Hey guys ! This is probably my last update before I go on vacation to England next week. I'm having a huge lack of inspiration but don't worry, I'll be back with tons of Huddyness on August 20th or so. ;)
So this chapters contains references to 3x09 ' Finding Judas ' and 7x01 ' Now what '. Also, its French translation caused some tears when I posted it a month ago, I'm warning you !

Enjoy!

Chapter Nine

House could hear her whining in her sleep. After spending nights and nights watching her sleeping, he knew exactly when she was about to wake up. Usually, her eyebrows and nose would scrunch into a frown, and then she'd lick her lips; as she was emerging from dreamland, she wouldn't open her eyes, as if trying to enjoy as much as possible the warm cloud she was in. A warm white cloud in the bright blue sky made just for them. A cloud created so that they could lie in the grass and stare at it, imagining its different shapes.

This time, however, she seemed to be emerging from dark and stormy weather.

Cuddy was curled up into a ball, the sheet tightly wrapped around her. He placed a hand on her shoulder and gently shook it, tearing her away from her nightmare. She grumbled, opened her eyes and turned over to face him, holding her stomach. She was vaguely aware of being up, knocked out by the pain.

"'Hurts so much," she uttered before convulsively closing her eyes again. He sighed and reached for the orange bottle on his bedside table. He grabbed one Ibuprofen pill and placed a hand behind her head to help her swallow it. Then she noticed she had soaked the sheet with her own blood.

"Oh shit," she mumbled. "I'm sorry House, I'm so sorry..."

She sat up and leaned her back against the headboard.

"It's not a big deal," he tried to soothe her. "I'll change it."

She felt tears rolling down her cheeks. She couldn't figure out why she was feeling so sad about a sheet. Maybe it wasn't the sheet, maybe she just needed to let her emotions out, needed some relief after falling asleep with a desperate need to cry.

"It's ridiculous." she said. "I shouldn't be crying over that but I–"

She folded her legs and buried her head in between her knees. He saw her trembling and he took her in his arms.

"Shh, shh. It's okay," he whispered. "Let it out."

She cried for a while, slowly rocked by House, until she was only letting out small sobs here and there.

"I'm going to draw you a bath, 'kay ?"

She nodded and then added, "Not a secret magical bath this time."

He chuckled and didn't see her smirk. She eventually raised her head and looked up at him. Her hair was a mess; her eyes were swollen and reddened. Even after she had cried, he thought she looked beautiful. But he would never admit it to her.

"You look like crap," he said instead, making sure she could hear the joke. "You really need a bath."

She giggled and she seemed even more beautiful to him. "Thanks."

She blew her nose in the already fouled sheet and tried to get up, until her lower abdomen painfully reminded her of its presence. She gave up and sat back.

"What time is it?" she suddenly worried, surprised to see him already dressed.

"Eight. I couldn't sleep."

He didn't give any further details. She already knew why, anyway. And obviously, they weren't going to talk about it.

"Greg House being totally awake at eight a.m., it's a red-letter day."

He awkwardly smirked.

"Maybe we could take that bath together?" he suggested.

"Sure."

He rose and limped toward the bathroom. Cuddy listened to the water filling the tub for a moment, staring into the distance. House was acting as if nothing had happened last night and it was scaring her. He seemed to be insensitive and safe from all the difficulties they were going through. For once, she was weaker than he was. But it didn't mean he was strong. He was fragile, too. And because he was keeping it secret, she had no way of knowing how he felt. Maybe they were courting disaster without even being aware of it.

She untangled herself from the sheet and angrily threw it into a ball. Tonight, she would be prepared for her bleeding.

House called her. She picked out a pair of black pants, panties, and a dark sweatshirt from the bag lying at the foot of the bed. She headed into the bathroom, and saw that House was already naked, waiting for her. As usual, she gave him a hand to sink down in the tub. At first, this gesture had seemed uncomfortable for both of them. For him, it was humiliating to need her to take a bath. For her, it was awkward to know she might fail and possibly hurt him. Now they had gotten comfortable with this. He sat in the bath tub and she slowly let go of his shoulders, making sure he was alright.

"You know you need to take those off if you want to have a bath," he said.

She cocked an eyebrow and then realized he was talking about her outfit, completely soaked with blood. She winced.

"Cover your eyes," she replied.

He complied even though he thought this was ridiculous. He had already seen her naked hundreds of time; she had no reason to not feel comfortable with her nudity. She didn't want him to see her bare now that she hated her body for not being able to give birth. He heard her getting rid of her dirty clothes, throwing them into the bedroom with the sheet. Then she cautiously sat in the tub in front of him, her back pressed on his chest.

"Can I open my eyes now?"

"Yup," she agreed, once she made sure he couldn't see much of her body. She didn't even know why she had agreed to the bath if she felt so uncomfortable being naked in front of him. She hadn't wanted to disappoint him. And she wanted to recover the closeness between them. Also, she just wanted some relaxation.

She was dangerously tense, though. She wasn't letting herself go, and he could feel it. He shouldn't have opened his eyes, now he had no idea where to put his hands. He opted for the edge of the tub by default. She was so anxious that he believed she would explode if he touched her. Once upon a time, he had his arms wrapped around her frame, and she had trustfully rested against his torso.

He decided he would try to distract her.

House grabbed the white soap, sitting forgotten beside the silver tap. He plunged it into the warm water to lather it, scrubbing it between his palms. Then he took Cuddy's hand and drew long lingering squeezes all along her knuckles. She moaned, enjoying the unexpected massage. He moved to her palms and the back of her hand after he had cleaned underneath her nails. His hand rang along her arm, spreading soapsuds on her pale skin, feeling her thin bones and her firm muscles. She finally leaned against him.

