spoilers for "Humpty Dumpty"
unprecedented
xxx
The last day Alfredo stays in the hospital Cuddy watches him having lunch with his younger brother. She thinks that the common agreement on her being addicted to guilt might not be so far-fetched, as topics go, while she watches through the glass window and walls (this is a hospital without shelter, raw, exposed); fascinated by the growing skills of his left hand, grabbing the spoon and bringing it to his lips, faltering a bit from time to time, but definitely more confident than the previous days (oh, yes, Cuddy has watched this ritual before).
His brother, Manny, sits by the edge of the bed, watching as enthralled as Cuddy, with a mixture of compassion, disgust and shame on the corner of his lips.
xxx
Cuddy knows many things.
She knows the routines well, she still retains the theory as she was a newly graduated; she still can name fever, chills, cold, cough, fatigue, chest pain, loss of appetite, nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, headache, sweating and intolerance to light are the most common symptoms of psittacosis, she can recite them without blinking. That hasn´t helped Alfredo one bit. She still fell one step behind.
He wasn´t an exam.
She also knows that remembering, from the yellowish pages of her first year textbook, the seven classes of viruses from the Baltimore classification doesn´t make you a real doctor.
Or doesn´t make you a real doctor anymore.
She knows that one year from now she won´t be able to remember Alfredo´s little brother´s name. It burns her, the knowledge. In a year it all will be a diffused pain in her left side every time his face -a face without name, a face she can´t place exactly, knowing she should- creeps upon her, treacherous. It´s like the scars of wounds we can´t remember -like the scar below you right knee you got from falling off you bicycle when you were four, but you can´t remember any of this.
You care about this kid, Stacy had said.
Well, yeah, that´s why you started him on activated protein C, because you couldn´t find a more dangerous and inadequate drug to show how much you care, an annoying voice in her head keeps saying. Cuddy is not surprised this voice seems very much like House´s.
xxx
She is amazed he hasn´t thrown any jabs at her about his breaking –well, not so much breaking, she admits- and entering. It makes her nervous, edgy. Until one day…
"I went through your cds." Nonchalant, like he was commenting an article from the newspaper. "Sheryl Crow, uh? You are such a girl."
Cuddy looks up, waiting for the next blow to fall.
But House stops there.
She watches him debating with himself; she can almost feel him refrain from commenting anything about the floral pattered decoration, the oh-so-girly fresh cut flowers on the table.
She can´t remember the last time he has hold his tongue: it might as well be unprecedented. The notion makes her uncomfortable, the exact same feeling as when you buy clothes of bad fabric and your whole body itches if you wear them.
xxx
There are things Cuddy doesn´t know:
The real reason House refuses to torment her any further about the home invasion (and he could, House reflects, stoic and amused, from the red –they seem red to me- thongs to the very WASP choice of wallpaper colours to the stack of magazines about furniture she hides under the tv set):
He noticed there were two toothbrushes in her bathroom.
But he also noticed that one of them had never been used.
xxx
"Administrating human activated protein c is highly risky, even in the cases of 100 right diagnostic," Wilson says, trying to sound careless while they are reviewing the paperwork.
Cuddy can´t really get mad at him; not just because he is right but because it certainly sounds better when Wilson says it. Nicer. If there was a medical specialty in being nice Cuddy is sure he would have graduated top of his class. That´s why she doesn´t trust him.
But she appreciates the help.
Being a good doctor makes a lot of paperwork; being inefficient brings on even more,
"You shouldn´t worry, House does this kind of stuff all the time." The tone is meant to be reassuring, but it makes her feel like one of his patients.
"House gets sued all the time," she offers.
How much is one hand worth? How much being capable to find work? How much future? Cuddy knows there´ll be a settlement but for once, for a moment, for one bright second she wishes there´s a trial, and the hospital loses.
xxx
"Next time don´t try to be me," he says, examining the couch, like he wants to sit, but finally deciding against it, just patting it gently with the cane.
She is going through some cases; she keeps Alfredo´s on the bottom, so she doesn´t have to look at it, but she knows it´s there, waiting for her somehow.
House ponders her lack of reply; come on, this is not funny unless we both play, he mentally urges but she seems quietly distressed. Tired, defeated.
"Are you going to cry?" Houses asks, in the exact disgusted tone anybody else would ask are you going to throw up all over me? "I´m not going to hold you. I didn´t attend that Care and Support course you so eagerly recommended me."
Cuddy almost smiles at his horrified voice. It´s always about you, isn´t it? she thinks, wanting to grab him by the shirt and throw him out of the room.
But for a moment he seems pensive, very suddenly.
"But I can call Wilson. He is a great hugger."
As he goes for the cell phone Cuddy starts laughing.
"But then again he doesn´t enjoy other people´s misery as much as I do. And-" he looks away, massaging his temples as he´s suddenly struck by headache. "…and he´d probably end up making me tell you that, even without all those mistakes you made, we wouldn´t have diagnosed the patient on time –which would be both useless and very awkward for the two of us."
And it is. Cuddy doesn´t know about useless-
-she doesn´t feel better, in any case, but there´s something swelling under her ribcage at the realization that he thinks it´s not her fault.
She knows about awkward.
It threatens the delicate balance she has constructed –they have constructed. The only thing that makes it possible to handle House is that he is predictable. That he would choose to give her a modicum amount of power, even for the brief time he is almost pitying her, almost thinking about saying "i´m sorry" though he doesn´t mean it; that is very unsettling.
He walks to the table and pours a glass of water. For her. That is not unsettling; it´s downright alarming.
Then she realizes.
"You know?" she examines glass of water, tilting it sideways a bit, like pondering something very important. "Your concern would be so much more touching if it weren´t for the fact that you had to be in the clinic ten minutes ago."
She sees House do that thing with his lips; not an actual smile, because Cuddy doesn´t think she has ever seen him truly smile, without irony or spite, but the gesture of someone who is trying to remember how to smile, but not trying that hard.
"Ten minutes. Cuddy, you are so slow."
"And you are a kid."
xxx
Of course-
…the next time she sees Wilson he stops her in the middle of the hallway and, in front of a variety of very surprised and very young oncology students, he hugs her. Awkwardly, and not offering any explanation.
He ends the embrace as suddenly as he started it, walking away, the very surprised students following a couple of steps later.
Cuddy smiles and thinks again House, you are such a kid.
xxx
And then there are things Cuddy thinks she knows but she doesn´t.
House, on the other hand, is pretty sure that, one year from now, she will remember Manny´s name.
