Titled: Pain in my heart chapter 4
Author: curseofavalon
Rating: PG
Summary: He went way too far.
Pairing: Huddy
Disclaimer: I don't own House or its characters Fox does tho, I just used them shamelessly for this snippet.
She struggled against the hold of his arms until she found all her strength drained. The crying and moving together had left her a weak sniffling mass in his strong arms.
He pressed his nose against her cold neck, breathing on her. She must've hit his leg in the process of struggling, he winced and her struggling finally stopped.
'Just let me explain, then you can still hate me, but let me explain this.' He held something soft in his voice, something vulnerable and hurt, it made her turn in his arms.
She looked at him, her eyes swimming, his didn't hold the usual cockiness, he looked tired, like he hadn't slept for ages.
She shook her head.
'It doesn't matter what the explanation is Greg. It matters that you didn't confide me and that you let me believe you were going to die.'
With that she slipped out of bed.
He followed her after some minutes he needed to squelch the pain. Cuddy was in the kitchen, leaning heavily against the Island counter and looking out of the window. He pulled a chair close and heavily sat on it. The pain in his leg was searing and he rubbed it absentmindedly.
She sighed and poured him a glass of water looking down at him almost softly, then walked into the front hall where his coat lay haphazardly on the floor. After some rummaging in his pockets she found what she was looking for and went back to the kitchen.
She looked at the pill bottle in her hand as she came to stand in front of him, she knew his life was reigned by pain, she understood his search for help, the methods she was not ok with.
He looked up at her with what could be explained as House's own description of the puppy dog look. Which meant he couldn't look into her eyes at all. She handed him two pills and held the water to him. He stopped himself from dry swallowing the medicine for her sake only and took a strong pull from the glass.
Her standing so close to him alone made him forget the pain, he leaned his head against her midriff tiredly. He was tired, of life, of pain, of being alone with all those burdens, of hurting her. It was an endless cycle he hated, but still couldn't break from it. She was warm and unbelievable soft and a sigh of relief broke from him when she softly stroked his cheek, almost as if she needed to feel that he really was there.
'Oh Greg...'
She softly stroked through his unruly hair and felt the tenseness in his shoulders vanish. He turned his face into her tummy inhaling the scent.
'You could've told me, I would've never declined help.'
she felt sorry for him, she had done this to him, put the scar on his leg, the constant pain but to save him, keep him alive and with her.
He looked up at her then. 'I needed to do this ...you know me Lisa.'
She knew what he meant, stroking his cheeks softly.
'Yes, but it doesn't change what you did or make it any better.'
She turned away then, another pang of pain shooting through her. The hurt sat deep and it would need time to heal but now she wasn't even sure what she wanted anymore.
He reached for her, needed her close again but she was out of reach. She wrapped her arms around herself then, shaking slightly from cold and tiredness. She looked at him again, a puddle of self pity, sadness and pain, all mingled into one damaged package.
She held her hand out to him, trying to muster something like a soft smile, not failing but not able to manage either.
'C'mon, lets go to bed, you look tired.'
When she had turned away from him he thought he had missed his chance, but now looking at her outstretched hand he felt a glimmer of hope touching him. He took her tiny hand into his large one and slowly stood up. He felt her squeeze his hand and another weight lifted of him.
It must've been a funny sight, the pair of them. He hobbled after her as best as he could, his cane lay forgotten next to her front door. Back in the bedroom she helped him get undressed, slowly peeling his jeans of his leg, waiting for a comment that never came.
'Did you bring anything to wear?' she spoke softly, almost whispering.
'Yea, a backpack, it's downstairs.'
He couldn't look at her once more. Staring down at his scar, still fidgeting with his boxer shorts, trying to pull it a little more over the ugly and deformed flesh. She stopped his hand softly.
'Stop, it doesn't bother me.'
She turned to leave, but couldn't because he was holding on to her hand.
'Please stay with me.'
He reminded her of a child, he sounded afraid that she would leave.
'Greg...I don't think...'
She couldn't finish the sentence, had to stop as he looked at her with those sad eyes. So she slowly slipped into bed after him, stroking the hair of his forehead.
'What have you gotten us into?'
He had created a mess, a private hell for them. Still it was the first time she had felt him care. House didn't answer, instead he pulled her closer and she let him. They would have to deal with what he did, but at least they would do it together. She knew they still had a long way to go but at least she knew that he would be beside her.
For the first time in three weeks she fell to sleep, her heavy heart lifted a little.