at Steve: Who said that was the end of the story? Wouldn't leave you hanging like that ;-)
Due to the ban of social contact and the fact that the chapter was basically done already, you're getting it earlier than usual. Enjoy!
Btw, thanks for all the nice comments. There is nothing more rewarding than appreciation.
Chapter 33: Rachel is Missing
On a Saturday night in March, House wakes up at two AM because his cell phone is vibrating on his nightstand. He went to bed early, but is still groggy with sleep when he gropes for it blindly. "Yeah?" he asks without looking at the display.
"House!" It is Cuddy. Her voice is strained, and he sits up in bed, immediately concerned: She never calls him at this hour. "When was the last time you heard from Rachel?"
He wipes his eyes, trying to think. "Sometime this afternoon?! Why?"
"She should have been home two hours ago. I can't reach her." She sounds seriously upset. "An hour ago, I at least got a dial tone, now it's going straight to her voice mail."
"Let me check if she texted me." He puts on his glasses and looks at his display. He finds no absent calls or new messages. "No, nothing. Where did she say she'd be?"
"At a party. From that DJ guy. I told her to be back by midnight." Cuddy's voice is shaking. "This isn't like her, House."
"What do you mean by 'be back'? Did you let her drive?"
The silence on the other end tells him 'yes'.
"Are you insane? You let her drive to a party on a Saturday night?" He cannot believe the idiocy of it.
"She is always bugging me about how I spoil all her fun, and I thought it was actually the safest bet," Cuddy defends herself. "She wouldn't drink and drive; not after she just got her license and the car, she's not that reckless!"
House rolls his eyes at the ceiling, but realizes that blaming Cuddy was not going to help them. "Did you try calling her friends?"
"Yeah. The ones I reached are all at home or at their friends' places. Sarah said Rachel was upset with the DJ guy, and disappeared at some point." Cuddy swallows. "She also said she saw her drinking," she adds in a small voice, her fear ringing through.
House runs his thumb over his forehead. "Do you have DJ guy's address? Maybe she is still there."
"Yeah, of course," Cuddy breathes. "He actually left me a card at my party, the little snob. Why didn't I think of that?"
"You're hysterical," he says as he hurries out of bed. He puts her on speakerphone and starts to get dressed. "Blocks all rational thinking. Text me the address, I'll drive over there and check. Maybe I'll at least find her car."
"I'll go. I need to do something."
"No. You stay," he orders. He does not want her driving in her state of distress. He knows how poorly she deals with crises concerning family members. She would probably end up in an accident herself. "In case she comes home in the meantime," he reasons with her. "Call the parents of the friends you didn't reach."
"At two in the morning?"
"If one of them called you in the middle of the night because their child was missing, would you mind?" He grabs his cane, his coat, and his car keys before he heads out the door.
"Yeah, you're right." She seems to be near tears.
"And check her insta, and that of her friends. Maybe you come across a picture that'll give us a hint."
"I already did. There was nothing in the last three hours. But I'll check again." He hears her rummaging around, shifting papers. "Here, I found the address."
He turns his keys in the ignition. "Okay, shoot." She spells him the street and he types it into his navigation system. "All right. I'll call you as soon as I know anything."
"Okay."
He pulls out into the street and is about to hang up. "Is Ethan there?" he asks in an afterthought. Not to torture himself, but because he wants someone with her.
She hesitates. "No." Her voice is quiet.
"Why not? I thought that's what B. F.s were there for. To hold hands in rocky times. Be useless."
She sighs. "Things haven't been going well, lately. I told him to go home."
"Huh." He considers telling her that he was sorry, but it would be a flat-out lie. He tries to reassure her instead. "No need to freak out, yet. She is probably back on the dance floor and forgot the time. Get a grip."
She sniffles her nose. "Okay."
He hangs up.
When he arrives at the address, the house is illuminated, but nobody opens the door for him. He spots an integrated camera by the doorbell. He goes around back and forces his way in through an open window. He is clearly unwelcome. Inside, there are many under-age people drinking, and several glance at him with hostility, probably worried he might be a threat to their fun and call the cops. Weaving his way through the crowd, he is glad he is the one here and not Cuddy.
