Hi guys. Thanks for all of the reviews. I'm going through what you can call a 'depressive bout' at the moment, and your reviews are really helping me cheer up a bit. So here a present for Valentine's Day. Don't forget to leave a review.

It was late November when she found out. She was ecstatic. She was finally getting the one thing she had thought she would never have, but she was also terrified. Terrified about what the next few months could bring, terrified of how she would react to the changes she would have to endure, but most of all terrified of how House would react.

She had planned to wait a few days to tell him, but inevitably he had heard her every morning she had spent in the bathroom emptying the contents of her stomach. She could feel her heart pouding against her rib cage as he entered her office, a grim expression on his face as he locked the door behind him.

"Is there something you're not telling me?" He asked in a harsh tone as he limped towards her desk.

She took a deep breath, feeling as though she would be sick. She swallowed hard, opening her mouth to speak, only to have her voice catch in her throat.

"How long have you known?"

"A week."

"How long were you planning on hiding it from me?"

"I was scared. I wanted to wait a week or two..."

"Why would you hide this from me?"

"I wanted to be ready when I told you. I didn't know how you would react. I still don't know how you're reacting. I should have told you sooner, but I needed the time to accept it myself."

"Are you keeping it?"

She froze at his question, rage building within her. How dare he ask her such a ludicrous question? How dare he even think that she would do otherwise than to keep it? He more than anyone knew how badly she had wanted a child and there was no way in hell she would terminate.

"Am I keeping it? Am. I. Keeping it?" Her voice rose with anger as she repeated herself. She took a deep breath to calm herself, in her current state she did not want to risk anything. She was only five weeks along, anger would cause stress, stress could cause a miscarriage and that was the last thing she wanted.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Of course I'm keeping it. There's no way in hell that I would terminate this pregnancy. You know how badly I've wanted this. You know the struggles I went through and now that it's happened without it being planned you question me on what I intend to do? Why would you do that? Because it's yours?"

She was standing now, her arms crossed against her chest as she stood just inches away from him. His expression was impassive; his eyes blank, making him impossible to read. She wanted to know what he was thinking; she wanted to know that he was okay with her decision. She needed to know that they would be okay. She stood looking up at him as each passing second seemed more like an eternity.

"I never said I wanted kids."

She felt her heart break and she dropped into one of the chairs in front of her desk as her eyes welled with tears. The feeling of nausea in the pit of her stomach rose and she had to swallow in order to force herself to keep from vomiting.

"Get out." Her voice cracked as she brought her hands up to her temples, her vision blurred with the tears that were threatening to spill over her lashes. She heard the rubber of his cane hit the carpet with each step he took away from her. She wanted to him to stop, she wanted him to pull her into his arms and tell her they would make it through this, that they would find some way to make it work.

The sound of his cane came to a sudden stop, and she waited for the sound of the door opening, the sound that would mean the end of their short lived relationship.

"I'm sorry." He said before she heard the door close behind him. She buried her head into her hands as she let out a mournful sob. Her elbow rested against her legs as the tears slid down her face and into her hands.

They had spent the last month and a half living in peaceful bliss, caring about no one but each other, loving nothing but one another. Nothing could have prepared her for this. She had told him she loved him, and he had told her the same. The amount of time they spent together only made things worse. They had had so little time together, and it had only taken one obstacle to pull them apart. One small bump in the never ending road that was their history to cause everything to come crashing down around them.

She didn't keep track of how long she had cried for. Her eyes burned from the amount of tears she had shed. She had been so happy to find out that their love had produced a miracle within her womb, now she was left heartbroken because this miracle had meant the end of their relationship. When the tears would no longer come, she stood, her knees weak and shaky. She walked over to the side of her desk and packed up her things before heading home for the weekend.

The emptiness of her home made her feel even worse. She slipped into bed at half past seven, not even bothering to shower. She was drained both physically and emotionally. The sheets still smelled of him. She would have to change them in the morning. She could feel the tears starting to form again and she didn't bother to stop them. She let them fall.

He felt like shit. He knew things were going too good to be true. He had finally let a part of himself accept that after a month and a half, he was as happy as he had been in years and it had all gone down the drain. He wanted to be able to support her decision but the truth was that he was too selfish. A child was a life time commitment. He loved her, he couldn't deny that. He was willing to spend the rest of his life with her, but with a child? That was another question.

He had seen on numerous occasions how easily parents became worried and irrationally paranoid over their child's health even if it was simply a cold. He had seen and heard of the stress that having to provide for another life could cause. One too many depressed parents trying to end their lives by overdosing because they could no longer stand the constant pressure of having another human life depending on them. His life was miserable enough; he didn't need a screaming brat to make it even more so.

