All I have to say is "baby steps". Oh and leave me tons of reviews because I didn't make you wait a week. :P Oh and the song is "One Step At A Time" by Jordin Sparks.

It was just after dawn when House awoke to find Cuddy with her head on his chest, still asleep. He resisted the urge the push her off. She was too close for his liking, yet he didn't want to be cruel either. She'd slept soundlessly the entire night, and pushing her off of him would surely wake her. He felt an excruciating pain in his right leg and reached for the bottle of pills beside him. He poured two into his hand and looked down at them. Those pills were what had caused all of this in the first place. He hated them almost as much as he hated himself for letting this happen. He looked down at the woman beside him. Where the pills worth losing her again? He put the pills back into the bottle, and threw it in the trash.

Cuddy awoke to find herself nestled against House's chest. Embarrassed she raised her head, hoping to find him still asleep.

"I didn't know you could sleep so long.."

"Sorry." She replied blushing a bit as she distanced herself from him.

"What did I tell you about apologizing over nothing?"

"So- okay." She said catching herself as she stood, stretching.

"What time is it?"

"Noon."

"How's the pain?"

"I'm fine."

"Are you sure? I could up your morphine..."

"I'm fine Cuddy."

"Okay.. I'm going to go freshen up and get something to eat.. You want anything from the cafe?"

"Reuben,"

"No pickles." She finished for him, smiling as he looked at her in wonder.

"Your attending says you can go home tomorrow." Cuddy said as she reentered the room, laden with food from the cafeteria.

House nodded his thanks when she handed him his sandwich and a bottle of coke. He smirked, at her lunch. It was a salad, like usual.

"Do you eat anything other than salad?"

"Of course I do. I made pasta that one time..."

"So your diet consists of only pasta and salad? Christ Cuddy. Eat a quart of ice cream or something. You're too skinny. You've lost a lot of weight."

"And you're a drug addict. We've all got our problems."

He wanted to tell her how he was going off of the drugs but decided against it. He wanted to see if this second chance came with any requests. If she really wanted to give him the chance if he was still on drugs.

"Do you want me to take you home tomorrow? You don't have any other way to get home seeing as Wilson's out of town.."

"Cuddy."

"What?"

"You're trying too hard. I need some space if we're going to try this again. You can get all clingy later. Right now it's irritating."

He watched her process what he had said, felt bad as she frowned. Maybe he was wrong. She did need him as much as he needed her. But clinging wasn't going to help the cause. Yes, she was worried about him, he knew that, but she didn't need to fuss so much over him. It made him uncomfortable. Their relationship was fragile. She was always like this when he was hospitalized but this time it was too much. It made him feel like an asshole for not being able to be there for her the one time she needed him.

"I'm going to go.. I'll be back tomorrow.." Cuddy said standing.

He let her go, knowing that she needed time to process what he had just said. He hadn't officially told her he was taking her chance until now.

He was going to take her chance. He needed some space first, but none the less he was taking her chance. Getting into her car, she smiled. She didn't care how long it took. She was happy just to know that they would get back on track some day. Hopefully soon, but if it took a while, she would be okay with that.

House went home the next day. Reluctantly he had allowed Cuddy to help him settle in a home.

"Call if you need anything." She said as she helped him onto his bed.

"Will do.." He replied, intent on calling Wilson should he need anything.

"I'll see you when you come back to work.." Cuddy said softly.

"Okay."

He watched her leave, before turning on the TV. Miraculously his leg was healing well, and even though the screws would be there for the rest of his most likely to be miserable life, he had a tiny bit of hope that it'd function properly, and not become stiff when it fully healed. He was grateful to have two weeks of medical leave due to his injury. It would give him the perfect amount of time to detox from the Vicodin without anyone realizing it. He had no intention of letting anyone, not even Wilson know what he was up to.

This was his final shot to make things right. He wanted to make it with Cuddy in the long run. They were nearing what would have been their one year anniversary and the thought that they had almost made it a year made him nauseous. They could have made it past that. He needed to stop being so self destructive when things that were beyond his control went wrong. He needed to learn that no matter what, the things he did would also effect not only himself, but those around him. He was going to take one step at a time. He needed to deal with the Vicodin, only then could he try to mend his relationship with Cuddy.

Only then would he be able to get things back on track.

The conference had lasted a little over three days. When Wilson got home he was surprised to find several voicemails from a distressed Cuddy.

"Hey, it's me. I just got your messages, I felt forgot my phone here. What's up?"

"I'm worried about him Wilson. No one's heard from him since he was discharged and I took him home on Saturday.. His entire team has been calling and no response. Masters has even stopped by and he hasn't answered the door. I haven't called because.. Well because he asked me to give him some space.. We're going to give it another shot.. But he needs some space first. I don't want to call him, but I honestly don't know how much longer I can hold out..."

"I'll call him. I'll let you know okay? Stop freaking out, this is House we're talking about.. He's probably just on passed out on his couch or watching Real Housewives.."

He hung up and dialed House's number. It rang for over five minutes before he hung up. He waited a while before calling again, to no response. He sighed and grabbed his keys, intent on finding out what the hell was going on.

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