Hello everyone!

Here's a new drabble before November gets super busy here...

I was re-watching 7.11 'Family Practice' the other day and was thinking that House and Cuddy could really use a fucking hug. (and so could we) (I mean this episode is one of the best of the series. Emotionally, it's... woah)

I hope you'll enjoy this one. Thank you for reading!

55. You didn't have to ask.

Cuddy followed her mother to the OR, and House followed her.

"You're going into surgery, Mom," she told her before she had to let her go, even though she wasn't certain Arlene was conscious enough to hear her. "They're going to make you all better."

When the doors closed behind the gurney, Cuddy made her way up to the observation deck. Again, House followed her and watched her watch the surgery, pacing in front of the window.

She looked like she was hanging by a thread. Everything in her body language transpired her anxiety; her frown, the way she was curled around herself, shivering with cold – her hair and clothes were still wet with rain.

"Want me to take you back home?" he spoke up then. Cuddy turned to him, a little unsure of her decision.

"I should be there."

"She's in good hands." He trusted Chase, and he knew she did, too. "Besides, Julia will be there when she wakes up."

"I'm sure she'd rather see Julia, anyway," she muttered. House looked at her, and she couldn't resist the prospect of getting some warmth and some rest at home with him and with her daughter. "I want to see Rachel," she yielded.

He opened the door and held out his arm towards her. "Let's go get your stuff."

They headed down to her office, where she picked up her purse and coat and locked the door, before they took the lift down to the parking garage.

Once there, she curled her arm around his own and rested her cheek against his shoulder without a word. It considerably slowed them down, but he felt that the break she needed to take couldn't wait until they were home.

Indeed, after a few seconds, she stepped in front of him and, still holding onto his arm, pressed herself against him, wrapping her other arm around his waist. He held her back, the handle of his cane balanced between his thumb and forefinger. He felt her chest swell against his when she took a deep breath to stop her tears, although that didn't really work.

"I'm so tired," she whispered.

"It's okay. She's getting better."

"God, House, we crossed so many lines…"

"It's over," he assured her as he rubbed her back and kissed her wet hair. "It's over."

"It's over," she repeated, before sniffling a little. "God, what if she'd died? What if I'd lost my mom?"

"You didn't." They heard footsteps behind them and she quickly pulled away from him, magically putting her face back on in the blink of an eye. "You didn't."

She sighed. "No."

He nudged her forward. "Come on, then. I'm driving. How about a warm bath when we get home?"

She held onto his arm again. "I think I just want to go to bed. With Rachel. And with you."

"God, woman. You didn't have to ask."