It had been a long week for everyone, stress beating down on even the most righteous of martyrs. Grasping at a chance for some alleviation, House, Wilson, and Cuddy sat in a corner booth of a slightly run-down club. It wasn't a total dive, but corroded enough that it was avoided by most.
The three doctors sat under the glow of warm lights and talked about anything they could think of, with the exclusion of work. They didn't get together often, but on evenings like these, when they all needed a little human contact, they found each other. It was these moments that reminded them that they weren't alone.
"Isn't that Thirteen?" Wilson asked, watching a familiar lean frame. The younger doctor was leaning against the less than crowded bar. It was the first mention any of them had made of work, but somehow it was bearable. House and Cuddy both followed his gaze. They easily pinpointed the girl Wilson was staring at and watched her curiously.
"You're still calling her that?" Cuddy asked, glaring at House with evident repulsion and little shock. Sipping her drink, she rested back against the seat. Cuddy studied Dr. Hadley, with a slight pout to her lips. It wasn't their business, but there was something about Thirteen's mannerisms that disturbed her.
"She doesn't mind. Why should anyone else?" He asked, irritably. His words implied both her name and her business, yet kept none of them from studying her. Even House had to admit to feelings of guilt, as she moved a little too closely to the woman next to her. He would be the last man on earth to pass over the opportunity to watch a woman as attractive as Thirteen seduce a member of her own sex, but the woman she was with was far from the ideal. It wasn't that she was hideous, but there was a manner about her that sent of warning signals from miles away.
Thirteen stood next to the woman, blatantly flirting. As she gestured with her hands, her drink sloshed over the rim of the tumbler and down the front of her shirt. The older woman didn't seem to mind, but something wasn't right. She watched Thirteen with a hunger that none of the older doctors liked. The youthful doctor slipped against the bar and let out a skittish shriek that broke the muted sounds of the bar. The out of character mannerisms left the other doctors with an uneasy feeling. As the woman slid off the barstool, she clasped Thirteen's slender hand and guided her to the dance floor.
"We should do something," Cuddy said, sadly. Her tone was quiet and filled with emotion. It was obvious that she was bothered by the situation. She was protective of everyone. Her friends, who were both sitting at the same booth, her employees, even her patients. She didn't like to witness people suffer and did her best to protect everyone she could.
"You're not her mother. Leave her be," House snarled. Even he slightly winced, at the mention of Thirteen's mother, a constant reminder of what the future held. It wasn't like him to feel guilty about what he said, but in a way, he admired her. She definitely had many of the same tendencies he did medically and like Wilson and Cuddy, was one of the few people who could throw logic back at him and make sense. From the moment he met her, he recognized her as a fighter, a survivor. Dropping his head in defeat, he realized she was self-destructing faster than the very body that was failing her.
"It's certainly a tragedy," Wilson sighed, pitying Thirteen and her freshly discovered death sentence. Despite working as an Oncologist, he had nothing but empathy for premature death. Quite possibly, it was in spite of his position.
"What is?" Cuddy asked, fearfully. Looking between her two associates, she demanded an explanation. Wilson's tone had contained nothing, but regret and now House was scowling at him, as though he had just unleashed a state secret.
"Fuck-" House hissed, under his breath. "It's nothing," he lied, smoothly to Cuddy. "Let it go," he pleaded with her, sternly. Yet, seeing her glare focused solely on him, he realized there was no chance that she would.
Wilson winced at the look Cuddy was giving House, but was more surprised by House's actions. Forgetting all about the tension, he blurted out, "You didn't tell her she was dying?!" Shaking his head in disbelief, he finished off his drink. Throughout his career, dealing first-hand with having to tell individuals that hope had left them had instilled in him the rare ability to detach from that sort of news.
Cuddy's hand instantly flew to her mouth, while the other shakily set her drink down. She knew Thirteen was at risk, of course, but she had no idea that anything had been confirmed. Tearing up slightly, she glanced at the younger doctor in sorrow. How could she not have realized? Everything in the girl's behavior recently had screamed trauma. However, she, the protector of all, hadn't seen.
House rubbed at his eyes tiredly. "No, I didn't tell her, yet," his tone held notes of irritation and accusation. Wilson knew Cuddy, as well as he did. Of course, she would take the news hard. Her appreciation for life was only overshadowed by her stubborn determination to try to make things right.
