Reconciliations: A House MD Story Chapter 10, a house, m.d. fanfic

Reconciliations: A House M.D. Story

A/N: Isn't it frustrating when a chapter ends with uncertainty, leaving you wondering what on earth is going to happen and having to wait for the next chapter to be published to find out? So do I…but I know it keeps me reading and that's the whole point. Thank you for continuing to follow along and I hope that each chapter makes you need to read the next! Enjoy!

Songs that helped inspire this chapter include: "Your Love is Just a Lie" by Simple Plan, "It Will Be Me" by Faith Hill.

Chapter Ten

"I really appreciate this, Wendy," Chloe said to the older woman. The chaplain was writing down the last of the instructions she was leaving with her pastor's wife whom had agreed to stay in the house with Sara while she was out. Sara was thirteen and was a little incensed that her mother thought she still needed a babysitter, but Chloe didn't feel comfortable leaving Sara alone for what could amount to be overnight or longer in a new house and new city. Wendy Brand had been more than willing to come over when she heard why Chloe had to leave.

As soon as she had hung up a second time after a conversation with James Wilson Chloe began to look for someone willing to come over at such short notice. The oncologist had told her about Greg's angry exit and the potential danger the diagnostician could be in if he wasn't located as soon as possible. When he asked her if she could come over and stay at his apartment while he and the police hunted for Greg, how could she say no? She couldn't stop thinking about the lunch date she had with Greg and their conversation. She had found herself beginning to care a great deal for the doctor as he opened his heart to her and she could tell by the look in his eyes that the same had been true for him. Never before in her life had she felt such a strong connection with someone in such a short period of time. Chloe was frightened that she wouldn't have another chance to spend that kind of time with him again if she didn't do what she could to help Wilson find him.

"It's not a problem," the older woman assured Chloe as she took the sheet of instructions from her. "I just hope this fellow is found safe and sound."

So do I, Chloe thought. Please God, let Greg be okay!

Chloe headed for the front door, stopping in the living room to give Sara a kiss good-bye on the forehead.

"Bed at ten, no later," Chloe reminded her daughter after pulling earphones out of her daughter's ears. "Listen to Mrs. Brand. Okay?"

"Oui, Maman," Sara said as she inserted her IPod earphones back into her ears.

Putting on her jacket, Chloe grabbed the keys to her van from the silver dish sitting on a half-moon table next to the door.

"I'll call you when I know more," she promised Wendy as she grabbed her purse and slung it over her shoulder. She unbolted the lock and pulled the door open. The rain had stopped for the first time all day. "Bye!"

"Bye," the pastor's wife said and turned to go to the kitchen.

Chloe took one step out, shutting the door behind her and stopped dead in her tracks. Standing at the bottom of the steps stood Greg House, looking up at her. He was soaking wet and the grimace on his face bespoke of the pain he was experiencing. Her heart leapt in her chest. He was alright! But what was he doing outside her door, and how did he know where she lived?

"Hi," he said simply. "Going somewhere?"

Chloe grinned broadly and took the steps down two at a time. Before she knew what she was doing she wrapped her arms around him in a hug. He didn't protest. He tentatively returned the embrace and Chloe couldn't believe how good it felt. She had been asking God all day why she felt feelings for the man that she barely knew, but had received no answer. He smelled so good, not of some kind of cologne or soap but just him. She didn't want to let go but propriety said that she must.

When she withdrew he had a surprised half-smile on his face. Chloe scanned his face, his eyes, trying to reassure herself that he was alright.

"Greg," she said fervently, "I'm so glad to see that you're okay!"

"If I told you that I wasn't okay, will you hug me again?" he asked her, his smile broadening. "What do I get if I tell you I only have a month to live?" He lifted his eyebrows suggestively.

Giving him a little push, Chloe looked at him reproachfully, but the smile remained glued on.

House sobered, stating the obvious, "Wilson told you."

"Yes," Chloe answered. "He called me after you stormed out of his apartment. He said that he was worried that you might have relapsed and in your emotional state may harm yourself. He asked me to come over to his place and wait for you should you return while he went out looking for you. I was on my way there now."

