I'm sorry for the ridiculously long delay, have so much going with university application/exams/coursework etc but I've finally gotten around to the next chapter! Hope I haven't put you off, will try to update more regularly from now on.

Also, just want to praise 'In the House' for the amazing 'Pranks' series/universe she's written, has me slightly addicted and I'm always waiting for the next chapter! Probably also part of the reason this has taken me so long to upload, I seriously recommend you go and read them from the beginning if you're a big House/Cuddy fan.

Taub, Chase and Foreman weren't sure what to expect when they got the page to come to House's room. Chase was still apprehensive about what he'd done, Foreman, while he'd never admit it, was House's biggest admirer and Taub was just scared he would be in a foul mood, however when they approached and saw that he was sitting up with his glasses on and file across his lap, they relaxed slightly. Chase slid the door open, and House looked up.

'So which of you morons took the history?' He asked in a surprisingly normal manner.

'I did,' Foreman replied, stepping forward. 'No previous surgeries, broken arm when she was 12, not on any medication, she works for an advertising agency, her husband is currently in Ecuador as he's part of a surgical team working in a rural hospital to fix cleft palates and she hasn't seen him in 3 months. No family history or heart problems or any known genetic conditions-'

'Just stop, you've obviously missed something. Who checked the home?' House interjected.

'Myself and Taub,' Chase answered, 'there was no mould, no pesticides, nothing out of the ordinary.'

'Mmm hmm, now tell me, does the patient experience any itching?'

'She was scratching her arms a bit, why?'

'Oh and you didn't think that relevant? Now also tell me, has this husband of hers also sent her a few gifts since he's been away?'

'How the hell are we supposed to know?' Foreman asked, getting frustrated now that House obviously knew the answer and yet was stringing them along for maximum effect. Cuddy glanced up from the magazine she'd been reading quietly in the corner, also intrigued that he'd got the diagnosis so quickly despite everything going on, when she herself hadn't seen anything.

'Actually, did you see the cardigan she was wearing when she was admitted?' Taub asked the room, the first he'd said since being there. When he got no response, he continued. 'It was made from alpaca wool and looked hand woven, it was probably a gift.'

'See? I knew the women Taub spends his time with would finally rub off on him!'

'I still don't see how that's relevant,' Foreman replied incredulously.

'Oh come on, do I have to spell this out? I'm high and I got this in 2 minutes! I thought it would be fun seeing the look on your faces when you finally worked out what idiots you'd been but apparently we won't get that far.' He closed the file and took his glasses off. 'She's got Onchocerciasis, or river-blindness.'

'But she's not lost her sight or been to sub-Saharan Africa?' Chase reasoned, not quite believing the diagnosis.

'You're questioning me? Seriously? For a start, I'm board certified in Infectious disease, which should be enough for you. Secondly, it's also occasionally found in central and south America, one of the little worms must have made its way back in the yarn, and thirdly, it just simply hadn't reached her eyes yet. Happy? Start her on doxycycline, she'll be fine. Just get her to incinerate the cardigan.'

He sat back in the bed and pushed his thumbs into his eyes, the tiredness and pain taking its toll. Cuddy stood up and picked the file up off of his lap and handed it to Foreman. 'Start the treatment, if she doesn't get better, let me know,' she emphasised. He nodded, and they turned and left the room.

'Are you ok?' she asked, sitting on the edge of his bed.

'I'm fine,' he mumbled, unmoving.

'I'm sorry, I shouldn't have given you the case. I thought it would help take your mind off things.'

He lowered his hands into his lap and played with her fingertips which were resting there. 'You did the right thing, it did help and I didn't feel any pain when I was working it out,' he smiled weakly. 'What did cause pain was seeing that the morons I call a team couldn't work something as simple as that out.'

'Come on, I didn't see it either,' she smirked, trying to deflect some of the fire away from his fellows.

'Yeah, but you aren't really a doctor anymore, are you?' He said dead pan, taking her back a little until he too smirked, causing her to relax once again. 'I just would have expected them to be a bit hotter on something like that.'

'Yeah, well, they can't all be Gregory House now, can they?'

'No they can't,' he agreed. Cuddy stood up and smoothed out his duvet.

'Is there anything you want me to do for you before you go to sleep? She asked, getting ready for another night on the chair.

'Yeah,' he replied, 'I want you to go home, get a really decent sleep, and come back tomorrow with Rachel.'

