Chapter 14! Thanks guys for continuing to read and comment on this story. It's probably going to be the longest one I've written, so reviews are the kick up the bum I need to keep going. Thoughts about where you think this is going?

I know some of you have questions about various things. Some of them I'd rather answer during the course of the story, but there are a couple of issues I can clear up now. Firstly, House's parole ended just after Cuddy wandered back into his life. When he was talking to Chase in the bar he absolutely saw leaving NJ as a possible way forward, but was talked out of it. Secondly, and I think I did make this explicit, I really can't envisage him magically getting his license back after two stays in prison. I can't understand how he got it back in the first place to be quite honest, but that's 'Shore logic' for you.

One person wondered if Jane was going to resurface. I hold my hand up on that one and admit she was a bit of a plot device to get them to discuss a few things. I've got too many other more important loose ends to tie up before this fic comes to a close to really consider another complication. Sorry. :/

Most of these characters aren't mine. I borrow them.

Cuddy felt sick. The kind of nervous nausea she'd felt the day she'd gotten her med school exam results, but ten times worse. Looking herself over in her dressing table mirror, she sighed unhappily and pulled at her new, grey suit, fastening the jacket button and regarding her glum reflection. The truth was she felt completely out of her depth. For six years she'd been, first and foremost, a Mother. Her work at the charity in New York had just been a regular distraction that kept her ticking over financially and mentally, and hadn't been anywhere near as demanding, or indeed as rewarding as running PPTH. Now she wasn't entirely sure if she was still up for the job. There was so much to be done. So much had changed there. She'd changed. Worse still, everybody had seemed to have the utmost faith that she could pull it off. The Board had shrugged off her illness and told her if it was under control then they were happy to go ahead. They'd even laid a very attractive 'welcome back' bonus on the table on top of a more than reasonable salary, so great was their confidence in her abilities to turn around the waning fortunes of the hospital. But what if she couldn't? On the verge of picking up her cell to tell the Board she'd had second thoughts, a wolf whistle from someone a couple of feet away drew her away from the brink.

"You look hot!" Appreciatively House eyed her up and down as he stood in the bathroom doorway wearing nothing except a towel around his waist. It'd been years since he'd seen her in work attire, and boy she still knew how to fill a suit in all the right places. "I mean really, really hot."

"Hot wasn't the look I was going for," she responded irritably, slotting an earring through one ear and sliding the back on, as her boyfriend rounded on her and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"You look hot whatever you wear." Kissing her on the neck as she secured the other earring, he took in the floral scent of her perfume. "You smell incredible too… Kinda jealous that I'm not going to be one of the ones ogling you all day."

Seeing her expression change from one of mild irritancy to outright annoyance in the mirror, House felt her removing his hands from her waist before she span around to face him.

"Because that's exactly the kind of so-called encouragement I need right now."

"What did I do?!"

"Why don't you tell me that my ass looks great in this skirt, or that it won't matter if I make a complete fool of myself, because I'm wearing a push-up bra?" she quizzed sarcastically, her hands falling to her hips confrontationally.

Baffled by the outburst, House raised an eyebrow.

"Cuddy, I have no idea what you're talking about… I was just trying to tell you how good you look, which you do. As your boyfriend am I not allowed to feel a little sad that I'm not going to get the full benefit of your gorgeousness today, whilst a whole bunch of other people are?"

Taking a steadying, deep breath, she leant back against the table and looked down at the carpet. She felt like a fool, especially when her energy needed to be conserved for battles elsewhere.

"I'm sorry," she offered with a conciliatory smile. "I'm nervous and I took it out on you."

"I'll live." Smiling back at her, he threaded his fingers through hers and examined her. The dark rings under her eyes betrayed how fretfully she'd slept the night before, incessantly tossing and turning and waking him up more than once. "You've got nothing to be nervous about. You'll be fine."

"Really? Because I feel like I'm about to screw this up so badly."

"So what if you do?"

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," she chided, throwing her head back in despair.

"I think you can do this with your eyes closed," he answered matter-of-factly, pulling her towards him and forcing her to look at him again. "But worst case scenario, so what if it doesn't work out? We can regroup and look at other options."

Amused at his level-headed approach to the situation, Cuddy regarded him with a glint in her eye.

"You almost sound like an adult."

Feigning shock, House's mouth fell open and he gasped.

"Of all the insults you've thrown at me over the years that is by far the worst!"

