A/N: Last chapter saw Cuddy finally have the courage to talk to Chase by himself. How will that go? And will House ever find out?

Enjoy!

Chapter 87:

Once in the exam room of the OB clinic on the third floor, Chase stood stoically and quietly by the door.

"You could come in, you know," Cuddy told him. "I don't bite."

Chucking softly, Chase advanced further into the room, feeling slightly uncomfortable. "Contrary to what some of your staff say," he responded, trying to lighten the tension.

Cuddy laughed and then winced. "Half of my staff are afraid of me," she replied.

She waited until he was in her line of vision.

"Chase, I wanted to thank you."

Not expecting that admission, Chase said nothing and stared at her.

"I take it that was not what you were expecting?" Cuddy asked, softly as she cocked a single eyebrow, staring at him.

Chase hesitated. "I, uh...I didn't know what to expect, truthfully," he finally stammered out.

As an afterthought, he added, "You're welcome," as he shifted uncomfortably again. "How are you?"

"I'm okay, thank you," Cuddy replied quietly, "I'm assuming you were in the clinic?"

"Yeah, um," Chase cleared his throat. "I was on my way back from filling a patient's prescription when I heard a sound coming from your office," he told her. "Then I heard a man's voice, so naturally I was curious."

"Thank you," Cuddy replied, quietly. "For everything."

"I was just glad I arrived when I did." He paused and then began again, this time a bit hesitantly. "I'm assuming you didn't tell House you were going to talk with me?"

"No, I didn't. I'm sure you know how he would have reacted."

Chase silently agreed.

"Chase, I know you're still beating yourself up about what happened. You are not a bad person," Cuddy told him, peering carefully at him. "And I can say that now because I've accepted what happened...a long time ago. Like I said before, I don't hold grudges because what good do they hold?"

This admission was surprising for her. She didn't expect to be ready to talk to him just yet, and yet, here she was, ready to talk.

"Is this just because of what happened today?" Chase asked.

Cuddy shook her head. "No, Chase. I just needed to talk for real and that happened yesterday, at the trial."

"With all due respect, Dr. Cuddy, it's entirely my fault-"

"Chase, this wasn't an easy thing for me to come to terms with...I realized eventually it wasn't going to feel right to me if you and I didn't have this discussion."

"You think this was a walk in the park for me?!" Chase asked, rougher than he intended.

"I never -"

"Because it hasn't!" he continued. "I feel like shit for what I did! I shouldn't have driven that night!"

"Or drunk yourself into oblivion either," Cuddy murmured.

"I'm curious: why did you agree to have House take me back to work for him?" Chase suddenly asked.

Cuddy sucked in a quiet breath before answering him. She finally responded with what she had always responded with when House had asked her about doing something linked to the accident.

"I needed closure."

Chase was silent, sensing there was more to be said.

"Yesterday, when I was up on that stand being questioned, that was one of the few times since all of this happened that I truly let myself feel everything - that I was finally able to "get out" so to speak, all my emotions - the hurt, the anger...I was initially going to say no to Greg when he requested that. I had no idea he was going to do that - the last thing I expected from him."

"Your surprise was evident," Chase interrupted, "That I could definitely tell was not part of the plan. Even John looked surprised."

"The more I thought about it," Cuddy replied, "The more I realized that all along Greg's coping mechanism was within his work - the late nights, solving cases, differential diagnoses discussions with Cameron and Foreman - and I knew I couldn't take that away from him."

She closed her eyes and took a needed breath, exhaling quietly.

"And so, I didn't. I was not going to take way his only outlet. We barely talked about the accid - about what happened. I mean, we did, but then...he just stopped talking and I didn't force it. Allison would tell me every time your name was mentioned, House would get this - this look on his face - but he wouldn't talk about it. Not with me, I don't think with anyone," she stressed.

"So why did I agree to have him take you back?" Cuddy continued, forcing herself to lock eyes with Chase.

"I'll say this again. You are not a bad person. I knew Greg would never hire a replacement. He still respects you as a doctor, even if you do not think he does. You work well with Cameron and Foreman, and the four of you - you have this - this dynamic that enables you to solve cases 9 times out of 10. And I couldn't interfere with that."

"I appreciate what you are saying, Doctor Cuddy. Really, I do-"

"Stop -"

"I keep revisiting that night," Chase interrupted her, giving no recognition that she had stopped him. "I - And you were right when you said that just because my friend committed suicide doesn't give me the right to act the way I did that night. I don't think I can ever forgive myself for what I did to you...I should have never done that."

"So why did you?"

Chase hesitated. "I don't know."

"That's not good enough. And you know that it's not.":

"I wasn't thinking," Chase tried again.

Cuddy snorted with disgust. " Well, that's freaking obvious. Look, Chase, you're smart. You work for one of the top doctors in the country...People make mistakes. People -"

"Why do you keep softening what I did to you?" Chase interrupted, hastily.

