constantly on her boobs and ass?" House did a double take; it wasn't that Lydia never used those words, but it was unlike her to be as blunt as he could be.

"I'm sure I'm not the only one to pick up on her assets," House said after taking a bite if his bagel. "With the way she dressed, it was a little hard not to notice." Lydia smiled.

"I was being sarcastic," she said shaking her head. "Hon, what I'm trying to say is that while the line between love and hate can be incredibly thin, I believe that she was more frustrated than anything else. I think Cuddy was incapable of telling you how she felt; and you weren't exactly straightforward with her either, which certainly didn't help. You two beat around the bush in this…mating dance…but never connected on a deep level. She sends you on a wild goose chase for Thanksgiving dinner, you tell her she going to be a lousy mother…you were like two little kids with a crush on each other, but didn't want to come out and say it. So you dip her pigtails into the inkwell, and she lets the air out of your bicycle tires. I think you either knew she cared, or wanted to believe she did…and that's why when you were hallucinating after the crane collapse, the first thing you imagine her doing is kissing your scar; to you, she was saying she was sorry." Lydia cleared her throat and took a drink of her latte. "I believe that she was overwhelmed by you…this strong, athletic man she lusted after…lying in a hospital bed in such a fragile condition. I think she presented the alternative treatment to Stacy in an attempt to help you, and then those wretched, horrible doctors snuck in and hurt you. I don't know what Cuddy saw that made her think going back into the O.R. was a good idea for you; I certainly don't know how she could have misread the films of the scans."

"I don't think she did," House said. "When I gave Tom my medical chart, and he started digging into things, I finally decided to take a look at it myself; the correct films…the ones that Cuddy probably looked at and used to advise Stacy, were in there. So were a bunch of other reports; blood work, x-rays, CT scans, ultrasounds…and all of them weren't mine." House looked up at Lydia. "They were bundled all together and attached was a note; 'We didn't kill you, but you're going to wish we did.' Tom has a friend in the police department who tried to lift prints from it; but other than mine, which they already had on file," House said with a wry smile. "And Tom's, everything else was too smudged. They couldn't even get a partial." Lydia tried her best to hold back tears; but the viciousness of the note was more than she could handle. She quickly stood up and threw her arms around her boyfriend, crying as she did.

"I'm sorry; the last thing you need right now is a blubbering idiot," Lydia said as she pushed back away from House after a minute. He didn't seem to mind her outburst; he brought his arms up around her and appeared to be resisting letting her move away. Lydia grabbed a napkin and began wiping her eyes. "All you were trying to do is prevent a group of…incompetent, barbaric bastards…from hurting anyone else." She shook her head. "I know this is stupid for me to say, but it's not fair."

"Don't start me on the concept of life not being fair. I've solved medical cases that were impossible, saved the lives of people who should have died; yet I can't figure out for sure how the minds of a woman I've known for years and a woman I lived with for five years worked." House rested his elbow on the counter and brought his hand up to his forehead. "See why I think people and emotions suck?" Lydia took a deep breath; she was trying to steel herself up for what she wanted and needed to say to her boyfriend. It was time to call House's methods out.

"Greg, you are a man who holds logic and reason in the highest regard; so tell me…how can you be so illogical as to continue to obsess over a question that you can never have the answer to? And you know you'll never be able to answer it. Cuddy is in a vegetative state; she cannot ever communicate with you again. And I'm quite sure that if you knocked on Stacy's door, she wouldn't invite you in, put a pot of coffee on and say, 'Have a seat…let's talk.' You two had the chance to talk things out several years ago; if you got no answers then, you're not going to get any now." House was taken aback by the intensity with which Lydia spoke. It had exactly her desired effect; he was listening, not dismissing her words because he had already made up his mind. "It's not surprising that Tom's discovery of what went on years ago has stirred all these feeling up again. But they are haunting your waking and sleeping hours." House lifted his eyes to meet Lydia's.

"I wasn't aware of the fact that I made it a topic of conversation at the dinner table," he said sarcastically. Lydia closed her eyes.

"You don't realize the number of times I've walked over when you've been on your laptop, or on your computer at work and you're searching for ways to stimulate speech in a person with a brain injury." House looked away. "You've always tossed and turned in bed because your leg never lets you get comfortable…but Hon, you've been violently thrashing around. To the point you fell out of bed the other night!" Lydia's voice cracked with emotion, but she managed to hold it together.