Chuckling at his pretend indignation, she wrapped her arms around him and enjoyed the closeness, the smell of her shower gel on him proving oddly comforting.

"I want to not fuck this up… This isn't just any job. PPTH always used to feel like the place I was meant to be."

"Then kick some ass today!" he encouraged simply. "Make them remember why they can't do without you… Just don't flirt with the Head of the Diagnostics department."

Pulling away, Cuddy frowned at him. Yeah it was a joke, but a part of him no doubt felt left out of the whole thing. Once upon a time, PPTH was his domain too.

"Chase is definitely not my type."

"You say that, but…" Before he had chance to finish his sentence, she grabbed his face and let her lips crash against his in a brief, yet meaningful embrace, her eyes burning into his when she broke away. "You're my type, House."

"Glad to hear it," he mumbled, his mouth still tingling from the kiss. "I could reciprocate the sentiment with ten minutes of heavy petting."

"As wonderful as that sounds, I really need to get going."

"Already?" Turning to check the time on the alarm clock, it confirmed what he thought. "It's only 7.30."

"I want to get there early, go over a few things and settle in before I have my first meeting."

He nodded. It would be a fruitless task trying to stop her. Risking making her late by asking her to have breakfast with him and the kids would probably elevate her anxiety levels even further, and that was the last thing he wanted.

"Then call me at lunch."

"Ok," she agreed, pecking him on the cheek and starting to head towards the door. "Just remember to put some clothes on before you go out there. Marina's already arrived to see to Rachel and Gabe, and I don't want her walking out after I just convinced her to come back."

"Doesn't she know it's one of the perks of the job?"

"You might be my type, House, but you're not everybody else's." Coyly she bit her lip and turned back to look at him, as his eyes narrowing at her as if he was plotting something.

"I was going to wish you good luck, but I don't think I'll bother now." Pretending to be hurt, he limped over to the bed and sat down; his arms crossing his chest in defiance, as a smirk turned up one corner of his mouth.

"I love you," she said quietly, astonishing both of them with the timing and the sincerity of the statement. She hadn't really intended to say it. They weren't the type of couple to make those kind of declarations every two minutes, in spite of them being a hell of a lot more open and affectionate this time around. It had just slipped out.

"I… I know." He'd wanted to repeat it back to her, but for some reason the words wouldn't come out. "I'll speak to you later."

Attempting to hide her disappointment, his girlfriend nodded and shot him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, quickly exiting the room to say her goodbyes to the kids.

Newly alone in her bedroom, House scrunched his eyes shut and grunted unhappily. After everything they'd been through, why was it still so hard to tell her how he felt sometimes?

"Hey!" Cuddy said wearily into her cell when House finally picked up, slipping off her heels and resting her aching feet on her desk, as she looked around her office and decided a lick of much less drab paint would be necessary if she was going to spend any real amount of time there. Some of the furniture would have to go. Foreman's professional, yet clinical taste in interior design didn't match her own, nor did the project the kind of image she wanted when somebody set foot in the space.

"If this is your idea of calling me at lunch, I'm ninety-nine percent sure I'd be asleep if you were calling me at dinner."

Glancing at her watch as it approached six 'o' clock, she groaned.

"This is literally the first time I've had chance to sit down," she responded honestly. Understandably on the first day back after a regime change, her schedule had been crazy. "I'm still at work… Are you at home?"

"Yup! I didn't want to presume it was ok to just turn up at your place… It's a good job I didn't."

Immediately she frowned to herself. There was no mistaking the clipped edge to his voice. Could he really be annoyed at her for not ringing earlier?

"Are you pissed off with me?"

"Nope." There it was again: the curtness.

"You sound pissed," she insisted.

"Not pissed… So how was it?"

"A little awkward at first, but being busy helped…" Looking out through her office door she watched patients and nurses still milling around the clinic, and pressed her head back against the leather of her chair to give herself a more comfortable vantage point. It still felt surreal being there again. Oddly the same and yet different at the same time; almost as if she'd been picked up and dropped off in a parallel universe. She'd had a few odd looks from some members of staff who'd been there long enough to remember her from her previous tenure, but mostly everybody just wanted to keep their heads down and do their jobs in the exact same way she did. There had been one thing that bothered her however. "It's strange being here without you and Wilson."

After a long pause she heard him take a deep breath.

"I guess they don't make immensely talented diagnosticians and barely competent oncologists like they used to," he replied sombrely.

"How about you?... How was work today?"

"Same crap, different day."

"I missed you."

