The Storm Before the Calm

House searched the far too well appointed house, scoffing and snarling at the total lack of personality, even in the perfectly arranged family photos. If there were a Jewish version of the Stepford family, this would be it.

He opened an upstairs door with the words 'do not enter' printed in pretty girlish letters on a small plaque. He wondered how this had managed to slip past Lydia's Gestapo inspection.

Cuddy was sitting alone on a small, Hanna Montana covered bed.

"Get out!" She said, avoiding his stare.

"No." House had had it. He was not going to face her family on his own. He shut the door and walked over to the bed.

"House..." she really could care less at the moment what his issues were.

House looked at her. She looked so sad. All the life had gone out of her eyes. That sparkle she always seemed to have was missing. He wanted it back. "I'm sorry." It took all his strength to say those two little words, words most people wouldn't think twice about, but which he said so infrequently it was like speaking in a foreign language.

"What are you sorry about House?" Cuddy didn't want to believe him. She wanted to stay mad at him. She would forgive him when they got home, she knew that, but it was far easier to direct her anger at him than face the years of anger she'd built up towards her mother. She needed to stay angry at House, at least for now.

She couldn't look up at him. She knew she should, she knew he was doing something that was difficult for him, and that she should support him in that, show that it meant something to her, but she wanted to stay mad at him, and the sincerity in his face was making that very, very difficult.

"Forget it." She shook her head, secretly glad he didn't really mean it, and hating herself for that relief.

House felt himself growing stronger. She needed him now. This was his chance to make that grand gesture Wilson was prattling on about. He felt himself loosing her. He could see it in her eyes, and the prospect scared him shitless.

"NO! I won't forget it." He could feel something big swelling up inside him. "Your mother has made it very clear that she doesn't want me here. She hates me. And with good reason." She tried to speak but he motioned her to wait until he'd finished. "And you know very well I would rather be working in the clinic than spend an hour with your mother, and now that I've met your sister, I hope to never make that mistake again. So, if you expected this to be a nice, pleasant weekend, then I'm sorry but you're more naive than I thought."

"I..."

"Don't." He knew he was letting her down, but it was too late now. Everything, all the flowery words of remorse he had intended to say had been trampled down by his true feelings. "I know I've let you down again. I know that a good fiancé, a good human being, would make an effort to get along with your family. You're not asking for much, just a weekend, and I can't even give you that. But what did you expect? I am not a good person. I'm a selfish asshole and I can not...I will not compromise myself just to make that bitch more comfortable."

"I know." She spoke so fragily he thought he'd finally broken her. The thought tore him apart.

House turned and stormed out. He needed to find alcohol. He needed to drink himself out of existence before he destroyed them both.

Wilson felt him push past. His first instinct was to follow House, but he knew the man well enough to know when to back away. His next instinct was to check on Cuddy, so that's what he did. "Can I come in?" He pushed his way gently through the door without her acceptance.

"Go away." She didn't want to talk to House's emissary. She had gotten what she wanted, and she hated it.

"He is trying." Wilson sat beside her on the small bed. He never did know when to give up.

"He's not trying, Wilson. He never tries. That's the problem." House tried only hard enough to say he was trying, but if he ever did really make an effort, there was nothing he couldn't do. She knew that. Wilson knew that. Hell, House probably even knew that, but he was still too afraid to really try. It was the one thing she wished she could fix, but she knew she couldn't.

"He's House." Wilson shrugged. It was the only excuse he had left.

Cuddy turned and looked Wilson in the eye, trying to gage his true feelings. Did he really think it was okay for House to slide through lift just because he was House, whatever that meant? "Don't you get tired of saying that?"

Wilson sighed. He felt old and tired. "Yes."

"Just keep an eye on him." Cuddy tried to make her voice sound hard and unfeeling. She wanted Wilson to think House needed a probation officer to keep him in line, but what he really needed was a body guard. He had not yet seen what her mother was capable of, and when he did, all hell was going to break loose.