After checking several rooms, he finally finds the host of the evening. He is dancing with a girl about Rachel's age. House steps up close and interrupts them, tugging hard on the guy's shoulder. "Where's Rachel?" he yells at him. The music is loud and droning, drowning out all other sounds.
"Who the hell are you?" DJ guy tries to brush off House's hand. His eyes protruding and red rimmed, obviously having had too much to drink. The girl scatters away from them.
House digs his fingers into the guy's shoulder. "Just answer me, you son of a bitch. Use the part of your brain that is not already soaked in alcohol. She was here! She was supposed to be home by now."
"Are you her dad?" he grins goofily. House lets go of his shoulder and almost punches him in the face. Instead, he clenches his left fist and his jaw, letting out an angry breath. "She's not here, dude. Haven't seen her in hours."
House is aggravated by the guy's nonchalance and indifference. He grabs him by the front of his T-shirt and pulls him close. "Think again!" he barks at him. "What did you do to her?"
"I didn't do anything, man." He seems less chill and more scared now, putting his hands up in front of him innocently. "We made out, that's all."
House stares him down and tightens his grip.
"I swear, man. She got pissed cuz I made out with one of her friends." He shrugs his shoulders. "I haven't seen her, since. I assumed she'd gone home."
House pulls out a pen and grabs the guy's arm.
"Woa, you gonna stab me, man?" His eyes grow wide, and he tries to pull out of Houses' clutch.
House closes his hand more tightly around his wrist, and starts to write on his lower arm. "This is my number. If she shows up here again and you don't call me, or if I find out that any of what you just told me was B.S., I will push this through your eye socket." He holds up the pen. "Are we clear?"
The guy nods, all coolness eradicated.
House turns away from him and walks around for a while, hoping to run into one of Rachel's girlfriends. He soon realizes the futility of it, though: Girls look so different in tight clothes and heavy makeup he would not recognize any of them.
He returns to his car and drives around the neighborhood, hoping to catch a sight of Rachel's Sedan. He is without any luck, though, and calls Cuddy.
She picks up after the first ring. "Anything?" she asks with apprehension.
"No. The little shit says he hasn't seen her for a while. That she was upset. Swears he didn't touch her."
Cuddy sighs exasperatedly into the receiver. "I knew he didn't have a good influence on her." He hears the desperation in her voice. "Shit! What are we gonna do?"
"Call the local police, report her missing."
Cuddy inhales sharply.
"They might have picked up her license plate somewhere. If she was in a radar control or involved in an accident tonight, they would have it registered." He is concerned as well and wants to cover all the options. "I'm on my way over to you, taking the route she'd take. I'll keep an eye out."
"Okay." She hangs up.
He arrives at the house without any sight of Rachel. Cuddy opens the front door the moment he pulls into the driveway, probably hoping it might be Rachel. She holds the door open for him, grief and sorrow written all over her face. "Nothing?"
He shakes his head as he walks past her and takes off his jacket. "I'm assuming LPD was no help, either."
She shakes her head. "They said they'd notify me as soon as they have any news."
"Have you checked the hospitals within a twenty mile radius?"
Cuddy nods. "I called them all. No unidentified female teenager with dark hair was admitted tonight."
"Did you check John's phone? Maybe she texted him."
"I didn't want to upset him, he's asleep."
"You don't have to wake him up to check his phone."
"You have his pass code?"
"You don't?" He looks at her incredulously.
She seems somewhat shocked. "I want my children to be able to trust me."
House shakes his head. "Trust is good, control is better. They should be able to trust you to be in control of the situation, which is much more helpful." He walks towards the hallway. "I'll go check." The idea gets his hopes up, but they are swiftly crushed: He finds nothing on John's phone.
