House left around ten o'clock, reaffirming his word to not personally insult his staff that Cuddy knew would last for maybe two days, racing off on his motorcycle like a man possessed. He drove that bike too damned fast. It wasn't like he was trying to run away from something so much as he was trying to leave whatever was bothering him behind. It had nothing to do with her. Well, maybe a little bit. Cuddy couldn't even begin to imagine what sort of skeletons were hiding in the closet of House's mind. He probably had a whole graveyard in there.
No effort was made to stop him from going out the door. She wanted some time alone to think and he wanted to give her the time and space. She promised to stop over when she had thought the whole situation through. He said good night and locked the door behind him.
She swallowed four extra-strength painkillers as her head began to throb and cramps gripped her belly. The pain finally began to ebb away, replaced with the killer sugar craving that hit her once a month. A pint of Death by Chocolate was hidden in the back of the freezer. The lid was torn off in a frenzy. Three-fourth's of it was gone before she was able to force herself to put the spoon down and take a breath.
The stillness and quiet of her home suddenly flooded her ears. The silence was deafening. Usually the television was on with House making his non-stop commentary about anything on the screen that happened to catch his attention: someone's lousy haircut, out-of-date clothing styles, a laughable piece of dialogue. House in his spot at the end of the sofa, his feet on the table just to see long it would take her to push them off. Passing a cup of coffee back and forth. She didn't realize how accustomed she had grown to these things, and how much she enjoyed them.
Don't know what you got until it's gone.
Whoa, Lisa, aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself?
It wasn't gone. Just put on hold for the moment. She wasn't about to turn and walk away, not after all they had been through, and neither was House. That would be damned cold and cowardly and both of them deserved better. Dr. Lisa Cuddy was going to see this through to the end even if it killed her. Not that it would come to that, but she figured House would appreciate the effort, whether he noticed or not.
So where do we go from here? Good question. Is there an answer?
She knew there was. She just wanted to make sure she wasn't missing anything that was right in front of her face. That wouldn't do any good at all. Every last scrap was going be inspected.
Nothing was going to be overlooked, not if she could help it.
The house was too damned quiet. She rinsed off the dishes and stuffed them into the dishwasher, and switched it on even though it was still half-empty. The hushed droning and the soapy steam from the dishwasher got on her nerves. Soon a Sarah McLachlan CD filled the living room with some pleasant noise. That was better. It was nice to hear another voice, some noise to drown out the deafening quiet.
His leg was hurting and he paced around the living room, the only sounds coming from his footsteps and the dull tap of his cane. Back and forth, over and over. He tried to occupy his mind with something else while waiting for the pills to do their job.
Every relationship had a turning point and they had finally stumbled on to theirs. Now the only thing left to do was to see if it was for better or for worse.
The only thing House was sure about at the moment was that he did not want his relationship with Cuddy to end. She was the one person who made him feel wanted, loved and special when he thought no one would ever think anything of sort of him, not after Stacy's less-than-glorious exit. This was his last chance to have a good influence in his life, someone he really truly cared about, and he wasn't about drop it on a dime. He would fight it to the death.
Stacy. There was a name he hadn't thought of in a while. Stacy and her damned emotional baggage left unclaimed and disconnected phone number. Maybe that was the best thing for both of them, he had nothing to say to her after all these years. What would Stacy say about him? He didn't care anymore. Maybe he never cared to begin with. Maybe he hung on to her memory because he had nothing else to hang on to. Feeling alone and hurt was better than feeling nothing at all. There would always be few of her boxes left around, pushed back in the dark corners, hidden from view. He would just have to deal with them when he happened to trip over one. Thinking about her was just another thoroughly useless waste of time. She was gone. The end. Roll credits.
Lisa Cuddy. The thought of her brought a tiny smile.
Lisa, Lisa, where are you going?
Nowhere.
Are you really sure about that?
Yes. Unlike someone else...
The knot of pain began to unravel a bit. He stretched out on his bed, sneakers still laced on his feet, and listened to the silence of his apartment. The quiet never really bothered him. It let him look through the various thoughts running around his head without distraction, catching them and making sure they were worth the effort of thinking about. If not, they were unceremoniously drop-kicked into oblivion. Good-bye.
I was afraid you wouldn't come back.
Now you know how I feel.
She was afraid he wouldn't come back.
Now it was her turn to feel the fear of abandonment.
Now that was something worth thinking about.
