A/N: Thank you everyone for reading this story. If you like it that much, pass it on to others you think might like it too. Also, please take the time to peruse the most recent House-Cuddy stories added or updated on Fan Fiction and Live Journal. There's a ton of good stuff out there waiting for readers like you!

Enjoy!

House woke Friday morning feeling very tired. He spent much of the previous night playing his piano, rereading Cuddy's letter and walking around the apartment in an effort to alleviate the pain in his leg. He had a lot on his mind and it kept him up until the early morning hours. Now as he rubbed his thigh which was always painful upon waking, he thought of Cuddy's letter. He still couldn't believe she actually forgave him and admitted she still cared about him. House thought all of that would have been extinguished the moment he crashed his car into her home. He was conflicted as to how he felt about this revelation. He never understood how could someone so intelligent and compassionate could love someone like him. He felt she should have found a man who wasn't physically and emotionally crippled. He felt responsible at times for holding her back from that. But she admitted so many times to me that it was me she wanted. If she didn't want me she would have said so, he thought.

House shook his head in an attempt to rid himself of his current thoughts. He knew it would be hard but he had other pressing matters like his mother's pending arrival. Deep down he was happy to see her but very nervous anticipating the talk they would undoubtedly have. He worried she was disappointed in him and that bothered him greatly. If there was anyone who ever supported him throughout his life without hesitation it was his mother but House always worried eventually he'd wind up disappointing her, it was just a matter of time. He looked down at his watch, it was eleven-thirty. He had plenty of time to eat a late breakfast, take a long hot bath, and drive to Newark to meet his mother's five-thirty flight from Lynchburg. At least the apartment is presentable, he thought. He took a moment to glance around thankful that Marcela, his newly acquired housekeeper and mother of one of his neighbors, had done her weekly cleaning just two days ago. He'd met her son Luis, a schoolteacher, at the mailboxes one evening and invited him to poker. After a few beers, Luis had talked about his mother who recently lost her husband of forty-five years. She wanted to get out of the house and work a few hours a week. Wilson made the suggestion that House hire her to cook and tidy up for him. House liked Luis and he did hate cleaning and doing laundry so he gave it a shot and it worked out perfectly. House grew to like Marcela, she was a kind and wise and very energetic and vibrant for a woman of sixty-five. While House enjoyed cooking, Marcela was much better at it and she enjoyed leaving his freezer stocked with all kinds of cuisines. Her food was so good that he suggested Wilson hire her to cook for him as well. House chuckled at the thought of being a "kept" man then after realizing time was getting away from him, he headed to the bathroom for a nice long soak in the tub before heading to Newark to meet his mother's flight.

"Son! You look wonderful!" Blythe exclaimed as she gave her son a hug and held him close.

"Oh mom you're just saying that." House accepted her hug but felt uncomfortable in front of all the people around them at the arrival gate.

"No really Greg, you look good. You know I worry about you."

"Mom I'm okay really. You look good too." He smiled at her and she knew he meant it. His mom was dressed casual but stylish in a lavender cable knit sweater with a matching lavender and gray scarf, dark gray slacks and low-heeled suede boots. For a woman in her seventies, Blythe House was still a beautiful woman.

Blythe brought him out of his thoughts. "How's your leg?"

"It's fine mom." He hated when people started a conversation which focused on his leg. He tried to deflect. "I'm parked out that way." he said, pointing to the double doors of the parking garage adjoining the airport, "Let's grab a skycap, your luggage and hit the road."

They began walking out of the airport and into the parking garage. Blythe sensed House was trying to take attention off his leg and so she followed his lead. "I thought I might cook you up some meals while I'm here and you can freeze them for leftovers. Would you like that?"

"You're not here five minutes and already you want to feed me. Do I look undernourished?" House asked while rolling his eyes at her.

"Don't roll your eyes at me young man. Besides, you live for food, that is one thing that has not changed over the years."

"Actually mom I have a housekeeper who cooks for me."

"You? A housekeeper?" Blythe had to laugh. "But James tells me you're a great cook."

"I am. I just hate cooking for myself so Marcela does it for me. I get all the goodness and none of the mess!"

"Well, I'll cook something for you anyway. Since your father-since I've been on my own I miss doing that. I'll cook some extra too for James how's that?"

"Oh no. Let Jimbo's mommy cook his meals, you're all mine."

Blythe let out a laugh.

House chimed in, "Mom you didn't tell me where you're staying? Somewhere near me I hope?"

"Actually Greg I've been meaning to discuss that with you." Blythe had a serious look on her face and House didn't know what to make of it. Then it hit him.

"You want to stay with me? All I've got is the couch."

"No dear, actually James told me I could stay at his apartment."

"What? You and Jimmy have something you want to tell me? Am I supposed to be calling him daddy next?"

"Oh Greg! Be serious. It's quite funny really, I called him to see if we'd be able to visit a bit while I'm here and he asked where I was staying and I told him and he suggested I just save the money and stay with him. It's not an issue of money for me but I thought it would be nice to see James and you and I meeting up at a hotel is so well...so formal."

