His biggest mistake was not realizing how much this pregnancy meant to Cuddy. Of course, he now knew, and of course, it was too late. Now there was nothing he could do but be angry at himself for being too blind and stupid to see it. Hindsight was always 20/20, and hindsight always came along a day late and a dollar short. A lot of good that did.

They leaned against the front door, her face buried in his chest, his fingers carefully and gently stroking her neck. House whispered that they needed to get up. At first, Cuddy didn't listen or didn't care. Finally she pulled herself up, then helped House to his feet and over to the couch. She curled up in a corner, hugging a throw pillow, and closed her eyes. The floor had been murder on his leg. Pain shot through down to his shin. He swallowed two Vicodin, retrieved his cane, and limped heavily to the kitchen. He brought back a glass of water and a wet paper towel. The keys were still behind the couch. They were fine. House wasn't about to leave Cuddy, not now. Not for anything. "Here, take it," he said quietly, putting the glass in her hand. After she took a drink he took the paper towel and cleaned off the mascara that had streaked down her face. Her eyes were empty. He had never seen her look so shaken and pale. He didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit.

It was all too true when she said there was nothing he could say that would make her feel any worse. There nothing he could say that would make her feel any better either, so for the moment he chose to keep his mouth shut, only talking quietly when he asked her to turn her cheek so he could clean off one last bit of makeup, encouraging her to take another sip of water. She didn't argue, didn't meet his eyes, didn't say a word as she handed back the glass. The evening was long over and he could see she just wanted some rest. He did too.

House threw away the paper towel, rinsed out the glass, and rejoined his lover on the couch. He was still wearing his motorcycle jacket and was too hot. The jacket came off, as did his sneakers. "Lisa, come here," he said, tugging at her arm. Carefully, he pulled her close and lay her down on the couch, stretching out behind her. The lights stayed one. He didn't feel like getting up again. He didn't want to disturb her, especially for some petty little reason. The once crisp raspberry-colored power suit she wore was now mashed and wrinkled, a button was missing. He would help her look for it later.

A car passed, the bass music blasting so loud the pictures shook on the wall. Annoying as hell. Idiots who think the whole world should be listening to their playlist. House ignored it and listened as Cuddy's shallow breaths slowly became the deep breaths of sleep.


Cuddy woke up in her living room, on the couch without having the slightest idea of how she got there. Her eyes stung, she felt wrung out. It took a few seconds before she could even remember what day it was. Then it all came flooding back to her–the pregnancy test, the screaming, the fighting, the crying. And she wasn't alone on the couch.

"Hey," House greeted her, planting a kiss on her neck, stubble tugging at her exposed skin.

"Hi," she said, her voice barely audible. She was surprised she had a voice at all.

"It's been a very long night, Lisa."

"Too long. What time is it?"

"A little after eleven. You okay? How are you feeling?"

"Worn-out. Tired. Really really tired." She turned to face him.

"Like I said, it's been a long night." He gave her a small smile and was more than a little pleased to see her return it. "I hope that special day off for us is still open because we both need it."

"That we do. We're going to get it, believe me. I'm glad you're still here. I really am."

"You wouldn't let me leave, remember?"

"I kicked your cane under the table." The memories washed over her again like a waterfall and left her drenched. Screaming at him, all but begging him not to leave. Hitting and slapping at him. Completely losing control. She had never let herself lose control like that. She felt the blush of anger and shame crawl up her face. "I took your keys."

"Yes, you did. You really didn't want me to leave, did you?"

"I shouldn't have done that. For some reason I was afraid you wouldn't come back."

"Like that will ever happen. Now you know how I feel," he smirked a bit. "You didn't kick my leg, so I guess I can't complain too much. Next you would have tried to slash my tires so I decided to stay. You shouldn't handle sharp knives when you're angry."

"You stayed here for me."

"I couldn't leave you screaming and crying on the floor. Even I'm not that cruel."

"You stayed here for me, Greg."

"Hmmmm...you're right. I stayed here for you. Who else am I going to stay for? No one," he said, running his thumb across the soft skin of her cheek. "I think both of us need a good night's sleep for once. Whatever we have left to say can wait until morning. Nothing is going to change in a few hours, is it?"

"I don't think so. And I'm too tired to argue," she said, slowly getting up.

They made their way down the hall. House put his arm around her shoulder.

"I wanted to have your baby, Greg." She relaxed as he hugged her closer.

"I know, Lisa. I know you did."