Sorry for the really slow update, I was stumped for ideas. Then I realized I had this in my notebook and decided to type it up. I probably won't update again till after Christmas.

Happy Holidays all!

Spoiler warning: Spoilers for 'Skin Deep' in a couple of the quotes.

Chapter 5

He relaxed just barely enough to sleep for about five minutes at a time before jolting awake. She pulled up a chair watching him intently, wondering it this was his normal sleeping habit, or only because he wasn't alone. The memory of his infarction still plagues him. He was always afraid to fall asleep with other people in the room since that. Until now, he has managed to hide this well.

When he realized she was still in the room, he wanted privacy.

"Don't worry about me" he whispered to her softly as she was almost nodding off, startling her a bit. "I live a life of pain. This is nothing compared to some of the mornings when I wake up" Every now in then he would hitch in a quick breath, or pin his head back against to suppress a moan if pain.

"It's because you're in pain we worry. Narcotics are a dangerous road. You shouldn't have to live this way. If you continued the way you were going, you'd need a liver transplant by

summer time." He knew it was true; any higher dose on the Vicoden would be his liver's death wish.

"No one should have to live the way I do" he shut his eyes signaling 'end of discussion'.

"What a bitter, acerbic, misanthropic, cripple?" she joked devilishly. In her head she reviewed what he had just said. I lump in her throat building with concern.

"What do you mean 'compared to some mornings'?" He slowly opened his eyes, grimacing slightly.

"On bad days I can't even walk one step without falling over. Remember when I treated that supermodel?" He pushed himself up so his back was against the head board.

"Yeah, but what does it have to do with this?" she looked at him inquisitively.

He gulped he had never admitted this to anyone, not even Wilson.

"I… fell that morning. I though of calling off work, but without a distraction the pain would have intensified. That was the worst it has been in a long while. I couldn't get my leg over my bike or I would have driven instead of taking the bus."

She got slightly teary at the thought of him falling to the floor, writhing in pain.

"And you also never even tried to help me with the pain. You claim to want to help me, but I don't even know if I can trust you. First with Stacy and my leg, and now with my pain. It's not in my head now many times you try to tell yourself that. If you had to go through what I have you would be the same way. "

She was still mad at herself for tricking him that day. If she had really known the amount of pain he was suffering she would have giving his the morphine in a heartbeat. He came to her when he was most vulnerable, and she betrayed him. She was one of the few he could trust in, and she abused that.

"I'm still sorry for that House. I mean, I was desperate. Morphine is extreme, even for someone with as much opiate tolerance as you." She gently stroked his hand, he pulled back. He didn't want her pity, not now not ever.

"I trusted you, and you betrayed me." Short, sweet, and truthful. But that doesn't make it any less hurtful. She knew she should have trusted him.

"Leave my room" he demanded, sliding back into the bed into a more comfortable position. She heaved her self from the chair and opened her mouth for one last comment.

"House" he glanced up at her, groggy and eyes half open.

"Hmph" was muffled as he turned his back to her.

"I'm sorry" she spat out awkwardly "for everything. You're one of the nation's best doctors; I shouldn't have doubted you, or your pain." She lowered her tone of voice "I'm sorry" she wanted to run out of the room and find a quiet place to cry but she managed to compose herself. She bit her lower lip, she had something she hadn't told him yet and he needed to know.

"Thank you" he said sincerely. She felt the knot in her stomach slightly loosen, House observed her face for a moment.

"Let me guess there's a catch to this?" She was shocked at his ability to be so alert even through the fog of pain.

"You have to go back to rehab in a week, either that or jail." She spit it out straightforwardly.

"Okay" was his controlled response. Her jaw drooped, basically on the floor.

"Watch out or you'll get bugs in there." She shook herself from her shocked state.

"Just okay, no arguments? I expecting to have to run for cover." She lifted her arms and curled up to act like she was ducking.

"I may be an ass, but I know when I need help. I should warn you though it probably won't work."

"Not with that attitude it wont." she muffled incoherently to herself.

"We need to try" this time she said it in an audible tone. "Tritter will start riding us again if we don't" shuddering when she said the corrupt cop's name.

"Well he'll need a saddle then" She rolled he eyes and giggled under her breath. She raised her hand a threat that he was about an inch from getting slapped.

"He'll need a whip for you. Let's all hope he doesn't wear tight leather chaps or we might all walk out blind." She burst out in laughter.

"So true. But you could always wear those shades you have."

"I'm not sure even that would block out the mental image." He smirked.

"He'll need a leash for you, there's no hope of holding you down." She smacked his arm lightly.

"On a horse they are called reins Cuddy."

"I knew that" she said, her voice oozing with sarcasm.

"Sure…" he reached over and poker her.

"Ow" she yelped rubbing her shoulder.

He shifted in the bed making a space for her, and patted the bed. She hesitated at the uncharacteristic act. She soon nodded off House watched her and smirked at her attempt. 'Can't stay up past the insomniac' he though.