Thanks for the wonderful reviews! They are all exceptionally wonderful and keep me motivated! :)

Sorry for the lack of update, for I have started a new job and had no choice but to focus on that. Tonight was my first day off in a week! Wow. Nothing like coming home from vacation and going right to work! But anyway, here's a sort of longer chapter than the last.

Enjoy :)

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Cuddy awoke first the next morning. She guessed she fell asleep while attached to House, because she woke up in the same position. Her arm was around him and it hurt from being like that all night. Slowly, she took her arm back so she wouldn't disturb him. She got out of bed without waking him and went out to the living room to fetch some of the hair care products and body washes she received as gifts last night. Someone, not sure who at the moment, got her a razor and shaving cream also. She needed a shower. All the crying last night made her face stiff. When she got into the bathroom, there were dozens of noticeable dry trail marks made from the tears that drew the length of her cheeks.

She hurried up with the shower, did what she needed to do, and stepped out. The entire time in the shower, she thought about House. Why all of a sudden was he being this great guy? She had never seen him like this. It's almost like he cared. That wasn't House at all.

Could he really love her as he said he did? Cuddy was almost frustrated at that. She gripped the sides of her sink a little tighter than necessary and closed her eyes with a sigh. Just what was going through his mind? Was he playing with her? Was he pitying her? He couldn't love her. Not House. He's not capable of love. At least not since Stacy. Cuddy cussed when she felt tears well up in her eyes. She blinked them back before they had a chance to fall. She wanted House to love her. She wasn't sure how deep she wanted him to love her, but she did. She knew she loved him, even though he was a manipulative bastard who acted fifteen more than his own age. There's no way he was mature enough.

But Cuddy wasn't after perfection. She understood that in a relationship with House, things wouldn't be the same as they would be if it was a different couple. He would still be a sarcastic jerk that she wanted to slap around on a daily basis. But she would be happy. She didn't need to have brought flowers home to her every night or to be spoiled with material possessions. She just wanted to cuddle on occasions and be loved. And she wanted that from House. As confusing and messed up as that would seem, she did.

She was in love with him, even though he could revert right back to being a jerk at any given second.

Cuddy couldn't stop the tears. They came anyway. Being in love with House only set her up to have her heart broken. He could never commit to her. Either he didn't want to, or he couldn't. Whichever way, it wasn't going to turn out good.

Cuddy hung her head and cried softly, tears falling into the sink. She really shouldn't be thinking about this right now. She had so many other things to worry bout. Way too many. This is just an added on stressor.

She turned the water on cold and splashed her face. After, she wiped her face and then went into her bag to pull out a brush that she brought back from Hawaii. Instead, she pulled out the spider conch shell that House had given her on the island. She smiled at the memory. He even wrapped it up in leaves like a gift. She held it close to her, suddenly wishing that she was on the island again with him. She loved being there with just him, alone, in the cave by the fire, snuggled together and talking about anything. It's like the real world wasn't there with them. No one else existed but them. All their problems vanished into thin air. They only saw each other.

She set the spider conch shell down in her bag and stepped back into the bedroom. House was still sleeping. He was facing the other direction on his side and snoring lightly. It was only seven in the morning and too early to be up. Besides, this is the first time House was in a half way decent bed. He needed to sleep. Cuddy watched him for a moment or two more and snuck back into bed to be with him for a little while longer. She spooned him from behind, snaking her arm around his chest and holding him to her. She rested her head up against his back and suddenly felt sleepy. She heard him breathing, as well as felt his upper back move along with it. It was the most comforting feeling to her. He was so warm and at peace.

She didn't realize she had fallen asleep until she opened her eyes again and saw House sitting at the edge of the bed, rubbing his thigh and wincing in pain.

"House." Cuddy shot straight up. "Since when did your leg start to hurt again?" she asked, expressing heavy concern.

"Since now. Woke me right up."

Cuddy's heart sank to see him in such pain. He was doing so good.

"Does this mean you're going to be back on Vicodin?"

"If that's what it takes for the pain to go away, yes," he half snapped, not meaning to. "And I'm fine by the way, thanks for asking."

"Maybe it's just the way you were laying on it," she suggested.

"I wasn't laying on it," he harshly spat.

"House, there's no reason for you to snap at me. I'm only trying to help."

"Yeah well you're not."

Yes, this is how it was going to be. There was no fairytale endings in this world. At least not in the lives of Lisa Cuddy and Greg House. However, she wasn't going to stop trying to help him. She got closer to him and rested her hand on his shoulder carefully. She just wanted to be near him.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"You can stop trying to help me, for one," he said, cringing in pain afterwards.

