Thanks to everyone for reading. I'm glad you all seem to like it. This would have been up earlier but I had to make some changes to it.

Warning: Fight scene

Cuddy watched them leave, noticing how much House was suffering carrying his weight and Alex's. On making eye contact with him, she shivered slightly, an act that was, luckily, missed by the other man standing in her office, and smiled. In that small gesture, he told her that he would not only look after their son but he would be at her side if ever she needed it. She turned from them and noticed that Michael was leaning over her desk, breathing heavily. Walking over to him she placed a hand on his shoulder which he immediately shrugged off.

"Michael, I know you're angry, but you've had too much to drink. Let's go home. You can sleep it off and we can talk in the morning."

He spun round nearly knocking her off her feet. "No! We'll talk now. How long?" He walked away from her and stood by the doors looking out at the closed.

"I'm not going to play this game with you." She jumped as his fist broke through one of the glass panels of her office door. "Michael!" She rushed forward and grabbed his bloody hand inspecting it. He pulled from her. "Michael, there's glass in it. We need to clean it up and it looks like it'll need stitches…" She raised her hand and turned his face towards her and spoke softly. "We'll talk. I promise. But first you need to let me clean that up." He nodded and she led him through the now empty clinic, and into an exam room. They were silent as she went about removing the large shard of glass and examining the wound closely. "It looks clean but you need an x-ray." He shook his head, watching as she sighed and began cleaning the cuts.

They remained silent as she proceeded to stitch the deepest cut with expert precision her mind focused on the job at hand, not thinking about the problem that caused it. Michael, on the other hand, was watching her intently, uncaring about the needle being worked in and out of his skin. Instead, thinking about how to resolve the issues between him and his wife. It was only a matter of time before it all got too much for him. No matter what happened, House was there. The past week had been heaven. Although Cuddy had had to go back to the hospital in the evenings because of House, he hadn't actually turned up to the house unannounced at all. In the first few months of their marriage it was difficult to get rid of him and more than once they had come to blows, with Michael aiming for the right thigh while House brandished his cane like a bat. Neither had come off any better than the other but they both knew who won. At the end of all their fights, it was Michael who would have his cuts and bruises looked over by Cuddy, Michael who would sleep in her bed and Michael who would get to have breakfast with Alex in the morning, watching him grow day by day while House himself would get to see him a few times a week. If that. 'Yeah, we all know who the winner is,' he thought.

***

"Did he say he wanted to take Alex from you?" Alex was in bed and House and Wilson were sat on the couch in front of the muted TV – House had TiVoed the L-Word again – and were discussing what had happened.

"Well he said that I wasn't always going to be around and that Alex should get used to calling him dad." House told him as he reached forward for one of the half empty cartons of Chinese on the coffee table.

"And Alex told you this?"

"MmHm."

Wilson nodded taking a swig of his beer. "So what are going to do?"

"Well," House started, noodles hanging from his mouth. "I should talk to Cuddy about it…" He paused slurping the food into his mouth while Wilson nodded at his sensibility, "but I was thinking of shoving my cane so far up his – "

"House." Wilson told him sternly. "Speaking to Cuddy would be better for you as well as Alex. You hadn't seen him in a week before today and if that's got something to do with Michael you need to be careful."

"I know. You think I haven't been thinking about that. I mean, if he was to get his way, what's to say next time I see Alex he's calling me Greg or House. I'll talk to Cuddy about it tomorrow."

Wilson nodded. "Good." He looked at his watch running his hand through his hair. "Right, I'm going to go. Alex will probably be waking you up a lot earlier than I ever did in the morning, so you're going to need all the sleep you can get." He smirked as House screwed his face up, knowing that House would probably receiving a 7:30 wake up call. "Night House."

"Night Wilson," House called after him as the door closed behind his friend.

"Daddy?"

House closed his eyes briefly. It had taken him ages to get Alex to go to sleep after the three of them had eaten. And he was ready for sleep himself. Tilting his head right back against the sofa, he saw Alex entering the living room.

"Where'd Uncle Jimmy go?" He asked climbing onto the couch and leaning against House's side.

"Home. It's late. If you're yawning when I get you back to your mother, she'll kill me. On second thoughts…wanna watch the L-Word?" He chuckled at the enthusiastic nod and gave a sigh. "Come on." House got up, pulling the boy with him, it was easier to carry him when he was awake. House turned off the lights and headed to the bedroom feeling the fatigue really start to set in. Even if Alex wasn't, he was going to sleep like a baby tonight. He put the boy down on the bed and watched as he crawled to the right side of the bed, allowing House to get in on the left.

"You didn't brush your teeth," Alex told him, frowning.

"I'm an adult, I don't have to do what I don't want to," he replied sounding like a child himself.

