Thanks everyone for the kind comments!

Chapter 41

Cuddy enters her home on Friday afternoon, running a little late. Quick footsteps pounding the hardwood floor are approaching. Rachel comes to a halt in front of Cuddy, her face of excitement turning into confusion. "Where's House?"

"He can't be here today, honey." Cuddy sets down her purse and shrugs out of her jacket.

Marina trails after Rachel. "Hey Lisa. Made an early leave today?"

"Yeah, sorry I'm late. I know you have plans. I really tried to–"

"Where's House?" Rachel interrupts her.

Cuddy looks down at her daughter. "He's still at the hospital. He has a patient." She pulls her checkbook from her purse and starts to scribble. "Here's this month's check," she pulls it off the pad and holds it out to Marina. "I added a bonus."

"That's really not necessary," Marina protests, holding up her palms.

"It's not the first time you jumped in. And I highly appreciate it. I really do." Cuddy thrusts the check at her, and Marina gives in.

Rachel tugs at Cuddy's shirt. "But Mom, he said we'd play superheroes today."

Cuddy sighs.

"I have to go," Marina slips on her sneakers and pulls her jacket from the rack. "Have a good weekend."

"You, too." She holds the door open for the babysitter. "Bye. And thank you."

"You're welcome." Marina lowers herself to Rachel. "Bye bye, little bug. I'll see you Monday."

"Bye," Rachel dismisses her, still pouting over the fact her Friday play night with House got cancelled. "Then can we go to the hospital?"

"No, honey." Cuddy bends down to rid herself of her shoes. "House wouldn't have any time for you. He's trying to figure out what's wrong with a little girl who's sick." She walks down the hall to her bedroom and steps inside to change.

Rachel follows her on the heel. "Can't he work on that tomorrow?"

"The girl is really really sick, Rachel. She's been in the hospital all week and she's getting worse. He needs to find out tonight what medicine to give to her."

"What happens when he doesn't?"

Cuddy pauses in the midst of pulling on a sweater and frowns at Rachel. She thinks it's too soon to try and explain the concept of death to her three-year-old. "He will," is what she says to deflect.

To Cuddy's relief, Rachel drops the topic because her attention shifts to Cuddy's uncovered belly. She walks up to her mother. "Your belly's so big," she giggles, and places her tiny hands on Cuddy's bump.

Suddenly, the baby starts to kick, and Cuddy laughs out. "I think your brother recognizes your voice." She brings Rachel's hand to the place she just felt the movement. "Here." They wait for a moment, then there's another jolt. "You feel that?"

Rachel bobs her head up and down, smiling widely at her mother.

"That's him saying hi," Cuddy smiles back.

"Can we call him Wally?"

"What?"

"House keeps calling you that, but I like it. Like WALL-E, that robot."

"Pffft," Cuddy huffs and rolls her eyes. "You wanna name your brother after a robot?"

"He's a cute robot."

Cuddy shrugs. "It's not my decision anyways." She pulls her sweater over her head and mutters to herself, "What was I thinking?" Adjusting it over her belly and brushing it down, she adds, "I was definitely on medication."

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

She is in bed, fast asleep, when the phone on her night stand buzzes her out of her dreams. She squints at the display. It's Masters. "What is it?" Cuddy asks groggily.

"Cardiac arrest. We lost the patient."

"Hmgh," Cuddy expresses her regret, her hand coming up to cover her eyes.

"We still don't know what caused it. Or the seizures."

"And you're calling me cuz House is trying to convince the parents of an autopsy?" she guesses.

"He's bullying them. They're still in there with the dead child. The mother's crying, the father's yelling…"

"Put him on the phone." Cuddy hears a glass door open and close, then Master's dimmed voice as she tries to convince House to stop the dispute and take the phone.

"What?" he barks eventually.

"House, step out of that hospital room right now!"

"Or what? You gonna make me? You're not here."

She snorts. "Because if I were, I'd be using my superhuman physical forces?"

"Your stare says you might. It's certainly more intimidating than your squeaky screeching over the phone."

"House, they've just lost their daughter," she tries to reason with him. "Do you have any idea what it's like for them imagining their child being cut open? Her brain taken out, her lungs, her heart…?"

"I need to know! You want this to happen again?"

"No. But you can't do anything for her or anyone else right now. Give them some time. I'll talk to them tomorrow."

