He needed to think, no scratch that he needed a drink, make that a lot of drinks. And if he didn't have a case he would probably have sped to the nearest bar and put his face under the tap and sucked it dry. Sh-t! He needed to focus on the patient. But he couldn't there was one word repeating itself in his head, F_CK! A few more choice words followed aimed at himself. What the hell had he been thinking? He hadn't been.

It was Peyton that saved the day. She had burst into his office with an epiphany of her own before the brain biopsy order had even been completed. Tests confirmed her diagnosis and as soon as he read the results he had grabbed his coat and limped out the door without uttering a single word. The team had all looked back and forth from one another baffled.

He made it to the nearest bar and that was about all he could remember of his evening. He couldn't even remember how he got home. He woke up the next morning, his head splitting, he was in the same clothes from the night before and was still wearing his motorcycle jacket. He hadn't even made it as far as the bedroom; he was hanging halfway off the couch.

Later that Morning

Cuddy glanced from the nurse's station into to what was supposed to be her empty office. Even though her office was dark, inside she could see the outline of a man sitting across from her desk. The silhouette of a cane being twirled in his right hand left no guess as to who it was.

She was in no mood to deal with him today. She didn't exactly have the best morning and being that he was the primary cause of it, he wasn't exactly her favorite person right now. She would have liked nothing more than to slink away before he saw her and leave him sitting there.

"Great, exactly what I need today." She mumbled under her breath to the nurse catching her gaze.

She pushed through the double doors of her office bracing herself for the yelling that was sure to come.

"What is it House, I'm busy…" She stated rounding her desk and taking off her coat. "In case you hadn't noticed the waiting room is full and I have to…"

"You're Pregnant!" He interrupted not bothering to look up. His gaze fixed on his cane now bouncing in his hand.

Her mouth dropped and she stared in disbelief. Her eyes wide and with a shocked expression she tried to question " How. I…" But nothing else came out.

There was an awkward silence as she slumped into her chair losing the vigor that she had walked in with.

"I assume that's a yes..." He broke the silence as he rubbed his thumb across his brow still not meeting her eyes. "Were you planning on telling me, am I right to assume that I have a right to know?" He didn't finish

"I just tested this morning, and yes." Her voice was shaken and barely above a whisper.

His eyes finally met hers but they were absent of the fear or anger she had expected. Instead his face was cold and void of emotion. He nodded and lifted himself up leaning on his cane and turned to leave. She tried to call after him but in truth she didn't know what to say. He exited without either saying a word or bothering to look back. She had expected him not to take it well but for House to walk out without a fight was scaring her. She needed him to react, to be upset, or scared or anything because she was.

Earlier That Same Morning.

She looked at the clock and nervously walked back to the bathroom. She felt little beads of sweat break out across her forehead as she wiped her sweaty palms slowly down her cotton pajama pants. She hovered in the doorway for a moment, anxious and scared. She bit her lip. This is ridiculous she thought, Just look! She went straight to the side of her tub and sat down. Pulling the little white stick from the back of the toilet, she stared in disbelief. To her surprise her first reaction was one of overwhelming joy. She cupped her hand over her mouth barely able to contain herself. Her eyes watered with tears as she looked down at the two very distinct pink lines. Then the reality hit her. Her thoughts scattered in a million directions as her hidden smile was replaced with terror. The feeling of House, holding her waist and pounding into her came rushing back. The image of him, eyes closed and her breast in his mouth flashed in her head. SH!T. This was not happening.

Why hadn't he stopped her? Why had she thrown herself at him? She didn't know whether to be mad at him or herself for letting it happen. It occurred to her that she was going to have to tell him. She felt her chest constrict and suddenly she couldn't breathe. What the hell was she going to do? She couldn't picture him wanting to have anything to do with it. She wanted to bury her face in her hands and cry. She wanted to go in her room and crawl under the covers and pretend this wasn't happening but the grandfather clock in her dining room chimed and that meant she was going to be late if she didn't pick herself up and put herself together.

Back to the present

She remained slumped in her chair paralyzed staring off in the distance, not really focusing on anything. She was utterly and completely filled with a level of fear that she had never experienced before. Leave it to him to figure it out before she had, but that meant he had been thinking about it. He'd had more time than her to digest it and yet he walked out like he wasn't even fazed. She had just witnessed him calmly leave as if they had just chatted about the weather and there was nothing at all odd about the fact that in 8 months she was going to pop out his kid.

She jumped at the sound of her door opening. It was Nurse Brenda. She pushed the door open a bit and poked her head in.

"Need you." She looked at Cuddy, "Are you okay?" She had a look of concern.

Cuddy quickly sat straight up, "I'm fine, just a little tired." She got up and followed Nurse Brenda out into the clinic.

Her day had given her enough fires to put out that she had been able to shove her little problem to the back of her mind for long enough to fight them. She'd managed to solve a shipping problem in the pharmacy, get an urgent memo out regarding the new fire alarm going off on the fourth floor and get an irate donor back to writing checks after he had been mistaken for an Alzheimer's patient by Dr. Hammond, who had treated him like a child trying to lead him into his office. By late afternoon she had finally managed a few moments to herself and decided she couldn't put it off, she had to talk to House.

He was sitting at his desk, feet propped up with his eyes fixed to his television when she found him. His hand was playing with his bottom lip and he seemed to be intently interested in whatever he was watching. He looked up as she entered, he barely acknowledged her before staring again at the TV.

"I need to know how you feel about this." She said sitting across from him.

He just looked at her and didn't say anything.

"I need you to react."

He gave her a look of understanding and used his foot to turn off the TV, turning to face her with his full attention. He leaned both elbows on the desk and looked a little uncomfortable like he was trying to figure out what to say.

"I guess I don't have to ask if you're keeping it." He said trying to find something other than her to look at.

This time she didn't say anything.

He combed his face with his hand, "Shouldn't we wait until you make it to 12 weeks before we start worrying about anything. I mean there is always the possibility that..." He couldn't say it.

She felt as if he had just stabbed her, "Are you saying you're waiting for me to miscarry. You're hoping it'll just die and go away."

"Ohh god," He rolled his eyes and looked away irritated, "That's not what I said, I just meant that it's not like the thing is going to come sliding out of your hoo hoo any minute. You've got 8 months to over analyze me and every thought I might have about it."

"Are you saying that you're going to be.."

"Stop! Don't. I don't know what you want me to say. I can't wrap this up in a neat little package and give it to you with the perfect bow. I never wanted kids, and I certainly can't picture myself as a father. I can't be what you want and I can't tell you what you want to hear. I can't make promises right now. Stop trying to look to me because I'm just as mentally f-cked up about this as you are." She looked across the desk at him. He could see the tears starting to well up in her eyes.

"Look, I'm not saying anything here so don't go all to pieces on me. It's not like I'm running off to Africa, I work here, I'm here everyday. There'll be more time to figure things out. I just can't have a conversation about it right now. I need more time to digest it."

She still had tears in her eyes but she looked at him as if she understood. She nodded and realized he was handling it about as well as she was. It made her even more nervous to see him so unsettled, but there was some comfort knowing that he hadn't told her to leave him out of it.

He stood up and grabbed his coat from the back of the chair, grabbed his cane that was leaning on the desk and picked his wallet and keys up, placing the wallet in his back pocket.

" Now, If you don't mind I have to go see a man about a beer." He said it not in his usual sarcastic tone but one in which he was letting her know that he was upset and he needed to get away from things right now. She understood that. She nodded and he held his arm out to the door. She got up and he led her out of the office with his hand gently placed on the small of her back.