House looked a bit unnerved and Blythe picked up on it immediately.

"Greg if that bothers you I can-"

He cut her off immediately. "No mom it's okay, just surprised that's all."

"Honestly dear, I know it is too uncomfortable for you to sleep on the couch with your leg as it is and I know you well enough to know you would never allow me to sleep on the couch, so I just decided to take James up on his offer. He said it's only a few blocks from your apartment."

House thought about it a moment, she was right. Sleeping on the couch would be murder on his leg and as much of an ass as he was, he'd never let his mother sleep on the couch. He relented.

"Yeah I guess you're right."

"Good, so we're all set." Blythe saw the look of concern still on his face. She knew that look all too well so she added one more thing to make him feel at ease. "Greg, I promise I won't try to butt into your personal life by asking James a thousand questions. Yes I want to know what's going on in your life but I respect your privacy. If there's anything I want to know I'll come to you okay?"

"Fair enough, but it's not you I'm worried about." House thought of all the wonderful late night chats his best friend and his mom would have and it made him want to vomit.

"Greg, if James brings up anything too personal, I'll just politely say something to him."

"Wow mom you did grow a set!"

"Gregory House watch your mouth. Besides I've always had a set. There's a lot about me you don't know." With that, Blythe winked at him and smiled.

House chuckled at his mom's reply. His mother was an educated and intelligent woman with incredible style and grace. She had always been proper though not in a snobbish way. She knew how to adapt to any situation and always made those around her feel very comfortable and at ease and she did it so effortlessly. House's grandmother once told him that his mother had always been an independent spirit but that marriage and having a child had tempered it just a bit. House now wondered just how much she'd changed since his father's death. He figured he would find out soon enough.

"Greg?" They were already standing at House's car in the handicapped spot outside the airport doors. House was so busy in thought he didn't even remember getting there.

"Sorry mom I was just thinking."

"Anything interesting?"

"Not really" he replied and paid the skycap after they loaded the luggage into the trunk. "Where to first?" he asked as they got into the car.

"Honestly I'd really like to get settled and just relax if that's okay with you. Listen for tonight how about I stay with you? One night. I will stay on the couch, no discussion or debate, understood? I'd just like us to have this first night to ourselves and catch up a bit. Do you have to go to work?"

"No, I'm good. Chase has things covered and the team knows you're arriving today so they won't bother me unless there's an emergency. We're good."

"Great, let's get going."

House tipped an imaginary hat and replied, "At your service ma'am" as he drove away from the airport and headed for his apartment.

Around eight o'clock that evening, after a few stops along the way so House could stretch his leg and Blythe could pick up a few toiletries, House had settled his mom into his apartment for the night. She had showered and changed into sweatpants and a turtleneck sweater and was wearing thick comfortable socks on her feet. House chuckled at his mom's casual wear. She'd always been a very stylish woman who made any piece of clothing look expensive and tasteful. Seeing her without her makeup looking so refreshed and vibrant made him remember the Blythe of forty years ago, when he was just a child and she had the energy to keep up with him. He smiled to himself thinking that she could probably still run circles around him.

Blythe insisted she heat something for them and House thanked a God that didn't exist that Marcela had stocked his pantry and freezer with food so his mother wouldn't complain about his lack of sustenance. She send him off to the shower, instructing him to get comfy before he returned, and she set to work preparing dinner. Twenty minutes later he limped down the hall into the living room and found his mom sitting on the couch looking at an old photo album. She looked up at him and smiled at the sight before her. There stood her only son in plaid pajama pants, socks, a tee shirt and a towel around his neck. His hair dripped a little and what there was of it was messy with strands going every which way. It reminded her of the little boy she once knew.

She smiled at him. "Dinner's on the counter dear."

"Smells good, thanks." House went into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water and a bowl of pasta.

Blythe patted the seat next to her on the couch and her son sat next to her. As they ate, they talked about little things like work, old friends, and family. Setting down their plates, they leaned back on the couch very relaxed at the moment.

"I've always loved this apartment Greg. It emanates the very essence of who you are."

"Really? Dad hated it."

"Oh your father just didn't understand you, not like I did." She sighed.

"Yeah" was the only reply he could muster at the moment.

Blythe took a deep breath before speaking again, as if carefully planning her next words. "Greg, I want to tell you something, it's important I say this now before anything else. It's been on my mind and I need to get it out."

House became nervous. His mother's tone had suddenly become serious and he wasn't sure how to interpret it. He motioned for her to continue.

"Since your father died, I have not been a very good mother to you." House tried to interject but Blythe would not have that. "Let me continue dear. You were always so self-sufficient; you never needed my help with anything. I remember times you tried doing things like roller skating, riding a bike, and climbing trees, and when you fell down you never let me help you up. You always picked yourself up before I could get to you and you kept going. I stood there watching you try over and over again until you succeeded. I'd always known you were special and there was something about you that made you a fighter. I'm afraid that over the years I'd gotten so used to that Greg that I forgot that sometimes, even when a boy becomes a man, he still needs his mother. It's just he just may not know how to ask her for help."