When he returns to the living room, Cuddy is still standing where he left her, her head buried in her hands. It is after three am, and she looks exhausted. She drops her hands when she hears him return, but quickly reads from his face that he came up empty handed. She shakes her head in frustration. "I shouldn't have let her drive," she blames herself. "We were fighting. As usual. I told her I didn't want her dating that guy, that he was a player."
"Bad taste in men…" House muses. "You think that's hereditary? Oh no, wait, that's not possible…" She glares at him and he stops badgering her.
"I thought maybe if I cut her some slack, be a cool mom for a change…" Her head is hanging low and she bites her lip.
"Stop wallowing in self-pity. It's not helping anyone."
She glares at him angrily. "I don't see how your genius ideas have brought us any further."
He bows his head in defeat.
"I'm sorry," she says, backing off. "I'm just… What else can we do?"
He swallows hard and shakes his head. He hates being this helpless. "We wait."
Cuddy bites down on her lower lip and turns away from him, hugging herself around the waist. He can tell from her posture that she is crying.
"It's not your fault," he tries to appease her. "You know that."
She shakes her head. "She started calling me 'Lisa'," Cuddy utters, sounding hurt and defeated. "As if I wasn't even her mother anymore." He sees her hand reach up to wipe at her tears.
House slowly limps over to her and stops mere inches behind her. Although he refrains from touching her, she senses his presence and turns her head, locating him out of the corner of her eye. To his surprise, she accepts his offer of comfort and closes the distance between them, shuffling backwards until her back collides with his chest. He drapes his left arm around her waist, his hand coming to rest lightly on her right hip.
"What if someone hurt her?" she whispers, sharing her worries with him. He feels her ribcage rise and fall with her breath.
"Then you lick her wounds while I retaliate," he deadpans. "Don't worry, I'll make it look like an accident."
"What if she lost control over the car, and she is lying injured in a ditch somewhere?"
"Someone will find her and help her."
She takes in a deep breath and holds it for a moment. Almost inaudibly, she utters her greatest fear: "What if she's dead?"
He has no more words. There is nothing he could do. Death has always been his enemy; that what he feels most helpless against.
She turns her head sideways so he can see part of her profile. "House, I couldn't take it." Her voice sounds desperate and cracked, and he feels her body trembling. "It would break me."
He leans his cane against the wall so he can wrap both arms around her and pull her more tightly against him. "I wouldn't let it," he murmurs. He drops his head low, his lips almost touching her forehead. "Or we'd fix you. Me and John. We know where all the pieces go."
She draws in a shaky breath and clings to his arms. Her trembling increases as she fights hard not to burst into tears.
"But I'm sure she's fine," he tries to calm her, his thumb caressing her upper arm. "Ninety-five percent of the teenagers reported missing show up again within forty-eight hours." He has no idea about the exact statistics, but he knows that the number is high and ninety-five sounds reassuring. "Come on," he says, stepping away from her and rubbing her back. "I'll make us some tea."
They sit on the couch and sip their tea while they wait for Rachel to come home. At some point, Cuddy drifts off to sleep, her head resting on the back of the couch. House is not surprised, given that she has been up all night; he has at least had four hours of sleep before she called, and he, too, feels exhausted. He shifts her into a lying position and covers her with a blanket.
About an hour later, he hears a car outside, which is unusual in this neighborhood at five AM on Sunday morning. He gets up swiftly and limps to the front door. A heavy weight lifts from his chest when he recognizes that it is Rachel. She parks her car next to his and he walks up to her, pulling her door open. "Are you okay?" he blurts out, looking her up and down. She is upset and in tears, her makeup smeared all over, but seems otherwise unscathed. "What's that smell?"
"I'm okay," she stutters, her lower lip quivering. "I threw up in the back seat."
"But you're not hurt?" he presses out. "And you didn't hurt anyone?"
She shakes her head and starts to cry. "I was just stupid."
"Let's talk inside," he says, leading her out of the car and guiding her to the front door, his hand on her back. "I'll take care of the puke later." He takes her keys from her and locks the car. "Your mom's asleep on the couch. I suggest we sneak past the dragon and go straight to your room."
