I just broke 10k words on this story, so I thought I'd celebrate with an early update. Thanks so much to CdnGirl01 for the kind words. I'd love to hear what the rest of you are thinking, reviews really make my day. As always, enjoy.
*********************************************

After a few weeks Thirteen fell into a routine with Rachel. They would meet in the physiotherapy suite where Rachel would lead Thirteen through an array of exercises chosen for her needs. She would move through the workout under Rachel's watchful gaze before ending with a relaxing massage. That final component of therapy would inevitably lead House to make lewd comments about how much Thirteen seemed to enjoy her sessions.

Taking her chance to break away from the office, Thirteen changed and readied herself for another session.

When she had breezed through the series of stretches and warm-ups that began every session, Thirteen eagerly hopped onto the treadmill. While she ran, Rachel would take notes on her breathing, heart rate, and how easily she endured the exercise.

As her run began to wind down Thirteen started to feel immensely bored doing the same exercise every week. "Do I always have to do the treadmill? Can't we try any other cardio exercises?"

"Not until Cuddy approves a pool," Rachel replied.

"So swimming and running are the only things I can do?" Thirteen asked, breathing heavily.

"You can do whatever you want as long as get in two runs and one swim every week," Rachel smirked as she made a note of Thirteen's progress. "Looks like you've been keeping to that, too. You can start cooling down now."

Thirteen slowed the treadmill until she was at a brisk walk. "I ran three times this week. I'm starting to get into it. It's just better when I'm actually getting somewhere."

"I can't take you outside, it's against policy. But I'm glad you like running. It shows, you're gaining a lot of endurance."

"Does that mean we can start switching up the workouts? I feel like a greyhound on this thing."

"Nonsense. If you were a greyhound there would be a motorized rabbit to keep you motivated," Rachel laughed as Thirteen rolled her eyes. "Running and swimming are total body exercises. They work the core really well, increase balance, coordination, and lung function and capacity. All things you need to work on. Hit the ball."

Thirteen moved from the treadmill to a large, inflated stability ball. She got herself into position and began doing crunches. As Rachel held her legs still, she wore a curious look. "If you hate the treadmill so much, why were you so keen on using it today. Avoiding someone else?"

"I'm not avoiding anything," Thirteen said in between crunches. "There's just nothing to do right now. We're not even playing with a full team, Kutner's M.I.A."

"Is that like him?"

"No, he's almost never late," Thirteen said, finishing her exercise. "Massage time?"

"Massage time," Rachel nodded. "You're going to make me sorry I incorporated this into our sessions."

Thirteen gave a sly smile as she leaned against the massage table. "I did good work today, I've earned this. Besides, it's not my fault this is my favorite part of therapy. You have good hands."

"I'm glad I could spend a decade of my life studying and training to become your masseuse, Dr. Hadley."

"You can call me Remy," Thirteen started. "If you want."

"Lie down, please, Remy. And I suppose it wouldn't be too unprofessional for you to call me Rachel," she added as Thirteen situated herself.

Thirteen relaxed instantly as Rachel's hands moved over her shoulders and down her back. They were strong, sure, and warm. She began to feel a fluttering in her stomach as Rachel moved on to her legs. She gulped hard, trying to tuck the feeling safely away. Thirteen tried to stay calm, knowing any tension would only make the massage longer. When it was done, she tried her best to hide the blush rapidly spreading across her cheeks. Thankfully, Rachel was too preoccupied with paperwork to notice.

"I've got to get back. I'll see you later, Rachel," she mumbled, rushing out the door before Rachel could say anything.

Thirteen chided herself as she made her way back to the office. She could not afford to let things get too personal with Rachel, especially if there were even glimmers of anything more than friendship in her mind. Her relationship with Foreman was finally good. Things weren't perfect or ideal, but she felt stable with him around. Thirteen tried to calm herself down, reminding herself that there was nothing to get worked up over; Rachel was nothing more than her physiatrist.

Before she could reach the office, Foreman was coming down the hall, motioning for her to turn around.

"House wants to us to meet him in the clinic," he said.

"Is it the patient?"

Foreman shook his head, "Patient's fine, she's being discharged. House says he wants an update, but I have a feeling that's just a prelude to him making us track down Kutner."

"Lucky us," she mumbled as she boarded the elevator. "How's her husband?"