"So you're not leaving then?" Alex asked as House turned off the bedside light.

House froze. That idiot must really have gotten to Alex if he was going to keep asking. He turned on his side and faced him. "I told you. I'm never going to leave you. Or your mom…" With that he turned on his back, allowing Alex to get closer, and wrapped his arms around him as they both drifted off to sleep.

***

Cuddy was outside House's apartment unsure as to whether or not to knock again. Alex would be asleep, and she didn't want to wake him up, but she had nowhere else to go so she tried again.

"Okay, okay. I'm coming. I've got a kid in –" House stopped as he swung the door open and saw Cuddy standing half in the shadows. "I said I'd drop him off tomorrow," he sighed letting her in. Obviously Michael had gotten his way.

"I'm not here to pick him up. I…" She turned to face him, tears in her eyes, make-up smeared and a purple bruise over her left eye.

"What happened?" House grabbed hold of her and pulled her closer, examining her eye.

Cuddy struggled to pull back but was instead held tighter and dragged towards the kitchen. "It's nothing," she lied. To herself just as much as to him.

"That is not 'nothing'," he said as he reached into the freezer grabbing some ice. He let go of her to wrap it in a cloth then placed it gently to her eye.

"He did this didn't he?" He tipped her head, trying to get her to make eye contact but she just concentrated on something over his shoulder. He sighed as she finally succeeded in pulling away to head to the living room. He followed, sitting next to her and handing the ice to her. She took it with a sad smile and held it to her own face. House remained quiet. She would speak if he didn't push it but if he didn't get the full story he was going to need a new cane once he introduced it to its new home.

She was grateful that he wasn't pestering her to tell him what happened but saw that he was finding it difficult. He was probably ready to go to her house to confront Michael but she couldn't let that happen. She took a deep breath and turned to face him.

"Do you still want to talk?" Cuddy asked as she let them both into the house. He nodded and headed to the kitchen while she took off her coat and headed towards the living room collapsing into the sofa. She switched on the standing lamp behind her, casting shadows over the room. She looked up as he came in, holding two glasses and a bottle of bourbon. Neither of them spoke, the only sounds coming from glass connecting with the coffee table and liquid being poured from one thing to another.

"You should stop drinking." She told him as he pushed a glass towards her. Ignoring her he picked up his own drink and downed it, feeling the burn down his throat as he poured another.

"Start talking." His voice was low as he sat on the coffee table in front of her, and she had to lean forward in order to hear him.

"What do you want to know?" She asked calmly. She had nothing to hide so had nothing to fear but something at the back of her mind was telling her to pick her words carefully.

"How long have you two been sleeping together?"

Cuddy glared at him. "We haven't been sleeping together."

"Dammit Lisa! I don't want to hear your lies. How long?"

"We haven't been together for years, Michael and you know that. I would never cheat – " She was stopped as the glass Michael had been holding made contact with the wall behind her.

"I don't believe you," he whispered.

"Then next question," she demanded, standing from her seat and heading over to the other side of the room. Right now she couldn't look at him. She didn't want to look at him. She could feel the love for him ebbing from her body as she waited for his next question.

"Why can't you answer Lisa?" She flinched as she felt his breath on her neck. "Is it because it's been going on since day one?" She continued to face the other way in silence, holding back her anger. He spun her around and placed his face inches from hers so she could smell the alcohol on his breath. "TELL ME!"

"There's nothing to tell Michael. We've only slept together once. Before you and I even met," she held his gaze as he smirked at her. "So change the record," she hissed at him.

"I should've guessed you were a whore when your son kept getting my name wrong. I was Michael one day. Derek the next. Kevin. Adam. Jonathan. How many Lisa? I would never have been so suspicious if that idiot you call a son – " He broke off as Cuddy's hand made contact with his face.

"Never talk about my son that way," she told him through gritted teeth as his own hand covered his left cheek.

"Bitch." His fist made contact with her face and she stumbled too stunned to keep herself standing or to cry. She definitely was not going to cry for this 'man'. Instead she got to her feet, and tried to push past him, stopping when she felt the vice grip on her wrist.

"I don't think so." He smirked at her and she winced as his grip got tighter and she could tell there was going to be a bruise later.

"Let. Me. GO!" She pulled her arm as hard as she could and could feel her shoulder click twice as she did so. Cuddy headed to the front door grabbing her coat and purse. She took off her wedding ring and placed it on the table.

"I don't want you here when I get back tomorrow. Leave an address. My lawyers will need to know where to send the divorce papers. And for you're information," she added, opening the door. "I know you're lying. I'm not a whore," a small smile drifted over her face. "There was no Jonathan," she taunted and slunk out of the house just in time as glass smashed against the back of the door.