"How upset is she?"
House glances at her briefly, raising his eyebrows. "We were worried."
They enter the house quietly and tiptoe into Rachel's room.
"So, where the hell were you?" He is not angry with her, just relieved that she is safe.
She sits down on her bed. "I had a fight with Jason. He made out with Jesse, and when I confronted him he acted like it was no big deal. And my friends didn't seem to bother, either. I was upset. I had some beer." House hands her the tissue box from her desk and sits down next to her. "Nobody cared!" she cries, her tears rolling down her face. "So I left. I went to the car and sat inside. I was angry and didn't want any of them to find me, so I drove a couple of blocks down. I know I shouldn't have, but I just needed to get away. Then I parked the car and threw up. I was so embarrassed. I didn't really know what to do. I thought I'd just wait until I sobered up."
House obviously had not searched the neighborhood carefully enough. "Your mom has been trying to reach you all night."
"I didn't want to talk to her. I didn't want to admit that she was right about Jason, and that I'd been drinking. I fell asleep. My phone was dead when I woke up again." She buries her face in her hands and starts to sob. "It was all so stupid."
House puts his arm around her shoulder and pulls her against him. "It was. But at least you're okay." This makes her cry even harder. "Come on, it's not that big a deal. Nothing serious happened."
"Mom's gonna kill me," she sobs.
"I'll talk her out of it," he jokes and squeezes her shoulder several times. "Brush your teeth. Try to get some sleep."
"Okay," she sniffles and calms down a little.
"Rache?" he pulls back so he can see her face. "Didn't we have a deal that you'd call me when you were in trouble?"
She averts her eyes, more tears falling down her cheeks.
"I have my cell on vibrate at night," he continues. "Allowing incoming calls from you, John, and your mother."
She nods. "I'm sorry."
"It's okay." He gets up and pats her on the head. "Teenage drama. I feel like I've ended up in an after-school special. I was always very into those." He winks at her and heads towards the door. On an afterthought, he turns around again and adds: "Stop calling her 'Lisa'. It doesn't make you sound more mature. On the contrary, actually."
Rachel presses her lips together and lowers her eyes. She does not say anything, but he thinks he got his message across, and leaves her alone.
Back in the living room, he sits down on the couch next to Cuddy and rubs her arm. "Hm," she hums as she wakes up, blinking her eyes at him. She seems disoriented for a split second before the events of the night come crashing back over her.
"She's here," he tells her.
"What?" Cuddy sits up abruptly.
"She got here ten minutes ago. I sent her to bed. She's fine."
Cuddy turns straight from relieved to angry. "Where the hell has she been?" She tosses back the blanket.
"She had a little bit to drink, parked her car down the street, fell asleep… Everything's okay."
"Everything's okay?" she asks sarcastically, swiftly getting up from the couch. "Why the hell didn't she call me?"
House tries to remain calm. "Maybe because she was afraid you'd react like this?" he suggests. There was really no point in her making a scene now.
"I need to speak with her," she says decidedly, turns on her heels and storms towards the hallway. House hurries after her and catches her right hand with his left, swirling her around to make her face him. "How is that going to improve the situation? If you start yelling at her now?"
"House, she needs to know that this is unacceptable! She can't just disappear like that, without leaving me a message or picking up my calls."
"A: I'm sure she knows that, and B: you can still tell her that tomorrow. When you've cooled off a little."
She glares at him angrily. "Cooled off? Don't you think she should know how worried I was?"
"She already does, and it's not her job to give you a worry-free life." House raises his voice as he tries to talk some sense into her. "She's a teenager! She's supposed to push her boundaries, get drunk, come home late. If you can't handle that, it's your problem!"
Cuddy looks shocked at his statement. "And it's my job to put her back inside those boundaries; keep her in line. I'm not enslaving her! She has more freedom than I ever did. There are rules, and they are for her protection. I need her to stick with them!"
