A/N: Short update, and sorry for breaking it up. This session is pivotal in this story, but it gets long, life is nuts, and this is simply all the time I have at the moment. More when I can.
(H/C)
She looked relaxed.
That was House's first impression after the hypnosis. It was rare for her to look truly relaxed, but right now, she was obviously in a different zone. More focused, as Patterson had said, but without the administrative worry, the constant multipoint agenda as she juggled several responsibilities.
He still couldn't believe that she was actually going through with this. Her decision was the only thing that had restrained him a little when, before getting started, Patterson had asked him to keep quiet. "It works much better to focus just on one voice as questioner, Dr. House."
"So you'll just ask her what you want? How scripted is this?"
"It isn't," Cuddy had insisted.
"Why can't I be the one to ask her all the questions?"
"You wouldn't be that calm yourself," Jensen had said. "She'd pick up on that. Ruth is a better choice here, but you will be hearing everything. And if you have a question that isn't being asked, write it down."
He hadn't liked that, handing over his inner thoughts written down to the other doctor. Not that she wouldn't have heard them anyway if he had been the one asking questions, but still . . .
"Please, Greg," Cuddy had said.
In the face of her own bravery, he couldn't hold out on the technical point on his own behalf. He had yielded with a wordless grumble and a half nod. Patterson also had wanted them to stop holding hands, which both of them were a little reluctant to do, but again, she said, it would be a distraction, feedback coming through the fingers that he would be unable to prevent.
Then she had gotten down to the actual hypnosis. She did use a focal point, though not the stereotypical swinging pendulum that he was half expecting. Cuddy had looked both tense and worried going in, no doubt concerned that she might not be a grade-A hypnotic subject. He knew she always was a little focused on the idea that someone else was critiquing her performance in all aspects of life.
But there was no question that it had worked. Her eyes were shut, but there was a calmness now about her, alert but without the usual tension, that he had never seen.
Patterson spoke, her voice calm and absolutely steady. "Dr. Cuddy, you do not have to answer any of my questions. If there is anything that you do not want to reveal to us, simply say, 'I don't want to answer that.' Do you understand?"
"Yes," she replied promptly.
"Why did you read your husband's pain diary?"
"I was hoping that there was information there about how much sex hurt him and if there were any ways that made it better."
"Were you at all dissatisfied yourself right then with your love life?"
"No."
"Have you ever been dissatisfied with your love life with him?"
"No."
"So your thoughts were fully concern for him?"
"Yes."
"How long have you wondered about his leg during sex?"
"Since his infarction." House sat straight up at that one, and Patterson glanced at him.
"You were not in a relationship with him then, were you?"
"No. But I wanted to be." House grinned.
"So you were fantasizing?"
"Yes."
"Did his disability make the fantasies less than satisfying for you?"
"No. Nothing about sex with him has ever been less than satisfying for me. I just hoped that he wouldn't be in much pain during sex for his sake." Cuddy paused and interrupted herself. "But there was one time I wasn't satisfied."
House tensed up. "When was that?" Patterson asked.
"After the man trying to assassinate the president scared me. I hurt him then."
"Did that make your wondering about his leg's response to sex worse?"
"Yes, much worse. I couldn't stand the thought that I had hurt him. I wondered how often I'd hurt him in the past, and I wanted to know what I'd done and what specifically made it worse."
"Did you ask him that?"
"Yes, several times. But not as well as I could have."
"How could you have done that better, Dr. Cuddy?"
"I should have emphasized that I wasn't unhappy at all. I was probably too sharp and focused on his leg in the questions instead of on us."
"Do you think it would have made any difference?"
"I don't know." A shadow drifted across Cuddy's face. "He doesn't talk to me about his leg. I don't know if I could have changed how he took it. It might have still failed anyway."
"Why do you want him to talk to you about his leg?"
"To give me details and to bring it down to size. It's just one part of our relationship. I feel like he makes it more important than it is by not talking."
"Is it the most important part of your relationship?"
"No."
Her tone was rock solid, unshakable. House was spellbound himself, the paper he had been given for questions lying neglected so far in his lap.