"House—"

"Cuddy, just leave me alone!" he yelled, surprising even himself with his tone.

Cuddy knew that was the pain talking and didn't find herself too surprised, nor did she recoil away from him. Her hand remained on his shoulder, which he promptly shook off after that.

"I don't want or need your help," he followed and stood up slowly, grabbing his cane. "I'm going home."

Cuddy felt the severity of this weigh her down. Not that it should surprise her. House didn't want help. He was in pain. The only thing he wanted right now was for the pain to go away.

She remembered the last time she tried to help him. Well, one of the times. She ended up with a long wound down her side when she came in contact with a tree. He would always yell at her when she wanted to help. She doubted he would shove her against a tree or do anything else violent if she continued to be persistent.

So she would continue to be persistent.

"You're not leaving, House."

She was easily able to stay on top of him due to the fact he was unable to walk quickly. House's body temperature and blood pressure rose when he felt her hands on him and the pity roar into swing.

"Let go of me," he said, trying to keep his angered tone to a minimal.

Cuddy knew it was because of the pain he was acting this way. He didn't want to bother her with it. He could never take pity very well. He hated it when someone felt sorry for him. There's nothing else in this world that bothered him more than that. Knowing it was Cuddy's heart that was swelling at the moment, he wanted to be as far away as possible.

This is just what Cuddy feared this morning in the shower. There were no happy endings in this relationship. If she couldn't get House to open up and accept help, there was no hope for them.

"Don't be this way, House. Please let me help you."

The more sorrowful her voice was, the angrier he got. He loved her, but as much as he loved her, he hated it when she wasted her time feeling sorry for him. He didn't want her to feel sorry for him.

His leg was throbbing. He wanted nothing more than to be in the privacy of his own home so he could deal with alone, pushing out all the good memories and events he had with Cuddy. Last night, he said he wouldn't give up, nor would he ever leave her. That's exactly what he was doing right now. He was walking out on her, as well as giving up, and he couldn't see that. His pain always overrode his logical way of thinking.

"I can't be what you want. You don't need this disappointment."

Tears welled up in Cuddy's eyes. She had a feeling he would say that. He was giving up. Whether he did this in the heat of the moment with his leg hurting, or if it was on his mind the entire time and it just decided to come out now.

"I'm not disappointed. I love you, House," she said, tear falling from her eye. "Let me help you."

Cuddy was practically begging. She feared that he would walk out of here and do something stupid, starting with ODing on hidden stashes of Vicodin once he got back to his apartment.

"I'm going home." He moved forward, escaping her touch. If she kept her hands on him any longer, he would implode.

"How?" Cuddy challenged.

"Wilson, how else?"

Cuddy sighed noisily. She was selfish to keep him here if he didn't want to be. "Fine, House, if you want to go home, I'll take you. Just let me change first."

House wanted to counter with something sarcastic, like her having no visible license to drive, or keys to drive the car with, but his pain kept his comments to himself.

"I'll call Wilson," he muttered and limped painfully out of the bedroom.

If that's what he wanted to do, she had no say in the matter. He was back to his old self again and it was all because of his leg. It was incredible how something like that could change his entire view on things overnight.

Cuddy sat at the end of her bed and threw her face into her hands. She had high hopes for House. Perhaps they were too high if she had this much disappointment running through her.

This was also a bit about her as well. She hasn't been alone at all since the night before the ill-fated trip to Japan. She had seen more of House in the two and a half months they were together on the island than she had in the past twenty years combined. She couldn't handle being alone now, even though she had been more than half her life. But it was selfish to put her needs before his and had to put it out of her mind. If he wanted to go, he should be able to go.

Cuddy left the room and sat House in the living room picking up the gifts he got last night. She stood in the doorway. He glanced to her, but said nothing.

"Did you call Wilson?" she asked.

"Yes," he snapped, shoving the smaller items into a bigger bag.

If he did, Cuddy would've heard him make the call from her room. She didn't hear anything except for him limping into the living room.

"House, just let me take you home. I have a spare set of keys in my top bureau drawer."

Things were awkward now. Very awkward. She felt like she was talking to a stranger. This was House. It's been House for years. She grew accustomed to the House that said he loved her and built up hope around that. She was an idiot for doing so.

But there was more to it than that. He was upset with everything that was going on and using his leg pain as an excuse to feel angry and distance himself. He was always in pain, but didn't feel angry like this. House was good at managing pain, but bad with managing the difficulties in life. He was willing to walk away from the one he loves just because he didn't know how to cope. Cuddy realized this. She should've realized it sooner.

