Special thanks to Mystrygab for allowing me to bounce ideas off of her and to the many readers, followers and those who've offered comments as we continue this story together. Thank you!

Disclaimer: House, MD and its entities are the property of David Shore, FOX and Universal Media Corporation. This story is for sole entertainment purposes and no copyright infringement is intended.

CHAPTER TWO:

Cuddy slides off the window sill. If looks could kill, House would most certainly be a goner. With steely eyes she approaches him, a fire lit within her.

As she gets closer to him, House swallows hard and with a weakness in his voice says to her, "I'm so sorry, Cuddy."

Bringing her hand up in one swift move, she cracks him clean across the face. "Screw you!" She cries, as House begins to rub the sensation away of thousand rubber bands snapping across his face.

Cuddy continues her tirade, pointing at him. "You..you took away my home, my life, my daughter until there was nothing left but a shell of my existence!" As tears begin to form pools in her eyes, she shoves him, exclaiming, "I hate you! I hate everything about you! I wish you were never in my life!' With all the force building in her body, she shoves him even harder causing him to stumble and fall back onto the floor, while his cane goes sailing in the air finally finding its way to the ground with a loud crack. Cuddy swiftly picks up the cane, soaring it above her head like a knight ready to issue a final blow to his opponent.

"Do it!" House yells. "Do it!" He pleads. In his heart and mind House felt he deserved every bit of her uncontrollable rage. After all, he did alter her life in the most unsatisfying way.

Hearing the commotion, the orderlies rush into the therapy area. Cuddy drops the cane and sobs, as the orderlies grab her by the arms and usher her out of the room. House lay there on the ground breathless, tears forming in his eyes but never falling.

The tension is broken for a moment when Beatrice states, "And they say I'm a histrionic personality."

Two other orderlies surround House and assist him to his feet, handing him his cane. "Are you all right?" One of the orderlies asks.

"Yeah." House softly answers.

Just then, Nolan comes darting into the room, "What's going on here?"

Looking at Nolan House queries, "Why didn't you tell me she was here?"

"I was hoping we could keep you two apart for as long as we could."

"Great job." House sarcastically answers.

"I'll move you to another ward tomorrow." Nolan concedes.

"No, don't do that. Sooner or later we'd have to cross paths again. Guess there's no place better than a controlled environment with plenty of people to keep us from killing each other." House pauses for a minute then questions Nolan.

"How long has she been here?"

" Over a year." Nolan replies.

With a sense of sadness and remorse in his voice, House questions, "Did I do this to her? Did I put her here?"

"I can't answer that."

"Based on that reply, I'm guessing yes." House deduces.

"You're not the only reason, House. It's more complicated than you think."

"Then what else is it?" House wonders.

"That's an answer you'd have to get from her. Now, I think it's time for your group therapy."

House gives Nolan a small nod of agreement and goes to take a seat.

Nolan sits on an armchair with pad and pen in hand, while Cuddy sits across from him in another armchair which seems to somewhat consume her small frame. She's looking out the far window into the distance somewhat lost in thought. The silence is deafening until Dr. Nolan breaks it.

"Do you want to tell me about what happened yesterday?"

"No." She says flatly.

"Want to talk about Rachel?"

"No." She says again, while digging her nails into the fabric of the armchair.

"Okay." He answers.

Cuddy mutters, "Why does he have to be here? I feel like I'm being haunted all over again. Everything just keeps replaying in my mind over and over."

"Your nightmares started again last night, didn't they?"

Looking at him solemnly, Cuddy gives him a small nod.

"Are you afraid of him?"

Touching her finger to her lips in thought, she shakes her head and softly whispers, "No."

Nolan forms a curious look on his face and is suddenly intrigued by her answer. "No? Why? He crashed his car into your house. You don't think there's reason to fear someone like that?"

"Do you? You took him under your wing. Means you know something's not right with him. Rather than let him rot some more in a jail cell, you brought him here which indicates to me that you think there's something still salvageable in him."

Nolan offers her a wry smile and notes, "I can see why he loved you, because I feel like I'm talking to him right now. Let's not talk about what I think. Let's talk about what you think. Do you think that in spite of his actions, there's something salvageable in him? Do you think he deserves absolution for what he did to you?"

"It isn't about absolution. It's about answers. Why did he do it? I mean...I know he was pissed at me and jealous and I'm sure the Vicodin didn't help matters but...he was always self-destructive. Never vindictive. I keep wondering if I deluded myself into thinking that he was incapable of doing such an act. That I was so blinded by love, I hadn't noticed this dark side he hid, waiting to be unleashed at the right time."

"Is that what you really believe?" Nolan wonders. "That House is a true sociopath?"

"As crazy as it sounds...no. Yes, he tended to be anti-social, but I think that was out of fear. He always felt that he'd hurt people who got too close to him. He was reckless when it came to patients, but it was never for his own personal gratification. It was to save a life. And when he pissed off the people close to him, he did feel guilty."

"Do you think he felt guilty about what he'd done to you?"

She pauses for a moment in thought, wiping a tear from her eye. Finally, she answers, "Yes. He could've easily hid for a long time overseas, but he came back and did more time than he should have. He wanted to punish himself. Why else wouldn't he hire a lawyer? Why else would he allow himself to get beat up in jail? Self-destructive."

"How do you feel?"

"Confused. Frustrated. Angry."

"Do you feel you can ever forgive him?"

She ponders for a minute and with a gentleness in her voice answers, "I don't know...because I'm just as screwed up as he is."

Nolan furrows his brow a bit, processing her last few words.

Rubbing her head she conveys to him, "I'm tired. Can we stop now?"

Nolan softly replies, "Okay. It's that time anyway."

They both stand and head to the door.

Nolan pulls it open for her, then puts a hand on her shoulder and offers words of comfort, "You did good today. We're going to get you through all this. In the meantime, I'll have the orderlies give you a sedative to help you sleep."

"Thank you." She says. Then suddenly stops for a minute and grabs her hip and winces.

"You okay?"

Cuddy takes a breath and nods. Then looks outside and points out, "It's raining."

Nolan nods sympathetically and Cuddy leaves.