"Sorry I'm ruining your sleep," House said, still not making eye contact with his girlfriend. Lydia stepped closer to House and placed her hands on his shoulders.

"Stop trying to deflect!" she said sternly. "You're also talking…crying out in your sleep, actually. You've been yelling out 'Why?' and 'I'm not going back on the table.'" Lydia put her head down. "And…'You promised me, damn it. You said you loved me.'" House raised his head and looked at Lydia, his mouth dropped open in disbelief.

"I had no idea I was doing that," he said quietly. "I…" He suddenly leaned forward and grabbed Lydia; he wasn't crying, but when he moved back after a moment, she could see moisture from tears pooling under his eyes.

"Greg, ever since Tom revealed the contents of the file, you've been obsessing over it. The only distractions you had, sadly, were the shooting and your mother's death. I'm surprised you were able to think about building a house or a trip for the two of us." House shook his head.

"I may have a lot of things crashing around in my brain, but you're always included in the mix." He looked at her and managed the barest of smiles. "So are the rug rats. I've been trying to work all the angles I could think of with this; it never occurred to me that I was going against all the principles of clear and rational thinking that I always adhere to and believe in. To keep going over and over things…it's a road to nowhere."

"You do know some things; you know who was involved, and you know what happened. The when and the where are also facts. I think you should take the knowledge you gained from the ultrasound today and figure out what your next move is. I'm assuming you're going to need to have an operation to get those swabs out, but…"

"If I want to do the whole nine yards, I'm going to need three operations," House said grimly. "Well, two and a half." Lydia's eyes opened wide in shock. "There's a lot to explain…but right now, I've got to put my leg up." He slowly rose from the stool and reached out for Lydia. He pulled her toward him in a tight embrace. "This isn't going to be easy…as a matter of fact, it's going to be the most hellacious thing I've ever gone through. Worse than rehab." House pulled back so he could look at his girlfriend. "If after you hear all the gory details, you decide you…"

"Excuse me, Dr. House…but are you trying to tell me how I'm going to think or feel about the subject in advance?" Lydia asked with a slight teasing tone in her voice. "You should know by now you have a strong-willed Fraulein for a girlfriend." Despite his mood, House actually managed a chuckle.

"Yeah, I've figure that out by now." He leaned forward and gave Lydia a kiss. "I'll meet you in the bedroom." House turned, made his way to the hall, and then headed down to the bedroom. It was only after she was sure that he was out of earshot, that Lydia allowed herself to cry. Three operations? And as with all procedures, there was always going to be a chance that it wouldn't work; that things could be worse in fact. Lydia was very quickly realizing why House resisted any attempts to get him back into the O.R., especially without the kind of support he was going to need. Wilson was wonderful, and she knew he loved House like a brother; but Lydia also knew House was going to be pushed to the limits by this, and in turn, so would those closest to him. Everyone has their breaking point…including me…Lydia thought. Brushing any negativity aside, she gathered up their drinks and the food and headed into the bedroom. As she turned the corner from the hallway, the sight before her made her stop; House was standing by his side of the bed, naked from the waist down. He glanced over his shoulder, and saw his girlfriend standing there.

"The jeans and even my boxers are irritating the scar at the moment," he said. "I'm going to go commando and throw a pair of sweats on."

"Take your time," Lydia said with a smile as she placed House's coffee on his night stand. He gave her a look as she lingered in front of him for a moment.

"You know if I was in a better mood…and feeling better physically, you wouldn't still be standing there," he said with a gleam in his eye. "Then again the Tater Tots won't be home until three…plenty of time for me to feel better."

"Take your bagel, please, before I drop it," Lydia said laughing. "And by the way, the kids won't be home until six; soccer practice."

"Oh, I'll be feeling better long before then," said House as he placed his bagel next to his coffee. He sat down and pulled his sweats on while Lydia went around to her side of the bed.

"I think I'll throw on sweats, too; they'll be more comfortable to nap in," she said setting her food down on her bedside table.

"Nap?" House asked.

"Let's face it, Hon; neither one if us slept well last night," said Lydia. "I was hoping after we talked, we could get a little rest," she said pulling off her jeans. "And re-charge out batteries for whatever we want to do later." Lydia went to the closet and took out two hangers; she grabbed House's jeans as well as hers and hung them up. She felt her boyfriend's eyes follow her as she moved around, and finally got her sweats on.

