A/N: Sorry this took so long! I should actually be doing homework right now instead of writing this, but whatever. I hope you enjoy it!

Disclaimer: see chapter one


Cuddy watched in silence as her father leaned farther into his bed. The lines in his face seemed to soften as he let out a deep sigh and close his eyes.

Flashback:

Lisa had long since fallen into a peaceful slumber stretched out over her father's lap, his arms cradling over her protectively. The television flared different hues of blue over the darkness of the living room. Mike had set the television on mute after realizing that his daughter had drifted off to sleep and now sat silently looking lovingly down at his daughter. The only thing left in his life that held any meaning to him.

He stood up slowly, careful not to wake Lisa, and repositioned her on the couch. He walked up to the television and turned it off. It had been a long day for all of them and they both needed their sleep. He walked back over to Lisa and picked her up gently. He carried her back to her room and tucked her in. Kissing her on her forehead he whispered, 'I love you', and left the room, shutting the door on his way out.

As much as he needed his sleep, his thoughts wouldn't leave him alone. So he grabbed his coat and headed out the door, being sure to lock it on his way out. That night was the longest of his life. He had opted to walk instead of drive and eventually found himself in a familiar park. Memories of a young couple in love sitting on the bench close to each other watching their little girl play with other children filled his mind. He shook his head of happier times and he was once again looking over an empty park. He continued walking, not quite sure of where he was going when he caught sight of a bar across the street.

The smell of alcohol and smoke filled his nostrils along with the sounds of glasses and mugs being filled to the rim with beer and the mumbling of voices, some happy-possibly celebrating something, others filled with self pity or any other form of depression. Mike had always been good at reading people. He took a seat next to a middle aged looking man. He noticed the tan line around his left ring finger and assumed that he must have recently gone threw a divorce. On the other side of him was a real rough looking man, drinking the cheapest beer in the place, wearing wrinkled clothes and not smelling too pleasant. He was either homeless or in the process of losing his home. But what really caught his attention was a familiar looking man in a booth on the other side of the bar. Curiosity got the better of him and he left his current seat to occupy one closer to the familiar face and who he assumed was the man's friend. Mike was now seated in the booth behind the man and could not see him without turning around- and didn't want to look suspicious by doing so, so he simply listened in on the table's conversation.

The voice was unmistakable. The same one he would remember until the end of his days. It was his wife's doctor. He strained his ears even harder now to listen over the commotion of the busy bar.

'It's not your fault,' another voice entered Mike's ears, presumably the doctor's friend, 'It happens, you're a doctor you know that.'

'But I-'

'Stop wallowing in self pity. Yeah, it's a shame she died, but you can't save everyone. Especially in your specialty.' It was quiet for a moment and Mike was becoming restless at the silence. He really wished he could see what was happening.

'Put that down, you've had enough.' there was the sound of a glass hitting the table. 'Are you going to blame yourself every time you lose a patient? Because I'm not going to be here every time that happens to tell you it's not your fault. You have to learn to just forgive yourself and move on. People die. It comes with the job. If you want to have a little pity party then you can blame yourself for choosing the profession that you did.' There was silence again and the sound of leather cracking as someone got up from the seat.

'That's not it!' after a brief pause the person sat back down and the conversation continued. 'You don't understand! It Was my fault! …I…

Mike leaned forward in his seat awaiting the doctor's next words. His fingers were clutching the table in front of him so hard in anticipation that his knuckles were turning white.

'I wasn't paying attention and I gave her the wrong medication and now she's dead and it's all my fault and if I could go back I would change it but I can't and now her family-' he said in all one breath, but was cut off by his friend.

'Whoa, calm down! What are you talking about?' before he could get his answer the conversation was interrupted by Mike reaching down and grabbing the doctor by his shirt collar and pulled him up roughly, slamming him down on the table. The doctor's friend jumped up in surprise and tried to pull Mike off of his friend. 'You bastard!' roared Mike as he slammed his fist into the doctor's face repeatedly. The rest was a blur to Mike and before he knew it he was being thrown out of the bar and back into the dark and lonely streets.

'Daddy.' a small voice startled Mike as he shut the front door to his house and locked it.

'Sweetheart,' he replied softly, 'what are doing out of bed?' he walked over to his daughter and knelt down to her level.

'Where did you go?' she asked worriedly.

'Daddy had some things he needed to take care of. 'Come on,' he said, 'let's go back to bed.' he picked her up and tucked her in once again, shutting her door and going to bed himself this time. He fell asleep from sheer exhaustion, not noticing the blood on his hands.

End Flashback

Mike had never told his daughter about the encounter at the bar that night or the reason her mother had left them so abruptly in an attempt to shield her from the painful truth. He only watched in disgust every time she would emulate a doctor. He knew she looked up to them and hated that fact. It was when she told him she wanted to be a doctor that he couldn't take it anymore.

Mike opened his eyes and smiled sadly at his daughter. She looked so much like her mother now that it tugged at his heart to see her. He emitted a small laugh and shook his head. "You should've been a lawyer." he said to himself.

Cuddy heard it and narrowed her eyes in confusion. "Excuse me?" she said skeptically.

"How many lives have you taken?" he asked in a dismal tone of voice, looking her straight in the eyes.


A/N: Please, please, please review. It would make my day, really. Sometimes I wonder if anyone is actually reading this fic. And I can NOT wait for Tuesday! House is back! YES!