House filled his glass with whiskey and took one more swig of it before lifting his fingers back up to the piano again. He felt the liquid burn as it made its way down his throat, a distraction from the pain he was already feeling. He moved his fingers over the keys, letting the music express the rage that he couldn't put into words. He was still playing his piano when he heard a knock on the door. He didn't want to see anyone though, so he continued to play on, pressing the keys down harder to block out the knocking.

"House, I know you're in there. I can hear the piano," Cuddy yelled through the door, wishing he would just let her in so she could explain. She looked around, searching for another way in and noticed a pair of running shoes around the corner. Well, I guess he's not as smart as I thought he was, Cuddy thought to herself as she reached in to them and pulled out his house key.

House was still playing the piano loudly when he noticed his front door creak open and Cuddy step into his house. A thousand emotions ran through his mind at that time. Anger, frustration, sadness, loss, and sorrow all whirled through his body like a hurricane. He didn't want to talk to her right now. Didn't want to talk to anyone right now, so he looked back down at the keys and continued to play.

Cuddy hated seeing him this way. She wanted so badly to simply comfort him, let him know it would be all right, but he would never let her. She slowly made her way over to the piano, noticing the half empty bottle of whiskey on top of it. Trying not to disturb him, she slid onto the bench next to him and watched as his fingers moved effortlessly over the keys. There was so much emotion in every single stroke of his fingers and it broke her heart to hear the melancholy in every note. After a while, he eventually stopped playing and he let his hands rest on the keys.

"I'm lifting your suspension, House," Cuddy started slowly, unsure of what to say to him. Finally, he looked up at her, urging her to explain. "I talked to Tritter after work today about everything. If I give up my position as Dean, you won't be suspended and we can both avoid jail time. So I told him I'd resign. There's no other option, House."

House listened intently to every word she spoke, his eyes searching hers for honesty. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He had done everything to hurt her and now she was going to give up her job for him. He didn't deserve this.

"Tell him I'll take the suspension," House said, looking back down at his hands.

"What? House, you're right. There is no reason for you to be suspended. It isn't fair."

"No. Cuddy, you love your job. I won't let you give it up," House said relentlessly.

Cuddy didn't want to fight him anymore. She did love her job and the suggestion of giving it up was one of the hardest things she'd ever said. "Thank you," she said and looked away from him before she got lost in those intense blue eyes. She hoped he had forgiven her, hoped that he would trust her again. Silence fell over them once again, but the rage from before had subsided and a feeling of melancholy replaced it. She slowly slid herself closer to him, letting him know she was there for him.

House didn't know why he told her to keep her position at the hospital, but he just couldn't bear to see her everyday, knowing it was his entire fault she was no longer the Dean. He sighed quietly and let his fingers graze the piano keys without making any noise. He didn't know what to say to her. She was always there for him, and he had caused her nothing but pain. He felt her body against his side and unable to put any words together, he simply put his head on her shoulder and let himself relax.

The gesture, little as it was, was enough to make the tears fill up in Cuddy's eyes. She could feel all of the sorrow he was carrying and wished she could take it all away from him. He began to play the piano again and she rested her head on top of his, closing her eyes and letting a tear fall down her cheek.

"Do you just make that music up," Cuddy asked and House replied with a nod, as he lifted his head up and stopped playing. "It's beautiful."

Cuddy lifted her hands and let her fingers graze the keys that he had been playing, a smile creeping over her lips.

"You play?" He asked curiously.

"A long time ago."

"Let's hear something," he said with a smirk and she began to play. The familiar tune of hot cross buns filled his ears and he couldn't help but laugh.

"When you said a long time ago, I didn't think you meant kindergarten," he said, back to his old sarcastic self.

"Hey, I didn't learn that until grade five," Cuddy replied with a laugh as she hit him on the shoulder, her eyes never leaving his.