Chapter 25

After the summer break, they continue in the same manner as before, except that House sees them only every second or third weekend. In between his visits he regularly texts with Rachel, and frequently calls John to ask him about school and friends and his guitar practice. House and Cuddy typically communicate via texts, which mostly revolve around the kids and organizing the weekends. Sporadically, Cuddy calls him from work to ask his opinion about a delicate decision. Likewise, when House has reached the end of his rope on one of his cases, he calls her to bounce ideas.

It feels strange to House that all three of them seem to be looking forward to his visits. He is being greeted with hugs and smiles each time, even from Cuddy, and he cannot help but feel like a lucky bastard who does not deserve this much affection and appreciation.

Cuddy treats him in the way she did before they ever dated. He feels relaxed around her, and enjoys bantering with her. Like old times, he annoys and irritates her occasionally, pushing hard on the boundaries of what she considers 'good parenting', but overall they manage to be at ease around each other. She is kind to him and even tells the kids to back off when she notices that he is in more pain than usual.

House and Cuddy share a slightly awkward moment towards the end of October. He and the kids have been carving out pumpkins for Halloween all day. The weather is bad, and House decides to take Rachel and John to see a movie. Cuddy sits at the table with her laptop, busy with paperwork.

House and the kids are putting on their shoes and coats by the door. Rachel and John are noisy and loud, competing against each other on who can get dressed the quickest. They are so impatient to head to the car that House hands Rachel the keys and lets them rush ahead. They throw their good-byes at Cuddy and are already out the door when House finally finishes tying his shoes. He puts on his coat, and tells her good-bye as well while he warps his scarf around his neck.

She is preoccupied with her work, not even looking up, and says: "Bye, love you."

They both freeze in their tracks. She stares at him with wide eyes, like a deer caught in headlights.

"I-I-I didn't mean…" she stammers, palpably shocked at her own words. "I wasn't…"

He recovers quicker than her, clears his throat, and straightens his face. "I got it. Force of habit." Finding back his motor functions, he puts a knot on his scarf. "I'll see you later, honeybuns." He winks at her, and her face relaxes into a smile.

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Two weeks after that, around mid November, they all sit at the dinner table and discuss John and Rachel's upcoming birthdays in December. John desires to have his own smartphone, but Cuddy objects.

"Everyone in my class has one," John tries to argue. "I'm completely left out of everything."

"I'm sure not everybody has one, and there are other ways to communicate," Cuddy shoots him down.

Rachel joins in the conversation. "I got mine when I started going to middle-school. It would be unfair."

House is decidedly on John's side. "There are probably three kids in his class who don't have one, and those are the looser kids. Next thing you know he'll get pummeled for not being up to date on the latest hot-shot apps."

"You certainly know where to find all the hot-shots on the Internet." Cuddy raises one eyebrow at him. "I just think it's too soon to expose him to all that."

"Oh come on, I'll know his pass code and check his phone regularly to make sure he doesn't get addicted to porn," House brushes her off.

"What's porn?" John wants to know.

Cuddy stares at House, appalled that he brought up the topic.

"It's videos of people having sex with each other," Rachel informs her brother.

"Oh my God!" Cuddy exclaims, staring first at Rachel and then at House. "Did she get that from you?"

House's heart sinks for a second. It is the same feeling he experienced when his mother had caught him doing something forbidden. "She asked me about it, and I explained it to her," he defends himself.

"Oh God," Cuddy utters again, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Look, if you don't talk to your kids about this stuff, they will hear it from someone else," House says, regaining his self-confidence. "And those people might not tell her what I said, which, for the record, was 'Don't watch one until you're sixteen, and even then you probably won't like it, because they're actually made for men without much joy in their lives', they'll say 'It's so cool, here, let me show you.'" He pretends as if he is pulling out a phone from his pocket and showing the display to Rachel.

"Well, for the record, John is not getting a smartphone for his birthday," Cuddy states pointedly. "And luckily, you don't get to make this decision. I do, because I'm the parent!" She presses her hand to her chest, staring at him spitefully.

She rises from her chair, signaling the end of the discussion. She picks up several plates with a loud clatter, and carries them over to the sink. House remains quiet. Not because he is afraid to say anything else—they have thrown far worse things at each other—but because he is actually hurt by her words. She is right, of course: He does not have any say regarding the kids—no custody or jurisdiction whatsoever. If something were to happen to Cuddy, Rachel and John would both be in Julia's care, and he would probably have to fight her if he wanted to continue seeing them.

"I'm going to take a walk," he says, getting up from the table.

"Can I come? I'll take my skateboard." John suggests tentatively. The kids had quieted down during their dispute, and are sitting at the table slightly lost about how to handle the situation.

"It's wet and cold outside," Cuddy cuts in. "I don't want you getting sick."

House and John share a quick glance. They both silently agree not to argue with her.

"Why don't you practice on that song some more?" House proposes to John. "If you can play it fluently when I get back, I'll do the second harmonic."

John nods.

House takes an umbrella and walks around the block for ten minutes, then he sits in his car for a while, ruminating on her words.

When he returns, he joins John in his room, and they play guitar together. At some point, Rachel comes in and sits on the bed with them.

