Thank yooou for the reviews, and thanks to my beta, Kyry. :-) Penultimate part... enjoy!

Fading Addiction Part Twenty One

That evening couldn't come quickly enough for me. I'd spent the entire day laying down, restless with no energy, but excited about seeing Cuddy later on. Though I was apprehensive about how things would go, I was hopeful that for once we wouldn't end up arguing. For my part, I planned on speaking to Cuddy respectfully, and make a special effort to stay calm and not fire spiteful words at her when she tried to give me advice.

From when she picked me up at my apartment, through the entire journey back to hers, to when we sat together in her lounge; I managed it. However, then came the dreaded question, which though I tried to kid myself wouldn't be asked, eventually was.

"Are you hungry?"

Immediately, I ripped my eyes away from Cuddy's, trying to figure out the best answer to the question.

"Ok, maybe I should put it a different way. Do you think maybe you should eat something?" she asked me apprehensively.

"I don't know if I can..." I admitted, trying to keep my voice level.

Cuddy turned my head so that once again I faced her. "Do you think you could try?" She paused and then added, "For me?"

I swallowed hard, not wanting to ruin a potentially good evening. "I'm scared to."

"Why?" she asked gently.

"I don't..." I almost shut myself off; before the guilt hit me. Here was Cuddy, making an effort, trying to help me. By keeping things to myself I was not only making myself sicker, but potentially ruining this thing that Cuddy and I had developing between us. And so, taking a deep breath, I forced myself to speak. "If I eat, then that means I'm taking in calories. That's going to... to make me fat. I don't want to put on weight. If those scales tell me I'm putting on weight, I don't think I'll be able to cope."

"Eating is going to make you you again," Cuddy said firmly. "And as for your scales; throw them out. The nutritionist can keep an eye on your weight; it isn't something you should be obsessing over."

"I can't help it," I defended myself.

"I know," She soothed. "But you need to start putting on weight before you get any worse. Gaining will get you better."

"Better physically; not mentally," I argued.

"If you don't eat," Cuddy whispered, leaning in towards me. "You are going to die."

"I know that," I said, willing myself not to get upset and turn the evening into something out of a horror movie. "And I don't want to die. I want to be here, with you." I clasped her hands in mine, trying to show her that I was here, I was with her.

"You can't have both," she spoke quietly again. "I'm not giving you an ultimatum, that's not going to help anything. What I am trying to do is show you that it's ok to eat." Raising her voice slightly, speaking at a normal level she added, "Another thing to consider is perhaps taking vitamins? Zero calories and they could really help with your deficiencies."

I nodded. "Yeah, I suppose."

Tracing a finger down my cheek she added, "And sweetie a few pieces of toast won't make you fat, why don't you just have some?"

Not knowing what else to do, I shrugged. Taking this as a yes, Cuddy smiled at me and exited to the kitchen, leaving me alone. The moment she was gone I couldn't hold back the tears any longer, and quietly, I began to cry. There was no way I could do this. I just couldn't. I was kidding myself that things were improving, that I was strong enough to fight this. I was weak, and I always would be.

"Right, it's wholemeal bread so it's healthy, and I've left them plain for you, so there's nothing..." Cuddy had entered the room again, but stopped talking the moment she saw that I was upset. "Allison?"

Wiping my eyes, I looked up at her, forcing a smile. "I'm ok, really."

Placing the tray on the coffee table, Cuddy sat beside me, wrapping her arm around me. "No you're not. Come on, it's ok to cry." She pulled me towards hers, allowing me to cling on tightly, needing her to shield me from the food, if only for a few brief minutes.

"I'm sorry," I sniffed, moving away from her and attempting to pull myself together.

"Don't be," she insisted. "You've nothing to apologise for."

"I should be stronger than this!" I exclaimed, frustrated. "It's just toast for God's sake!" Adrenaline pumping through my veins, with determination I reached over, picking up and placing the tray in my lap. "Just toast," I muttered, staring at the three pieces before me.

Shakily, I lifted up a piece, examining it. Cuddy was right, there was nothing on it. Just plain, wholemeal bread. I nibbled at the corner, conscious of the fact that Cuddy was watching me. I'd always hated people watching me eat. However, I tried to ignore the fact that she was sitting next to me, and pretended I was alone. Just me and the toast.

Three pieces.

Then two.

Just half a piece left.