"If you want I'll give you a hand looking over those insurance rejects later; that way you can finish the graveyard cake while I do that and give us some extra alone time," House said as he sat down on the bed.

"Sounds good to me," Lydia said joining him. "I have notes on everything attached to the files; I know I just need to take things a few steps further. I'm just not sure in what direction."

"I can play compass, no problem," House said chewing on his bagel. There was an awkward quiet while the two of them ate some more of their food.

"I'm…ready to listen anytime you're ready to talk," Lydia finally said looking at House. He nodded, swallowed hard, and began.

"First things first; if I say anything that you don't understand, stop me right away. It's better to handle questions as they come up," Lydia nodded. "It's all going to start with the cleaning out of the wound." House frowned as he looked down. "Taub isn't just about bigger boobs and tighter tushes; he's one of the best reconstructive surgeons going. He'd still be doing it if he could've exhibited a little self-control and kept his fly zipped. There's ultimately going to be four surgeons involved; Taub, a vascular surgeon, Chase to assist, and Foreman to oversee nerve surgery issues." House looked over at Lydia; she had a mile-wide grin on her face. "What?"

"I so happy you're trusting them to do this for you," she said. "You know your team didn't walk into the ultrasound out of morbid curiosity this morning. They're concerned about you."

"I don't give a damn what their reasons were," House said tersely. "I just want them to help me fix my leg and have it done right." Lydia didn't want to press the issue, so she moved on.

"Who would you use for your vascular surgeon? Ratner?" she asked, referring to the surgeon who repaired Wilson's femoral artery.

"No. Too much tension with him. Chase introduced me to a new guy that's coming on staff in a few weeks. His name is Halpern, and we've managed to steal him away from NYU Medical Center. Ratner's talking about leaving to form his own practice in vascular and thoracic surgery, so rather than being caught short, the hospital's bringing in this guy as a preemptive strike. Chase seemed to think he's good and from what I've read about him, he's earned his reputation. Of course I'll want to sit down, have him look everything over and make sure we're on the same page with everything."

"He sounds like a promising candidate to do the work," Lydia said. House nodded as he reached over for his coffee.

"So, no repair work is done at first; everything is about making the area as clear of debris as possible. The swabs come out, any necrotic or damaged tissue is removed. Then a special adapted black sponge, which helps promote healing from within, is placed into the wound; a wound vac will be hooked up. Between the sponge and the vac, they'll continue to clear and stimulate the tissue that's left. The sponge will have to be changed out every two to three days in an O.R." House took a drink of his coffee, then replaced it on his night stand. "Even though the infection is low grade, it still has to be treated, plus I'll be a post-op patient. IV antibiotics will be given; when my WBC and RBC return to levels that Taub and I are OK with, we move on to stage two." House looked over at Lydia. "Sound like fun yet?" Lydia knew healing House's leg wasn't going to be an easy proposition. She reminded herself that if she went to medical school and became a doctor, she'd be dealing with this and worse. It's one thing if it's someone you just met; it quite another if it's the man you love, she thought.

"So will you have to stay in the hospital until your blood chemistries are normal? Or can you come home and have a visiting nurse?" House winced and looked away from Lydia.

"Fraulein, once they open up my leg…I can't come back here," he said quietly. "I won't be able to walk, never mind climb stairs. This…is not going to impact just you and me; it's going to effect the kids' lives, too." He reached over for her hand. "After the next two operations, I'd begin therapy. That's when Blood, Sweat and Tears is no longer just one of Songbird's favorite groups from the sixties. If the operations work, and I do intensive therapy with Tom…nine months to a year after I start things…" House paused for a minute to keep his composure. "I can run on the sidelines at the kids' soccer games without embarrassing them, and…carry you into the bedroom without being afraid of dropping you and ruining the mood." Lydia couldn't help the tears trickling down her cheeks any more than House could help his own.

