A/N: Watching lots of House inspires lots of House fic. :) Takes place at the end of Sports Medicine, sort of. House/Cuddy angst.
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em. But I'd love to meet them.
--
"Everybody does stupid things. It shouldn't cost them everything they want in life."
"No, it shouldn't. But it usually does."
After all, it had cost her him, hadn't it?
Whenever she was feeling utterly selfish, she would blame it all on him. But when she really thought back to it, she couldn't quite remember who had started their fight. Or even what it was about.
All she could remember was wandering the streets, freezing cold because it would've ruined her wonderful door-slamming exit to go back in and grab her jacket. She remembers that the bar smelled awful and was far too dark and smoky and crowded for her taste. She remembers that she accepted the drink offered to her by a man who was faceless to her back then and even now. And she was glad that it seemed to lessen her claustrophobia. So she accepted a second drink.
And a third.
And a fourth.
Until she finally lost count. By that time, her words ran together in nearly incoherent sentences that only halfway made sense. She was feeling a little light headed, and when the faceless man led her out of the building, she had to take off her heels because she could hardly walk as it was.
She doesn't remember anything past that, but the next day is still very well cemented in her memory. She awoke in a stuffy apartment, lying in a too-small bed with a man she didn't recognize. She left quietly, in last night's wrinkled clothes and walked back to House's place, shoes in one hand and the other pressed to her forehead, trying to quell her pounding headache. She remembers hardly making it through the front door before he spotted her. He'd been there waiting, ready to ask a spiteful, sarcastic "How was your night?"
His words hurt in more ways than one. She winced as they momentarily intensified her headache and her conscience began scolding her for betraying him. Shaking her head, she'd tried to walk past him, aiming for the medicine cabinet. He stepped in front of her, holding her back with a hand on each shoulder, eyes boring into hers.
She looked away, and he knew.
He sighed, stepping aside to allow her access to the bathroom.
She spent far longer in there than she needed to. After swallowing a couple of aspirin dry, she'd perched herself on the edge of the bathtub, face in her hands, desperately trying not to cry.
When she finally emerged, she found him sitting calmly on the sofa, staring intently at the blank television screen. He didn't turn to look at her when he spoke. "I'll be gone all day tomorrow."
She sighed, nearing tears once more. Her voice was shaky, despite her attempts to hide it. "Can't we-"
"No." His voice was quiet, but it was firm. There was a pause before he continued. "Be sure to come and get your stuff."
She left, crying silently as she walked the frozen streets back to her apartment.
Just like that, it was over.
With that one horrible, stupid mistake, she'd lost everything she'd ever wanted.
And somehow she knew that she would never get it back.
--
End