"Did he tell you about the missing Oxycontin?" House pressed further.

Nodding, Chloe studied his face as she asked him carefully, "Did you take it, Greg?"

"No," he told her earnestly, "I didn't. I haven't used, either."

Chloe studied him for a few moments. His eyes were bright and clear and their pupils were appropriately dilated for the low level of light around him; if he was high on an opiod, Chloe knew that his pupils would be constricted and his breathing would be much slower than it was. He didn't appear to be euphoric and she could tell by the way he supported most of the weight of his body on his good leg that he was in pain.

"I believe you," she told him reassuringly. He looked visibly relieved upon hearing that.

"I wish Wilson did," House said, shaking his head in angry disappointment.

"I believe he wants to," Chloe asserted. "Refusing to take a drug test and then punching him wasn't exactly the best way to instill confidence in him, you know. I thought we went over using anger constructively." She gave him a little smile to soften her words.

He smirked and shrugged nonchalantly, "My way is faster."

"Uh huh,"Chloe responded, unconvinced. She took his right hand gently and examined it. He winced in reaction to her touch; his knuckles were bruised and beginning to swell. She shook her head, sighing.

"Come inside, Greg," she urged him. "I'll get some ice for that and I can contact James and let him know that you are alright." She turned to lead him up the steps to the house but he grabbed her hand to stop her.

"No," House objected, not budging from his spot. "You can't contact him, at least not yet. I have to have proof that not only did I not steal the Oxycontin from the hospital, but also that I don't have it in my possession. That's the only way I'll be able to convince Wilson and Cuddy, not to mention the police."

Chloe pondered what he was saying. She was about to tell him that the drug test would do that and then stopped herself. He was correct. All a negative result on a drug test would prove was House hadn't taken anything. It wouldn't prove that he hadn't stolen the Oxycontin and had it stashed away somewhere to use later.

"How will you do that?" She asked him, frowning.

"I know who stole it, and I'm pretty sure I know where it is," He told her confidently.

"Who?" Chloe asked, baffled. How could he know who stole the Oxycontin? Did he see it happen? And if so, why didn't he report it right away and save everybody all of this grief?

House sighed and said without satisfaction, "It was Chase."

Chloe took a step backward, stunned. She studied House's face, looking for some kind of indication that he was joking, but he was as sober as a judge. She watched as the diagnostician reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled something out, hidden in his fist. She couldn't see what it was that he had. She looked at him, puzzled.

"What is that?" she demanded. House took a step towards her and then opened his hand for her to see. Lying in his palm was a single pill. In the dark it was difficult to see exactly what kind of pill it was, but Chloe presumed it was a painkiller. What House was doing with it, she didn't know. Anxiety began to build in her. Had she misjudged him? Had he lied to her about not possessing the missing Oxycontin? She didn't want to believe the worst but she needed to know.

"Let me have a closer look," Chloe told House more calmly than she felt. She held her hand out to him, open and palm up. She watched his face as he carefully deposited the pill in her hand. She pulled her hand back and looked closely at it, but the darkness was hindering her examination.

"I found that next to Chase when we were performing CPR on him at the restaurant," House told her. "It fell out of his pocket and I snatched it up before it was lost."

Chloe looked up at him. He didn't look like he was lying, and yet…she had to be certain. With her free hand she felt for her purse and felt for a side pocket. From it she pulled out her cell phone. House's eyes were suddenly transfixed on it and he was beginning to get nervous.

"What are you doing?" the diagnostician asked her, frowning.

The chaplain didn't answer him. With a flick of her wrist she flipped the phone open. House's entire body seemed to drop in disappointment, his eyes fixed on the phone.

"Shit," he said softly.

* * *

After the long, hot bubble bath Lucas had prepared for her, Cuddy appeared to be much more relaxed. Her mood seemed to have improved considerably. The baby had cooperated with Lucas and had gone to bed without a fuss, which guaranteed him time alone with her mother. Cuddy had emerged from her room wearing a light tank top and pajama pants, her hair up in a terrycloth turban. Lucas had prepared dinner for the two of them, but neither one of them had felt hungry…not for food, that is.