He sat alone at the piano in his living room, a glass of scotch and the orange bottle of pills set to the right of him. He urgently rubbed at his leg, the pain having increased within the last few hours after his confrontation with Cuddy. He popped the cap off of the bottle and dry swallowed the two pills he had poured into his hand. He reached across the top of the piano and grabbed several pieces of staff paper and a pencil.

He spent the next few hours writing the first piece he had written in years. It started off slow and almost full of melancholy, the tempo increasing as it the piece wore on. By the end it had turned into what some would call a modernized twist on a traditional Jewish medley and his heart sank as he realized that it was a piece about her. A piece for her. A serenade she would most likely never hear after how things had ended up between them.

It was the first night he would be spending alone. They had always alternated between his apartment and her house, majority of the time choosing the latter, both being more comfortable there. She was happier at her house, and he preferred her place because it wasn't full of the memories of lonely nights where he had passed out from his intake of alcohol. There were no memories of the nights he had been so desperate for human companionship that he had spent them with hookers who had not been worth the money he had wasted on them.

He stood from his seat the piano. Cursing everything as his leg throbbed with the weight he put on it and he used the wall for support as he limped into his bedroom. He entered his bedroom and spotted a pair of her pajamas on his bed. The sheets were still rumpled from whenever they had last spent the night there. He couldn't bring himself to move them just yet. He felt pathetic for letting himself fall for her so quickly only to cause it all to fall apart. He knew that he was the only one to blame in this situation. He was the one who wasn't willing to commit to child. He was the one causing her pain. He couldn't blame her for wanting to be ready when she told him. It wasn't like it was something that was impossible to happen, but neither had worried about using protection and it had honestly been the last thing to pass through his mind. She had told him she was done with trying, and then this was thrown at them; an unexpected pregnancy and the end of their relationship.

Lisa Cuddy awoke the following morning, her head reeling and her stomach turning. She barely made it to the bathroom before emptying whatever was left in her stomach. She hadn't eaten dinner the night before

and she regretted it as she wretched over the toilet. Two more weeks until the morning sickness would subside. She leaned her head against the cool porcelain before brushing her teeth and washing her face. She caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror and sighed. She looked horrible. There were bags under her red and puffy eyes from tossing and turning all night.

She made her way towards the kitchen, opening the refrigerator and peering aside. Nothing inside called her attention. Eggs made her stomach turn, yogurt made her want to gag. She closed the refrigerator and walked over to the pantry. Cereal would do no good, she didn't have the stomach for any liquids other than water for the time being and she didn't want to eat it dry. She spotted a package of muffins and her stomach growled as she pulled out a chocolate muffin. She bit into it and closed her eyes as she savored the flavor. After not having eaten since noon the previous day it was the best tasting muffin she had ever had. She finished it off and looked at the clock.

It was just past ten. She stretched, feeling better than she had when she had first awoken.

"We don't need him... We'll be okay without him." She murmured as she caressed her abdomen.

"We'll be just fine... The two of us..."

It was half past three when he awoke, hung over and in agonizing pain. He tried to stand but the throbbing in his head caused him to lie back down. He growled as he covered his head with a pillow, the simplest movement causing him discomfort. His body ached and he regretted drinking so much the previous night. After spending two hours at attempting to fall asleep, he had limped back into the living room and grabbed the bottle of scotch from the coffee table and within the half hour he had downed the entire thing.

The alcohol had numbed both his physical pain and emotional distress, having pushed the recent events in his personal life out of his mind. He had gone to bed soon after, not taking any Vicodin because after consuming so much alcohol any type of drug would cause a toxic mixture within his system and the last thing he needed was to have to call an ambulance for himself and to have his stomach pumped. He attempted to get out of bed again, this time succeeding and limping into the kitchen. He yanked open the refrigerator door. The best cure for a hangover was another spent the remainder of the weekend locked in his apartment, not answering his calls and drinking away his problems.

Monday came sooner than he had expected and he considered skipping work. He didn't want to see her. He didn't want to sit in his office and hear the click of her heels along the hallways when she came to chastise him for whatever procedure he would do without her permission. He didn't want to face for the first time what his stupidity and his inability to be selfless had caused him to lose. He went in at noon, hoping he would avoid running into her since she was usually locked in her office reading a book while she ate her lunch.

He limped into the clinic and sighed as he spotted her at the nurse's station. She was smiling, her hand on her stomach. He wondered how many people other than themselves knew. He signed in on the time chart, feeling her eyes scrutinizing him.

