Okay, here's chapter 3. Thank you all so much for great reviews. Fanfiction has become my addiction!

Chapter 3

There would be nothing to say to her House thought as he drove himself to work. He was just going to go about his day. Avoid her if at all possible. Avoid the situation, and the past. I mean, Kutner was dead. He took a gun and blew his own fucking brains out on his bedroom floor. Was there anything else to say? Would something change that? He felt like he did, and no kind words or small kiss from Cuddy would change that. And no talking or crying, or feeling was going to change what Kutner had done either. In fact, he thought pulling into the hospital parking lot; this shouldn't be about any of them grieving it should be about him. Period. The end. He thought to himself as he parked and headed towards the door.

He walked through the doors and into the elevator without seeing anyone, and had almost made it to his office door when he heard Wilson's voice "House! Where the hell have you been?" he called picking up his pace to catch up. "I've been calling you nonstop!"

"I shut my phone off." He answered, his hand on the door handle leading into the conference room. So it starts, he thought. As he opened the door and walked in.

Wilson caught up. "Hey!" he said catching the door with his hand. "I was worried. You know, that's how friends feel when someone disappears after the death of….are you wearing the same clothes?"

House walked across the room to the coffee machine, he picked up the empty carafe and then turned around slowly eyeing the room skeptically. "Where the hell is everyone?"

"House," answered Wilson "Foreman took time, and Thirteen joined him. And Taub….well I don't know about him. But…it's the day after the service, and I think …."

"What?" He said meeting Wilson with an icy stare "you think if we stop coming to work Kutner will be less dead ? "

"House…"

"Ohhhh, we'll feel better about him dying."

"House, the time off is not to feel better, it's so that you…we…have a chance to come to terms with…"

"Cut the crap Wilson," House turned his back to him and started messing around with the coffee machine. "I'm not one of your patients. And you're not a grief counselor. I'm here, because I want to be here, or as you would say I'm ready to be here. The only thing I'm not ready for "he said putting the carafe down and heading back towards the door, "is starting this day without coffee. Or my team."

He opened the door and started towards the e elevator. This was absurd, he thought. His whole team was gone. Not that he needed them. For years he had been without a team, and actually, he didn't even have a case. He pushed the elevator button with his cane, and tilting his head back shut his eyes. He could hear Wilson approaching.

"House, you're wearing the same clothes. Did you get any sleep last night?"

"Yes mom, just because I'm wearing the same clothes, which I'm not quite sure why you noticed, doesn't mean I didn't get any sleep." He waggled his eyebrows and stepped into the empty elevator. "Know what I mean Jimmy?" He continued pushing the button and hoping this would put him off.

Unfortunately Wilson's hand stopped the door and he stepped inside. "You did not get laid last night. Please tell me you were not off with some hooker instead of going to Kutner's service."

The door opened on the ground floor and House stepped out of the elevator ignoring Wilson's question. How could he have even thought for a minute that his friend wouldn't pry?

"I only commented on the lack of correlation between one not changing one's clothes….and lack of sleep." He limped towards the line at the lobby coffee shop and ordered himself a bagel and coffee. "It's on him." He motioned towards Wilson who was still behind him as he limped towards the door.

Wilson quickly took some bills out of his pocket and tossed them onto the counter before turning to follow his friend, who was now heading towards the lobby elevator.

"So," he asked, as he approached House, leaning forward and pushing the call button. "You didn't want to go to the service?"

House turned facing him, and in a sarcastic voice replied "apparently not."

The ride up to their offices was silent. House was annoyed, and Wilson knew that if he wanted to eventually get anything out of him, he should let up. I guess he hadn't really been too surprised when his friend didn't show up for the service. But seeing him show up this morning, in his same rumpled clothes from the day before?

If you want to talk…" Wilson stated simply as the doors opened.

"You'll be the first to know." Responded House sarcastically as he exited the elevator and limped quickly towards his office.

He hadn't so much as taken the lid off his coffee and taken a bite out of his bagel, when the door to the conference room opened and Lisa Cuddy walked in.

"Shit" he mumbled as she approached his office door, and though it was not shut rapped twice quietly before opening it further and peering inside "Can I come in ?" she asked.

"If you have to." He answered shutting his eyes and savoring a sip of the hot black coffee.

She came in and shut the door behind her.

Bad sign, he thought, opening his eyes and looking straight ahead.

"Greg," she said approaching his desk "House, I just wanted to come by and tell you that, there are no new cases, and…the rest of your team took some time, so if you wanted to…"

"If I wanted to stay home Dr Cuddy." He answered fixing his gaze on hers "I would have."

"Well," she answered tapping her fingers on his desk lightly, feeling uncomfortable as hell as he glared across at her, his eyes steady and solid. "I just wanted to let you know, so…" she turned heading towards the door.

"You could have called." He stated loudly looking down. "Didn't need to come here."

She turned around and sighed, her large grey eyes filled with emotion. "I wanted to see you. To see how you were doing. Is that so bad?"

"Jesus, Cuddy" he snarked, "what did you expect to find? Me curled up on the floor blubbering like a fool?"

"No," she answered taking a step towards his desk. "Of course not, I just wanted to…"

"Oh, that's right," he cut her off, his eyes narrowing and fixing once again on hers. "You got that show last night."

"Greg…House, that wasn't a show last night, and I just," Screw it, she thought suddenly, she had no reason to grovel in his office. She was his boss. She had just come in to relay a message and check on his status. "I wanted to see how you were doing. That's all." She replied again in a firm voice. "And I am sorry if you feel ashamed about what happened last night. There is nothing wrong with showing some emotion and…"

"And what?" he cut her off angrily and pushed himself away from his desk. "I should have never come to your house Cuddy." He continued, standing up and walking around the desk to face her. "I should have known it would just amount to a pile of shit."

"It's too bad, that you feel that way," she answered trying to remain cool, while inside her, rage and sadness fought over the space in her heart. "Last night was the first time; in a long time that I actually thought you were human."

"Oh please, "he rebutted, taking one more step towards her and lowering his voice "Don't use last night to make me something I'm not."

"What a human being?" She answered, pleading. "Someone who cares?" Her eyes, found his, and she searched deep down inside those icy blue orbs to find any remnant of the House, she had met the previous night.

He took the last step towards her. "But, I don't care. I won't ever care." He said looking down into her eyes.

She shook her head slowly, "don't care about what? About who?" she asked.

He looked down at her. Looked into her beautiful blue-grey eyes brimming with tears, brimming with emotion. He remembered how she had cared for him last night and this morning, never pushing never prying. He remembered lying in her arms. The warmth, the comfort. Her skin, her smell. He thought about all those things, then looked into her eyes and delivered the one word he knew would crush her.

"You." He whispered.

She had fought to hold back tears. Turned and stalked out of his office. He had remained standing for a long, long while. Long enough to make his leg go numb. Then he had headed towards his desk and sat again rubbing his temples and shutting his eyes, wondering why the hell he had just been so nasty to the one person who had cared about him consistently over the years. The one person he knew still had some vestige of love left for him in her heart.

"Fuck it." He said, and knowing the day would end up going from bad to worse grabbed his stuff and headed out the door.

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