Without much persuasion Cuddy had allowed Lucas to lead her to the bedroom. They slowly undressed each other and re-explored territory they had already covered, now with the knowledge of who liked what where and how. Their lovemaking was wordless, communication being made though looks and touch, gasps and moans of delight.

As they moved closer and closer to a resolution she began to moan louder and cry to him for more, not to stop, don't stop, oh god, more, yes, yes, oh please, yes, more, more…!

Cuddy climaxed and Lucas allowed himself to join her. As her orgasm overwhelmed her she gasped out a name.

It wasn't his.

They usually clung to each other after, panting in exhaustion, sweat droplets rolling down their skin. Lucas cut this time short, withdrawing from her and rolling onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. She laid on her back, panting along with him and an intensely satisfied smile on her lips as echoes of her orgasm still rippled through her.

Lucas looked at her out of the corners of his eyes, his lids closed into thin slits. She obviously wasn't aware of what impact it had had on him. Did she even remember saying it? Greg…! Cuddy was oblivious to his reaction, the angry way he clenched his jaw and wadded his hands into white knuckled fists. If she had looked at him she would see the fury in his eyes, the veins bulging at his temples, in his neck, arms, legs and feet because every muscle in his body was tensed, ready to spring his body into action at a moment's notice. She wasn't looking at him. She closed her blue eyes contentedly with no thought to his feelings whatsoever. It was his body that had made love to her, but in her mind she had fantasized about another man: Gregory House.

She had cancelled out every reassurance she had given him that she was over House, that there had never been anything between the diagnostician and her and that there never would be. Her promises that they would move forward together and leave House in the past were voided by a one-syllable word—or name—that was cried out in the throes of ecstasy.

She was soon asleep, snoring softly, completely spent. Cuddy was beautiful, Lucas acknowledged, beautiful but cold, towards him at least. Fleetingly Lucas thought about wrapping his fingers around her lovely neck and squeezing with every ounce of strength in his body, choking the life out of her. Her eyes would flash open in horror, staring up at her lover, her murderer. Her hands would claw at his and her face would turn to pink, to red, and to purple before settling on a deathly shade of blue. Her body would convulse, then twitch, her hands would fall away from his and her heart would beat its last. He would release his stranglehold and behold the work he had done with admiration. It would be a work of art, a masterpiece.

That is, of course, until she didn't show up for work the next day, and the next. Her phone would ring, the answering machine would pick up and record messages that she would never return. Friends and family would begin to panic. Someone would check her home for her and find the door locked. No one would answer. They would break the door down and step inside, calling out her name, going from room to room until they reached the bedroom and found her naked body laying on her bed, motionless and never to move of its own volition again, her lovely neck purple and black and crushed completely. He would be gone, and so would Rachel. No one would ever see or hear from them again. Would Greg House be the one to find her? Would he scream in anguish and pull her corpse into his arms weeping over it in misery? Would he figure out that she died because at an unfortunate moment his name had escaped her lips, condemning her? Would he spend the rest of his miserable life wallowing in guilt knowing that he was the one, in fact, who killed her without even knowing?

A smile slowly emerged on Lucas' face as he imagined the look on House's face, on everyone's faces. If only….

Lucas sighed and rolled out of bed, careful not to awaken sleeping beauty. He dressed and crept out of her room, closing the door. He knew he couldn't bring himself to personally wreak vengeance on her for her indiscretion. He loved her, after all.

No. He had something much more satisfying in mind and it involved his nemesis. House will suffer and because of his suffering, Cuddy will suffer, too. Lucas will punish her appropriately and then he will forgive her and she will be grateful for his mercy and they will end up very happy together. Why will he be so magnanimous? He loved a happy ending, that's why.

As he left he heard her telephone ring. He closed the front door behind him silently.

* * *

Gregory House watched with apprehension as Chloe reached into her purse and pulled out her cell phone.