"Sounds like you didn't have time to," he said bluntly.

Rolling her eyes, Cuddy decided to throw in the towel. She'd intended to ask him to come around for dinner, but she suspected he'd neither accept, nor be the greatest company for her or the kids before they went to bed.

"For whatever reason you're really annoyed with me and I can't deal with that now. I'm too tired."

"Of course you are!" he spat sarcastically. "The Great Lisa Cuddy has returned to work, therefore the World has to stop!"

Taken aback by the venomous way he was talking to her, momentarily she was at a loss for words.

"I'm ending this conversation before one of us says something we'll really regret."

"Bye then!"

"Bye!"

Emphatically she pressed the 'End call' button on her screen and resolved to go home. She'd intended to invite him over for dinner, but what kind of company would he be for any of them if he was in that sort of mood? If he refused to tell her what she'd done wrong then how was she supposed to rectify it? Scooping up some paperwork, she slipped her shoes back, put on her coat and home.

Across town House sat in his dimly lit apartment with his phone still pressed to his forehead, his eyes closed as he realised how stupid he'd just been. The Advil had done little to abate the pain in his thigh all day, and the muscle was currently throbbing almost unbearably. Eventually throwing his cell aside onto the seat next to him, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small jewellery box, his thumb rubbing over the soft material that covered it.

Even now, several hours later, he had no idea why he'd taken it.

Noisily House rapped on the apartment door. He really couldn't care less if it disturbed anybody else. His leg now hurt like hell and all he wanted to do was get inside and find somewhere to sit so he could alleviate the pressure from standing on it. When nobody came he refused to give up. He knew Chase was home. Light emanating from under the door and the feint sound of music gave that away, but he refused to be ignored. Lifting his cane, he knocked even harder on the wood and cleared his throat.

"I know you're in there, Skippy! I'm not going until you let me in!"

In the distance he heard some movement and then the patter of bare feet on floorboards that gradually became more distinct, before locks were undone and a head full of dishevelled blonde hair poked out.

"What do you want, House?"

"Social call!" he responded overly chirpily. Stepping forward to let himself in Chase held his ground.

"You don't do social calls."

Looking down at the floor, he shifted his weight awkwardly and pursed his lips.

"Cuddy and I had an argument."

"And that's my problem because…?"

"You're the reason we got back together. Technically this is your fault."

"You can't guilt me like you used to guilt Wilson," the younger man said defiantly, letting the door open a little wider as he folded his arms across his chest. Inside House could just make out a female figure picking up a jumper from the living room floor and tiptoeing out of sight. "Whatever happened between you and Cuddy is down to you guys."

"Which is actually code for 'I'm banging someone I picked up tonight, so get lost'" House shot back spitefully.

"What I do in my spare time is absolutely none of your business, so yeah, you can get lost."

About to shut the door, House hooked his cane in the gap between the jamb and finally let the desperation show in his eyes.

"I'm in pain," he admitted, lowering his voice so he couldn't be heard inside. "A lot of pain."

Sighing, Chase ran his hand through his hair and puffed his cheeks out.

"Wouldn't you be better going to Cuddy's?"

The older man responded with a shake of the head.

"In case you haven't noticed already, I'm in a crappy mood. I don't want to make things worse between us, and I sure as hell don't want the kids involved in that… When my leg's this bad I need a distraction. Seen as hookers are no longer on my radar, if I don't find one, Vicodin starts looking like a really good idea and I don't want to go there. I can't go there." Forlornly, he regarded the half-dressed man in front of him. He hated having to resort to this, but being on his own was driving him up the wall. "You're the only other person I know here now. The only other person I trust."

Throwing his head back in defeat, Chase pulled the door further open and stepped aside, gesturing for his former boss to come in.

"Find somewhere to sit and I'll be back in a minute," he said distractedly, grasping his t-shirt off the floor and hurriedly making his way to the bedroom to 'discuss' the situation with the girl he'd brought home.

In his absence, House pushed various empty take-out boxes off the sofa and sat down, stretching forward to pull the coffee table a little closer, before gingerly lifting his bad leg and resting it on the glass. With waves of relief permeating over him, he closed his eyes and listened in on the conversation in the other room, overhearing Chase turning off the 'mood music' and then charming his way out of it by promising to give her a call the day after. Of course he wouldn't. That wasn't part of his M.O. If she wasn't completely stupid, she probably knew that too.

