Hey, guys! Here's the next chapter. Hope you enjoy!!!
Wilson watched as House limped off the elevator. Staring at his friend in surprise, Wilson let the elevator go on without him and stepped alongside of House instead.
"You're walking," Wilson said.
"I'm walking," House agreed, taking another solid, but painful step.
"I'm shocked," Wilson added.
House stopped near his conference room door and faced Wilson.
"They gave me this stupid cane for a while." House held up the four pronged cane that would give him better balance.
"I can't believe you're walking already," Wilson told him. "It's only been a few weeks since you got that cast off."
"Yeah," House replied. "I'm bionic."
"Or can't feel the pain." Wilson raised his eyebrows.
"Don't worry." House leaned closer to his friend, eyes darkened. "I still feel the pain."
With that, he entered into the conference room and his team watched as he headed toward the white board. Before any of them could comment on his walking, House picked up the marker and began.
"What have we got?"
His team stared at him a moment before Chase spoke up.
"Nothing."
"Oh," House responded. He capped the marker and pulled out his Vicodin bottle. He popped the lid off.
"Are you all right, House?" Foreman asked, his eyebrows shooting up.
"I'm fine." He popped three pills into his mouth.
"House," Cameron scolded with a frown on her face. "Don't you think that's a little excessive?"
"No," he replied brightly. "I'll be in my office."
House limped his way into his office. He crossed to his desk and moved around it to sit in his chair. He leaned back as his eyes closed, letting his new round of drugs kick in.
"We should say something to Cuddy," Cameron spoke up, her tone mixed with concern and disgust at House's recent behaviors.
"He'd be pissed," Chase told her, eyeing up House.
"Well, he shouldn't be practicing medicine like that," Cameron pointed out, her eyes settling back on House, whose mouth was now wide open as his feet were propped up on his desk.
"I agree." Foreman focused his gaze on House as well.
"Don't worry." Cameron swiveled her chair to face the other two. "I'll do it."
"You're doing great, Lisa," Jane encouraged. "That's right."
Cuddy kept her focus ahead, breathing heavily as she clutched tightly onto the parallel bars. She lifted her right foot, the braces helping to keep her steady, and planted it in front of her.
Jane took a step back, hands on either side of Cuddy, spotting her. Kevin was following from behind with the wheelchair.
"You've got this down, Dr. Cuddy," Kevin told her.
"Great." Jane nodded and gave Cuddy a smile. "One more step with the left."
Cuddy scrunched her face up. She was tired and she hated her left side. With much determination, she lifted her left foot just enough to swing it forward to the ground. She let out a sigh of relief at accomplishing the task.
"All right," Jane said. "Sit." Jane waited for Cuddy to do so before asking, "how did that feel?"
"Good," Cuddy told her.
"It felt good?" Jane locked eyes with Cuddy, making sure she was getting the truth.
"Yeah," Cuddy answered, nodding.
"How about the braces?" Jane knelt down and tinkered with them. "Were they all right?"
"Yeah, they're fine," Cuddy replied. "I can't wait to get them off."
Jane looked up at Cuddy before standing. "It won't be too long until we can start to work without them. You're really making progress."
"Thanks." Cuddy smiled.
"Kevin's going to get you some water and then we'll work on strengthening those leg muscles of yours," Jane said. "How does that sound?"
"Tiring."
Jane chuckled and patted Cuddy on the shoulder. "You bet."
Cameron knocked almost hesitantly on the door to Cuddy's office. Cuddy lifted her eyes to the door and waved Cameron in. Cameron made sure the door was closed behind her before she crossed the room.
"Yes, Dr. Cameron?" Cuddy asked.
"I need to talk to you about something," Cameron told her.
"Sure." Cuddy gave a slight nod. "Sit down."
Cameron sat across from Cuddy's desk. Cuddy waited for her to go on, but Cameron remained silent. She didn't want to betray House, but she knew it wasn't safe for him to be high at work.
"Well?" Cuddy prompted.
"This isn't easy." Cameron paused a moment. "It has to do with House." She paused for a second time. "It's just... he's been taking quite a lot of Vicodin since the collapse and I've been worried about him and his job performance."
"Uh-huh." Cuddy nodded, encouraging her to go on.
"I wouldn't say anything unless I really thought he had a problem and... I think he has a problem."
"You were right to tell me." Cuddy wanted to assure Cameron that it was the right thing to do since she still seemed a bit unsure. "I'll take care of it."
Cameron nodded and stood up, wondering if it really could be that easy. She figured that maybe Cuddy already had suspicions about House's behavior. Cameron exchanged an uneasy smile with Cuddy before leaving the office.
Once the door was closed, Cuddy drew in a breath. She knew this issue with House wasn't going to get any better on its own. She picked up her phone and dialed for his office line.
House stepped into Cuddy's office and swung the door closed behind him. Cuddy wheeled herself around her desk and stopped in front of it. House's eyes remained on her.
"You bellowed?" he asked.
"I've been getting reports," Cuddy told him.
"About?" House prompted and leaned heavily on his cane.
"Your drug habit," she cut to the chase.
"What are you talking about?"
He didn't give even the slightest pause before speaking, playing dumb so well that if Cuddy didn't know any better, she would be sure she was the one mistaken. However, she did know better and so she narrowed her eyes at him.
"You're getting your hands on more Vicodin. You're taking more than you should."
House shook his head. "Wilson doesn't know what he's talking about."