"Greg, this isn't about me or the kids. You've suffered for years…"

"It has everything to do with you and the kids!" House said, his voice raising in volume. "Because of you three, I've seen and felt what it's like to actually be part of the living, not just sitting alone in an apartment drinking and drugging myself into a stupor." House shook his head. "You've removed me so far from that hell…shown me that I am capable of being loved. I'm a greedy son-of-a-bitch; I want more of it, and I'm willing to take whatever chances I have to so I can get it." He leaned back against his pillow and closed his eyes. Lydia looked at him; she was happy that she had something to do with his determination to deal head on with his leg, but still nervous about all the obstacles in the way.

"So, how long after you start on the antibiotic and wound vac will you be ready to move on to stage two?" House turned his head toward his girlfriend. He was surprised at how quickly she was willing to keep the discussion going.

"It can take anywhere from seven to ten days. Then the real fun begins." House readjusted his position more onto his left hip, and bent his right leg up. "Rather than two more operations, it's really number two, parts A and B, assuming I choose that path. Taub, Halpern, Chase and Foreman will all be in the O.R. with me; the wound vac will have been removed, the black sponge taken out. Now begins 'This Old House' for realz. I'd be opting to get a muscle/skin flap transplant. They'd take it from a donor site, and try to reattach it on my thigh, replacing some of the lost muscle and give me decent regular skin instead of scar tissue. They'll be trying to reconnect everything…nerves, veins, arteries…" House saw that Lydia looked like she wanted to ask a question. "Come on…tell Dr. Greg what's on your mind."

"Taub spoke of 'knots' on the nerve endings," she said slowly, still thinking things over. "Those knots form on their own after a nerve is just chopped rather than properly cut, correct?" House didn't respond right away.

"Keep going, I'll tell you if you're wrong," he said.

"Those are called neuroms; Taub's going to have to cut them off before he can begin to reconnect nerve endings. But, there's a chance that a match may not be found for each nerve."

"Which is why Foreman's going to oversee the reattachment of the nerves; he'll make sure the proper playmates are found. The loners, those without a buddy, are going to play ostrich." Lydia looked confused; House let her think it over. He knew she could work it out.

"They're going to have to bury the stray nerve endings into deep muscle tissue," she said, not looking at all pleased. "That means you'll lose feeling in the areas that those nerves are associated with."

"Yep. It'll probably be contained between the scar and my knee," he said pointing to his leg. "It's only on the surface; it won't affect my mobility. If we ever decide to move up to the frozen tundra of the north, therefore needing heavy duty electric blankets, I'll have to be careful because I'll have no decent sensation there. But I'll be very aware of keeping an eye on the skin. The last thing I'd need would be a burn." House looked at Lydia. "You get A+ on the quiz."

"Thanks," she said looking uncomfortable. "The idea of a transplant…is that the only option you have to able to keep walking?"

"It's what would make me even better than I am now, if it works out well. Without it…there might not be enough muscle left to get my leg back to working at the level I'm currently at…or even keeping me on both feet at all," House said sighing. Lydia did a double-take, not sure she heard him correctly. House said nothing, sat with his hands folded, and a blank expression on his face.

"So you're trying to tell me that this is a complete gamble, even under the best possible circumstances. Knowing you, that fits your usual approach to things." Lydia shook her head. "So which area were you considering to be a donor candidate?" Her boyfriend again sat by silently. "Greg…please…please don't make me guess," Lydia pleaded.

"You're not going to guess; the proper transplantee can be figured out quite logically. Plus, I like seeing you work it through, mostly because I know you can." Lydia rolled her eyes and began to look over House's form as he lay on the bed. "Say it out loud if it helps," House said trying to encourage his girlfriend.

"OK…obviously the other leg isn't an option," she began. "The gluteus maximus shouldn't be considered…"

"Knowing you, you'd never let them touch my butt," House said.

"I would if I had to," Lydia said continuing to scan House's body with her eyes. "But I wouldn't be happy about it. Lean forward, please." House did as she asked. Lydia started with the small of his back, and ran her hand slowly upward to his right shoulder; she stopped when she got near the area of the shoulder blade.

"Large latissimus dorsi!" she yelled out rolling onto her knees, and looking at House with a big smile. He was always amused at how proud she was of herself when she got it right; of course, that was most of the time.

"Left or right?" he asked keeping a straight face.

"Left; when you're rehabbing, you'll need the strength on the right side to lean on things until you build up the new muscle in your leg." Lydia looked at House anxiously. "Well…am I right?"