"You're scared, House," she said after a long pause and a no answer to her driving him home. He collected his things, acting like she wasn't there.

He chuckled, but no humor came from it. "Scared of what?"

"I don't know, but it's making you want to run away. I know you're feeling stressed and helpless—"

"You think you know me all too well, don't you?!" he yelled after throwing a bottle of something against the wall, smashing it into smithereens and causing an abruptly ended sentence from Cuddy. "You think that just because we spent so much time together, you have the right to tell me how I feel!"

Cuddy's mouth fell open in surprise. "That's not true!" she said back, tone almost matching his.

"Then why the hell are you always telling me what I'm feeling?! You have no idea!"

His face grew red with anger and the whites of his eyes had small little veins running through them. Cuddy saw that the closer he got. He was in physical pain as well.

"I just want to help you," she said, tears building up in her eyes.

"I don't want your damn help," he hissed, coming within inches from her. "Just because we were forced to be together on that island doesn't mean we have to come back here and resume it. You're nothing more than eye candy to me, Cuddy. A friend with benefits."

Cuddy felt her limbs turn to jelly. Her heart sank to the deepest pit of her stomach. Suddenly, her hand had a mind of its own and slapped him across the face without her acknowledgment. "You bastard," she whispered, tears falling from her eyes. He might as well have called her dirt at the bottom of a shoe. Her body grew hot and anger washed through her. "Get out of my house."

She spun around and left, heading back to her room. She slammed the door upon entering and threw her back against it, sobbing quietly. This wasn't something she wanted to add to her issues list. She wanted to be able to lean on House for support, as well as he with her. She had never seen him like this. He never talked down to her like that before. He would say her ass was huge or her wardrobe was too revealing, but he was always joking around. This felt too serious. He really meant what he said and that hurt. Cuddy was in a no win situation with House. One minute the man says he loves her, promised to help her through the events of her family and whatnot, and now he was being his old self with a few add-ons. He couldn't cope, so it was easier for him to throw away one of the only two people in his life that actually care about him, one that would give him the world, even if he didn't ask for it.

Her hand still stung from the slap. That's when she finally realized she hit him and felt bad about it. She didn't even know she did it at the time. His words were too busy sinking in for her to become aware.

She knew he didn't mean those things. He was just looking for the right nerve to pinch. Why? She had no idea. It was easier for him to manage the pain and cope when there wasn't anyone there to care about him, evidently. Cuddy knew she wasn't a master on House, but knowing him for as long as she has, she picked up a few pointers on the way. She knew all she needed to realize that underneath it all, he was afraid. Instead of hitting him and calling him a bastard, she should've let that blow by her, even though it hurt. It always hurts when it comes from the mouth of someone you love. Cuddy's reflexes responded before her intellect.

She loves him. There's no question. She's loved him for years. There's nothing she wouldn't do for him, even if he couldn't admit it all the time that he loves her back. It was there and that's good enough for her. They just had to get through these rough times together to make it work. And right now, she was wasting time standing against her closed bedroom door, sobbing and feeling pity towards herself.

She left her room to head back to the living room. House wasn't there. She looked in the kitchen, bathroom, everywhere. There was no sign of him or his things.

He was gone.

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House wasn't too far. In fact, he was just outside the door, sitting on the front step of the house. Cuddy discovered this when she went to look out her window just after it sank in that he left. She grabbed a robe from her bedroom and hurried back to open the door. He didn't turn around when he heard it open.

Cuddy stepped out into the beautiful sunny morning and sat beside him. They were the only ones in the area. The rest of the street was free of people, as well as vehicles. This wasn't an odd thing to see on a Sunday morning at nine o'clock. People were at church or sleeping in. There were the occasional runners here and there, but they come out around seven and end around eight. Cuddy is sometimes one of them. That's one of the things she vowed she'd get back into once all this mess was sorted out.

"Nice day," Cuddy said in a low voice, looking out ahead of her.

House was fiddling with something in his hands. Cuddy glanced over to see it was the Blackberry.

"You should get that activated."

House still didn't say anything.

"Talk to me."

"I don't feel like talking."

"House, if you view me as only eye candy, whatever, it doesn't matter. I still want—"

"What?" he interrupted, finally looking over at her. "What do you want to do? If you say help me, you can leave my sight this instant."

"But I do! House, even before the island, we were friends. In some weird way, we were. You were a part of my life. I didn't stop caring about you then and I'm not stopping now." She placed her hand over his arm.

House didn't say anything right away. He didn't shake her hand off, which was promising.

