He couldn't remember how long he sat slumped behind her desk.

It just made no sense to House. He'd pulled such things before, it wasn't even his fault that everyone had thought he had brain cancer. He had tried to keep it silent.

It was like being five again and telling your mother it wasn't you that threw the ball through the window, though she had seen you.

He knew he'd gone too far, had known it since they found out and somehow he felt touched that they'd tried so hard.

It was slowly getting darker and darker around him, he still sat waiting. Hoping she'd come back, see him on the floor, sigh and roll her eyes like usually and then forgive him. He didn't care if the others did, they'd get over it like usual. But Cuddy suddenly had given up, and that he couldn't deal with. All those times before he knew that she was somehow always standing behind him, she took care of each lawsuit.

Yes, she was often more than annoyed. After the Tritter thing he had been relieved that she only wanted him to do more clinic hours. Every other Administrator would long have fired him. Genius or not. And all the others before her had. None had kept him that long.

Last night he understood why. He mattered to her. Somehow, no matter what he had done to her in the past, he was not just a pity job to her. It wasn't just her guilt of crippling him that made her devoted, she actually liked him.

The door creeked open, House didn't even look up, it wasn't her. The steps crossing the room to strong and determined.

Wilson sighed as he looked at House huddled against the wall, under the window.

'Go home House.' grabbing the cane he held it out to him.

Jimmy had never believed it possible, but House looked bummed, seriously down. When the older man looked up at him he sighed, it was sad to look at him. The genius junkie, just trying to get the ultimate fix, not caring for the consequences until he saw what he did to her. Wilson would somehow always end up forgiving him, they stuck together, no one knew why. But this time it seemed as if he pushed his oldest friend away.

House shook his head. There it was again, the pity in Wilson's eyes. Like the others pitied him, the cripple who faced constant pain, who was unsocial, had no friends and if he had, drove them away in a matter of months, years.

'I need to...' actually he didn't know what he needed to do.

'You need to go home, before security finds you.' gentle poke with the cane. 'House, she pulled your licence and suspended you for a month.'

Somehow a chuckle escaped him, wretched from his throat. She'd done this before, he could deal with that, no problem, at least some kind of punishment.

'A month...' shaking his head, so he still had a chance she would forgive him.

On his way home he somehow found himself taking an unusual turn, ending up at her place somehow. He was annoyed with his inner force, but knew he had least had to try.

Her lights where already switched off and for a moment he pondered to turn and leave but decided to go for it.

She was rolled up on her couch, eyes puffy and red rimmed, hair frilly and unkempt, her clothes baggy. A hanky in her left hand, already soppy. She had simply driven home to cry it out. And that she had done for the better part of her day she had been crying over the bastard. Cursing him, Cursing herself that she had been fooled.

A ring made her jolt upright, her doorbell. She took the blanket and wound it tightly around her, shielding her from who she knew would be standing before the door. Looking through the peephole her fear was confirmed. Closing her eyes she took a step back from the door, only her right hand lingering on the cool wood.

Another ring accompanied by a knock, a hard rapping. She made no move.

House leaned his head against the door heavily.

'C'mon...open' it was a mumble nothing more. The door shook slightly as the bolds where loosened. He took a step back so he wouldn't fall face first into her front hall. His head still hung low, the weight n his shoulders had increased considerably and he suddenly felt alone, it scared him. He couldn't muster enough strength to lift his head, look at her.

'I want you to leave Dr House.' It sounded strangely strong and cold in her own ears.

'I just need to explain, please, you'll understand.' He looked pleading. A five year old asking for forgiveness after found lying.

'I need no more explanation.'

She was about to close the door again, he held it open willing her to listen.

'Lisa...I never meant for everyone to...'

Fire blazing in her eyes as she looked at him sharply.

'You never meant what House? To make us find out about your hoax, so you could go on lying?' she viciously poked his chest with her pointy finger. He had to take a step back, in fear she'd stab him down. He could barely shake his head.

'You enjoyed every second of attention you had from everyone. You liked the fact we were to stupid to find out, that you once more were superior. Just a simple blood test would have been all. No cancer markers. But you knew I wouldn't request it. Tell me House did you enjoy it? Was it funny to use my pain against me?'

He swallowed hard, 'I ...'

Say something idiot!! Explain the treatment, tell her about your hopes of a pain therapy.

He stuttered like an idiot. He couldn't get himself to simply say he was sorry that he never thought it'd hurt her, that he always thought she simply kept him for his work, not friendship.

Cuddy shook her head, her shoulders slumped as another tear escaped her, against her will.

His hand lifted on his own will, slowly, softly stroking the tear away with a calloused thumb.

It actually shocked him, the stinging pain in his left cheek. His head twisted from the force.

'You bastard made me believe you'd die within a year for some fix. You saw how it pained me and everyone else but we didn't matter. You just wanted another high.'

More tears escaped, her voice shaky. Then the door closed with a bang, left him standing outside, rubbing his cheek, head once more hung low.

i b Five days later /b /i

She closed the bag after packing what she thought she would need. Like a robot she carried it down to her car, put it in the trunk with the other bags and then closed the trunk again.

She felt like running, but this time she needed to go, before she would face even more pain because she was not able to keep her feelings out of her job.

i maybe muse strikes me again and I'll make it into a happy end, sappy, make you cry so much story. /i