Thanks for reading and reviewing! And thanks to Wrytingtyme for fixing this mess of a chapter not once, but twice! Awesomest beta ever. And yes, I just used "awesomest". :)
Ch. 28
Wilson stood at the threshold to House's room as he took in the sight before him. House had refused therapy and when Wilson tried to talk some sense into him, a bitter argument ensued, which left Mia in tears, Cuddy retreating to Mia's room to console her, and with Wilson walking out. Once home, Wilson crawled into bed and tried to relax. That's when he realized House would probably try to do the same thing without any help. Wilson couldn't lie there, knowing that Cuddy and Mia were together upstairs in Mia's room, while House was alone.
Wilson raced back to Cuddy's place, his guilt beginning to overwhelm him. He'd known before the argument started that House would balk at therapy and that the argument was inevitable. He shouldn't have allowed things to escalate to the point that even Mia had gotten caught up in the argument as she tried to defend Wilson's reasoning, which resulted in House yelling at Mia. Total chaos erupted when Cuddy tried to quell the situation and when House snarled at her about being a doctor and knowing what he needed for himself, that's when Wilson lost it. His exact words were a blur. All he could remember was Mia shrieking as she ran to her room and House yelling something indecipherable. Angry with not only House's stubborn will, but also with his own outburst, Wilson had charged out the front door, slamming it on his way out.
And just as he had imagined, there was House, sprawled on the floor. Wilson crouched down and placed a hand on House's shoulder.
"House," Wilson said.
House turned his head to look at Wilson, frowning slightly. "Thought you'd never show up."
"Anything broken?" Wilson asked.
"No." House paused with a slight grin. "Help, I've fallen and I can't get up."
Wilson snorted as he helped House first into the chair and then from the chair to the bed. He gently lifted House's legs and placed them under the covers. Once House was settled, Wilson took a seat in the wheelchair.
A few minutes passed in silence as House relaxed and Wilson waited for his own heart to stop racing. He tried to appear as calm as possible, but he couldn't deny that the situation had been stressful. It had certainly raised his blood pressure and Wilson imagined if he was feeling that much stress, likely House was, too.
"So, you tried to transfer from your wheelchair to the bed by yourself," Wilson lowered his head. "and I suppose you did that about two hours ago."
House raised his eyebrows, impressed with Wilson's astuteness. "I would have been fine if the brake had been set on the chair."
"I'm sorry," Wilson said.
"Yeah," House whispered as sleep began to take hold. He settled into the bed, turning his back towards Wilson. "I'll go to therapy." He yawned, closed his eyes, and mumbled, "But only because I can't have your old bones lifting on me all the time."
That was the only apology Wilson would get. And he would take it. "I'm going home. Don't do anything stupid before Cuddy's back downstairs, okay?"
"Mmmhmmm."
Wilson watched House fall into a deep sleep before he got up to leave. He scribbled a quick note to let Cuddy know he'd helped House back to bed and that he'd gone home for the night and then he left it at the bottom of the stairs, where either Cuddy or Mia would be sure to see it. He wondered if their lives would ever have any semblance of normalcy again as he got into his car and he chuckled to himself as he thought about how life with House never had that to begin with.
A short while later, Cuddy found the note from Wilson. She knew he'd return, which was part of the reason she'd stayed upstairs in Mia's room, to give them space. She never learned exactly what happened that afternoon. She suspected they were hiding something from her when the only explanation she received was that House agreed to go to rehab.
A month of therapy passed quickly and House had progressed to the point of being able to use a walker. He still refused to leave the comfort and safety of home for anything other than rehab, which left him with little more to do than sleep during the day. He'd watch television, fix a sandwich now that he could stand long enough to make one, and once in a great while, he'd shower.
It was pure bliss to shower alone. He'd actually forgotten what it was like to enjoy the privacy of a closed bathroom door. He knew Cuddy stood just outside when she was home, but he didn't care. He had enjoyed it so much, that three times in the last week, he decided he could shower while Cuddy was at work. It was a momentous effort to get the shower chair into the shower by himself, even more difficult to ease himself into it once the shower head was turned on, and it was nearly impossible to step out and dress himself once he was finished. But for the time he was seated in the shower, under the warm water, without a nurse or even Cuddy looking over his shoulder or giving him a hated sponge bath, it was worth every ounce of exhaustion.
House quickly grew tired of the morning talk shows on television and with the same, old characters on his favorite soap, though he watched that anyway. Occasionally he'd do his exercises, but only when he was alone. He hated to turn around to find Mia watching him with that look. Cuddy got that look, too, though she was better at hiding it. But the worst one of them all was Wilson. House saw it in his tired eyes. He knew Wilson had watched him deteriorate, watched him turn into one of his sickly cancer patients, but House had watched Wilson grow old; he watched the fine lines around Wilson's eyes grow deep. And he felt guilty.
Sleeping so much during the day inevitably led to long, quiet, and sleepless nights. In the beginning, House had stayed in his room during the middle of the night, mostly due to his inability to use the walker in the dark. He was stronger now and for the past week, he'd been able to maneuver the walker in the dark so that he could watch television, on mute, in the family room.