The tears were coming thick and fast now that she was away from him. She promised that he would never see her cry and she had kept it. House sat flexing his knuckles around his cane. He had said nothing through the whole thing and Cuddy could see how hard it was for him not to get up, get on his motorcycle and confront Michael, but he knew that would make things worse and he needed to do what was right by both Cuddy and Alex.

He watched her unsure of what to do. Did he go into doctor mode and heck out her injuries or did he do the 'Wilson' thing and console her. He edged closer slightly placing his hand on her forearm, imitating the gesture she had given him earlier. She looked down at his arm and moved closer, sobbing into his chest soaking his t-shirt. Hesitantly, he placed a hand round her letting her get it all out. They sat like that for five more minutes before she pulled away.

"Do you want me to check out your arm?" He asked, nodding to the wrist that had blue finger marks on it. She shook her head, wiping the tears on her cheeks. "You should get some sleep," he told her. "You go in with Alex and I'll stay out here." She opened her mouth to object but he stopped her. "My leg will be fine. You need your sleep more than I do. I'm a night owl remember."

"If you're sure…" He nodded. "Thank you." She said getting up and heading to the bedroom. House nodded at her swinging his legs up onto the table. He'd give it ten minutes then he'd go.

***

House pulled up outside of the house. He'd checked on Alex and Cuddy before leaving, making sure they were really asleep before leaving. He knew it wasn't the best thing to do but the anger he felt was not leaving his body any time soon. He was going to show Michael how men who hit women were treated. He swung his leg off his bike and headed up the path, stopping along the way to grab the re-located spare key under a group of rocks in the front yard and to pop two vicodin. He let himself in quietly listening out for any sound, prepared to lash out at any given moment. He crunched over glass as he closed the door and nearly slipped on the liquid it was sat in. He looked around, noticing the lamp was on in the living room. Michael was sat on the floor in front of the couch nursing a glass in his hands, a bottle of vodka on the table in front of him.

"I was wondering when you'd turn up. I'm guessing Lisa doesn't know you're here." It wasn't a question. "I knew she would go to you." He let out a sad chuckle. "She'll cheat on you next – "

"You son of a bitch." House rushed towards him, holding his cane out instead of using it to aid him. He ignored the dull throbbing in his thigh and pushed the handle of his cane against the other man's throat. Michael laughed, pushing the cane away and standing to his full height. He definitely had height on his side along with a fair amount of muscle. The first time House had gone against him, he was slightly surprised that a man that sat at a desk all day could generate muscle like that but it had been a pretty even fight.

"Does hitting a woman make you feel big? Clever? It certainly doesn't make you a man," House growled at him, their noses inches apart.

"What happens between my wife and I is our business, not yours."

House wasn't going to stand and make small talk. He pulled his head back slightly before smashing it against the bridge of Michael's nose. The other man staggered falling onto the couch allowing House to stand over him and bring a fist to his jaw.

"How's that feel?" House asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm as his fist made contact with Michael's head again and again while he just sat there laughing. Either he was drunk or crazy, House thought. The latter would be pretty dangerous right now. House took a step back taking in deep breaths. "Pack your things and get out. Tonight." He turned to leave, freezing when he heard laughter behind him. He spun round glaring at the man on his feet now walking towards him.

"You thought it was going to be so easy," Michael smirked at him, blood dripping from his nose and mouth. "Think again." And before House had a chance to think, a loud crack came from his jaw. "She didn't get away with hitting me so what makes you think you will?" He attacked House's torso and while the crippled man was bent double, delivered a blow to his thigh. House screamed out in pain.

"Bastard." He rubbed his thigh still winded from the strike to his stomach. He was hoping to get away before Michael had a chance to go for his damaged thigh again. He looked up to find the man standing over him a smile on his blood covered mouth and a new glass of vodka in his hand.

"I'd do it again, you know. Hit Lisa. She never seems to learn…"

The light bulb switched on in House's head as he processed this new information. "It's happened before? While Alex was around?" The anger was back. He stood ignoring his thigh as much as possible while he seethed.

"She didn't tell you that? What kind of lover are you?" Michael laughed at him. He reached out and grabbed the cane as House swung it behind his head. "I don't think so," he said as he struggled with the cane as well as managing to swing his fist in House's nose. House flinched but didn't let go of the cane. If he did, that would be it. Instead he did the same as Michael, holding the cane with one hand and fitting in his many punches as possible. He could feel sweat – or was it blood? – slipping down the collar of his shirt. He couldn't give up, not now he knew that Cuddy had been suffering in silence for so long. He angled the cane to his liking before giving it a shove, straight into Michael's face. Michael fell back, letting the cane fall, and crashed into the coffee table. Before he had time to register what had happened, House had picked up his cane, kicked him in the stomach and left the house.

"This isn't over," Michael whispered as the door closed on him.