Chapter 10: Photograph

House continued to stare at the file in utmost confusion. How could've he over-looked that? His hands trembled against the file as he remembered the young Cuddy walking down the hallway with tear stained eyes. He looked at Wilson who opened and closed his mouth with no words coming out.

"Stop that, Wilson," House said, dropping the file into Wilson's grasp. "You look like a fish who's on the verge of death."

Wilson stopped and saw that his friend was leaving the room. He didn't need to ask where he was going. It seemed obvious anyway.

House kept his eye out for Cuddy around the hospital, she wasn't in sight. He grumbled as he checked her office. Nope, not there. House scanned his surroundings and checked his watch. Midday, maybe she went to the cafeteria.

Down in the cafeteria, he saw Cameron sitting at the table with Chase and Foreman. Boy, did they look bored as hell. He walked up to them and tapped his cane against the table which caused a drink to fall over.

"House…!" Foreman exclaimed as he cleaned up his drink's mess and glared at his boss. "What are you doing?"

"Seen Cuddy?" The three looked at each other and then at House.

"She signed out not too long ago." Chase said, munching on a sandwich. "Said she wasn't feeling too well."

House looked around and then at the three again. "Seen Vogler?"

"I have no idea where he went," Foreman said as he looked at Cameron and Chase who nodded in agreement. "Rumour has it that he quit."

House raised his eyebrows. Did he really scare the shit out of that guy? He shook his head and left the three to eat their lunch. Foreman tossed his empty drink that House bumped, into the bin.

House slammed the door to his Corvette and headed towards an apartment. He found the door unlocked to the room he was looking for and walked in without knocking.

"Oh, House." Vogler's head popped up from the kitchen. "May I ask why you're here?"

"Judging from how crappy your apartment looks," House's cane pushed over piles of cans. "You lost a bit of money, didn't you?"

Vogler sighed. "Again, why are you here?"

"Rumours say you quit." House said as he walked closer to Vogler. "I wanted to see if it was true or not."

Vogler nodded and said yes as House rummaged through his bathroom cabinet.

"Hey, stay out of there!" Vogler exclaimed but stopped as House found a pill bottle.

"Anti-depressants, huh?" House said as he rattled the pill bottle. Barely used. "Did you get depressed because Daddy didn't remember you anymore?"

"Leave." Vogler glares at House. "Now."

"Oh, c'mon," House said as he walked to Vogler. "Don't get so worked up over such a little thing."

Vogler snatched the pill bottle from House and put it back.

"Oh, and would such a little thing be watching a patient die…," Vogler said as he exited the bathroom and stared at House's back that froze. "…of a brain tumour when you could've done something to prevent it?"

"…How'd you know…?" House said, quietly as he faced Vogler. His blue eyes throwing daggers.

"It just suddenly made me curious that you had one patient that you treated at the hospital and,…you didn't break any rules." Vogler explained.

"There wasn't any rules to break," House muttered, gripping onto his cane.

"Ah, … but you could've tried to shrink her tumour with medicine, gave her more time to live, " Vogler said, slyly. "Oh yes, you weren't exactly the rule-breaking type back then, were you?"

House glared at Vogler and lunged at him. Before Vogler could react, a fist connected to his face. Vogler staggered, held his cheek and looked at House who towered over him.

"If… I could do it again," House said, angrily. "I'd do those things, I'd do them over and over again! I don't need someone like you reminding me of how much I've fucked up back then!"

He raised his fist until he saw Vogler cower away in fear. House lowered his fist and raised an eyebrow at Vogler.

"Sorry," Vogler said, his face full of guilt. "I shouldn't have said that. I won't bother you anymore."

And with that, House felt satisfied and walked out. He stopped at the door.

"Hey, Mr. Empty Money Bags," House said as he twisted the door knob. "Get a new door knob."

House sat in his Corvette and started the engine. Time to see another person.

He stopped outside someone's apartment and knocked on the door with his cane.

"Yes, what do yo-" Cuddy didn't think she'd see House.

"I want to talk to you." House stared as she nodded and let House in. House turned to look at her as she closed to door.