"He's circling the drain," Foreman looked Thirteen over appreciatively. "Therapy seems to be agreeing with you. You look great, relaxed. I wish I could get a massage every week."

Thirteen felt uneasy. She felt as though she needed to explain the rosy glow in her cheeks, the smile she always wore after therapy, or her eagerness to get sweaty in the middle of a workday. She felt a desperate urge to say something that justified what she was feeling. "Physio's good," she decided on. "Rachel's a great therapist, thanks for pushing me to go see her." Thirteen punctuated her comment with a brief kiss on Foreman's lips before the elevator doors opened. "Let's go. Maybe we'll catch a break and Kutner will finally be in."

Kutner never came in. After she and Foreman returned from his apartment, Thirteen sat despondently in the corner as House immediately set about trying to solve the puzzle of Kutner's death. While the others tried desperately not to think about it, Thirteen could do nothing else. She tried to convince herself that this wasn't her fault, that none of them had seen this coming. Still she couldn't get over it. Just a few days ago Kutner had been laughing and joking.

Thirteen could barely pay attention when Cuddy stopped by to offer the team her condolences. She made a point to let them know she would accommodate time off or counseling if they needed it, but Thirteen couldn't imagine being at home with nothing to do.

She forced herself to stay busy that day, going to visit Kutner's parents and throwing herself into work. When she finally got home and crawled into bed, she could only stare blankly at the ceiling as a dull numbness spread through her chest.

After little sleep, Thirteen pulled herself into work the next day, hoping that staying busy would keep her mind from wandering back to unpleasant thoughts. It wasn't often that she wanted to discuss how she was feeling with anyone, but today she truly needed to. As she sat in the office, Thirteen kept glancing between the door and her watch as she waited for Foreman.

"Did you page Foreman?" she asked House.

"He took up Cuddy's offer of time off," he replied, extinguishing any hope she had of talking to Foreman.

Thirteen absentmindedly rattled off a few more quips as she tried to convince House that Kutner hadn't been murdered. She would not indulge him in treating her friend and colleague like another puzzle to be cracked.

She quickly refused his order to track down and berate Kutner's friends and family, "We all want to know why Kutner did it, but we're not going to waste time chasing ghosts." She barely listened as House turned his attention to Taub before ordering them to run tests on the patient.

While Taub did as he was told, Thirteen stole away to the physiotherapy department. If Foreman couldn't even give her the courtesy of a phone call she certainly wasn't going to run to him begging to talk. When she reached the therapy suite she found only a nurse doing paperwork.

"Do you know where I could find Dr. Galvin?" Thirteen asked.

"She took the day off. If it's important I could give you her home number," the nurse replied.

"That's not necessary," Thirteen said as she watched the nurse scribble the phone number down and hand it to her.

"Just take it," the nurse said. "She won't mind."

Thirteen grabbed the paper and shoved it into her pocket as she left. She headed for the parking garage, dialing Rachel's number on her way. As she tucked herself into the privacy of her car the other line picked up. "Hello?" Rachel asked.

"Rachel, it's Remy," Thirteen started cautiously. "I hope this is okay. One of the nurses gave me your number."

"It's fine. Is everything okay?"

Thirteen hesitated; things were far from okay. She tried to keep an even keel to her voice as she spoke again, "Yeah, I'm fine. I was just wondering if I could come talk to you."

Hearing the trepidation in Thirteen's voice, Rachel agreed and quickly rattled off her address. As Thirteen began to drive, however, she found herself heading in the opposite direction. When she finally came to a stop she was parked outside of Foreman's building.

After spending a few minutes convincing herself, Thirteen made her way to Foreman's apartment. The second she knocked on the door she wanted to take it back. She felt as if she should run before it opened. When she was finally face to face with Foreman it was all she could do to stay put. "Remy Hadley," she said, mustering a quick witticism to cover her discomfort. "I also answer to Thirteen. I sometimes sleep with you."

"I know I should have called," Foreman started. "I just need some time."

"Alone?"

"I've worked through a lot of bad stuff in my life. Always done it solo."

Thirteen let her gaze wander from Foreman. That was what she had expected; what she had been afraid of. As she glanced around his apartment she wasn't sure why she had wanted to be there in the first place. She had never felt comfortable in Foreman's apartment. Despite the fact that she didn't want to be alone, there was definitely not where she wanted to be. She felt even worse knowing Foreman didn't want her there.