"We should do something," she said quietly, not wanting to witness what was left of Thirteen's life destroyed. It was obvious now, the pain and sorrow, being drowned away and shoved to the side. She was filling her senses with other things, currently, a drunken oblivion and lust filled haze.
Wilson murmured in agreement. "Although, who are we to judge. She just found out her life has been cut in half. I've seen patients handle that kind of realization a lot worse. What she is doing is perfectly normal. Most people seek companionship with news like that. The fear of dying alone is overwhelming."
"That," Cuddy hissed, motioning towards the woman who had her hand down Thirteen's pants, "Is not companionship. At least, not the kind she needs." She shook her head, irritated that no one was seeing things her way. What little time Thirteen might have left should be spent with people who cared about her, not someone out for a quick fix.
"She's not alone," Wilson pointed out, solemnly. Looking at his watch, he realized what time it was. "Alright guys, I've got that flight at nine tomorrow, I should get going." As House and Cuddy told him goodnight, Wilson dropped a few twenties onto the table and left.
House could see the worry and anxiety eating away at Cuddy. Her emotions had always been her downfall. "God, woman, can't we ever go out without your perverse sense of guilt ruining the mood?" Pulling out his own wallet, he left enough money to pay for his and Cuddy's drinks. It had always been that way; he never faltered to buy her drinks, while he sponged off everyone else.
"I-" she started, feebly searching for some sort of response. Lifting her head up, her eyes met his. Her grey blue orbs, were full of such sadness and grief. "Please?" she asked, helplessly. Watch continently, as his resolve faded.
"Come on," he said, sighing. He slid out of the booth and offered her his hand in aid. "I am only doing this, because I know you will punish me somehow if I don't." It was almost worth it to see the gratitude in Cuddy's eyes, when she looked at him with relief.
Making their way through the crowd, they separated as they reached Thirteen. House stood next to the unknown woman, glaring down at her with a coldness seldom seen. "Leave," he hissed, eyes ablaze with hatred and impatience.
The startled woman looked up and abruptly removed her hands from Thirteen's body. She took a moment to look at Thirteen, curious yet confused. She hadn't taken the girl for the relationship type. However, it wasn't the first time a jealous lover had come to collect his curious partner.
As she backed away, Thirteen attempted to stop her, "Just ignore him, he's not important." She easily recognized what the woman was thinking. Trying to rectify the situation to the woman, she was hastily cut off.
"Sorry honey," the woman scoffed, "You're just not worth that." Nodding her apologies to House, she backed away into the crowd. As she walked away, she was already searching the mob of people looking for someone new to toy with.
"What the hell House?" Thirteen snapped. She glared at him with all the intensity she could muster in her inebriated state. As she began to back away, two slender hands grasped her biceps.
"Don't run," Cuddy urged, "He was just doing what I asked." Speaking soft and calmly, she hoped to soothe Thirteen's anger. Upsetting her was the last thing Cuddy wanted, but there hadn't been an easier way to get her attention.
Unexpectedly, Thirteen jerked around to face her, "You?! What right do you have? All this time I've respected you, but you're no better than him, interfering with other people's lives, when you don't know a damn thing."
Witnessing the shock on Cuddy's face, House decided to step in. He hated emotional irrationality. He knew Cuddy was doing the right thing. He also knew that she would allow Thirteen's words to create doubt over her actions and motivations. "Stop," he commanded firmly to both. Seizing the younger doctor's wrist, much like an ill-tempered child, he led Thirteen and Cuddy towards the exit.
Outside, House hailed the nearest cab, letting Cuddy and Thirteen enter first. Cuddy gave the driver Thirteen's address without question. They were taking her home. The cab ride was silent. Thirteen was pouting. Cuddy was thinking. House was ready for something mundane.
Arriving at her address, Thirteen glared at Cuddy. She wasn't moving nearly fast enough in Thirteen's opinion. "Can I go now mom?" she said, sarcastically. She was so focused on Cuddy not moving, that she completely missed that House was already paying the cab driver. They didn't plan to go anywhere else.
"Don't," Cuddy said, brokenly. "Don't be like that. We just want to help." She reached for the younger doctor's hand, but it was quickly snatched away. "You shouldn't be alone, but that isn't what you need. You need people that actually give a damn about you," Cuddy said, her voice rising in emotion.
"No offense, but I've been taking care of myself for a long time. It's not as if I really expect any help now. You didn't bother when I was healthy; I don't need your pity just because I'm sick." She reached across Cuddy's lap and opened the door, fully prepared to push Cuddy out of her way if she needed to.