"What is it?" Cuddy asked, folding her arms.

"I've noticed… you don't really smile much, do you?" House asked Cuddy who looked at him and her stern expression softened.

"I do smile," Cuddy said, walking past House into the kitchen. "It's just… today… isn't a good day for me."

"Who doesn't get bad days?" House asked as he followed her into the kitchen.

"Its not like that," House raised an eyebrow. Now he was dead curious as to what's up.

"It's the anniversary of my sister's death." Cuddy whispered. That hit House in the cold heart, making it crack. "Anyway, you wanted to talk to me about something?"

"Well, yeah," House said, not know how to start. "I was treating a patient ages ago and it was aaages ago, like a million years ago. I met her before she was in the

hospital and she was looking at medical books. She was nice, and had this warm smile that would light up the gloomiest room… and she…"

"House, you're sugar coating what you're saying." Cuddy looked worried. "You never sugar coat things, you usually say it directly and bluntly."

"Uh, okay, if you want it blunt, I'll say give it blunt." House muttered as he leaned against her fridge. "I treated your sister in the hospital."

Cuddy's eyes widen in horror. She blinked several times, not knowing whether to scream or cry.

"I… tried to fix her," House said but trailed off as he saw Cuddy's blank expression. "Yeah, Wilson and me were like that too when we found out."

There was an awkward silence as Cuddy sat down on the couch, unable to wrap her head around it. House decided to sit down too.

"S-so you knew Kate?" Cuddy managed to ask House who looked at her.

"Yeah, a little too much. Guess you could say I got attached to her." House mumbled as he swung his cane around.

"But you never get attached to people." Cuddy replied.

"Before the leg thing and your sister, I'm not attached to people now," House said, still spinning the cane around.

"Wh-what… did Kate pass… peacefully?" Cuddy tried to say, tears dropping down her cheeks at the sweet memories of her sister.

"…Good question," House muttered, he stopped spinning the cane. "I was researching to find treatments for your sister and got the page… and.. I was too late…"

Cuddy looked at House, completely devastated.

"She died alone?" She gasped. "You weren't with her the whole time?!"

"I was trying to do my damn job," House grabbed Cuddy's arm and drew her close. His expression went from stern to almost heartbreakingly sad as he let go of Cuddy. "If I could, I would've been with her the whole time."

Cuddy was stumped, she'd never seen House look so incredibly sad before. Sure, there were times he looked miserable but not so miserable that he'd hang himself with his own cane.

"House,… have you been blaming yourself for Kate's death?" Cuddy asked, almost desperately.

House avoided eye contact with Cuddy. She closed her eyes, thinking Oh god,… all these years, he's been beating himself up about Kate?

House shuffled in his seat, he didn't like the topic now.

"Hm, think I could get more Vicodin?" House asked, out of the blue.

"Do you get high to numb yourself about Kate, House?" Damn, shouldn't have asked about Vicodin, House.

House stared at Cuddy, the slightest movement, eye contact, anything could give it away.

"You should be a fucking detective, Cuddy," House responded and stood up.

"House!" Cuddy's hand latched onto House's arm and locked there. "…please…"

He peered over his shoulder, looking at Cuddy.

"I moped about the leg… and yeah, most of it was your sister." He said, with no emotion in his voice.

Cuddy's eyes looked at House's, then everything clicked. Why he doesn't see patients, acts cold, breaks any rule possible to save the patient , his strong desire to solve the illness and find any treatment possible. It all made fucking sense. Her sister's death practically moulded House's character. Made him who he is today.

House yanked his arm free and headed to the door. Cuddy didn't stop him, she was too overwhelmed to realize he had left her apartment. He headed back to his office at the hospital and slumped in his chair after tossing his cane against the desk.

He paused for a moment, that scene in Cuddy's apartment flashing through his mind over and over again. Reaching for his desk, he pulled a drawer out, rummaged through it and recovered a photograph. He looked around his office, making sure the coast was clear.

It was a picture of Kate and him, with the big grins on their faces.

House remembered the time during the photo was taken…

And smiled.