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"What are you doing here?" Cuddy asked, making sure it was evident that she was still angry.

"Came to see Mick," he answered with a shrug.

Cuddy narrowed her eyes. "You know she's asleep."

"Already?" House raised his eyebrows, feigning his shock.

"It's eleven thirty," she replied.

"Oh." He straightened up. "Guess I'll have to come back tomorrow."

"You wanted to talk to me," Cuddy said.

House stopped and paused. "Yeah."

"Is that the only honest answer I'm going to get tonight?" Cuddy asked him. "If so, you might as well go-"

"Let me in," he replied sincerely.

Cuddy took a step back and widened the space between the door and the door frame. House hobbled inside. He moved into her darkened living room. Cuddy followed after him and turned on the lamp.

"How's your lip?" he asked, standing awkwardly in the middle of the room.

"Fantastic," she snapped sarcastically. The guilty look on his face made her soften. "How's your shin?"

"Hurts," he answered.

"I'm sorry," she apologized sincerely, but her tone immediately changed. "But what did you think you were doing?"

"I was thinking about you," House told her.

Cuddy looked away from him. She stared at the sparkly velcro sneakers lying on the floor. House let his eyes remain on her.

"Lisa," he tried.

Cuddy snapped to attention. "You used, didn't you?"

"What?" House's shock, this time, was genuine.

"You used more than you should have." Cuddy felt sick to her stomach. Mostly because she knew it was, in part, her fault.

House's eyebrows drew together. "No, I-"

"Lemme see them." Cuddy extended a hand.

House stared her down. "I didn't come over here to talk about-"

"Either you let me see them or you get out," Cuddy cut him off harshly.

He paused a moment and then moved to the doorway. "I'll see you tomorrow."

Cuddy's shoulders dropped as she watched him pass her. "House, if this has anything to do with-"

"Don't," House snapped and headed down the hallway.

"You should talk to someone," Cuddy followed him out. "Wilson maybe. If this is bothering you to the point that-"

"It's not this." House stopped and spun in her direction, his words stinging. "It's you."

Cuddy froze, almost crashing into him. "Me? What do you-"

House suddenly kissed her, his hand reaching up over her chest, sliding alongside of her neck, and into her hair. He moved her towards the wall and let his cane rest against it.

Cuddy broke from his kiss. "You have to leave if you're high. I won't let you-"

His mouth covered hers again, cutting her off. Cuddy's bottom lip still hurt, but the other emotions she was feeling overrode that pain. She pulled her lips from House's and turned her head to the side in attempt to get him to stop.

"House."

House's stubble grazed over her cheek and down her neck, where he went to work next.

"God da-" She let out a breath, the ache growing. She placed two weak hands on his chest and pushed him back.

"Lisa, just let me..." House came back to her, his lips traveling over her clavicle then downward.

"Stop it!"

She placed her hand over her mouth, surprised at her own volume. Cuddy slid away from House and kept her back to him in order to regain some sense. House reached into his pocket for his Vicodin. The rattle of the bottle made her turn.

"It's been four hours," he told her as he popped the lid.

"And you're taking... one?" she asked him.

House made a point to lift the single pill and place it in his mouth. "Happy?"

"No." She shook her head slightly. "You should go. Please. Go."

"Mommy?" a child's voice called out.

"You're right." He gave a nod he didn't believe in. "I'm... sorry."

"Okay," she replied.

"Mom?" the young voice was more urgent.

"I'll be right there, sweetie." Cuddy called back, watching as House made his way to the front door.

"Who's out there with you?" the child asked.

House closed the front door behind him.

"No one, baby."

Cuddy shook her head, a lump forming in her throat and a wretched feeling beginning in the pit of her stomach. She turned and headed for her daughter's bedroom, her mind reminding her of the heated night that made tonight seem like tame child's play.

"You need help!" she had shouted inches from his face. "You need help! I can't do this. I'm going to have to fire you."

"What?" he sneered and then backed away, scoffing, "You'd never fire me."