"I've heard it from several sources," Cuddy said.
He sized her up, then, unsure if she was trying to trick him.
"Who else?"
"I can't tell you that," she replied.
"All right." House shrugged and drew in a breath. "So, what do you want?"
"I want to know if it's true." She folded her arms over her chest.
"Nope," he told her simply.
Her eyes narrowed once again. "Greg."
House shrugged. "I've got pain, Cuddy. As do you."
"I've been told that after the accident, you were constantly trying to get your pain medication increased."
Cuddy sized him up. Her statement wasn't entirely true. She was sure he had tried to get his medication upped through slight rumors she happened to overhear, but she was never told directly. He went for it though and now she knew it was true.
"Because I was in pain," he defended himself.
"I'm under the impression it's more than that," she pressed further with the conversation, thinking back to the words she had exchanged with Wilson weeks ago.
"Well, you're wrong," House said. "I'm taking the amount of drugs I need to manage pain. No more."
"Is your pain that bad, House, because you're taking a hell of a lot of drugs," she challenged him.
"I don't need this."
House turned and limped heavily toward her office door. He had the door open when she spoke up.
"You feel guilty." He stopped, so she continued. "And you're trying to kill that guilt with painkillers."
He faced her and stepped back into her office, tossing the door closed behind him. She couldn't read the expression on his face. It wasn't angry and it wasn't necessarily upset. It was somewhat blank and possibly cold.
"Why the hell would I be guilty, Cuddy?" House asked her, holding back a sigh.
Cuddy wheeled herself a bit closer to him. "You're feeling the same guilt I felt when I agreed with Stacy to do your surger–"
"It's not the same," he quickly cut her off. Cuddy thought he was going to deny all of it, but then he added, "I've got a limp, you can't walk. There's a difference."
There it was and Wilson was right as he usual. Cuddy wheeled herself even closer to House, feeling sympathy for him.
"I can't walk yet," she clarified. "I will walk again."
"Now?" He raised his eyebrows at her.
"Well..." She frowned and then shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. If I had–"
"Let's see it, then."
House hurriedly limped to her chair and put her brakes on. She stared at him, confused and curious as to whether he was serious or not.
"What?" she asked him, wanting to know what he was doing.
"Let's see you walk."
House moved her foot pedals out of the way and let his cane fall to the floor. He grounded himself and wrapped his arms around her waist. She continued to stare in stunned disbelief that he was serious about this.
"You said you can do it right now," he reminded her.
"House, let go of me." Cuddy placed her hands on his shoulders, trying to push him off.
"Come on, Cuddy."
He only held onto her tighter as she struggled. House used what strength he could manage and pulled her to her feet, almost toppling backwards. His thigh was about to buckle and his freshly healed leg was burning with pain, but he remained standing and holding Cuddy up.
"Walk," House commanded, his face growing red from his pain. "Go on."
"Stop it." Cuddy tried to keep herself balanced, but House had her at a strange angle. "You know I can't—"
"That's right," he snapped. "You can't."
She shut her mouth then, his words sinking in and hurting. Color began to crawl up her chest, over her neck, and to her cheeks.
"Let go of me."
House set her back down in the wheelchair, beginning to feel shame for his own actions. He immediately reached for his cane and used it to limp as fast as he could from her office, slamming the door behind him.
Cuddy sat in her wheelchair near the end of the bed. She could hear Sally in the kitchen, putting the dishes away. With a sigh, Cuddy tossed the book she was trying to read onto her bed. She wheeled herself closer to the bed.
Since her encounter with House earlier, she couldn't get him out of her mind. He had insulted her, embarrassed her, only to get the heat off of himself. It made her angry, but also gave her a sense of determination.
Cuddy pulled the levers on either side of her wheelchair to unlock the foot rests. She pushed them back out of the way and put her brakes on. Clutching tightly onto the armrests, Cuddy forced herself to stand.
She quickly reached for her bed to help keep her standing. She was leaning heavily against it, her legs ready to buckle, but she clenched her teeth and found her strength to remain standing.
Cuddy wanted to walk. She wanted to prove House wrong, to be able to show him that she was strong and better. Even though she knew she couldn't be fixed overnight nor just by wishing it, she still wanted to try.
Still leaning heavily against the bed, Cuddy placed more weight on her left side as she attempted to lift her right leg. She slid it along the floor a few inches before distributing her weight evenly. She drew in her breath and put more weight on her right side, wanting to move her left foot now.
However, her legs began to shake, not being able to support her anymore. Letting out a cry, Cuddy crumpled to the floor, managing to knock her wheelchair over in the process. She let out a frustrated groan at her failure.
Sally entered into the bedroom and hurried to Cuddy's side.
"Dr. Cuddy."
She set Cuddy's wheelchair upright before helping Cuddy back into the chair. Once Cuddy was settled, Sally put the foot rests back into place.
"Are you all right?" Sally asked her.
"I'm fine," Cuddy told her.
"Did you need something?" Sally looked down at Cuddy, confused as to why and how she ended up on the floor.
Cuddy shook her head. "No, no."
"What were you doing?" Sally was still concerned.
"Nothing," she quickly replied. "You can finish whatever it was you were doing."
Cuddy reached around Sally for her book and opened it to her prior place. Sally lingered for a moment before heading out of the room. Cuddy stared down at the words on the page, but she couldn't focus on them. She let out an aggravated sigh and snapped the book shut.