'House, I'm fine, I went home this afternoon and even if you do want Rachel here, which I can't believe, I think you want her because you think I want her, I can just go and pick her up in the morning.'

'A few hours sleep doesn't make up for 5 nights in a chair, please, I want you to sleep properly, and I really do want Rachel here. Not just because she makes you happy, but because she makes me smile and I desperately want to have a conversation with someone who isn't pitying me, or blaming me, or-'

'Blaming you? Who's blaming you?' She asked, suddenly at attention and walking to the foot of his bed.

'Well not you, at least you say you don't and I know you're trying to believe it, but I can tell Taub thought it was my fault, and the nurses are looking at me funny.'

'House, you really need to understand this, the only person other than Mr Shoreditch that I blame for this is myself, not you. And secondly, since when did you care what other people think? And to be honest, the nurses just all think you're a jerk, that's why they're looking at you funny.'

'Ok,' he replied, in a desperate attempt to end the conversation.

'I'm serious!'

'Ok, I believe you,' he whispered, his eyes starting to droop as the day's activities started to take a serious toll. 'Please go home, you need to sleep properly and being here isn't helping you.'

'Yes, it is. There is nowhere I'd rather be than the place where you are, and besides, I'll have to go home tomorrow night when I have Rachel so one more night here won't do me any harm.' She sat back down in the chair and tenderly stroked House's forehead as his eyes finally came to a close, too tired to protest anymore. She sighed, devastated at what had become of him, and devastated for the state of his and Wilson's friendship.

H

House was aroused from his not so peaceful slumber following his physical therapy session the next afternoon by the gleeful squeal of a four year old. 'House!' Rachel exclaimed and freed her hand from her mother's on spying her playmate through the glass windows of his room.

'Rachel be careful!' Cuddy tried to instruct but her words fell on deaf ears as her daughter careered towards House, who was trying his hardest to look anything but in pain.

He slowly propped himself up on his bed and prepared for the onslaught, however he had to admit that seeing Rachel in all her innocence, her being the only human besides his mother who never saw his faults, had dramatically improved his so far pain and boredom riddled day.

'Hey, Rach,' he smiled as she finally stopped running when she reached the side of his bed. 'Did you enjoy Aunt Julia's?' He was trying his hardest to portray normality for her, the last thing she needed was to know how dire he felt, and she definitely didn't need to know that this was only the beginning.

Cuddy had reached the room and was trying to prise Rachel's coat of her, she too excited to do it herself, and she gave House's hand a reassuring squeeze.

'It was ok. Luke made me play dinosaurs with him all weekend and Aunt Julia made me eat spinach but it was ok, because we went out and had ice cream and I had honeycomb!'

'Honeycomb! But everyone knows that rum and raisin is the best, but remember when you ask Aunt Julia for it to ask for it minus the raisin.'

'Minus the raisin,' she affirmed seriously, as if it were her most vital task to remember that information.

House smiled at her, he was surprised by how attached he had grown to Rachel and when he and Cuddy first started seeing each other he definitely didn't expect it, but as he truthfully told Cuddy yesterday, he honestly had wanted to see her. Cuddy was watching their interaction with a warm glow inside, never having believed that one day this could be her life. The only amendment she would make would be that this was happening at home, in her living room, and not in a hospital room.

The silence was broken by a small voice. 'House?' Rachel asked seriously.

'Yeah?' He said smiling, and sweeping her fringe out of her eyes.

'When will you be better?' Her words shook him to the core. How was he supposed to answer her question truthfully? And what did she want to know? When would he be out of the hospital? When would he not need the cane? Cuddy desperately wanted to step and save the situation, but she knew that this was something that House would need for himself, and besides, Rachel hadn't asked her and she's had plenty of opportunity to.

House blinked a couple of times, before leaning over the side of the bed and in one swift movement lifted her next to his left side. Her little fist grabbed onto his gown and she rested her head on his shoulder as she patiently waited for her answer. 'Soon, Rach. In a couple of days we can watch cartoons together all day, and then I may have to go away for a little while, and then I'll come back and I'll be all better, ok?'

'Where will you go?' She asked in a concerned voice. Why would he be leaving her?

'To somewhere with special doctors who can help me.'

'But Mummy's a doctor, she can help you!' Rachel replied cheerfully, as if she had just solved all of the problems that needed answers.