"So, I should go," she said softly.

"I'm sorry," Forman murmured as she left.

Hot tears streamed down Thirteen's face. When she reached her car she leaned against the steering wheel and tried to calm herself enough to drive. Clearing the tears from her eyes, she sped towards Rachel's.

As she got closer Thirteen started to think going to see Rachel was a bad idea. She tried to find any excuse to turn around. It shouldn't have been so difficult; there were plenty to choose from. Having only known Rachel a month, she was the last person Thirteen should be sharing problems with.

Still, Thirteen found herself in front of Rachel's building and more than compelled to head inside. When she was finally standing outside Rachel's door, Thirteen felt an anxiety similar to what she had felt at Foreman's. This time, though, her fears quickly dissipated when the door opened. Rachel greeted her with the same warm smile that always eased her mind in therapy.

"I was starting to think you'd changed your mind," Rachel said.

"I'm sorry to intrude, I know it's your day off."

"It's okay. I know you wouldn't have asked unless it was important," Rachel stepped away from the door. "Come on in, Remy. I was making tea, would you like some?"

Thirteen nodded and followed Rachel to the kitchen. As she settled at the table Rachel slid a warm mug between her hands. Thirteen sipped at it carefully; as the warm liquid eased down her throat, she realized how cold she was. She focused on her tea, draining the mug quietly as she played for time. Thirteen watched as Rachel waited patiently for her to speak her mind. She glanced around uneasily before finally deciding to say something. "Foreman and I went to look for Kutner yesterday," Thirteen started. "When we went to his apartment, he was on the floor with a gun. There was blood everywhere. All over my clothes and… We couldn't save him."

"I'm so sorry," Rachel told her. She reached across the table and wrapped her hand around Thirteen's.

"I had to get out of the office. Taub's acting like nothing happened, House is treating this like a case, and Foreman just left. I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop seeing it."

They sat in silence a while as Thirteen focused on the warmth of Rachel's hand until she was sure she wouldn't burst into tears. She quickly let her eyes wander around Rachel's apartment. It was not so unlike her own; there were books everywhere and art on the walls. It was as warm and inviting as Rachel herself. "I like your place," Thirteen said as she looked around.

"Thanks."

"You know I always feel weird at Foreman's apartment. His place feels so empty. It's like no one lives there. He barely has any furniture."

"Is that why you came here? Because his place isn't homey?"

Thirteen shook her head in her hand. "He doesn't want me there. I went to see him and he said he'd rather go through this alone."

"Maybe that's what he needs," Rachel said.

"It's not just that," Thirteen insisted. "It usually doesn't bother me that we don't talk, but today I needed someone and he couldn't be there. Now I keep wondering how I can be with him if he won't share anything with me. Our patient was talking about her husband, about how he didn't show affection or spend time with her. She said she stayed with him because she didn't need him to feel for her what she felt for him. I don't want to end up in a relationship like that."

"Today is not the day to question your relationship. Both of you are grieving. You should give it some time."

"I just don't want to be alone," Thirteen admitted.

"You could…" Rachel hesitated. She clenched her jaw tightly against the words forming in her throat. "You could stay here if you like. If you need to."

Rachel could see Thirteen was taken aback by her candor. She watched as a determined look settled on Thirteen's face and silently hoped it meant she would decline the offer.

"I can't," Thirteen replied as she glanced at her watch. "I have to get back to work. Thank you, though, for everything."

"You're welcome," Rachel nodded appreciatively. She took a moment to consider what was on her mind before deciding it was safe to say. "Listen, I won't be in for about a week, so one of the other therapists will take over your next session. If you need someone to talk to, though, you can stop by."

"That sounds… thank you," Thirteen murmured. She blushed as she realized Rachel's hand was still firmly seated over her own. She felt a twinge of regret when Rachel pulled it back and showed her to the door. As she started to leave the warmth of the apartment she tried to cling to the moment as best she could. "Do you want to have dinner? Thursday maybe?"

Rachel smiled, "Well, we are Thursday people. Come over after work, I'll cook."

After saying her goodbyes, Thirteen finally pulled herself away from the door and headed back to her car. Now that she didn't feel so lonesome, the prospect of going back to work suddenly seemed far more bearable.