"It might not be traceable tomorrow. If it was toxin or any other–"

"Then it won't help anyone else in the future. Plus, I'm sure you drew plenty of blood."

House remains quiet.

"Go home. Take a bath. Go to sleep. The answer might still come to you, even without the autopsy."

"Too late for her."

"Yeah," she nods, closing her eyes in defeat. "I'm sorry."

He hangs up.

LLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL

The next day is a Saturday, so she takes Rachel to the hospital with her. She leaves Rachel with Nurse Regina, and heads in search for the dead girl's parents. As she expected, they are still hovering outside her hospital room, unable to leave this place and head home without their daughter.

Cuddy's throat tightens as she approaches them. Their grief radiates from them. Her voice feels scratchy as she expresses her condolences. She feels like shit bringing back up the autopsy topic, but she tactfully reminds them that the same fate for similar cases in the future can only be avoided if they figure out what lead to her death.

They eventually concede, and Cuddy makes a quiet exit. She tries to call House on her way back down to the clinic, but he isn't answering his phone. She leaves him a message.

By ten o'clock, she still hasn't heard back from him. She is in the midst of preparing for a trip to the park with Rachel, cutting up vegetables and fruit in the kitchen, and decides to ring Wilson.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Have you seen House? Or talked to him?"

"Last night before I left. Why?"

"His patient died."

"Oh."

"I can't reach him."

"He's probably just turned off his ringer, unhooked his phone…" She can hear the concern in Wilson's voice in his attempted reassurance. "He barely slept the last couple of nights. I doubt he even went home."

Cuddy pinches the bridge of her nose. She should have anticipated House's anguish. Despite his vehement negations of any form of emotional connection to his patients, and although he treats any such implication as if it were an insult, she knows how invested he is and how much he cares. "This is his first dead patient since Hanna," she mutters, unable to suppress her worry.

"You know what, I'll stop by his apartment and check on him."

"Okay. Thanks, Wilson."

"I'll give you a call."

"Great. Bye."

"Bye."

LLLLLLLLLLLLLL

They have just arrived at the park when her cell phone rings. Cuddy digs through her purse, which rests in the passenger's seat.

"Wilson?"

"He's not here."

"What?"

"I asked the landlord to let me in, so I could check on him. I'm not sure he even went home last night. His bike's gone."

Cuddy tries to quench her panic. "Where else could he be?"

"I have no idea. Strip clubs and bars aren't still open."

Cuddy remains silent, unable to form a coherent thought.

"I'll make some calls, see if I can find out more."

"Okay." She bites down on her lower lip. "Is it too soon to call the police? Or other hospitals?"

"The police won't start looking the first, I don't know, was it twenty-four or forty-eight hours?"

"Why do you wanna call the police?" Rachel asks from the back seat.

Cuddy glances back over her shoulder. "It's nothing, honey. We're not calling the police."

"I'm sure he's fine," Wilson states. "Just… have fun with your kid. He'll show up. He always does."

"Okay," she replies, unconvinced. "Let me know if you hear anything."

"Of course."

They hang up.

During the next hour, she keeps dialing House's number. She sits on a shaded bench underneath a tree while Rachel plays on a jungle gym. After what feels like the hundredth try, someone picks up at the other end of the connection.

"House?"

"Hi," a female voice says in a subdued tone, and Cuddy's stomach drops, "Dr. Cuddy?"

"Yes."

"This is Alina."

Cuddy swallows hard. "Where's House?"

"Passed out on my couch."

Cuddy is speechless for a moment. "Is he okay?"

"He's had a little bit of a setback last night."

"A setback?"

Alina pauses for a few seconds. "I don't think it's my place to tell. I just picked up because I saw you tried several times and figured you must be concerned."

Cuddy huffs. She feels anger rising up from her gut, but she realizes it is more at herself and her lack of control over the situation than at the person on the other end of the line. "Well, thanks for being so deliberate," she says coolly and with a hint of sarcasm before she disconnects the phone.

She writes Wilson a brief text to inform him of House's whereabouts.

For the next half hour, she sulks in her anger and jealousy.

Then Rachels falls and scrapes her knees, and Cuddy is distracted from her thoughts. They head home, and as Cuddy tends to her daughter's wounds, her feelings of hurt give way to sadness.

A pang of guilt hits her as she recalls how she had handled the situation last night. She hadn't even offered him to come to her. He had clearly been upset. And again, she had told him to deal with his grief alone.

She prays it was only booze and not Vicodin this time.