Gregory House was wide awake in the early hours of dawn, the only light coming from the green numbers of the alarm clock. It wasn't set to go off for another forty-five minutes, but being awake long before he truly had to get up was nothing new.
He was all too aware that the other side of his bed was empty.
On more than one occasion, when he spent the night at Cuddy's and now vice versa, he woke up to find her arms wrapped around him. House knew she intentionally waited for him to fall asleep to do that since she knew he didn't like to be touched unless the mood struck. It was annoying as hell at first, but gradually the doctor welcomed her warm body embracing his. The only gripe he had about it now was the challenge of untangling himself from her grip without waking her up.
Looking over at the empty pillow, he wished Cuddy was there, wearing his tee shirt, her arms around his waist.
He had dreamed about her again.
What had he done to deserve someone like her? Whatever it was, he was glad he did it.
House closed his eyes and kicked off another Stacy box.
The fear that Cuddy would leave had diminished a bit. The fear would always be there, hiding in a dark corner, but right now he could safely say that she wasn't going anywhere for a while. She had always been there to help, whether he deserved it or not. She had gone well out her way to make sure he remembered that promise. For the moment he let himself believe she would never see the need to keep it.
He had dreamed about her again.
Another dream of Lisa Cuddy, as stupidly simple as the first. Yet here he was, replaying it over and over again, admiring every color, straining to hear every sound.
This is just too fucking surreal, he thought and chuckled.
Two dreams in a row. His life would hardly be a disaster if there was a third.
See you tomorrow, Dr. House.
In a few hours it was back to being Dr. House, the man who hates the world and everyone in it. The man who pops Vicodin like breath mints, hates clinic duty with a passion that burns like a supernova, and thinks nothing of insulting a patient to his or her face and whoever else happens to be in the room.
And he hates his boss, Dr. Cuddy. He hates her because she actually wants him to do his job. He hates her because she has power over him. He hates her simply because he can.
Oh, if they only knew...
The other side of the bed was empty. He wished Lisa was with him because he didn't want to be Dr. House just yet, he wanted to be Greg.
Damn it all to hell. Why did you send her away, idiot? the doctor thought. Just so you could be all alone and analyze everything to death? Well, you got your wish. Are you happy now?
No, he wasn't happy at all.
Faint light was making its way to the windows. Cuddy should be up by now. He wondered if she dreamed about him.
The alarm buzzed. The sound made his skin crawl. Christ, he hated that damn thing. Several times he had to restrain himself from smashing it against the wall. He only kept it around for the rare occasions when he slept more than five hours and when he was perturbed because the woman he loved didn't have her arms wrapped around him.
Cuddy was almost always at the hospital before him. Hopefully he could get her alone for a few minutes. He wanted his liquor back, and he wanted to know if she had any requests she wanted to hear.