House stalled. There was no way that he could get Rachel to understand this, but Cuddy on the other hand, who was now gazing at him intently, wanted a valid answer as to why after her promise to stay with him he was deciding to do it alone.

'I know Mummy's a doctor Rach, and she's amazing. In fact, she's the best person in the world that anyone would want to be with them when they're sick, but sometimes it isn't fair to make her do all of the work and she needs to understand that sometimes, she needs to be selfish and do what's right for her.' Rachel had switched off. All she had gauged was that House was still going to leave and that her Mummy was the best doctor in the world, but for Cuddy, the words had a much deeper meaning.

Rachel was still firmly placed on House's chest while Cuddy's steely eyes looked at him with incredulity. This was definitely a conversation they were going to need to have. However that would have to wait because at that moment, a very dishevelled albeit slightly more together-looking oncologist had appeared at the window.

'Come on Rach,' Cuddy said, the first of the pair to recover, 'we need to go and sort some things out in my office and let House and Uncle James talk.'

'Uncle James!' Rachel exclaimed and sat up. Uncle James was by far her favourite uncle, why wasn't he coming in the room? Cuddy scooped her daughter up in her arms and gave House a lingering kiss on the lips.

'Do you want me to make him leave?' She whispered so only he could hear.

'No,' he mumbled, his eyes still locked onto his 'best friend', 'I need to speak to him.'

'Ok. Well get one of the nurses to let me know when you want me to come back.' He nodded slightly, and Cuddy left the room, giving Wilson a withering look. Rachel was too confused to say a word, aghast that her favourite people in the world were no longer happy to see each other.

H

Wilson sat fidgeting in the chair which Cuddy has reluctantly vacated. House was yet to say a word, and Wilson knew he'd have to initiate the conversation. He'd expected screaming, a character assassination, but so far nothing.

'I'm sorry if I came at a bad time,' he started. 'Cuddy didn't say when would be a good time to come by, I didn't know Rachel was visiting.'

'Cuddy told you to come by?'

'No. She suggested that I should, to 'try to fix our twisted friendship.' I didn't know whether you would want to see me, but when she said that I just thought that, I don't know, that she was right and that I owe it to you to explain.'

'Damn right you do.' House stonily replied.

Wilson sat for a moment and tried to gather his thoughts, try to work out the best way to explain his thought processes, all the while House waited.

'The only way I can describe it, was that I was being selfish,' he started as House looked on, still waiting. 'House, I don't know what to say. I was put on the spot in a stressful situation and all I could think about was Amber.'

'Amber?' House asked, now thoroughly confused.

'It was supposed to be her 35th birthday. That evening I had planned to go to her grave, we were going to have dinner together, I'd bought flowers, and instead I was here with you. Again. And all that was running through my mind was that yet again I had to be the one to cover your back when I should have been with Amber. Due to your arrogance and stupidity, once again, she was the one who would have to suffer.' Wilson's eyes had filled with hot, angry, devastating tears and House remained unmoving. He was trying to process what he'd heard, and God knows it wasn't all rational, but in that moment he forgave Wilson.

House, deep down, blamed himself for Amber's death and the fact that the decision Wilson made was regarding it almost seemed as penance.

'Ok.' House answered.

'Ok?' Wilson asked. 'How can you say ok? I ruined your sobriety, I'm going to have caused you pain, and all you can say is ok?' He was amazed. This was not the House he was used to and it unnerved him.

'I forgive you Wilson. You've had to put up with my crap for long enough; it's not a surprise you finally snapped. But there is one thing I ask.'

'Anything,' Wilson sniffed, trying to regain his composure.

'When I get out of here, after I spend a couple of days at home with my family, one of two things is going to happen. One, I check myself into Mayfield, detox, and then come home. Or two, I detox with you. I told Cuddy I was going to go somewhere, go and get help, but the truth is that I need her, and Rachel, and she can't come and see me in Mayfield. If I were with you, at mine or your apartment, I could see her for half an hour a day, and have something to look forward to, to see me through the day. It isn't fair to make her handle this, none of it is her fault. It's not her fault I'm an addict or her fault that you caused me to relapse, and I sure as hell don't want Rachel anywhere near me when this is happening. She doesn't need to see this.'

'Of course. If that's what you need, I will do it.'

'Thank you, Wilson,' House answered sincerely.

'Don't thank me. Please, don't ever thank me.'