Chapter 2

"You know a key part of the two of us needing to talk is for you to open up your mouth and speak as well." House says to me as I continue to stare at him without uttering a word.

We are now seated across from each another, at a booth inside of the packed diner located next to the hotel, two stemming cups of coffee in front of each of us remaining untouched.

"You drove your car through my house." I say flatly while folding my arms across my chest.

"Come on Cuddy, that was like three years ago." House says back to me sarcastically.

My jaw nearly hits the floor. "I should have know better." I mumble with regret, getting up from my seat and cursing myself for being so stupid by agreeing to talk to House in the first place.

Before I can leave for good though, House stands up as well, reaching out and gently taking hold of my wrist to prevent me from going.

"Wait. Cuddy, I'm sorry…."

I look into his eyes and see he's struggling to find the right words to say.

"You've already said you're sorry, House. Now let go of me." I reply, tugging my wrist free from his grasp.

"Cuddy, please. I'm trying." He whispers down to me with his next breath.

I hate the way he's looking at me now. The way that promises so much more than he's ever really able to give me.

"Don't do this, House." I whisper in return as the air starts to feel thick and heavy around us.

"I need you." He tells me softly, his pride cast aside and replaced by the aching in his voice, that of course goes straight to my heart.

"That's not enough, House. It never was. We both know that." I remind him sadly, watching as his eyes continue to beg me for forgiveness.

"Excuse me!" A young waitress shouts from behind us both, her right arm held high above her as she balances the large serving tray, intent on getting the piping hot food to the customers three tables down from where we are standing.

My eyes stayed locked on House as I take a step closer to him so that the waitress can get by us, our bodies practically touching at this point. I cannot deny how healthy he looks up close like this, his eyes, clear and bright, with no fogged vicodin haze. His beard, trimmed neatly, with no whiskers poking out on his neck, his lips parting once more to say something to me.

I should leave now. I should turn around quickly and brush by him because being so close to him now is only serving to remind me how much I've missed him.

"Cuddy, aren't you the least bit curious about why I'm no longer using my cane?" He asks me, no doubt seeing the panic in my eyes and therefore throwing a bone out in front of me in the hopes it will make me stay.

"On some new kind of drug?" I question, trying my best to sound unimpressed, although in reality, I am extremely curious how's he's able to walk on his two legs without his cane and only the tiniest bit of limp, which would go unnoticed by most people who didn't know him.

I watch as he sits back down at the booth. "Only one way to find out." He tells me, nodding over to my empty side of the table.

I let out a sigh, I guess if I'm going to spend anymore time with House, I'd rather it consisted of the two of us talking about his leg instead of talking about what had happened in the past.

"Fine, tell me about your leg." I say to him, sitting down at the table once more.

He gives me a small smile, and I can't deny what a welcome sight it is. He's seems both happy and sober, and that's something I thought I would never see again, still I need to keep my guard up.

"Well, like always, without Wilson's incessant meddling I wouldn't be where I am today." House starts to say.

I notice the way his voice holds a bit of sadness to it when he mentions Wilson's name and the agony of House losing his best friend suddenly washes over me.

"I'm so sorry about Wilson." I tell him, meaning every word of it as I go against my instincts and reach out for his hand that is resting on the table in front of me.

He looks down at both of our hands like I've given him some sort of treasure, his thumb immediately brushing gently over top of my hand as he takes in a soft breath. I catch my breath as well when a spark of electricity runs up my spine. He's always had this type of effect on me, and that's what makes it so dangerous for me to love him.

"So tell me all about Wilson's meddling." I say, wanting him to focus on his story and not the feeling of my hand resting inside of his.

His eyes rise to meet mine, his long fingers curling around my smaller hand, holding it securely. I know he doesn't want to let go, and because of the subject we've landed upon, I grant his wish for now.

"When I revealed to Wilson that I was still alive, the two of us set off on a motorcycle trip for as Wilson's health could hold out." House begins to say.

"Wilson rode a motorcycle?" I asked him with a small smirk.

House chuckles and again there's a pull on my heart. "Believe it or not yes, even though there were times when I was sure he'd end up as road kill instead of succumbing to his cancer a few months later."

I can see the hurt reflected in his eyes once more, so a give his hand a small squeeze.

"Tell me more about this road trip the two of you took." I say, coaxing him forward.

He gives me a grateful smile, and once more I want to run because it's just too much for my heart to bare, but I continue to stay seated, knowing that I owe House this much, even though any other woman in my place would have called the cops the moment they had run into him again.

"Well, when we initially took off, I was hell-bent on riding to California, or as close as we could get to it, but then Wilson told me he wanted to ride up the eastern coastline instead."

"And you let Wilson have his way?" I ask, again with disbelief.

