Living Proof

Hi !

Well ... who watched the Golden Globes ?! In the middle of the night, I did (We did *-*) and I'm so happy Hugh won for the third time. He's unbelievable, wise and smart ... The Night Manager has now three brilliant and well-desered awards !

Happy New Year to you. I wish you all the best.

Ju.

7.

A waiter has just brought her a cup of lemon tea when he walked in. She recognized him immediately as he passed by, looking down and limping slowly. Her hands were wrapped around the cup, an old covered book on the table. The tall and blue eyed man has taken a chair a few tables away. He was now looking absently outside, through the large bay window. Even if she knew he has already forgotten her name, she could easily remember his. A few days ago, he was the doctor employed at the clinic and obviously against his will when she came for an ordonnance. He now looked exhausted and was rubbing his right thigh in a mechanical gesture. The old lady knew nothing about House. Although, she appreciated him in her own way, feeling that somewhere he wasn't always the man he hid and protected himself behind. The lady took a sip of her tea and opened her book.

A cramp was bursting inside and behind his thigh, blaming him for those two long day and night on a case. Elbows on the table, he hid his face in the palms of his hands and then rubbed his neck. What would you like, sir ? a waiter asked. I'm waiting for someone thanks, House answered quickly before looking straight back outside. A warm spring sun was sharing the immensity of the sky with a sea of fluffy white clouds. He's never come to this place before, preferring a more familiar bar closer to his apartment. But he wasn't really living there anymore, most of his stuff where at Cuddy's. They have seen each other less than a minute this morning when Cuddy has showed up in his office around eight thirty. She had kissed him slightly on the lips before going away, leaving him with his diagnosis.

The restaurant was built in the biggest park of Princeton. Two white swans were lounging around a large pond that House could see from where he was. He continued to rub his thigh, impatiently waiting for the effects of the ibuprofen. It's been like this for a few days, pain fading away before cruelly biting his flesh, bones and muscles. He had often thought about surrounding, giving up against it. But he's chosen to keep fighting because he didn't want to lose what had definitely changed him the last few months. He repressed a yawn and arched his back, tired.

A moment later, House picked up his phone in the interior pocket of his dark-blue jacket. The lady glanced quickly at him, having the funny impression of spying on him – intrigued. His appearance was cold and his blue eyes discouraged anyone who could have wanted to address him. She couldn't hear what he was saying, but suddenly his face turned white. He hung up, lips half-opened.

All he was thinking about were Foreman's words. His mouth went dry and he breathed deeply. He thought about leaving. He knew too well this sensation, the impression of being powerless. And the pain that crushed his thigh at this right moment wasn't physical. House looked down, rubbing his thumb vertically against his front. A couple was laughing at a table. Two women were talking with the waiter. But House was lost in his thought, thinking about what he's missed, what could have gone wrong. His silhouette has sunk into his chair.

His attention was drawn by two slightly knocks on the bay window. House turned his head and his blue eyes met Rachel's. She was smiling from ear to ear, waving at him quickly before running toward the restaurant doors. House found himself smiling weakly in the emptiness. A few seconds later, Rachel arrived at the table and letting her school bag on the floor, took a chair. Mum said you were coming ! He frowned and swallowed, his throat tightened. I said he'll try, honey. House looked up at Cuddy. Hand on his shoulder, she bent to kiss him but froze. Foreman's called, he whispered. Her hand moved to his neck. Patient had a heart attack. Cuddy bit her lips and nodded. I'm sorry, she whispered back sitting down next to him. She could see what he couldn't say, knowing that every case was like a promise for him – a promise to save one more life.

Cuddy squeezed tenderly his left thigh, knowing that nothing she'd say would help him after the loss of a patient. She watched him as he swallowed hard. She could as always easily read his emotions in his blue eyes. Howse, I need your help, Rachel urged him. House looked at her hesitantly. He heard Cuddy chuckle slightly when Rachel handed him a thick sheet proudly. What's that ? he asked. A sheet, she answered as if he was an idiot, it gets little when it's hot. Mum said you'll help me. Rachel smiled as if he's already agreed. Helping with ... Rachel sighed and frowned. With the drawing, she laughed, mum said you were good for that. House shook his head and let his left hand found Cuddy's under the table. Am I really ?

Her book was opened but she wasn't reading. She has recognized the beautiful woman too. He wasn't alone as she'd thought first. The little girl didn't look like him either, but the way they were looking at each other was sufficient to realize the deep link that existed between them. There was still a shadow in his eyes but when he turned to kiss his woman, the old lady knew things were going to be fine.

Thanks