Hello! Here is a new one. It is also set in season 7. I hope you'll enjoy it!

On a quick note: I'm back to uni tomorrow (:() and I'm not yet sure how much free time I'll allow myself to have this year. I have still have a few 'drabbles' waiting to be published though, so you'll hear from me soon... ;)

72. Don't cry.

Cuddy was crying.

It had been a difficult day at work. Long hours, one administrative catastrophe after the next. She'd gone home on auto-pilot, taken care of Rachel and put her to bed, showered and slipped on her pyjamas.

Now that she was alone, she allowed the stress of the day to come out in liquid form, sitting on the edge of the bed with the bedside lamp on.

Well, alone, save for the tall silhouette of her boyfriend standing awkwardly in the doorway.

She always cried quietly, he thought. He'd seen her tears after she had lost Joy; they'd streamed down her face as she sat motionless in the baby's room. He'd also seen a few tears escape her when he was recovering in the ICU after Wilson had left and she thought he couldn't see her.

Tonight was no different. A few tears rolling down her cheeks. Her stare lost in the distance. A sniffle from time to time.

Before then, he hadn't been expected to do anything about her tears. They had pained him, which he'd dulled with Vicodin, but overall he'd been relieved that he wouldn't have to do anything about it.

But now that they were dating, she certainly expected more from him. And he held himself to a higher standard, too, to be worthy of her.

"Come on, don't cry," he tried, only earning a glance from her. He realised how lame his words were the second they left his mouth and he mentally kicked himself for it.

After a few seconds, he took a deep breath and sat next to her, timidly rubbing her back.

"Want a tissue?" he asked. She showed him the tissue box next to her. "Wanna talk about it?"

"Oh, you were there."

"I was told it helps." She kept silent. He tried again, wanting more than anything for her not to be sad. "Wanna watch a movie?"

She sighed a little. "I know you're not good at this," she said with more patience than he'd expected. "But right now I don't want to have to decipher what you do, what you say, in order to conclude 'Oh, that's House for caring about me'. So if you could please just shut up and hold me."

He froze for a few seconds, surprised, before he wrapped his arms around her. She turned to him more and huddled against his chest.

"Just hold me tight like that." Then, she added in a whisper, "I like when you cradle my head." Which he did.

He was taken aback by how touched he was to feel the tremor of her cries against his chest. It had been a long time since he'd truly held someone he loved for comfort.

Cuddy looked up when she felt moisture in her hair. "Are you crying?"

"No." He hastily wiped his cheeks and averted his eyes.

She rested her cheek against his chest again, realising that he was crying with her. And that meant more than words or an embrace.