He holds our gaze for a moment and I feel my heart start to pound rapidly inside of my chest.

"Believe it or not Cuddy, I have changed." House says to me as he squeezes my hand gently.

I look away from him for a moment, and it's obvious he picks up on my unwillingness to talk about change at this moment as he clears his throat and starts speaking once more.

"Anyway,it really wasn't that big of deal that Wilson seemed to want to see Atlantic ocean instead of the Pacific. However, in true yenta fashion, Wilson had something else on his mind, and three days into our road trip... he finally told me what that was."

"Wilson wanted to help you with your leg before he died, didn't he?" I ask.

House nods. "Yep. You see about fifteen years ago, Wilson did something so risky, if anyone would have ever found out, he would have meant the end of his medical career."

I'm locked in his gaze, hanging on every word he's saying. "What did Wilson do?" I ask as I lean closer to him.

Again I see that look in his eyes, the one that tells me how much he's missed me as he to leans closer to me, his smile telling me it's been a long time since he's talked to someone the way we are talking to each other now.

"Apparently fifteen years ago, Wilson saved the life of a little girl by curing her with a new cancer drug that up until that point was too risky for FDA approval. But because Wilson believed so vehemently in the drug's abilities, he gave to the girl anyway, after hours in the infusion room without anyone else but him and the girl's parents knowing. What I didn't know, and what you wouldn't know either since Wilson wasn't working at Princeton Plainsboro at the time is that the girl who Wilson saved all those years ago was Emily Ward, the daughter of one Doctor Michael Ward."

It takes a moment for the name of the doctor to click inside of my head. "Doctor Ward is a specialist whose dedicated his life's work to finding a way to regenerate lost muscle tissue."

House nods again, remaining silent as I feel the weight of the moment closing in on me. "The missing muscle in your leg?" I asked him in a soft voice as I search his expression.

To my surprise House guides my hand underneath the table until it rests on his right thigh, he then moves my fingers over the area where his scar is.

I swallow hard, our eyes staying locked on one another, the fingers of my hand feeling the firmness of healthy muscle where only a hollow canyon of skin and bone once was.

"Excuse me!"

The voice of the gray-haired waitress, who has appeared out of nowhere in front of us leaves me jerking my hand away from House's leg in an instant as I stare up at her with my heart still pounding and my head now spinning over what I have just felt.

"I...umm what?" I ask in return, currently dumbfounded.

The waitress gives me a sour look. "I asked if you wanted to order anything besides your coffee, but apparently you were too busy feeling up your boyfriend to notice me."

"I wasn't...I mean he isn't..." I start to ramble on.

"We're fine thanks, but check back later and maybe you'll get to see the happy ending you blocked just now." House butts in sarcastically.

The waitress glares at him before scribbling something down on the small notepad in her left hand. She then rips the sheet free from the pad and slaps it down on the table in front of House. "Here's the bill for your coffee, and may I suggest you move your little groping session to the hotel next door instead of here, where there are children present." She tells House in no uncertain terms before spinning on her heels and walking away from us.

I can't help but laugh at the woman as she makes a beeline for the kitchen, no doubt running back there to tell the manager of the place about our supposed 'lewd' behavior.

"Speaking of hotels." House says to me in a low voice as I turn my head to face him once more.

"House..." I start to warn, shocked at his proposal.

"Relax, Cuddy...I'm not trying to get you into bed. At least not while you still have so little faith in the fact that I actually have changed. I just wanted to know if you wanted to move this conversation to the hotel bar next door, instead of staying in Our Lady of Perpetual Sorrow diner with our waitress Sister Mary Elephant."

"I...can't. I mean I still have to get to the local high school while there's still time left to get a bed." I rattle off as the re-emergence of his confidence gets my defenses scrambling in a heartbeat.

"Wait, you mean you don't have a room at the hotel?"

"No, they were all booked up." I tell him with a shrug.

"Oh." He says casually and I already know where this is heading.

"Well I guess it's a good thing for you that I do have a room. Which, I would be willing to share with you tonight. But only if you promise to give me a little more time to convince you that I have changed. Besides, you still haven't heard the entire story about my leg." He reminds me.

"House, I can't..." I start to say again.

"Yes, you can, Cuddy. I promise, no funny business. Just time for us to talk some more and a place to rest your head for the night that doesn't smell like sweaty high school wrestlers, unless of course you're into that kind of thing?"

I should say no, however looking into his eyes just now, I can see House is being honest with me. And even though I that ultimately his goal is to have me back in his life as his lover, however first he wants me to believe him again, so much so I can't help but notice the way his left leg is twitching nervously underneath the table as he waits for my response.

"Okay, I'll stay with you tonight." I agree, while feeling a flutter starting to rise inside of my stomach as I take my first step back into the place I swore I would never go near again.