Author's Note: Just think of this as a bonus chapter – hence the shortness and complete pointlessness to it! Just something that spewed out of my head about 20mins ago…and it probably shows! Nonetheless, enjoy…
Cuddy stretched out, exhausted, on House's couch, keeping her injured wrist close to her body, protectively; she'd helped herself to a couple of his anti inflammatories earlier, she deserved it after all.
Despite being up all night, she was finding it extremely difficult to find sleep in such unfamiliar surroundings; it didn't help that every five seconds she could hear House burst into a fit of painful coughing. 'That's gotta hurt' she sympathised.
She was just beginning to doze when she heard the unmistakable sound of the limping man making his way across the hall, followed by the sound of the toilet seat being banged loudly against the cistern as it was lifted by a sleep-induced, clumsy hand. 'No doubt you'll be blamed for this late night toilet break' she thought, remembering the glass of water she'd dropped off earlier on.
It was coming up to almost 6am; if she didn't drift off soon, she'd find that daylight would confuse her senses and never let her get any rest. But she hadn't heard the toilet flush yet and it was bugging her; she found it extremely improbable to think that House wouldn't flush it for fear of disturbing her. If anything, he'd flush it just so the noise would wake her she thought, shaking her head in wonderment.
So, she waited, almost holding her breath, for signs of him returning to bed; after about ten minutes of straining her hearing, wondering if maybe he'd already limped back without her knowledge, she decided to investigate.
She wrapped the thin sheet, that was being used to cover the couch, around her body in an attempt to cover herself up; she'd been forced to sleep in just a t shirt and her underwear because she'd felt too embarrassed about asking House for some nightwear. No doubt he'd pull out something that even Betty Boop would feel self conscious in; although why he'd have women's underwear in his apartment was beyond her.
Shivering as she made her way down the dark hallway in her bare feet, she noted that the bathroom light was still on and the door was only pushed to, not completely closed.
"House?" she said softly as she knocked on the wooden door, inadvertently pushing it far enough open to see that her 'patient' was currently perched on the rim of the bathtub. "Everything okay?" she asked warily as she took in his flushed appearance and the sheen of sweat on the back of his neck.
He jumped at the question, apparently not realising that he had company in the small room; he had been bent almost double, his arms cradling his lower rib section and his chin resting on his chest. "Couldn't sleep, stupid cough" he rasped in reply, sounding very worse for wear; she assumed, from the tears and redness in his eyes, that he'd been trying to forcibly stop himself from coughing for the past ten minutes, probably making himself feel worse.
"Okay…any reason why you're in here and not in bed?" she enquired tentatively, he certainly looked tired, even if he said he couldn't get any sleep; bed would be good - she didn't particularly want him to fall in the tub and then have to drag him out of there herself, it would be impossible.
"Needed to pee" he croaked as he pointed to the toilet; "take a look" strange request…
"Urgh!" Cuddy exclaimed as she caught sight of the red stained water; "That's a 'yes' on Renal Trauma then" she concluded, flushing the offending liquid away. "You ready to get back to bed now?" she pressed, hoping that he was fit enough to make it unaided.
House nodded in reply and used the hand basin to drag himself up, cursing as his vision blacked out for a second; he blamed the combination of dehydration and severe pain for the sudden overload.
Cuddy couldn't help herself and went into her superhero mode again, grabbing his arm with her good hand in an attempt to stabilize him; he cracked an eye open to regard her as he said "you might not want to do that – considering what happened last time"
"So go to bed – and stop putting us both at risk" she said, feeling a burning heat radiating off of his bare arm. "You're hot"
"I know" he replied with a shadow of a grin on his face as he pulled away from her and stumbled out of the bathroom.
"You remembered to take the antibiotic, didn't you?" she asked, following him closely; the last thing he needed was an infection from possible internal issues.
House rolled his eyes as he gingerly settled himself back on the bed, picking up the packet of hospital prescribed antibiotics; he made a show of pulling the inner packet out to show his boss that he'd taken his dose, just like a magician pulling a rabbit out of a hat.
"Sore throat, hacking cough and fever-" Cuddy began.
"All brought on by sitting around in just a towel and t shirt; I don't even need to be a doctor to tell you that I've got a cold" House interjected miserably as he limped painfully over to the window and threw it open; he pulled a face at the birds that were daring to sing just outside, didn't they know he was ill?
"House! Close the window – its freezing! Do you want to die of hypothermia?" Cuddy whined in disbelief as she watched him pitifully pull the covers off the bed, choosing to sleep on top of the sheet without them. She could distinctly see the outline of sweat on his t shirt starting to spread further down his back as he painfully climbed into bed, the bathroom exertion clearly taking more out of him than he'd readily admit.
"Cuddy, get out" came the late, weak reply as he did his best to get back to that comfortable half-sitting, half-laying position he'd found earlier; talking was too much of an effort, so trying to explain that he felt like he was being internally roasted definitely wasn't on the agenda. Sleep was.
Cuddy backed out of the door, not wanting to annoy her surprisingly lucid patient; 'I'll sneak back in when he's asleep – make sure he doesn't catch pneumonia' she decided as she settled herself back on the couch.
'He's been very well behaved so far; no need to intentionally provoke aggravation by 'mothering' him…or treating him like an idiot.' her mind wandered as she listened through the gentle sounds of birds and early morning traffic, for the sound of snoring; it didn't take long before she drifted off herself, forgetting the plan she'd made to ensure House didn't catch pneumonia…or worse.