"Oh… don't stop." she breathed.

He reached her shoulders, ventured along her collarbone and clumsily wandered to her neck but didn't linger there before moving to her other arm. She folded it, following his move. As he got to her hand, their fingers intertwined and remained this way for a moment, forcefully laced. She tucked her head in the crook of his neck and softly kissed his Adam's apple. Finally, they were beginning to feel better. His free hand found shelter on her thigh under the water. She shrugged but didn't reject it.

Then he loosened his embrace a bit, she bent over slightly and gave him access to her back, which he tenderly stroked, drawing senseless patterns from his tortured conscience. Cuddy was literally purring, arching and wriggling to meet his passionate fingers.

"Oh, right there!" she almost cried out in relief when his thumbs pressed on the small of her back. After spending several day and nights lying in a hospital bed, all of her muscles were unpleasantly stiff. He pressed harder; the circles he was drawing on her skin grew bigger and ran along her spine. She arched again in a heavy sigh of well-being. He was disappointed not to be able to see her face. Especially in bed, he always loved to watch her when she was attaining the very last stage of ecstasy.

She fell back against him, half-conscious. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, slowly soothing her as she was recovering from her near-orgasm.

She brutally reacted when one of his hands went down to her stomach.

"House, no. Please, don't touch me!" she protested. He didn't listen to her. He knew this was awful for her but he had to do it, so she could love her body again. Even if it was damaged and dysfunctional, it was hers and she had to accept it. Plus, whether it was dysfunctional or not, it didn't matter to him. She was still gorgeous. And he wanted her to know that.

"Don't!" she yelled as his palm moved to her flank. She struggled, squirmed, tried to escape. His arm was forcefully surrounding her frame, leaving her helpless.

He reached her womb. His touch was so painful to her; she thought she would lose consciousness from fear and the painful emotional. She couldn't bear the idea of him touching this destroyed part of her. She hated it. She didn't even want to remember she had carried a baby. It was too horrible to happen to her, to them. It couldn't be real, it couldn't!

In a desperate move, she accidentally hit his bad leg. He tried to hold back a groan of pain but he grunted anyway.

Once she realized what she had done, Cuddy immediately froze. Right now, she didn't care about her, she cared about him.

"House," she murmured.

"I'm fine," he lied, tightening his embrace.

"House, I'm so sorry..."

"I deserved it."

She sighed and plunged her hand into the water with no hesitation, searching for his thigh. She slowly massaged it, paying attention to every single reaction of his. She felt him let the tension out and he kissed her shoulder blade, thanking her and wordlessly telling her to stop.

He focused on her belly. She seemed to have forgotten about his hands. He tried to touch her again.

"Why are you doing this to me?" she sobbed.

"It's for your own good, Cuddy. It's your body. You can't negate that."

She trembled. He placed his chin on her shoulder, trying to reassure her. After a few minutes, she stopped shaking, finally feeling at ease in his arms. The caresses on her belly were becoming pleasant. She didn't feel ready to join her hands to his yet, but she was clearly enjoying his strokes.

The night is way too warm for them to sleep comfortably. They left the blinds half-opened and opened the window wide, letting in the soft noise of the natural world and sometimes the roar of a car driving along the dark street.

They are both bare, lying above the sheets. They don't even try to touch each other, their skin sticky and sweaty; their breaths are heavy and deep, echoing in the silent room.

House quietly stares at her. Her grey eyes are gleaming and her curves are slightly revealed in the dark. He takes his time to observe her hills and valleys magnificently drawn in black and white.

Rolling closer to her, his head rests near her swollen breast. He drapes an arm over her belly, protectively cupping it. Cuddy doesn't make a move. The heat is too stifling for her to move. Instead, surprised by this sudden tender gesture, she just whispers:

"What are you doing?"

"Hugging my offspring."

She giggles. His thumb starts drawing soft circles on her skin without him noticing. He curls up against her, thinking that his body perfectly fits with hers. She slips her hand in his hair and tenderly caresses his scalp, watching him from the corner of her eyes. He seems lost in his thoughts. After a while, he rises and sits beside her. He bends over, places his mouth on top of her womb and lays a lingering peck there. She smiles, his stubble lightly scratching her skin and contrasting with the softness of his thin lips. He lies back, buries his nose in her neck and wraps an arm around her stomach.

"I love your belly," he murmurs. "You'll be a great mom."

Cuddy's arm surrounds his shoulder. He continues.

"I'm sorry I told you you'd suck as a mother. I didn't mean it."

"I know you didn't." He opens his mouth but she shushes him. "I've already forgotten."

"You haven't."

She sighs, staring into the distance. He is right. She will never forget. Even now, his words still hurt. She pictures the scene again, her sitting under a shower nozzle with a child in her arms, and him shouting these horrible things at her.

"I haven't." she admits.

He lifts his head and kisses her cheek.

"You'll be a great mom, I have no doubts. You're already great with Rachel," he says again.

"And you'll be a great dad," she smiles at him. "You are."

He doesn't know how to answer. They have never talked about him being any kind of a father to Rachel. He loves spending time with the kid but Cuddy has never really given him her blessing. Her grin grows wider before his sudden shyness. She cups his jaw in her palm.

"I'm proud of you House."

He looks up at her with an intense glance. He feels so happy but it's so hard to tell her. Instead, he kisses her lips ardently, expressing all his feelings through that kiss. She wraps her arms around his neck, letting him deepen their embrace. Soon, they have to pull apart to grasp some air. He places his forehead against hers, looking her in the eye. He feels her dozing off and so does he. He gently lays her back before rolling onto his side beside her, his arm around her belly.

TBC.. Keep the reviews going please!