Cuddy glanced at the monitor beside the table she was occupying, and noted her climbing heart rate.

"Because you made a mistake, but I know it is a mistake you will NEVER do again. To ANYONE," she replied, harshly. "Chase, yeah, okay, you fucked up. Is that what you want to finally hear from me?!"

Clearing his throat, Chase said nothing.

"Certainly seems like it," Cuddy deduced, wincing slightly as she shifted her body weight, holding the ice pack against her abdomen to make sure it didn't fall to the ground, "It's almost as if you want me to tell you that you fucked up, which I just did, and now it's as if you want some sort of - of absolution from me."

"Who do you think you are?" she demanded. "You come to me looking for both absolution and for me to tell you that you screwed up big time? Why? Do you want people to feel sorry for you? I'm betting you will never do something stupid like this again, so why are you still wallowing?"

"I'm not -"

"Oh, like hell you aren't!" Cuddy snapped angrily. "Get off your high horse, Chase!" She took a breath before continuing, this time in a more composed manner.

"You can either live the rest of your life in misery, knowing that certain lives were affected because of your actions...or you can move on past what you know you've done and know you will never be able to change what happened."

"Which," she added, "is what I suggest you do."

Chase nodded silently. He opened his mouth to respond, but Cuddy cut him off before he even had a chance to begin.

"I don't want you to respond," she told him. "I just want you to think about it. I can tell that you aren't taking this lightly and I never said you should. Just think about what you got yourself into for the next fourteen months."

"Better than sitting in a cell."

"Is it?"

Chase swallowed. Did he make the wrong decision? Was his lawyer right in telling him not to take the deal?
Casting his thoughts aside, he took a deep breath.

Cuddy said nothing and continued to watch him carefully.

"I don't know," he finally answered before turning away from her and walking towards the door.

Suddenly, he turned back. "I'm sorry," he whispered, before walking out the door and shutting it behind him.

"You sure you still want me to go to Vegas on Monday?"

Later that afternoon, Parker had decided to release Cuddy, knowing that House was available to watch her for any sign of a complication. He had recommended limiting any physical activity until she felt 100 percent better and until the bruise had become considerably less painful.

House had a few items to discuss with his team regarding their six-year old patient, Colin, and after that, he and Cuddy went home for the day. On the way, they stopped at Witherspoon Grill and picked up takeout.

In hearing House's question, Cuddy wiped her mouth with her napkin after taking a bite of the pear and blue cheese salad she had ordered, and looked across the kitchen table at him.

"You are not getting out of this that easy," she told him.

"Oh but mom," he whined.

"You're still going," she stressed. "I'll be fine. You have to go."

"Oh I know you'll be fine. I'm just worried about Brad showing up while I'm gone."

Reaching across the table, Cuddy grabbed his hand and squeezed it, reassuringly.

"I'll deal with it if necessary," she told him simply.

House swallowed a piece of his burger, not looking too convinced. "I'm not too keen on leaving you with a nut job who all he wants is to get into your pants and will achieve any means necessary to do so," he replied, his face darkening as he recalled what Cuddy had finally told him about what happened in her office before he arrived.

"Greg, stop. I'll be fine. I promise."

"And from what you told me earlier," she added, "he's not going to step foot in the hospital without you killing him first."

"You think that is going to stop a guy like Brad?!"

"You tell me," she replied as she stabbed at her salad with her fork and speared a pear before sticking it in her mouth.

"Anyway, how are things for Vegas coming?"

She did not tell him she was planning to surprise him by showing up in Vegas on Wednesday to see him present and then stay for the closing cocktail reception the following evening. She knew he hated going to events, especially where he had to mingle and be social so it was the least she could do to be there with him.

"Fine," he replied, "Stan's coming over tomorrow to go over some last minute details. We were going to meet today but pending the circumstances..."

He paused and squeezed her hand.

"I'm going to miss you," he admitted softly.

Cuddy smiled shyly. "Me too."

"You're going to miss you too?"

Cuddy laughed. "Don't be a wise ass. You knew what I meant," she said, as she leaned back in her chair and winced, placing a hand on the side of her stomach, her fingers grazing the area around the bruise.

"You okay?"

She nodded.

"You should ice. C'mon, I'll clean up. Go lay down. I'll get you an icepack."

As House cleared the dishes off the table, Cuddy did as she was told.

After he was done cleaning up from dinner, House grabbed an icepack from the freezer and a dishtowel from a drawer and limped down the hallway into the bedroom.

"That okay?" he asked, as he placed the ice pack wrapped around the towel on her side.

"Yeah, thanks."

Just then, House's cell phone rang, interrupting them.

"What?" he snapped into the phone after glancing at the I.D.

"House, new symptom," Foreman told him.

Covering the mouthpiece with his hand, House leaned down and kissed Cuddy on the forehead.

"I gotta take this. I'll be back."

Straightening up, he turned and limped out of the bedroom, listening to Foreman discuss their current worsening patient.