He sighed. "Christ Cuddy, you could have anyone you want. Someone who could make you happy. Someone normal without unremitting leg pain. Why the hell are you wasting your time with me?"

Cuddy's eyes widened a few centimeters. "Is that why you're being like this? House, I care about you. I love you. Hell, if you asked me to marry you right now, I'd say yes." She enlaced her fingers with his. "I don't need perfection."

He looked at their hands and squeezed it a little tighter.

"I don't deserve you."

Cuddy chuckled and grinned. "For better or worse, you got me. I'm not going anywhere. And neither are you by the looks of things," she said, speaking of him sitting on her front stair.

"Because I have no means of travel," he said a bit on the sarcastic side.

Cuddy just smiled and leaned her head against his arm, hand still in his. She was quiet for a little over a minute before speaking again. "I'm sorry I hit you." She looked up at his cheek and noticed a red mark.

"You better be. That didn't tickle, you know."

Cuddy reached her head up and kissed the part of his cheek that was hit.

"How's your leg?" she asked.

"Hurts like hell. It's only going to get worse if I don't have Vicodin."

"You were so wonderful on the island without being in pain."

"I know. But at least on the island I had a distraction."

His eyes met hers. She frowned a bit. "Is that why you slept with me so many times? So you could fate the pain?"

He evened his head out, looking at the street ahead of them. "Way to jump to conclusions."

"Well what other "distractions" could you be talking about then?"

"We were in the middle of nowhere and I was sick. Isn't that enough of a distraction?"

"You were sick two days before we were rescued. What about the time before that?"

He sent a frown her way. "What do you want me to say?"

"How about the truth, House. Did you only use me for sex? I don't care if it was your way of dealing with the pain, I just have to know." Her eyes and tone were sad. He could see that. He was slowly fucking things up with the only person who could ever give a damn about him. Was he doing that on purpose? Did he really want her to leave him?

"No," he said, voice barely audible as he looked away. He had the sudden urge to flee again and went to get up, but Cuddy held him in place once she saw this. He sighed. Cuddy was desperate. She needed to know where they stood and things going unanswered were slowly eating at her.

She wrapped her arms around him from the side, but said nothing. She hoped their closeness would bring something back. Anything.

"If I only slept with you on the island to distract myself from the pain, we'd be in bed right now," he added in a matching tone.

There was no doubt in Cuddy's mind that part of the reason they slept together so much was because of his leg pain. She knew the difference between sex and lovemaking. There was plenty of sex, but there was also a good share of lovemaking. It was him opening himself up to her. He was free on the island because it was just them. Now he had to come back to the real world where it's him, her, and millions of other people. He didn't know how to open up and found himself screwing it up more and more.

But if there's one thing House knew that was the same then and now, he loved her. It came out freely before when they were together on the island, and then yesterday in the heat of the moment. Funny, loving Stacy came so natural. He was sure of his feelings, as well as her feelings for him. With Cuddy, he knew she loved him. He saw it in her eyes at every given moment of the day. There's nothing she wouldn't do for him. So how come he couldn't admit his feelings to her all the time? Why did he keep lying about the meaning of their sex, leading her to believe he only slept with her to get relief? He always twisted the truth into something worse. Did he want to push her limits? Did he want to test her to see if one day she said she loves him, but if he fucks up, she won't love him anymore? Or Did he just want to push her away because it's so much easier being alone? It was so hard for him to feel hurt. No one knew that of him, but when Stacy left, a part of his heart was broken off. He promised himself he wouldn't ever love someone else and putting Cuddy through this rigorous ordeal wasn't fair to her. Here was someone who was willing to love him for everything he was worth. There's nothing she wouldn't do for him. He was aware relationships that were formed because of dramatic events were doomed to fail. Cuddy wouldn't love him right now if it weren't for the island. Or at least that's what he thought. They would just go on being employer and employee with him checking out her ass and questioning her wardrobe. Now, they both wanted something more. Cuddy knew what she wanted and presented to him with it. How would he show her he felt the same way?

Cuddy was wonderful. There's no one on this planet like her. She's gorgeous, funny, smart, and can put up with him. That's where he fails to see why she would want anything to do with him. Maybe she's just as alone as he is. She's married to her job and didn't have much time for a social life. But she wouldn't just say she loves him for kicks and giggles. She really did love him.

He also put his arm around her and laid his head against hers as it rested on his shoulder. If he didn't want to lose her, he better straighten up and fast.

He kissed the top of her head. "I do love you, Lisa."

A small smile crept onto her face and a warm, fuzzy feeling overwhelmed her heart. "I love you more, Greg."