Moments later a pretty brunette shyly scooted past him, awkwardly offering a "Hello" and leaving as fast as she could. As the door to the apartment closed, Chase brusquely flopped down onto sofa next to him and groaned disappointedly.

"I really liked her as well."

"What was her name?" House quizzed, balling up his fist and kneading it into his sore thigh muscle.

"Julie." The diagnostician's eyes narrowed as if he was questioning his own answer. "Julia… I think."

House snorted derisively.

"Wow! You two really had a deep connection."

"We might have done if you hadn't interrupted."

Throwing his hands in the air, the man next to him screwed his face up in disgust.

"Spare me! The pain already makes me want to vomit."

Looking skywards, Chase shook his head. As much as he begrudging found himself liking and respecting the guy, he really could be a prick. Silently he slid down the sofa and hooked his fingers behind his head, watching House continue to massage his leg out of the corner of his eye.

"You've taken something to try and calm it down? A non-opiate I mean."

"No, I waved my magic wand and hoped for the best!" he replied irritably, biting his lip through a jolt of pain. "Of course I did!"

Deciding not to take the bait, the younger one opted to go off on a tangent.

"Is this why you and Cuddy argued? You just snapped because of your leg?"

"Partly," House retorted honestly. "Maybe partly because I was jealous that she's gone back to PPTH when that's not an option for me… And believe me, I know how much of an asshole that makes me."

Chase shrugged.

"Being a doctor, solving cases, it used to be a huge part of your life. It was your life… I can understand why it must be difficult to see her going back to the job she loves when you can't."

"But I was the one who told her to go back. I'm happy she has. It's where she belongs." Seeing the confused look on his face, House paused and scratched his forehead. He was baffling himself. "That's not even really the reason I snapped at her."

"Then what was?"

Letting the air filter in and out of his lungs slowly, he reached into his jeans' pocket and pulled out the small, black, velvet covered box, before handing it over to the guy next to him. Opening it up, Chase frowned when he saw what was inside glinting back at him.

"A ring?... Are you planning on proposing?"

"With the ring her dead husband gave her?" he scoffed. "Yeah, that'd be entirely appropriate, Skippy!"

Even more puzzled by the article of jewellery he was currently holding, Chase's brow furrowed further.

"I don't understand why you have this."

"Neither do I," House mumbled, his thumb and forefinger pressing into his eye sockets. "I was looking for my wallet this morning and I found it… In the drawer next to her bed. The bed that we happen to share most nights these days."

"So you're pissed off that she's kept the ring now that you're back together?"

"Yes. No… Oh Jesus Christ, I don't know!" Sliding down the sofa himself, he wordlessly ruminated a little more on the matter for a moment or two. "She told me she loved him, not like it is for us, but she still felt enough for him once to make that kind of commitment to him once..."

"And you're jealous of that?" the younger man interrupted incredulously. "The man's dead!"

"If you'd shut up and let me finish…"

"Go ahead!"

"It's not her ex that really bothers me, it's what this represents… It's the fact she's the type of woman who, one day, is going to want to get married again. Deep down she's always wanted that kind of reassurance. That kind of permanence, even if she didn't have a clue how to sustain it."

Unhooking his hands from behind his head, Chase sat up and turned towards him.

"And you don't want that? Something permanent?"

"I love her," House mused out loud. "I think I was in love with her long before I consciously realised that was the case… Realistically I just don't understand how she'd benefit from being tied to me permanently… She tells me she needs me, and I really think she believes that, but the scales are never going to be equal in this relationship. I'm always going to be that stone around her neck, dragging her down, because that's what I do. That's who I am. I suck the life out of people until there's nothing left… I did it with Wilson, with her, with Stacy and with practically everybody that worked for me if they didn't get out early enough..." He stopped for a second and examined his former protégé guiltily. "Cameron told me I was the reason your marriage ended… That I ruined you. That I made you too much like me, and she's right... You're not happy, you work too much and you try to screw away the loneliness like I did a few years back. The only difference is you're pretty enough and not gimpy enough to have to pay for it."

Taking in his admission of culpability, Chase let his gaze fall to the floor. Rarely had the man he used to work for laid himself bare like this, or indeed conceded his wrong-doing in such an honest and upfront manner. It was actually a little unnerving.

"That's not true. About my marriage, or about you sucking the life out of people."

"Bullshit!" House dismissed immediately.

The younger man shook his head.

