Dream a dream

"Do you miss Lydia," Nyx asked after a moment of silence.

"What do you know about Lydia!" House demanded.

"Hello," Nyx reminded him. "In your dreams still."

"But I haven't dreamed of her," House insisted, but as Nyx lifted a sceptical eyebrow he was forced to add: "Much."

"But she has been in your mind, and she was in your dreams before," Nyx pointed out. "So do you miss him?"

"Don't know," House shrugged trying to appear nonchalant.

"Want me to tell you?" Nyx suggested archly.

"Shut up," House told her succinctly.

"Apparently not," Nyx concluded. "But you do think of her. Fondly?"

"You're starting to sound like a musical number," House scorned. "But yeah, I think of her fondly – or something."

"You sound like you don't really want to think of her," Nyx observed.

"Losing her hurt," House admitted – almost like he wasn't really conscious of having said anything. Of course, he was dreaming, so that might have explained it.

"More than knowing her for such a short time was worth?" Nyx enquired.

"I needed her then," House mused. "She needed me. We were able to be there for each other and the connection made some things bearable that otherwise quite weren't. No, losing her did not hurt more than knowing her – there and then – was worth. Besides, pain is something I know how to handle."

"Really?" Nyx asked. "I was under the impression that pain was what got you to commit yourself. And you're back on Vicodin, too."

"Vicodin was never the problem," House reminded her. "And it wasn't pain that made me go there. It was lack of pain."

"You couldn't accept that there were hardly any consequences?" Nyx pondered. "Even when you were not at fault."

"I should have accepted the lift Amber offered," House insisted. "I put her on the bus. Of course I didn't mean for her to die. I didn't want her dead; I didn't even want her gone. She was surprisingly good for Wilson and we were dealing. But I put her on the bus."

"Millions of people travel on busses daily, even hourly. It is one of the safest modes of transport," Nyx offered. "You were unlucky. You were not culpable in her death. Even Wilson said so at a time when he very much wanted you to be."

"But it should still have been me, not her." House sighed.

"Survivor guilt?" Nyx suggested. "Is that what you feel over Kutner, too? You have survived and he didn't."

"He did rather choose an almost infallible method," House offered.

"That he did," Nyx accepted. "Do you feel that if you had chosen a similar method before, he would not have committed suicide? Do you think you, the job he had under you, the pressures involved in that job somehow made him do it?"

"No, not really," House sighed. "But I pride myself on my skills at observation. I claim to notice everything, and I didn't see his pain. I don't know if there was anything anyone could have done to help him, but I should have tried."

"And what would you have done?" Nyx asked. "Held his hand?"

"No," House scoffed. "Of course not. But had I noticed that he had problems I could have referred him to a shrink. We have some good ones on staff. This is a high pressure profession, Cuddy has an excellent counselling and care system in place."

"Don't you think he knew it," Nyx queried.

"Yes, of course he did," House shrugged. "But sometimes you need a push. And in the right direction, not over the edge."

"And you think you pushed him over the edge because you didn't see that he needed another kind of push," Nyx concluded. "And since there were no consequences to you, you didn't know how to deal with it since you do believe in consequences. Those were pretty much the only constant in your life when you were a kid. Even if some of them were unpredictable."

"My Dad is dead," House noted. "Let him rot in peace."

"Fine, fine, let's stay with the living," Nyx surrendered. "Have you kept in touch with Alvie?"

"No," House didn't elaborate.

"But you were friends?" Nyx sounded a little uncertain.

"Yeah," House nodded. "He was ok."

"That's it?" Nyx stared. "He was ok. Nothing else? I don't expect you to have a girly gushing fit over how you miss him and all that, but surely there is more. He practically adored you."

"He shouldn't have," House stated. "He should have concentrated on getting better."

"You know he is doing that now," Nyx reminded him.

"So I heard," House admitted. "Good for him. But you do notice I had to leave for him to do that. He may have seen me as a friend, but I was a hindrance."

"Or maybe you were what he needed to finally make up his mind that he, too, wanted to get better," Nyx suggested. "Maybe seeing someone as strong as you admit that he is broken, needs help and wants to get better, was just what he needed to make up his own mind. Maybe he now understands that admitting to being broken is not that bad. Most of us are broken some way or another. And most of us want to be mended."

"But the cracks will still show and some pieces will always be missing," House said.

"Yes," Nyx nodded. "But that is what makes people beautiful. Life."

"Death," House countered. "You talk about the vulnerability of people, and that is due to mortality. Death, the inevitability of it, is what makes people beautiful, or ugly or indifferent."

"No, I'm not talking about the vulnerability of people," Nyx denied. "I'm talking about their ability to endure, to survive, to learn. To live. The life you have lived, the thoughts you have had, the things you have survived all leave their marks on you. And sometimes you are at your most beautiful when you are broken and need to mend. Life may be fragile, but it makes things beautiful."

"Well, Alvie wasn't beautiful," House decided he had had enough of soppy stuff. "And he was annoying."

"But you liked him," Nyx smiled. "You ended up liking quite a few people in the asylum. Because they were all broken and you didn't need to hide your own vulnerability from them. You were free. Free to find out what you really want."

"To be happy?" House didn't sound very convinced.

"You said so," Nyx reminded him. "And you were not lying. Of course you know, as most people do, that happiness is not a constant state. It is a moment. But at least you know you can find that moment, that you a capable of having it. Sometimes you just have to take it and make the most of it."

"And then it's gone," House pointed out.

"And then you look for another one," Nyx countered.

"Regardless of the cost?" House questioned.

"No, not regardless of the cost to you," Nyx said. "But not letting the cost cripple you either. Sometimes, the happiness there and then is worth the cost later."