"You are asking too much of her!" he throws in her face, his voice close to shouting. "Stop trying to turn her into the perfect daughter. So what if she screwed up a little? She's already scared and feeling like shit. If you go in there now and dump all your anger and disappointment over her, what do you think she'll do next time, when maybe she is in real trouble? Don't you want her to turn to you for help?"
Cuddy stares at him, considering his words, and falters to give him a retort.
House takes in a few measured breaths and turns off fight mode, relaxing his shoulders. "She needs to know that you're on her side. Always. Even when she doesn't follow your blueprint to the T. Especially then!" All the while he has not let go of her hand in case he needed to stop her from storming into Rachel's room, and he rubs his thumb over her knuckles, trying to appease her.
She closes her eyes, all anger and tension leaving her body. "I was expecting a call from the morgue every second tonight, asking me to come down and identify her body." She can hardly speak, and when she lifts her eyes to him, they are about to spill over with tears. "I already saw her name on the headstone next to Michael's." Her voice is almost inaudible. She hangs her head, shaking it from side to side. She looks lost, defeated, and immeasurably tired.
"I know," he murmurs, pulling on her hand. "Come here."
Her eyes skim over his torso while her face starts to fall. She steps closer to him, and the first sob escapes her lips before her head hits his chest. She buries her face in her hands and completely unravels leaning against him. House puts his left arm around her as she cries uncontrollably, her sounds muffled by her hands and his shirt.
After a minute, he sees the door to the hallway open quietly. Rachel appears behind it. He is not sure how much of their conversation she overheard, but her expression carries sadness and guilt. She approaches them tentatively until House lifts his cane and gestures for her to return to bed. 'I got it,' he mouths to her, nodding at her reassuringly.
Rachel chews on her lower lip, the corners of her mouth turning downward, but she complies with him and leaves the room soundlessly.
Cuddy continues to cry as if her heart was breaking, her body shaking with each sob. She frees her arms that have been wedged in between them, and wraps them around his neck, clinging to him as if for dear life. House can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he has seen her like this. He attributes her outburst not solely to her fear for Rachel and the events of the night. All the grief that has been accumulating over the past months is pouring out of her: Her failed attempts at dating, the difficulties and fights she has had with Rachel, and the strained relationship they have had since they slept with each other.
She cries and cries with seemingly no end to her tears. He eventually drops his cane to the carpet because there is nothing around to lean it against, and cradles her head with one hand, stroking her back with the other. She feels tiny in his arms, and way too bony. On every quivering inhale, her ribs jut out and press into his stomach.
He wonders if maybe she needed him more than he thought. He was certain she would get past this. That she would find herself another Michael and be fine.
He rocks her from side to side. Dipping his chin low, he tries to come up with something comforting to whisper in her ear. "Cuddy…" he murmurs on an exhale. Nothing else comes to his mind.
Oddly enough, his attempts to soothe her seem to have an effect: Her breathing eventually begins to turn back to normal, and, after another minute, the sobbing stops.
She holds him close while she takes several measured breaths, then she pulls back slightly. She wipes her nose on the back of her hand. "God, I cried all over you," she sniffles, her fingertips jittering over his damp shirt like butterflies.
"That's cool. They match now. Rachel already covered the other shoulder." His hands travel to her hips and rest there lightly. He is unwilling to let her go just yet. "She knows she screwed up," House points out gently. "Go easy on her."
Cuddy nods and looks up at him, her bright-blue eyes big and watery. "Thank you," she whispers. "For keeping me sane tonight."
"Did I?" he asks, mocking her playfully.
"Hm." The corners of her mouth lift up briefly.
"Go to bed," he mumbles. "Get some sleep."
"Yeah." She wipes at her cheeks, and they let go of each other. "Stay here if you want." This is the first time she offered him this since her birthday last year.
"Thanks, but I'll head home. Gotta take care of something."
She raises her eyebrows.
"I'll take Rachel's car. Don't worry about it." On an impulse, he kisses the crown of her head before he picks up his cane and heads for the door. "Call the police and let them know they can stop looking."
"Right." She nods.
He grabs his jacket and glances at her one more time before he closes the door behind him.