By this time, House had finished paying the driver and had walked around to their side of the cab. "You two coming?" he asked, sounding as if they were headed towards Disney rather than the grime situation they were undertaking. He helped Cuddy out of the cab, but Thirteen jerked away from him and glared.
"You guys aren't coming up there, so you might as well get back in before he drives off," she said, nodding in the direction of the cab. She didn't need their opinions or advice, and she certainly didn't need them to baby sit her. It wasn't that she resented them for it. She just resented that it was happening now. Her whole life she had been left on her own. Now as everything that was her slipped away, people were stepping up and wanting to be a part of that. She couldn't allow it. Steeling her reserve, she turned and headed inside towards the elevator.
Cuddy started to follow, but House grabbed her arm to stop her. "Wait," he mumbled against her hair. They both watched in silence, as Thirteen dug through her pockets, looking for her keys. Cuddy let out the breath she had been holding, when Thirteen completely stopped walking and slowly turned around, everything about the girl's body language screamed defeat.
"Fine, you win. You scared off my date. You ended my night out. You picked my pockets. Congratulations. Can we go and get this Walton moment over with?" she glared at House, finding it easier to turn her anger towards him. He understood. Cuddy seemed to, but being this angry at the big boss just didn't feel like a good idea.
"Sure, as soon as you apologize to Cuddy," House said, seriously. His tone was neutral, but it was obvious that none of them were moving from that spot until she conceded. He wasn't playing games, whatever this situation they were in together was, he was serious.
Thirteen looked at him in complete shock. "For what? Interfering?" She knew that she was pushing them away, but it wasn't any worse than the things he did. She just didn't want to hurt; surely, he of all people could understand that. It was then that she realized he did understand, that was why he was being so hard on her. He was determined to stop her from turning into him.
House dangled her keys in his hand playfully. "No for caring about you when you're too selfish to care about yourself. I get that you don't want to die, and it really really sucks, but being a jerk to the one person that's trying to take care of you is unacceptable. So what if she never seemed to care before. She cares now and that's more than you had a few hours ago."
Thirteen dropped her head in shame and even had the decency to blush. She looked up when Cuddy started to chastise House and cut her off, "No, he's right." She offered House a grateful smile and nodded her appreciation. "You were just trying to help, and I had no right to treat you that way." Running a hand through her hair, she sighed, "I may not always know what the best path to take is, and maybe I could use some real friends." She slipped both of her hands into her back pockets and rocked on her heals nervously.
Cuddy grinned up at House, in shock over how well things were turning out. She blushed when he rolled his eyes at her and pushed her in Thirteen's direction. Enveloping the younger woman in a hug, she could feel the tension the girl was carrying. "I just want to help," she promised, trying to make Thirteen believe.
House coughed loudly, until both female sets of eyes were on him. "Can we move this love fest upstairs? Preferably naked and in bed?" He wiggled his eyebrows at the girls and shooed them onto the elevator.
It was silent up to Thirteen's floor. Things had changed, but it seemed none of them were ready to test how far that change went. Thirteen convinced herself it would be safer testing those waters in her apartment. She would have control there or at least the illusion of it. She moved automatically off the silver box and towards her door, letting them inside her world.
"Your apartment's really nice," Cuddy said, appreciatively once the lights were on. She elbowed House when he rolled his eyes at her formality. She wasn't just being polite; it was a nice place, large and warm. The apartment was decorated in gold and red with dark brown accents. It was comfortable.
"Yeah it has four walls and everything. No bars either, how'd you manage that one?" He asked Thirteen and he moved past them both and plopped down on her couch turning the TV on. "I'm not gonna catch anything from one of your she-tramps from sitting on this am I? I hope you disinfect," he chided, playfully.
"Nothing you wouldn't catch from your own tramps House," Thirteen replied, grinning. This was nice, people who knew her, people she knew. She could banter with them and share with them, and they got her. Her string of one-night stands had been fun, but they lost the humanity when she didn't even exchange names. "Do you guys want something to drink or eat or anything?" Thirteen asked, suddenly self-conscious, of how she seemed to them. She knew House wouldn't care, but surely Cuddy did enough socializing to expect more from her as hostess.
"Wine and beer" House yelled, quoting the movie as he held up the cover of RENT for Cuddy to see. "She was a RENThead back in the day, don't get her started, or she'll be reciting it from start to finish," he warned Thirteen. When she laughed sharing a look with Cuddy, he added, "I was serious, wine and beer, although, whisky would be preferable to both."
