Floating

Chapter 18

"So, Cuddy." He wheeled awkwardly, facing her. "I think I'm as good as I'm going to get her, so you can go now."

"House. First of all, I'm not leaving you like this. Second, we had a dinner date." What was she saying.

"Yeah, well I don't think I can do dinner tonight."

"No. You can't. But it doesn't change…"

"Cuddy, I don't need this."

"Yeah, actually, I think you do. I know how much you hate this…"

"I don't think so…"

"You're right. I don't. Not exactly. I can't even begin to imagine what you're feeling right now. I do know that it sucks. But I also believe that what happened last night…" God, she thought, was it only last night? "…what happened last night…meant something to you…to both us. And I'm not going to ignore it and pretend that it didn't happen or that it meant nothing just because…"

"I can still be your donor, if that's what your worried about. That part of me, I think is still functional."

"Look, House, I didn't want to do this now. I need to get you home."

"Dr. Cuddy to the rescue. I don't need rescuing."

"You did two hours ago. What were you planning on doing? Passing out from the pain at your desk? Let the team find you tomorrow morning, half dead and in shock?"

"I don't…Look, Cuddy, I'm fine now. I just…"

"You are NOT fine. That Demerol is going to wear off in a couple of hours."

"Great. Give me the kit. Wrap it in a doggie bag."

"You know I can't do that."

"Oh that's right. You think I'm a…what was it that you said to me a couple of months ago? On the road to being a junkie? I forgot."

"That's not what I mean! I don't…" He did not want her see him like this. He did the best he could to stride away from her, furiously shoving the conference room sliding door open. He paced the darkened room as he felt his life float away from him to a place just beyond his grasp. He picked up a random mug from the sink, slamming it against the bookcase, listening to it shatter before collapsing into the nearest desk chair.

He sensed Cuddy there, standing on the threshold between the two rooms, looking appropriately worried. He hated her for the pity that would be in her eyes. He hated himself more for putting it there; for this emotional display; his lack of control.

Cuddy watched him. She knew that whatever she said or did could be twisted and misconstrued. So she just watched him. For the moment. She closed the sliding doors, staying close, but on the other side. More than anything right now, she knew that House needed time alone. He would hate it, her hovering. So she just let him be as she stood vigil.

An hour passed, more or less and House finally looked up into the darkened conference room. He knew that Cuddy must be somewhere nearby. The Demerol had made him queasy and he scouted the room for the wastebasket just in case. He stood, a little dizzy, and scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. Leaning heavily on the cane, he sighed, and walked back into his office.

Cuddy had switched off the lights and was sitting in his chair, waiting. "I need to get you home." Her voice was soft. Firm, but not argumentative.

He looked down at her through weary, bleary eyes. "I know"

They took her car, traveling the short distance to his apartment in an uneasy silence. House was too subdued, she reflected. He was deep inside himself. Cuddy wasn't comfortable with that, but she knew she needed to allow him the space.

Pulling up in front of his building, he finally turned to her. "Don't come in with me. Please. I need…"

"I know. But I need to come in with you."

"I'm fine."

"You are anything but fine." Her tone tried to convey understanding, thinking she'd failed at that. She tried for honesty. "House. I am terrified right now. Terrified that you'll reject what we began last night. Terrified that I'll lose you to the darkness that I now feel you surrounding yourself with. Terrified that…"

"Terrified that what? That your boy toy will off himself if not under guard? This a suicide watch, Cuddy? I absolve you of both your professional and personal responsibilities towards me. I hereby promise not make friends with nearest razor blade. You don't have to worry. You can go home now."

"I don't want to." Her words were barely above a whisper. He stormed from the car, getting up too fast. He reeled from the dizziness that he had been feeling all evening, stumbling into the foyer. Cuddy was faster, unwilling to allow him to lock her out, following him into his flat.

House steadied himself against the front door, leaning back heavily into it. Not having seen Cuddy enter behind him, he flung the cane across the room, knocking a pile of books from a low shelf. He slid to the floor, silently sobbing in the darkness.

Cuddy approached him quietly, unafraid. She crouched at his side and held his head to her breast and wept for them both.