"You're late." She said as he turned to head towards his office. "You don't have a case, your team is in the ER, which means you're on clinic duty."

He stared at her, analyzing her. She was putting up a strong front, not letting him see her weak side. He knew she was hurt. No amount of make-up could cover up the receding bags under her eyes from crying. He also noted the slight drop in her shoulders, something people often did when they were tired, both emotionally and physically.

"Of course Dr. Cuddy. I'll get my clinic hours done as soon as possible." He replied sarcastically, not meaning a single word that left his mouth.

She of all people knew he would never do his clinic hours, no matter how hard she pressed him. In the time they had spent together he had succumbed to her desires once, and hadn't even completed the amount of hours for the day. He had gone down to the clinic, examined a few patients, and then locked himself in the exam room with the most recent issue of Soap Opera Digest.

He shrugged her off and made his way towards the elevator. He pressed the up button, impatiently tapping his cane against the floor. The doors dinged open and he stepped inside, pressing the button that closed the doors before anyone had a chance to step in with him. The ride to the fourth floor always seemed to take an eternity.

His office was empty, except for one of his fellows sleeping in the outer office, their face concealed. He dropped his things onto his desk before grabbing the giant red and green tennis ball he kept on his desk. Bringing his arm back he flung it forward, hitting who ever had been sleeping in the shoulder. He was surprised to find that it was none other than Chase.

"Why are you sleeping in my outer office?" He questioned.

"Because I needed somewhere to sleep and I still had the key to the outer office, why else?"

"Because you and your lady had an argument and you spent the night here. You have nothing better to do because the ER is being taken over by my ducklings, so you don't need to be down there with her when you dont want to. Then of course there's the fact that you're Cuddy's favorite out of everyone and you kiss her ass by getting your clinic hours done before you even need them to get done. So you came here to catch up on your beauty sleep because you spent the night feeling guilty for whatever the hell you argued over."

"My personal life is none of your business. Worry about your own personal life because from the gossip around the hospital it sounds like things with you and Cuddy are done."

"What do you know?"

"Nothing besides one of the nurses saying that they saw you enter her office on Friday and come out looking as mad as a Koala whose Eucalyptus leaves have been taken from him. Then the same nurse saw her leave and they said she looked like she had been crying."

"Which nurse?"

"No idea and if I did know, I wouldn't tell you. It's none of my business. I have my own issues to worry about."

He let out a low dark laugh as he younger man stared at him.

"You need help." Chase simply stated as he rolled his eyes before walking out of the room.

House shrugged before walking next door to Wilson's office. He entered unannounced as he usually did and dropped down on the couch, swinging his feet onto the arm rest.

"Is it true?" He heard Wilson ask. He rolled his eyes before sighing in an irritated manner.

"Is what true?"

"Did you two really break up? I thought things were going good between you two... You told her you loved her, that was a big -"

"She's pregnant."

"What?"

"Five weeks along."

"And you don't want it.

" House remained silent, not knowing how to respond. His feelings were still unsure about this situation, it had only been two days, it had not been enough time for it to sink in.

"You know, I know you have your issues, but I honestly never thought you would be so selfish. You told her you loved her. You just don't say that to anyone unless you mean it. Yet you find out that she's carrying your child, a product of the love you both have for each other, and you tell her you don't want it? You leave her when she needs you to support her more than ever? You leave her after one bump in the road. How could you love her when you aren't even willing to compromise for her?"

"Who are you to be talking about love when you've gone through three failed marriages? You've never had this happen to you. You and your wives never had kids or had something similar to this happen. It's for that kid's own good. Having me as a father would ruin them. I would be worse than my own father. That kid deserves better. Cuddy's gorgeous, she's still good looking, she'll still be good looking after having that kid. She can find someone else, she can find someone who's going to treat her how she deserves to be treated and who will be the father that kid needs. I'm not that guy."

He was sitting up now, surprised by how riled up he had gotten. It was as if everything he had been feeling for the past two days had finally reached a boiling point, making him recognize his feelings towards the situation.

"You're an idiot. You couldn't have told her that?"

"I didn't know I felt that way until now okay! All I knew was that I didn't want a kid and that I was angry at her for not telling me right away."

"I don't understand you. For someone with such a high IQ, you're not rational majority of the time. You don't think. This a woman whom has never been open with anyone but herself and us when it came to her personal life when we weren't a part of whatever was bothering her. Don't you think that with the fact that you were in a relationship together and that the news of her pregnancy were so shocking and unexpected to her that she would need time to absorb the shock of it herself?"

The conversation was doing nothing but irritate him. House stood and walked out of Wilson's office, leaving his best friend wondering what the hell was wrong with him.