"I can't eat anymore," I gasped, my stomach feeling full, swollen. It was extremely painful, sensitive to the solid food that hadn't been digested in far, far too long.

Though she'd remained silent since I'd began to eat the toast, Cuddy now spoke aloud. "That's fine, you've done really well." She took the tray from me, placing a kiss on my cheek. "I'm just going to take this to the kitchen."

Straight away she came back, returning to her seat. "How are you feeling?"

Bluntly I replied, "Like hell. I'm in pain, I feel bloated, and just... ugly."

"The pain and bloating is to be expected and as for your last comment, you're not," She countered.

"You're just saying that to be nice," I disagreed.

"If I was just saying it to be nice, then I wouldn't be doing this," she stated, pulling me towards her for a kiss. Our lips clashed, and though I was scared to be kissing her so soon after eating, when she began running her fingers through my hair, nibbling on my lower lip and pressing her chest into mine, I soon relaxed. Eventually, reluctantly she pulled away groaning, "Do you believe me now, Dr. Cameron?"

"Maybe," I said hoarsely. "Why did you stop?"

The mood changing, she told me, "We need to talk."

Sighing, I begged, "Can we chat later? I don't want to kill the mood with my issues."

"You won't be," she insisted. "Al, you need to open up. There's so much we need to talk about, including things other than your eating disorder."

"Like what?" I frowned.

"House and Chase." She informed me.

"Ummm, what about them?" I asked confused.

"Look, I'm just going to come right out and say this. Do you still have feelings for either of them?" She said, hiding any emotion from her voice.

Incredulous, I replied, "I can't believe you'd even contemplate the thought that I..."

"Just answer the question," she interrupted.

"No," I said vehemently. "Chase was just a fuck buddy and House... House was a crush. Nothing more, nothing less. And note; I've used the past tense." When she still looked unconvinced I added, "I would never have accepted his date, even if you and I weren't together."

Cuddy looked surprised. "We're together?"

Worried I'd overstepped the mark, I said hastily, "Well I just assumed that we were making a..."

"Stop," she interrupted me again, though this time she was smiling. "I want to be with you."

"I always thought you were crazy," I said, shaking my head.

"Yeah. Not as crazy as you though," she teased. "You do realise that I'm the devil incarnate according to House?"

"House is an ass," I said grumpily, remembering his parting shot earlier on.

"I punished him for what he said, you know," she said, smirking at my expression. "He now has double clinic duty for two months instead of one."

Returning the smirk, I said, "Serves him right."

Cuddy snuggled into me. "Definitely."

We sat in silence for a few moments, whilst I racked my brains for something to say. I didn't want to bring up the topic of anorexia, but I had no idea what else there was to talk about. Unless I opened up about my past, my suspicions as to why I was the way I was. It was something I'd given some thought to, and though I still couldn't say for definite why anorexia had chosen me as its' victim, I had some ideas.

"Can I talk to you about something?" I asked, apprehensive.

"Of course you can," Cuddy insisted, stretching out and resting her hand against my stomach, rubbing it gently. Strangely enough, though I'd only just eaten, this didn't bother me too much. A good sign, for sure.

"My therapist asked me to think about why I'm anorexic," I confided.

"Oh?" She said lightly. "And have you?"

"I guess so," I said in reply. "And I don't know for definite why; I wasn't abused as a child, my mum didn't have issues with food, I didn't have a messed up childhood."

"Then what?" She asked gently, still holding me closely.

Allowing the words to leave my mouth for the first time, I admitted, "When I was younger, I didn't... I didn't connect with anyone. I got on with my mum well, I had friends. I was popular. But for so much of the time it was like I was just there. If I was upset, I kept it to myself. I had to be perfect, and problems weren't part of that ideal."

Cuddy remained quiet, processing this information. Then she asked tentatively, "Was your dad around?"

I twirled a piece of hair around my finger nervously. "Yeah. He's still with mum now."

"Do you get on with him?" She pressed me for information.

"We talk," I told her. "But we're not really close. Truthfully, I was never good enough for him. If I got an A in school, it should have been an A star. He wouldn't actually shout at me, but he'd do the whole, "Next time maybe you should revise harder" thing."

"Don't you think that maybe that could be part of why you're like this?" She asked.

"I considered it," I said reluctantly. "But to be honest, I chose to do this to myself. Blaming other people isn't going to change the fact that I'm anorexic."

"No, but talking about it might help you get better," Cuddy told me softly.

"If only," I mused aloud. "If only."