"What are you doing?" he asked her apprehensively. He felt his heart fall into his stomach. She didn't really believe him. The pill convinced her that he was lying to her about not possessing the Oxycontin. She was going to turn him in.

He considered snatching the phone away from her before she could make a call. He could, alternately, take off as fast as a man with a gimp leg and a cane could run and try to hide from the cops when they descended on Chloe's yard and began hunting the dark spaces and bushes for him. He could….

His thoughts stopped short as she flipped the phone on, activating it. He felt as if he was going to have a heart attack.

"Shit," he said softly.

House readied himself to pounce but held back when he saw Chloe direct the light emanating from the LCD display onto the pill in her hand; she rolled the tablet around under the light. When she closed the phone again and stuck it back into her purse, he exhaled in relief and his body relaxed. She wasn't going to betray him after all.

She looked up at him with her big, beautiful eyes and smirked, shaking her head.

"This isn't Oxycontin," Chloe told him with certainty. "It's Percocet. Oxycontin is round and brown and imprinted with 'O-C' and '30'. This is blue and it says right on it 'Percocet'."

House looked at her in wonder. How did she know what Oxycontin 30 milligram tablets looked like? She would only know if she had seen them before. It was then that he remembered that she had nearly been killed and would have been prescribed painkillers during her convalescence.

"You're right," House told her. "It's still an opiate and Chase had it on his person. He was of excellent health and would have no need for pain relief, which means he was taking Percocet for the high. My drug of choice was Vicodin but in a pinch any opiate would do. Oxycontin is an excellent example." He reached to retrieve the pill from her but Chloe pocketed it instead.

"I'll just keep it," she told him knowingly in a soft and non-threatening tone.

House sighed, nodding. It had been hard to resist the urge to pop the tablet into his mouth as the pain in his leg increased during his walk. Just knowing that the Percocet was there had been both a strange kind of comfort and a powerful source of temptation. He knew that she believed him, so he wasn't offended by her keeping the pill.

"So," Chloe said, "Your theory is that Dr. Chase was not only self-medicating with alcohol but with drugs as well, hence the Percocet, and that he stole the Oxycontin when he had the opportunity to do so to feed his own needs. It's logical, I suppose. How do you know that he had the opportunity to do it?"

"I had sent him and Foreman to run some tests and make certain the lab got to processing them immediately," House told her. "That was before they were to go on a field trip for me. The lab and Pharmacy are on the same floor, and he would have been down there just before I went down to get a bottle of Aspirin for my headache. He had access, time, opportunity and motive. Since he didn't have the Oxycontin on him at the restaurant, it's highly likely he had it stored somewhere he was able to get to after he stole it and before he went with Foreman. I believe it's either in his locker at the hospital, where he would have stopped to grab his jacket before leaving on the assignment, or in his car, which is still parked in the restaurant parking lot."

"If it hasn't been towed," Chloe pointed out only to receive a negative shake of the head from the diagnostician.

"Unlikely. The bar and grill is still open as we speak so it wouldn't have been noticed as being out of place next to the other cars coming and leaving throughout the day."

Chloe took a deep breath through her nose and exhaled it through her mouth. House could see her processing the information in her lovely head. It was actually the first chance he had to notice her appearance since arriving. She wore her chocolate brown hair down now, and it flowed gracefully to just below her shoulders in loose, gentle curls, gracing her face like an expensive frame around a a portrait. She had changed from her blouse and skirt into a casual shirt he could see peeking above the neckline of her jacket and a pair of dark straight-legged jeans that hugged her hips in the most delightful way. Sneakers finished the look. He marveled at how she could make anything look sexy.

"So I'm guessing that you want to check out whether your theory is correct," Chloe concluded, "and once you've found the Oxycontin in Chase's locker or car, then let everyone come and see for themselves, Oui?"

He smirked with amusement, "Oui."

"And you are here to elicit my help in doing it because you knew you could trust me," Chloe concluded. "Why can you not call James and propose the same thing to him?"

House sighed, looking down at his feet and then back to her, "I want to be certain I haven't made any mistakes before I want to draw him into it."