"My marriage ended because Cameron and I were fundamentally incompatible… She sees things in black and white, and I don't… It's why I couldn't hack it at the seminary, and it's why I stayed working for you for so long… As soon as she found out what I did to Dibala I became a murderer and nothing was ever going to change that. There isn't a single day that goes by where I don't feel guilty for doing something that led to a man's death, but I also think about all the people's lives I saved in the process and that's when I realise I'd do it again if I was in the same situation…"

He paused and looked House square in the eye, his finger pointing to himself.

"That's who I am. Who I always was… Sure, you may have shaped me a little, but the raw goods were always there and that's who Cameron couldn't stay with… You never ruined any of us. You just showed us who we really were in the cold, harsh light of day, and mostly that worked out for the best, even if it wasn't always pleasant. I'm not ashamed of who I am… The man I am, the doctor I am, allows me to work what seem like miracles to people who thought they were lost causes, and I'm proud of that. I know you used to be too… You used to go on and on about it just being about the puzzle, but then if you lost a patient you'd go off the rails. Why? Because lives mattered to you. People mattered."

"Are you sure it wasn't just about my ego being bruised?"

"Not a chance!" Chase contested. "You could have done anything you wanted, but you chose medicine."

"I wanted to be respected." Immediately House's mind flew back to the baraku he'd encountered in Japan as a child, and the high regard he'd been held in because of his expertise, in spite of his social standing. He'd always cited him as the reason he'd chosen to become a doctor, but was that really it? Not even he was certain.

"Maybe, and you were, but what really made you good at what you did was the fact you know what it feels like to be in pain. I'm not just talking about what's going on in your leg right now either." Knowingly the younger man continued to glower at him. His former employer didn't have to wear his heart on his sleeve for him to know that they'd both suffered varying types of neglect as children. You didn't develop House's particular hang-ups and quirks if your upbringing was entirely well-adjusted. "If you didn't, you wouldn't have been such a good advocate for what was right for the patient, even when their fears and instincts were making them want to run in the opposite direction of the treatment you were proposing… You've done some despicable things in the time that I've known you, but whether you like it or not, you're not a heartless bastard. You just make everybody believe that because it's a way of safeguarding yourself from more pain… Nothing ventured, nobody to slap you in the face at the end of it."

Feeling strangely proud of his former fellow's perceptiveness, a mischievous grin elevated one corner of House's mouth.

"You should probably have given diagnostics a swerve and become a shrink. More money and much more comfortable chairs to sit on all day."

"Is anything that I just said wrong?" Chase threw back cockily.

Begrudgingly he shook his head, and inwardly accepted that the pupil had well and truly become the teacher. Sensing the ache in his thigh ease a little, he dropped his leg back onto the wooden floor and flexed it up and down to prevent it from cramping.

"What if Cuddy and I are fundamentally incompatible? We're so different."

"Only on a superficial level," Chase contradicted, absently rubbing the back of his hand over his temple. It was infuriating that two such intelligent people could be so blind to what seemed so obvious to almost everybody else. "Anybody would only have to spend ten minutes with you two together in a room to know that you're both gifted, passionate, stubborn and completely obsessed with each other… I don't think either of you could stay out of each other's lives for good even if you wanted to, so cut the crap and just enjoy the fact you've been given a second chance… And for God's sake talk to her when you have a problem, instead of coming to my apartment!"

Quickly, House's evident thoughtfulness transformed into a cheeky grin.

"You forgot to mention the incredible sex."

"I ate in the last hour."

"What's wrong with Cuddy?" House inquired defensively. "The mother of my child is seriously hot, and funny, and smart. Did I mention hot?"

"It's not Cuddy I have a problem with imagining naked."

Not quite sure how to take the insult, he chose to ignore it. If his girlfriend told him she wasn't interested in the new Head of the Diagnostics department that was good enough for him, no matter how much the thought of him thinking about her without her clothes on rankled. In any case, he'd been the one who planted the seed in Chase's mind. He only had himself to blame.

"You need a Cuddy of your own. Someone whose name you're not going to forget," he eventually asserted, as if it was the most obvious thing on Planet Earth. "Stop fucking around and clean your goddamn apartment once in a while! You might think you're still young, but you're only a couple of years away from being tragic and desperate."

"Thanks for the words of wisdom." Amused by his helpful belligerence, the diagnostician couldn't help but chuckle. This was his version of 'nice'.

"You're welcome." Catching sight of the controllers, he nodded towards the games console under the television in the corner of the room. "Now load up 'Agents of Doom 3' and let me kick your ass!"