"With everything except 'until you build up the new muscle in your leg.'" House straightened out his leg and turned to his girlfriend. "It's like you said before, this whole thing is a crap shoot. The transplant could possibly not take, even though I'm self-donating. Usually, you don't do free transplants if you can help it; you keep the initial blood supply. That's not an option here; I'm not a contortionist. They may have to go back in and take the transplant out. Rehabbing my back where the donor tissue will come from may not go well…" House shook his head. "All sorts of things could go wrong."

"Hon, what would happened if you stopped short of the transplant?" Lydia asked settling back into a sitting position. "Let them clean it out and repair it, and leave it at that if there's enough muscle to provide support."

"The problem with that is we won't know just how much damage those damn swabs did to the remaining muscle left in there before we finish the first surgery. So we have to plan ahead; we need to gather a transplant team early enough to get the best shot at doing it right. Whatever happens, unless the damage is minor, I'm going for the transplant. I'll also want to oversee the first surgery so they don't chop off too much or too little."

"You'll be under anesthesia; it's a little hard to talk when you're out like a light," Lydia pointed out. House gazed up at the ceiling.

"You can still talk if you're using an epidural." Lydia almost choked on the drink she had taken of her latte.

"Greg, you're crazy! You're going to have to be on the table for hours. You won't be able to see anything."

"Oh, you mean just like I couldn't see anything of the ultrasound today? A Hi-Def camera and screen and I'll be all set," House said putting his arms behind his head.

"You are not usually a paranoid person," Lydia said. "But that's taking it to a new level. You're going to have three doctors in there that you've known and trusted for years. Why go to extreme measures?"

"I've trusted them with patients, not with me," replied House.

"They saved your life after the crane collapse," his girlfriend noted.

"Wilson had a hand in that, too." Reaching down to rub his leg, House's face clearly displayed his displeasure with the subject. "I've got a long time before I make a decision on how to handle the O.R. chess board; I'm not going to worry about it now."

"When were you thinking of having the operations?"

"May…after you graduate." House looked away from Lydia and braced himself for her reaction.

"May? Six months from now?" Lydia shot him a look and moved away slightly. "Sounds to me that after finding out all of this information, and taking the time to explain things to me, you're just deliberately delaying the operation!" She felt herself getting upset, and knew that wouldn't do the situation any good. "Greg…please try and make me understand why you want the delay." House turned back toward Lydia.

"Because there's a bunch of stuff happening in the next six months, and for some strange, insane reason…I actually want to be a part of it." Lydia knew not to let herself get too excited; House's idea of "stuff" he wanted to be a part of could be anything from a monster truck show to a frog jumping contest featuring side betting.

"What's going to be happening?" she hesitantly asked. House frowned, and looked very thoughtful for a minute.

"In a few weeks, my best friend is going to get married to your best friend; and despite the fact that Wilson has a collection of champagne glasses that say 'Bride' and 'Groom' because that's all he got to keep from his prior mistakes," House said with a smile. "I'm happy to say that I honestly believe that he's getting it right. And I intend on being there for it. Other than work-related subjects, it may be the last thing I see him do right."

"Why do you say that?" Lydia asked.

"Because in the next few months Wilson will enter the realm of Daddyhood, and for some reason I find that highly amusing." House was trying his hardest not to laugh, but it was no use. Lydia gave him a playful tap on the arm.

"You're mean; I think James and Annie are going to make excellent parents," she said, laughing a bit herself.

"Yeah, they will; and I'd like to stake my claim as Uncle House since everyone seems determined to force the role on me," said House. "Besides, the further along Songbird goes, the more problems that could come up, including with the delivery; I want to be there to help if needed."

"James is a doctor," Lydia said. "I'm sure he could handle anything that comes up."

"As you pointed out to me earlier, when you're emotionally involved with your patient, you lose a clear prospective on things," House said tilting his head toward his girlfriend. "In addition to the wedding and the bambino, there's our trip to Germany, and your graduation to consider." Lydia shook her head.

"Greg, I'll be finished my courses and my clinic hours by the end of December. I can ask to be part of the mid-year graduation in early January. And as far as our trip goes…we can postpone it. I'm sure someone from the federal government isn't going to come knocking on our door over it."

"You'd be surprised," House responded. "They'll probably want to know why I suddenly decided not to transport a hot property across international borders." He reached over and began to run his hand up and down Lydia's leg.

"Ha, ha…very funny," Lydia said as she leaned over and gave House a kiss.

