A/N: Hey all! Thank you all so much for all the reviews, it's helped a lot. I struggled a bit with this chapter, as I warned before, House might be OOC but I didn't want him to be TOO out there. Anyway, here's the next chapter and I hope you all enjoy it, I aimed for some length this time, let me know what you think.

It's a long time after his team has gone home that House sits at his desk, staring through the glass, eyes boring into the floor like it does in fact, hold all the answers. His fingers are tapping impatiently on top of the desk, next to a single sheet of paper. He may be brilliant, but at the moment, his mind is running a mile a minute and he can't believe how hard this and can't fathom why people would actually choose to do this on a daily basis. People who endure this just because are idiots. He's having a hell of a time and he has yet to write on single word, never mind a whole letter. He attempts to think of this objectively and wonders if maybe that had been his problem the whole time. The fact that he doesn't let himself become emotionally involved. When he does, there is always a limit, he's always looking to dodge that issue before it even presents itself. With clarity, he sees that if he had put as much effort into making her happy as he had in trying to keep himself safe, this letter probably wouldn't be needed in the first place.

With a deep sigh, he picks up the pen and jots down a few words before screwing up his face with distaste and hastily balling up the piece of paper and dropping it into the trashcan sitting next to this desk. Idly, he wonders if it would be as meaningful if he just had Wilson write the damn thing. No, he thinks, Wilson would screw it up with flowery words and promises that House knew he wouldn't be able to keep. He really had no idea that it would be this hard when he decided that this was going to be his first move. It wasn't even the feelings part, because he had plenty of those. It was that he didn't know what the simple point of the letter should be. Was it going to be an apology? An attempt to get her back? He wasn't sure yet, but what he did know was that he wasn't going to get any of it done here. Home was calling him and while he didn't necessarily look forward to spending another night alone, he knew that it's what was needed to focus and actually accomplish something.

Without a sound, he rose from his desk and slipped into his jacket. Slinging his bag over his shoulder and grabbing his cane, he limped out of his office and down the hall. He remembered coming out of the elevator this morning and seeing her in his office, her shapely behind was the first thing he noticed, but the pang that hit next was definitely more important. He limped as quietly as he could so as not to startle her and he simply watched. She looked tired, that was for sure and he suddenly remembered that she was recovering from surgery and longed to ask her how she was recuperating. Sensing a shift in the atmosphere, he ran his eyes back up to her head and saw that she had turned her face a bit, and at the strangled sob, he knew what she was looking at. Quickly he went to step forward, only to realize that he didn't want to explain why the photograph was sitting on his desk. At that point, he just wanted her to give it back. It was all he had left of what used to be his. He wasn't sure if he was expecting her to rip it in two before stomping on It with her death-heels but he knew that he wasn't expecting her to loosen her fingers and run out of the room while it fluttered down to the floor.

Arriving home he realized that he had been on autopilot, he couldn't remember exiting the hospital and the drive to his apartment. Off-handedly he thought he should eat something but he wasn't in the mood to relieve his stomach pain. The pain in his chest a much bigger priority. As he slouched lazily on the couch his thoughts drifted to her, it was going on nine p.m. and he thought she might be snuggled on the couch with a book or most likely snuggled on the couch with her laptop and numerous files that never seemed to be able to wait for the next day. He wondered what she might be wearing and if she was thinking about him. Just like that, his brain started rolling out thoughts of how he missed her and dammit, he loved her. Only her and he what he would to have her back, a pill flushing party maybe or would she want him to beg? He didn't know if he could handle that. Begging for more in the throes of passion and lust was one thing…but getting down on his knees and begging for forgiveness wasn't really his style. Not that getting down on his knees was very easy for him. Closing his eyes, he began to write to her in his mind, which for some reason was a hell of a lot easier that writing it on paper. .

Cuddy,

I know that what I did was hurtful and wrong. I betrayed you when you needed me the most. I've hurt you before, many times, but never like that. I was thinking about relieving my own pain and not about helping you through yours. You needed to know that you weren't alone and that you had someone to help you through it and I failed. I failed miserably. Part of me keeps hoping that you'll come back, fight with me viciously but love me enough to look past my billionth mistake. The rational part of me realizes that probably won't happen and I have no one to blame but myself. I'm also hoping that in a couple of months I'll stop hoping for you to come back and after that I'll stop wishing. I never realized exactly how much you meant to me until now and it's a shame because I never treated you with the amount of love and respect that I felt for you. My mistake made me realize that I need you, I really do.

I've never really regretted anything that I've ever done until now. I regret taking that pill so much that it aches and I wanted to let you know that I'm so very sorry, Lisa. If there is any way, any way, for use to move past this and work towards out relationship just one last time, please let me know. I can only hope that you are reading this and didn't just throw it away. I know that you're angry and hurt, but I don't want you to ever again doubt that I love you.

-House

Flicking open his eyes, House was startled by the fall of tears dripping from his eyes. While he knew the reason for it, he also knew that he felt a little relieved that he was trying. Trying to bridge the gap between them and repair something that was so damn difficult but so worth it. He could only hope that she still felt the same because he didn't know what the fall out would be like if she didn't.

Twenty minutes later after stuffing his letter into an envelope addressed to her, he slid into bed and ran a palm over her side, smiling a little to himself at the thought that she might be back there soon. Not knowing that across town, the object of his thoughts was doing the same but without the positive nugget of information that he had.

A/N: How did I do? Don't be shy! Reviews are awesome and you guys rock. Thanks for reading.