Thirteen laughed to herself and moved to her fully stocked liquor cabinet. "Do you want anything?" she asked Cuddy, almost shyly.
"Maybe just a soda," she said, moving to help Remy with House's drink. The girl was still a bit drunk, mix that with the adrenaline coursing through her system and pouring would have probably been disastrous. Taking over Cuddy couldn't help showing off a little as she twirled the bottle in the air before pouring. "You're not the only one with secrets," she said, in response to Thirteen's surprised look. "Do you have chips or anything? Really any carbs will do for him," she said, nodding in House's direction. "Let's get him settled then we need to talk." Cuddy walked off with the glass and bottle and set them on the coffee table in front of House.
Thirteen quickly grabbed two sodas and an unopened bag of chips and followed. She dropped the bag of chips in House's lap and handed Cuddy one of the cold cans. She could feel the alcohol churning through her body and knew that she needed to get off her feet soon. She started to sit down in a chair near the couch, but was quickly stopped by Cuddy.
Grabbing her arm, Cuddy said, "No way. First, go get changed. Then, you and I are going to talk." Her voice was stern, but filled with concern and care. Cuddy wasn't mad at Thirteen, she was mad that the situation had turned out like this. She didn't want her youngest doctor to die alone, but more than that she didn't want to watch her live out the rest of her days alone either. She needed something tangible. She needed to just be loved. With Thirteen leaving the room, Cuddy sat down next to House and looked at him with a worried expression.
"Don't look at me like I have any answers. This was your great plan," House said, stiffly. Keeping his eyes locked on the TV, he tried to ignore her emotional gaze. Finally cracking, he turned to face her, "Just be with her. Let her know she's not alone. Let her know that she's worth more than a quick fuck to get affection." He stroked Cuddy's cheek gently, before looking away.
Filled once more with the confidence she had started with, Cuddy leaned closer and kissed his cheek. "Don't stay up to late," she murmured, rising and heading towards Thirteen's bedroom.
House nodded in her direction, and then grabbed a handful of chips. He turned back to the TV, and began to flip once more through the channels.
"Got anything I can wear?" Cuddy asked, as she stepped into Thirteen's bedroom. Thirteen was pulling a tank top over her head, already wearing a pair of black silk pants.
"Sure," Thirteen said, a bit surprised. "So you guys are going to stay?" Her voice sounded calm, but it was obvious that the idea made her nervous. She moved to her dresser and sifting through the clothes finally pulled out a pair of scrub pants and a plain white t-shirt. "They're probably going to be a bit big on you," Thirteen said, apologetically.
Cuddy took the offered clothes and thanked her. She stepped into the adjoining bathroom and changed clothes quickly. The pants were too long and she had to roll the waist several times, but other than that, the clothes fit well. Looking in the mirror at herself, she sighed. She wasn't sure what she was doing. She didn't have all the answers, but she hoped she would still be of some aid to Thirteen.
Thirteen slid between her mattress and the covers, nervously letting her eyes dart back to the bathroom door. She wasn't sure what to expect. Cuddy had said she wanted to talk, but there really wasn't anything to say. It was true she longed for affection, but she had never been one to reach out to those she knew. It was always much easier to drown her problem in the flesh of a stranger.
Cuddy silently came out of the bedroom and smiled at Thirteen. She climbed into the opposite side of the bed and rolled to her side to face the younger doctor. "Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, not pressuring her either way.
Thirteen shook her head no. Her stomach quivered as Cuddy moved closer. Things were so different outside of work. Cuddy was softer, gentler, and definitely more relaxed. Her comfortable mannerisms forced Thirteen to let her guard drop. Cuddy hinted at a source of comfort Thirteen desperately needed. Closing her eyes to battle the tears, Thirteen whispered, "I'm just afraid."
Cuddy cupped Thirteen's cheek softly and whispered, "I know. It must be terrifying to know how limited your options are, but I'll promise you this. If you want my help, you won't ever have to go through any of it alone." She dropped her forehead to Thirteen's, so that they lie there starting into each other's eyes.
Thirteen's felt the tears escaping, but for the first time since she had found out she was dying, she didn't try to stop them. Lying there with Cuddy gently stroking her hair, Thirteen let go of the fear and for the moment lived inside the comfort of their friendship.