"It's not, actually; there are no guarantees with this," he said taking a hold of his leg. "I will never be completely free of pain, but in the best case scenario, it will be incredibly better than it is right now. Will I be able to run at the kids' soccer games and…do a bunch of other things I used to do? Maybe. It depends on how much damage there actually is in there and whether the transplant will take." House looked at Lydia. "And how much pain I'm willing to go through with rehabbing. I knew Tom's reputation before I met him was outstanding, but I went into things with him cautiously." House shook his head. "He's proved to me his reputation was well earned, and if he tells me to jump…I'll clear the top of this house."

"I knew you and he would get on well," Lydia said smiling. "It's not just that he's very good at what he does; he reads people well and adjusts his methods depending on the personality of the patient. Plus his patients know he's speaking from experience, being a double amputee."

"Love to see the profile he developed for me," House said. "The worst case scenario in all this, would be there is only a minimal reduction in pain…and I'm in a wheelchair for the rest of my life because there isn't enough muscle left in there to support my body if the transplant doesn't take." House saw the stunned expression on Lydia's face. "You think you're ready to deal with that?"

"The real question is, are you?" she asked. House closed his eyes.

"You know how people always tell you what a miserable, self-centered bastard I can be? And you always say, you've never seen that side of me? Well, if I wind up playing 'Ironside'…you're going to have a front row seat." Lydia averted her eyes from her boyfriend's. She knew what he was saying was true; while never watching one of House's outbursts, or having it directed at her, she knew from what everyone told her he was capable of being extremely cruel. Would she be lying…or worse just kidding herself…if she said she could handle it? Maybe he wouldn't act that way toward her, maybe…oh hell; you're hardest on those closest to you. She knew that from taking care of her parents after they were disabled by their car accident; Michael and Marie Strohman said the most horrible things to their daughter. Accused her of stealing, said she was trying to kill them…told her she was a whore, when that was the furthest thing from the truth. It was gut wrenching for her to hear the cruel accusations from her parents.

And yet, she never let them break her.

Lydia found a way to fight back, to look at herself in the mirror each morning and night, and know that she did the best she possibly could for them. No daughter could be expected to do more than what she did, and put up with their verbal abuse besides.

If she could do that for people she was supposed to love…her parents…who's to say she couldn't do it for someone she chose to love…

"I'll handle it," Lydia said firmly. "We'll handle it together." House was surprised at the no-nonsense tone to his girlfriend's voice. He knew she had been through plenty of tough times in her life…her parent's car accident, Annie's attack and subsequent ten year catatonic state her best friend lingered in, her abusive marriage…and he admired her greatly for coming through it all with a good attitude still intact. But this was something different he heard in her voice and saw in her eyes; he knew that if anyone tried to mess with her on the subject of helping him with his leg, they would lose…badly.

"Thanks," House said quietly. Despite his best efforts, he was starting to feel emotional. "I wouldn't…I wouldn't have a snowball's chance in Antigua if you weren't on board with this."

"I know," Lydia said as she took House's hand in hers. "But let's get one thing straight right from the start; I am not doing this out of pity, or guilt or obligation. I am doing this for you because I love you…plain and simple. No fancy explanations of why other than I wouldn't let anyone else try to help you get through this; no one knows you the way I do…except James." House smirked.

"Yeah, you and Wilson would have a pretty good pissing contest over that wouldn't you? Although based purely on anatomy, I think he'd win." Lydia narrowed her eyes as she looked at House.

"Don't…ever…doubt…me!" Lydia reached over and poked House in his left side; when he didn't react, she knew she was in trouble.

"Not ticklish today; but I know someone who always is." House rolled to his left and managed to grab Lydia as she tried to squirm away.

"No! Greg! Ah…Greg!" He had her pinned and could have easily continued to make her squeal, but House quickly thought of a much better use for their situation; he leaned over and kissed Lydia repeatedly. He ran his hand down her body and her wriggling changed rapidly to squirming. He gathered her up in his arms and held her in a tight hug.

"I love you, Lydia." She smiled. Usually it was, "I love you, Fraulein," and even that was kept quiet, except from a chosen few. But when House was feeling very vulnerable and/or emotional, he called her by her given name. And when he did, she adored him for being brave enough to let her in just a little bit more.