"You know the song?" House asks her.

She nods shyly.

"You wanna sing along?"

"Only if you sing with me."

He gives a huff, one corner of his mouth turning up. "All right. Let's go from the top."

The three of them make music together until it is time for bed. Rachel already has ideas for the next songs she wants John to learn, and the evening ends more harmoniously than House thought it would.

As the kids get ready and into bed, House lies down on the couch with his headphones on, watching a Spanish telenovela to distract himself. At some point, Cuddy walks up to him.

He ignores her until she pulls the plugs out of his ears rather forcefully. He sighs loudly to demonstrate his annoyance, and pauses his show before he turns his head to look at her.

Cuddy's face is stern, but apologetic. "I'm sorry I snapped at you. I do want to hear your opinion. It's good to have someone else to discuss these things with."

He nods at her, accepting her apology. "It's just not my opinion you really want."

She raises her eyebrows at him, not knowing what he means.

"You took off your wedding band." He juts his chin towards her left hand. He had noticed the missing ring right after she hugged him hello last night.

She seems surprised for a second, not having made the connection between the abandoned ring and her irritable behavior. When it dawns on her, her eyes start to water. "It's been a year," she whispers. "Last weekend." She swallows hard. "Since he died, I mean."

"Why did you take it off?"

She looks up at the ceiling and then to the side, shrugging her shoulders slightly. "I thought it was time. I need to move on." Her tears are rolling down her cheeks.

"Has that ever worked for you? To force yourself to move on?"

She exhales slowly and looks forlornly at her bare ring finger.

"When people say they want to move on, I think what they actually mean is they realized that they are stuck," he muses. "Doesn't mean they know how to get unstuck."

She looks at him again, a desperate expression on her face. "Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

Now it is his turn to shrug. He has no idea how to make her feel better. She is crying because of another man. One who was good to her and her kids. One who probably always knew what to say to her for comfort.

In a very quiet, very insecure tone, she asks: "Would you hold me?"

He stares at her in surprise. Out of all the things he might have come up with, this would have been one of the last items on the Cuddy-comfort list.

A thousand words fill his mouth simultaneously. All the options of what he could say sound wrong in his ears, though.

"I'm sorry," she inserts, interpreting his silence as reluctance. "That's too weird, right?" She holds up her hand as if in need to defend herself. "I wasn't thinking…"

He moves onto his side, and holds up the blankets for her.

She hesitates for a moment, and opens her mouth to brush off the whole situation, but shuts it again. Exhaling deeply, she steps forward, crawling onto the couch and under the blankets with him such that her back rests against his chest. He drapes one arm loosely around her waist. The other is tucked under her neck, bent at the elbow, so he can hold onto her shoulder.

He smells her shampoo and feels the warmth radiating from her body. His heart is speeding up, and he knows she will notice, so he distracts her with his voice. "What I was trying to say is: Why rip off a band aid when you know that with enough sweat and showers and baths, it will eventually peel off easily?"

"You're saying I should just wait 'til my ring falls off?" she asks, laughing mildly through her tears.

"The moment will come, maybe five weeks from now, maybe five years from now, when you'll look at it and realize that you already have moved on. And it won't hurt as much anymore, to take it off."

He feels her trembling and hears her sniff her nose.

He lets her cry for a while. "Don't be so hard on yourself," he murmurs eventually, his thumb caressing her shoulder.

She stifles a laugh. "Have you met me?"

He smiles.

"You know, you do keep surprising me, House," she says after a few moments, wiping at her eyes. "Did you attend a class about giving comfort?"

"I'm trying to ignore the insult in that," he says, half in jest, half in earnest. He knows he may not have always said or done the right thing, but he had always attempted to be there for her. At least when it was important; when she had really needed him.

"Hm." She thinks for an instant. "Maybe you were always good at it, and I just got better accepting it. Or asking for it." She pulls the blankets more tightly around her. "I did actually want to thank you. For coming here, you know, the first time around. To my rescue."

"You already thanked me."

"Yeah, but I didn't really see the whole picture back then. I was such a wreck. Last weekend, I thought about where I was a year ago. Where we were, as a family, and I realized just how vital it was that you showed up. I cannot even imagine what would have happened if Rache hadn't called you. If you hadn't come."

"Well, I was somewhat responsible," he admits. "I busted away your walls. Both literally and figuratively. I owed you."

She turns her head and moves the side of her body into him so she can see his face. "Is that why you came? You felt guilty?"

He pauses briefly, pondering her question. "No. I came because Rachel asked me to. I know what it's like to not know who else to call."

She swallows at his words and looks at him sadly. She fleetingly touches his cheek before she turns back into her original position, settling firmly against him. He feels her searching for his hand, so he untangles it from the blankets and intertwines his fingers with hers.

"I heard you sing with the kids before," she murmurs, sounding tired. "It was beautiful."

"Rache has a great voice."

"Yeah. So do you."

They hold onto each other for a few minutes before she stirs in his arms and groggily mumbles: "I'm drifting off. I'm gonna go to bed."

"All right," he says, releasing her from his arms and lifting up the blankets for her to climb out.

She wishes him a good night and squeezes his shoulder as she makes her way past him.

"Good night, Cuddy."