Chloe nodded, obviously expecting the explanation he gave her. She forced him to look her in the eye as she said, "As long as it is not illegal or immoral I will help you."

House winced and asked, "How illegal are we talking--misdemeanor illegal or felony illegal?"

She glared at him in warning. "Greg…."

"I'll do the illegal part," he assured her quickly. "You only have to help me get there and be a lookout."

Chloe gave him a suspicious frown. "Isn't that called 'aiding and abetting'?"

House shrugged in feigned ignorance. "I don't know. I'm a doctor, not a lawyer. Will you do it?" Please? He added under his breath. The expression on her face was soft and pensive. He sensed that she wanted to help him but her moral compass was getting in the way. If she could find some way to appease her conscience, he knew she would agree.

It took her an intolerably long time to give him an answer. When she did, it was with a crooked half-smile and a condition attached.

"I'll only do it if you agree to call James and let him know that you are alright," Chloe told him firmly. "He needs to know that you are alive and sober, Greg; he is angry at you right now but he is also very worried. That way he will be able to call off the search and the fact that you were responsible enough to call him will only work in your favor. I will vouch for you if necessary, but you must be the one to talk to him. Those are my conditions. Take it or leave it."

She had the fire in her eyes and her jaw was set. House loved it. She was adorable and he wanted her so badly.

"Deal," he agreed, rolling his eyes in mock-disdain and then smirking with amusement. She couldn't resist giving him a small smile. She took out her cell phone again and dialed Wilson's number before handing it over to him. Reluctantly he raised it to his ear. It was answered almost immediately.

"Hello, Chloe?" Wilson's voice came across sounding panicked. Ah, Wilson, House thought ruefully, you need to learn to relax.

"She's got a nicer ass," House said in response, waiting for Chloe to react. If she was blushing he couldn't tell but the look of reproach she gave him was good enough.

"House!" Wilson nearly shouted. "What are you doing on Chloe's phone? Are you alright?"

House rolled his eyes. "I'm on her phone because she handed it to me and if I were dead, talking would be a little difficult. Are we playing a game or are you just fond of engaging your mouth before your brain?"

"You're okay," Wilson agreed wearily. "Where are you? Is Chloe there with you?"

The diagnostician exhaled impatiently. "I must have hit you harder than I thought. How about I hang up and you can call me back when you're conscious?" he retorted snarkily.

"I've been worried sick!" Wilson told him reproachfully. "I called Nolan and the police. There's a search out for you right now, did you know that?"

"Aw, and I thought you didn't care."

Chloe cleared her throat loudly and gave House a 'quit screwing around and get to the point' look. House wondered if she knew how beautiful she was when she was angry. Make-up sex with her had to be fun, he decided.

"Chloe insisted I call you to assure you that I'm safe and sober," House said into the phone obligingly. He looked to Chloe for approval like a puppy to its master. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth but she didn't give him anything more. "I was all along," he added in frustration.

"And punching me was a sign of sober rationality," Wilson retorted sarcastically. "I can't believe I didn't see that."

House looked at Chloe again and pointed to the phone, pouting. "See, Mom, I told you he wouldn't believe me."

She rolled her eyes and held her hand out. "Give me the phone," she ordered.

"Now you've done it, you've made her mad," House taunted into the phone before she snatched it away from him.

"Hello?" Wilson could be heard saying as the device changed hands. Chloe put the phone to her ear. House smiled with self-satisfaction. He could only hear half of the conversation but was able to piece it together fairly well.

"Hello, James, it's Chloe…Yes, I'm fine…no, I was on my way out the door on my way to your place when he showed…Well, he's in some pain from his leg…what? Oh, no, no I think he will be fine once he puts it up with a heating pad…James, I was a clinical psychologist before I went to seminary and I know what to look for. Greg is not using and I believe he genuinely is innocent of taking those drugs…True, but he wasn't the only person in the area when the meds went missing and it's not even known where it was between Pharmacy and the unit that the Oxycontin went missing…yes, he was. He told me that he was down there to obtain some aspirin because of his pain…no, I do not think that is a fair assumption…James," Chloe paused, sighing, "We all have made mistakes in the past, haven't we?...that's correct, but just because we did something in the past doesn't mean that we are doomed to repeat it…He does not have the Oxycontin on him, James. I am convinced that he has not relapsed…yes, well," Chloe said, looking at House pointedly, "I'm certain that he is very sorry for hitting you."