"I love you, too, Greg." Lydia reached up and stroked the back of his neck. House laid her back down on the mattress, leaning over to give her a random kiss from time to time. "Hon, I understand why you want to wait until May to do the operation. Those are all very important things you spoke about, and I'm thrilled that you want to make sure that you're there for them. Are you sure the wait won't do any more damage to your leg?"

"Nothing can get much worse in the next six months than it already has over the years," House said.

"How long will you have to stay in the hospital?"

"From the first operation to clean it out, to the restoration and transplant? Three to five weeks. Maybe less, maybe more. Most patients head to a rehab facility afterward."

"James didn't," Lydia noted.

"Wilson had Tom," House said.

"And so will you." Nodding his concession to Lydia's point, House still had in the back of his mind the fact that stairs were going to be impossible for him for a long time to come. "Hon? What's wrong?" Lydia asked.

"Still thinking about living arrangements," he said as he scowled. House looked at Lydia; her eyes were wide open, she had a huge grin on her face and she was rapidly tapping on his shoulder.

"You're either having a seizure or you just came up with a brilliant idea; wanna fill me in?"

"Where did James go when he got out of the hospital?" Lydia was asking an unnecessary question, but House decided to play along.

"He came back here to Annie's apartment," he answered.

"Right! Wheelchair and all. Now, in a few weeks when she and James get married, where will she be living?"

"At Wilson's place," House said a smile starting to come over his face.

"Which leaves Annie's apartment…

"Empty!" they said together.

"Greg, it'll be perfect! We know a wheelchair can maneuver in there because of how things went when James moved in after his hospital stay. There's the bathroom, the kitchen…everything you'd need to be OK when I'm at work. And…it will help with the new house." The concept Lydia was going for wasn't fully clicking in, so House waited for his girlfriend to continue. "When we were talking about the new house the other day, we agreed that we're going to have to limit the stairs. You had the idea of a master bedroom suite for us on the main floor, and the kids' rooms and the guest room on the second floor. I love the idea, but I'm worried how the kids would handle it. This arrangement of you and I moving our bedroom to Annie's apartment would be the perfect test run!" If it weren't for the fact that House was still hovering over his girlfriend, he had the feeling Lydia would be jumping up and down on the bed.

"It'll work until Annie wants to move out on Wilson after he wakes the youngster up at seven in the morning with his blow dryer," House observed. He looked at Lydia; she had wrapped her arms around his shoulders and brought her face up near his.

"It will really work…right?" she asked. House put a stern expression on his face as he looked at his girlfriend.

"Leave it to you to find the sparkly bunnies and unicorns in the cesspool of life," he said. "Yeah, it'll work." The two began kissing, gently, tenderly, both of them so glad that they could move forward with plans to help House's leg. "I hate to be a killjoy, but I could use that nap you mentioned earlier," House said. He rolled off his hip and returned to a sitting position on his side of the bed.

"I think it's a good idea," Lydia said. She sat up and scooted over to her pillows.

"No, it's not. Thing One and Thing Two aren't going to be home for hours and we're wasting the opportunity to shatter the quiet with torrid screams of ecstasy." Lydia fiddled with her cell phone.

"I'm setting the alarm for two hours," she said. "Let's see what we feel like doing then."

"Deal," House said. "Doctor's orders on one thing." Lydia looked at him. "You have to fall asleep in my arms."

"Mmmm…and I always try to follow doctor's orders." She moved closer to her boyfriend and wriggled down until her head was even with his shoulder. House brought his arm up and around her, and kissed the top of her head.

"See you in a little while," Lydia said reaching over to give House a kiss.

"Yep," he replied. The two of them lay together for a while. House heard and felt Lydia's breathing change and knew she had fallen asleep. He had no such luck. While he had promised to stop obsessing over what had happened in the past, it was hard to fully block it from his mind.

He could have tried to have his leg fixed right after the incident happened…but instead of staying with him, Stacy left him to deal with it alone.

Cuddy was a doctor…his doctor. Even if she had nothing to do with his leg being butchered, she could have helped him, offered suggestions…instead there were trip wires, hidden canes…she left him to his own devices.

House closed his eyes. He needed something to get him to stop thinking about long ago and far away, and instead think about the here and now. He opened his eyes; he realized he had what he needed.

We'll handle it together…the words House had been waiting to hear for years.