A/N: I've been working on this idea for some time now, finally decided to split it into two and post the first part. Takes place just after Kutner's death.

XXXXXX

"For death begins with life's first breath and life begins at touch of death."

~John Oxenham

Thirteen sat in her car for nearly twenty minutes, before climbing out. It was raining, but she spent another ten minutes standing next to it. She'd taken a shower, but she could still feel the blood on her skin. Somehow, she hoped the rain would cleanse what soap and water hadn't. The rain soaked through her clothes, chilling her skin, but it went unnoticed. She didn't care about getting sick. The only thing she could focus on were the events of the past 48 hours.

Taking steps towards the unfamiliar house, Thirteen gave into her defeat. She had nowhere left to turn. Her own mind was over analyzing the events and repercussions. She didn't understand things and her reaction to that scared her. She was desperate for any type of solace or understanding. If anyone would be able to help, this was the place to come.

As she made it to the front stoop, her own tears began to fall. Knocking three times, she leaned against the wall next to the door. Trying to block out her own pain, she slid down the wall to the ground. Resting her head against her knees, she waited.

XXXXXX

Cuddy sat in her living room, trying to de-stress. The last few days had been a nightmare and it was the first time she had stopped. All week she had been taking care of everyone else and honestly hadn't personally digested any of it. She'd met with Kutner's parents. They had been so shocked and upset that they had actually asked her to arrange the funeral. It wasn't something she really wanted to do, but how could she tell them no. She had only lost an employee, they'd lost their son. He wasn't just an employee though, none of her staff was.

The hospital had been another nightmare. She'd hired grief counselors and tried to help those closest to her, but she knew it wasn't enough. Wilson had stopped by her home every night. He was worried about House and to be honest she was as well. No matter how much he protested, he was fond of Kutner. The shock of the young doctor's death had left them all shaken.

Now she sat alone in her house, desperate for something else to take care of. Part of the reason she was so efficient in times of crisis, was because she didn't deal. She pushed herself until she could go no further. Taking care of others had always been easier to handle than dealing with her own emotions. She laughed at the bitter irony.

House who was the king of denial, was now open, vulnerable, and confused. He was going through a chain of emotions that he never wished to experience. She on the other-hand had taken his general MO and was refusing to accept the reality. Sipping her tea, she realized that it had gone cold. She headed towards the kitchen to make some more, when she heard someone knocking.

Staring at her door curiously, she ran through the possibilities. It wasn't House's usual wood on wood. It wasn't Wilson's tentative nervous knocking, either. She cringed realizing those two were the only usual suspects. Setting her cup down on a nearby end table, she headed towards her front door.

She hesitated before opening the door, not sure if she was ready for what fate might have in store. Pulling the door back, she was surprised to see no one standing there. She almost completely overlooked the crumbled form of Thirteen sitting on the ground. She couldn't see her face, but could tell that she was soaked and most likely crying. "Dr. Hadley?" she asked, curiously.

Thirteen's head snapped up, as she heard Cuddy's voice. She hadn't noticed the front door open, and hastily rose to her feet. Planning to go there was one thing, but standing there in front of Cuddy was something totally different. Glancing at Cuddy nervously, she noticed the older doctor looked as cool and collected as ever. Realizing Cuddy was waiting for some sort of explanation, she managed to collect her thoughts. "I don't want to talk to a stranger," she blurted out.

It took Cuddy a moment to fill in the blanks and realize Thirteen was talking about the grief counselors she'd hired. Cuddy wanted to ask why she didn't go talk to Foreman or one of her own friends, surely Thirteen had someone closer than herself to talk to. Noticing her small frame trembling from the rain, she ushered Thirteen inside.

Stepping into Cuddy's home, Thirteen suddenly realized she was drenched. "Oh," she said, glancing down at her clothes. "I-," she started to say and looked to Cuddy for help.

Sighing, more at the situation than Thirteen, Cuddy said, "Just stay right there." Heading to her bathroom, she grabbed a towel and her robe. She knew from what Thirteen had said that this wasn't about a case. As far as she knew, they didn't have a new one yet. Cuddy hoped House would take some time off to deal with everything and let his team adjust, but she doubted that would happen.

Thirteen stood in the foyer nervously. She shifted her weight from her heals to her toes, as she waited. Now that she was here, she didn't know if she could actually talk to Cuddy. Glancing over her shoulder, at the front door, she debated on leaving.

"Don't," Cuddy's said, firmly. Her voice came across much more stern than she meant it to, but the girl seemed to respond. "You're already here and...I could use something to distract me." She handed Thirteen the towel and robe and picked up the cup sitting on the end table. "I'm gonna go make some tea," Cuddy said, pointing in the direction of the kitchen, "Just change in here and bring me your wet clothes when you're done."

Thirteen stood in the hallway for a moment, dripping. Watching Cuddy walk away and disappear into the kitchen, she tried to process the situation she'd created for herself. It was too late to back out now, even if she wanted to. Even if she turned around and left as quickly as possible, she would still have to face Cuddy eventually. Glancing around the room, she made sure that there was no way to see inside where she was standing. She changed quickly, pushing any thoughts of fleeing from her mind.