House's eyes looked upward and he shrugged noncommittally like a recalcitrant little boy.

"…Well, I believe you can tell Dr. Nolan that everything is under control and that Greg will be contacting him personally…oh, right now…or he'll be recalled? I see."

Shaking his head, House knew that the next call would be to his shrink, unless he wanted to be readmitted to Mayfield. Thanks, Wilson.

"Well, he has a theory about that," Chloe said into the phone. House alerted, shaking his head. He began to wave her off, mouthing the word 'no' to her emphatically, "but he doesn't want to share it until he can prove it…but that's the point. You didn't take his word for it when he denied having the drugs, so why should he believe that you will believe him when he tells you who he thinks did take them?...Yes, and that's why he wants to prove it first…I believe he does trust you, James. The problem is, he doesn't feel that you trust him…you can demonstrate it by taking his word for something until it is proven that you can't…yes, that's it exactly…mmhmm…yes, innocent until proven guilty instead of the other way around…well, he feels that the situation has got to the point that he has to prove it now…I know that, James…I know you do and Greg knows you do, but if you expect him to be a new man, you have to put away your old doubts and start from scratch, and that means trusting him…Alright, yes, and remember to contact the police? I promise that I won't allow him to get into trouble…Alright, one moment."

Chloe held the phone out to House and whispered, "Remember, Greg. Trust must go both ways."

The diagnostician looked at her and nodded. He took the phone.

"I don't know what she told you," House said, "but Chloe and I are eloping and there's nothing you can say to stop us. It's over between you and me, remember? My shoes aren't big enough? Does that ring a bell?"

"House, I overreacted," Wilson admitted. "If you say you're innocent then…I believe you."

"No you don't," House said, rejecting his statement. "Then again, I haven't always given you good reason to."

"So let me help you prove it," the oncologist insisted. "I owe you that much."

The diagnostician looked down at Chloe. He covered the mouthpiece to speak with her privately. "How did you do that? He wants to help me prove my innocence. An hour ago he was acting like a prosecutor."

Chloe shrugged. "Prayer helps. Trust him."

House said into the phone, "Chloe and I are heading to the hospital, but we have to make a pit stop first. I'll meet you in my office in about thirty."

"You got it," Wilson agreed. "I need to have my jaw x-rayed anyway."

"Oh, and Wilson?"House added.

"Yes, House?"

"Chloe wants me to ask you to stand up for us…the flight leaves for Vegas in two hours."

The chaplain back-handed him in the stomach hard enough to knock some wind out of him.

"Did Chloe just hit you?" Wilson asked.

"Yeah," House replied, glaring at her in annoyance and rubbing his abdomen.

"Good," the oncologist told him without sympathy and hung up.

House flipped the phone closed and handed it back to its owner.

"Did I do good?" the diagnostician asked Chloe, a twisted smirk on his face. House really did want her to say yes. She stared at him in disbelief and for a moment House thought she was going to start yelling at him—that is, until she couldn't restrain herself any longer and began to chuckle softly.

"Did your mother actually survive your childhood?" Chloe asked him curiously.

House grinned proudly. "You'll have to meet her someday and swap stories."

Chloe looked away bashfully at that comment. House realized the implication of what he had just said; he wasn't exactly certain why, but he wasn't sorry. If he had his way, it was a distinct possibility.

"James said that Nolan wants you to call him immediately," Chloe advised him. "He said it has something to do with your safety contract? This is Dr. Nolan, your psychiatrist, oui?"

"Yes," he told her, pretending to be unconcerned, "I'll call him on our way."

Chloe looked at him doubtfully. "Where is this pit stop you mentioned to James?"

"'Elementary, my dear Dr. LaSalle'," House said and smirked, amusing himself, "To Connolly's Bar and Grill, of course!"