"Mom I told you I'm fine."

"Please Greg, let me finish. You never asked me for anything. I wasn't ignoring you, I was doing what you wanted me to do from the time you were a child. I was letting you live your life and make your own mistakes. As difficult as it was I stood by and watched you fall without helping you back up because you always managed to do it on your own. But these past few years, those times you fell and couldn't pick yourself up as easily as you once did, you needed me and I wasn't there. I'm so sorry Greg." Blythe said as tears came to her eyes.

Not used to his mother's tears House was unsure what to do. He hated to see his mother cry so he put his arm around her shoulder and reassured her. "Mom, you couldn't save me, nobody could. I had to do it myself."

"Greg, you have always been a strong person and I counted on that to carry you through the hardest times of your life. But dear, you are only human and sometimes we need help, we need other people. You've always been too stubborn to ask for help. I've always admired your sheer determination and while I find that a great strength, sometimes it can be a great weakness too. In many ways you are like your father." House tried to interrupt again but his mother put her hand up and he knew better. "Your father could be a real son of a bitch at times."

House just gaped at his mother. He couldn't believe she really said that.

"You seem surprised."

"It's just that I never thought I'd hear you of all people say that."

"Give it time dear." She laughed hoping to lighten the mood for a moment before getting serious again.

"As I said your father could be a son of a bitch at times but he was not a quitter. He never accepted failure as an option. For him it was succeed or die trying. In that way you are very much like him. Although his sheer stubbornness annoyed me at times, I loved him anyway, just as I love you."

House just stayed silent, unsure how to respond, if at all.

Blythe put her hand on her son's knee. "Greg, while in some ways you are like him, you are not him and you never will be him. I know that thought has worried you for many years."

Again House was stunned. His parents were married fifty years and in all that time House never heard his mother speak about his father this way.

"Greg, I loved your father very much but as you know he was not an easy man to live with. There were times early on in our marriage I wanted to leave him but I stayed. I stayed because of you and because I believed in him. I really did admire his strength and courage even though at times I hated his need for control and structure. It made things tough at times but I saw a side of your father you never saw and that is why I stayed with him. Believe it or not, beneath that tough exterior was a decent man, but few ever saw it. He once told me that being with me made him a better person. That was one of those moments I knew it had all been worth it. Greg, he knew he was a lousy father and though I told him it was never too late to try, he never did. I don't think it was because he didn't care, I just don't think he knew how or where to start."

Blythe took a breath before she continued. Meanwhile House sat silent, just listening.

"I think your father must have thought that you having me somehow made up for what he couldn't do for you. Your father was a good provider, a hard worker and he did teach you some valuable lessons. I can recall some good times between the two of you but you missed out on having the kind of father you deserved. He actually expressed his regret once, a few months before he died, and he never spoke of it again."

House looked down at his hands which were folded in his lap. He was not sure how to respond.

"Greg please understand I am not making excuses for how your father treated you. There is no excuse. But part of understanding who you are is understanding who he was. Your father was raised by a very tough man under very tough circumstances. His father made his life very tough on him and I'm afraid he did that to you too. He never had a good relationship with his father and he made the same mistakes with you. Part of it was my fault, I should have done more to push you two together but he was a very strong-willed person as were you. But trust me dear, you are not your father no matter how much you might think you are. He was not strong enough to overcome his weaknesses and his past but you are and you can. Trust me, l know you better than you think. You are a good man, you have a good heart. A lot of people just don't see what I see, what Wilson sees and what...Lisa saw. But I promise you it is there."

Blythe took a deep breath and looked down. That was a lot to reveal and she hoped it hadn't scared her son into silence. She also hoped he would not be upset at the mention of Lisa's name. Meanwhile House was still surprised by his mother's revelations. He was out of his comfort zone and she sensed it.

Blythe put her hand on her son's arm; it was very gentle and meant to be reassuring. "Greg, it's alright, you can feel free to say what's on your mind or not, it's your choice. But I want you to know you do not need to censor yourself around me. I want you to be who you are, always have. We have a lot to discuss and the only rules are one, you don't feel like you have to hide anything and two, I don't pass judgment. How's that?"

House was still speechless and all he could do was shake his head to acknowledge her. He always knew his mom had been his number one fan, his most fierce protector and defeder. She had always shown him love, support and encouragement and that had not changed, not even now. House let out a sigh and relaxed a bit. His mother's words were actually a relief to him because one of his biggest fears was disappointing her after all she'd done for him in his life. He never felt he deserved her love and forgiveness. Actually, he never felt he deserved it from anyone.

As if Blythe could read his mind at that moment, she took his hand in hers and said "Greg, no matter what you do in this life, I will always love you unconditionally and I will be here for you. Always, no matter what. Okay?"

With a lump in his throat, he replied, "Okay."

She released his hand, patted it and smiled. "Now, it's been a long day. Let's catch up a bit more and call it a night shall we?"

Thanks so much guys for reading. It means so much to me!

Jess