Three nights prior, House clearly heard Cuddy in the midst of a nightmare. By the time he'd gotten to her room, she was sleeping peacefully. The next night, he heard her again and made a mental note of the time. On the third night, he'd positioned himself at her door around the same time the nightmare had started before, and he waited. He stood until he felt too weak to stand any longer and then retreated to the family room. Half an hour later, he again heard Cuddy in the throes of a nightmare and managed to get to her bedroom door shortly before the nightmare was over. He watched her toss and turn, trying to catch what she was mumbling, but as he approached her bed, he realized that her mumblings were only decipherable from deep within her dream.
House decided to change tactics. The next night, he waited for Cuddy to fall asleep. When he thought she was finally in a deep sleep, he crept into her room and crawled into bed beside her, and waited. He was asleep within minutes.
House woke to an agitated Cuddy in the midst of a nightmare. He was reminded of a young Mia, who dreamed of the non-existent monsters in her closet, except she would wake up screaming and in tears. Cuddy shook her head, grumbled something, and turned restlessly.
"Hey," he said, giving her a gentle shake. "Cuddy, wake up."
He rubbed her arm and continued to call her name until she opened her eyes. She looked at him, slightly stunned, and then lightly traced his jaw line with her finger tips.
"You're here," she said. "I…I thought…."
"You had a nightmare."
She visibly relaxed as reality set in. She kept her hand near his face, occasionally tracing an eyebrow or a wrinkle. She needed to touch him; she needed the proof that it was actually him.
Tears streaked her face and House pulled her into a hug. "There's Ambien in the medicine cabinet," he said.
Cuddy shook her head. She stared at his nose, then his eyebrow, so thankful that the dream wasn't real. "Don't leave me," she whispered.
House sighed, settled into the pillows and pulled her in close. He acted like it was an imposition, but he had no desire to go anywhere.
Cuddy mumbled something he couldn't make out. "Huh?"
"Every night," she yawned, "I'd wake up and hoped you'd be here." She smiled a sleepy, teary smile. "I waited for so long."
House kissed her forehead and shushed her. Both were asleep moments later.
"Are you sure you're up to it?" Cuddy asked, as she poured House a cup of coffee. Nearly a month had gone by since that first night back in her room. He'd slept there since, except for the rare night when he'd overworked himself during therapy, resulting in a night spent pacing and doing everything in his power to avoid taking an extra Vicodin.
"I can drop her off and then come back to get you before your therapy appointment."
He gave her an annoyed glance as he stood from his chair. Using the walker, he crossed the kitchen to grab a cookie from the jar on the counter. Cuddy knew better than to fetch it for him; he needed to work the muscles in his legs. He used the cane while at the hospital. The walker was fine at home, where no prying eyes could watch him, but when at the hospital, Cuddy knew the cane was a source of pride for him. He pushed himself to use it from the first day of therapy. Walking with the cane was his personal goa; the therapist would have been satisfied with the use of a walker. It was a small piece of his old life that he had to take back from cancer.
"Not stopping anywhere else?" House asked.
"No."
"Yeah," he said, stuffing a cookie in his mouth. "I'll go."
It was the first time House had volunteered to go anywhere other than therapy. Cuddy was thrilled.
Cuddy pulled the minivan up to the front of the school and Mia got out. She leaned into the passenger side window and placed a quick peck on House's cheek. "Bye, Dad." He rolled his eyes.
"Hey, Mia!" A young and very cute classmate of Mia's called out from the blue sedan behind Cuddy's minivan.
"Hi Jake!"
Cuddy fumbled with her purse, scribbled a quick check, and chased after Mia, waving her hand and calling her name. She had to pause as one of her heels sank in the wet grass.
"Here," she said, when Mia approached. "It's the tuition. Don't forget to hand it in, today's the last day before they charge the late fee."
"I won't forget, Mom."
"Help me," Cuddy said, taking hold of Mia's arm so she could bend down to free her shoe from the grass. From the front seat, House whistled at Cuddy the moment she bent down.
Jake, looked confused. "Did your uncle just, you know, like say your mom was hot?"
Mia turned bright red. She marched up to House's window and leaned in. "You're embarrassing me!"
"Who's the guy?" House asked.
Jake approached the minivan as Cuddy got back into the driver's seat. Mia shot House a warning with a shake of the head and the fiercest death-glare she could manage.
"Hi," Jake said, extending a hand. "I'm Jake."
"Jake," Mia said, "This is my dad, Doctor Greg House. Dad, this is Jake, a friend."
Jake held his hand out for a moment longer before dropping it to his side, upon realizing House had no intention of shaking it.
"I thought he was your uncle?" Jake asked.
Mia glared at House. "It's complicated," she said as she turned towards school with a fistful of Jake's jacket in her hand.
"Bye, Mia," Cuddy called out before turning her attention towards House. "I love you, too, but did you have to embarrass her?"
House watched the school fade into the distance as Cuddy pulled out of the school parking lot, and he grinned.
"That's what dads do, isn't it?"