"No." She raised a finger and he turned his back to her, looking over the semi familiar objects in her living room."I never said that. When I hired you, I told you that as long as you could keep it together and prove that you deserved a job at my hospital, then I would keep you."

"I'm not proving myself?" He turned toward her.

"You are, which astounds me really, but you're not it keeping it together," Cuddy told him and promptly folded her arms across her chest.

"What the hell do you mean?" House stared at her. "I'm not keeping it together? I'm completely capable of making a diagnosis."

"Which is the part that astounds me!" Cuddy hastily replied. "You've gotten worse. There are chunks of time you can't account for. I can't babysit you anymore, House. I have a two year old. I can't be watching over the both of you."

"I don't need you to watch over me, Cuddy." He limped toward her, wincing in pain. "Get off your damn pedestal."

"Right." She nodded. "Right, this all about your self righteousness. It's all about how you're better than everyone else because you think you can manage your pain."

"I can and I am managing my pain," House insisted and then stormed out of the room, not being able to be in her presence any longer.

"Not at my hospital, you're not." She called after him as she went into the hall. "I'm sorry, House."

House shook his head. "You don't have reason to-"

"You didn't show up thirteen days last month," Cuddy angrily began the list in her head. "You've completely stopped Clinic duty. You had an emergency patient come in, but you couldn't help him because you were so far gone! I don't know if you're trying to kill yourself or if you want attention, but-"

House had moved toward her. He pinned her hard against the wall, his hands on her shoulders, cane digging in against her skin.

"I don't want attention," he told her bitterly.

"Get off of me," she demanded coldly, her eyes locked with his.

House released her and stepped away. He turned his back to her, ashamed by his actions. Cuddy softened only because she knew what was destroying him. And it wasn't exactly the Vicodin.

"James's attention isn't on just you anymore," Cuddy said. "You have to share his time with Claire."

"Claire's a bitch," House retorted over his shoulder.

"She is not," Cuddy replied. She took a step closer to him. "I know it's hard, House, but I am telling you right now, if you don't clean up, you're going to lose your job."

"I don't need this." House shook his head and faced her. "I don't need you telling me what I'm suppose to do now that you have a perfect life with your kid."

Cuddy paused, unsure of what to say to that. She wished she could ease his anger, but she didn't know how. "Greg, you're the only one who can help you."

"Forget it." He moved toward the door. "Forget I stopped by. Forget I gave you a kid. Forget I worked at the hospital."

"Would you stop with the damn self pity?" She asked loudly.

House turned and glared, raising his voice. "You don't have any idea what I'm going through. You've got a kid, Wilson's got a wife-"

"And you have no one," Cuddy raised her voice to speak over him. "I know. But, you don't want to live with nothing, but your Vicodin, House. I know you need it for the pain, but I know of a program that can-"

"I'm not doing any programs," he cut her off. "You don't actually care. You feel guilty. That's why you haven't fired me yet."

A realization sacked Cuddy in the stomach. "You've been doing it on purpose. All your little hospital games."

"Caught me," House spat and threw his arms out.

"What is wrong with you?" Cuddy hissed, crossing towards him. "Do you want me to fire you?"

"I want you to get off your damn pedestal," House replied.

Cuddy rolled her eyes in annoyance. "Oh, for God's sake, I'm not on-"

"I need a leave of absence," he said shortly.

Cuddy hesitated. "What?"

"Two months," House told her.

"Where are you-" Cuddy's eyebrows drew together.

"Two months or I'm fired." He shrugged. "I bet your guilt is nearly crushing you."

Cuddy stared at him. She hated the fact that she was feeling guilty over this. She hated it even more that he knew.

"You can have it." Her curiosity took her over. "Why are you doing it?"

"What?" He limped to her front door and pulled it open.

"Getting help." She followed him for a few steps, but stopped.

"I'm not." He looked back at her from the doorway. "I'm going to Maui."

With that, House slammed the door behind him. Cuddy didn't see nor hear from him for two months. But, when he came back, he didn't appear as sickly. And his Vicodin refills lessened. And he managed his intake. And they never talked about it. But, she still felt guilty for reasons she couldn't explain.